#part two of purple-haired mari coming soon I SWEAR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest.

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers.

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex.

That was going to be a hell no. ��Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.”

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.”

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen.

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?”

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.”

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day.

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day?

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head.

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.”

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.”

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea.

“Are we there?”

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots.

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.”

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks.

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were.

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect.

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other.

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf.

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots.

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon.

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke.

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank.

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more.

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank.

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you.

Fuck I think I love you.

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn.

“You know Frank, I think I love you.”

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat.

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel.

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts.

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now.

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment.

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second.

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #amber writes #sweater writes #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #gifted au #frank adler fan fic #chris evans characters #remember?#i have a soft spot for this man #cant change wont change #i love just soft sweet moments for him #and making out under a pier is one of those moments #so lets all just give him love #shall we?#thanks for coming to my soft moment

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the-stressmushroom · 3 years

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AFTG Headcanon #2

(I’m gonna be doing a few more of these for writing/idea practice)

TW: canon typical violence, blood

Neil, while being very attractive, does not have a perfect face. And I don’t mean the scars. Whenever I see fan art of Neil, he always has this super symmetrical and straight nose, and I just cannot believe that is the case.

Neil’s nose is crooked and has a large bump in the middle.

He first broke his nose when he was 8. He had been running around the kitchen, experiencing a rare moment of genuine childlike joy in the Baltimore house. His father was away for business and had taken Lola, Romero, and Patrick with him, leaving Neil alone with Mary and only Jackson guarding them. Neil didn’t pose much of a threat so Jackson stayed practically glued to Mary’s side. There was soft music playing throughout the house and Neil, Nathaniel then, was happily humming along as he did laps around the kitchen island. However, as one song bled into the next, he heard Mary shout followed by a big crash. As he whipped his head around to find the source of the noise, he lost his balance and fell headfirst into the marble counter top. His nose cracked, and he felt himself begin to cry. Mary had told him to stay out of trouble though, and he didn’t want to make her mad, so he went to the bathroom closest to his bedroom and locked himself inside. He tried desperately to keep the blood off of any light materials and sat prodding at his injured nose for about an hour before he squeezed it tightly, and tugged it straight. It hurt, but not nearly as much as his fathers hands or lolas knives. The bleeding stopped, so Neil did his best to clean up his mess and carry on with the rest of his day. His mom didn’t even question it when he came down for dinner that evening with swollen eyes and a purple nose; she couldn’t really talk with the bruises around her throat left by Plank.

The second time he broke his nose, it wasn’t his fault, and his name was Stefan. They were driving through the Swiss alps when a member of the Moriyama’s syndicate caught up with them. The roads were snowy and the 1972 Volvo they were stuck with did not make the best get away car. Despite Mary’s skill, the car spun out after hitting a patch of black ice on a particularly winding road. Neil couldn’t remember the car colliding with the tree, but he could remember the feeling of his mother’s freezing fingers snapping the cartilage back into place. He could remember the scream he tried and failed to bite back, and the slap he received for making too much noise. The slap jostled his nose and though it had been properly reset, that break never quite healed properly.

There was a third, fourth, and fifth time; all on the run as well, but the first time he broke his nose as a fox was different.

It was the second game of his Sophomore season. The Jackals had put up a hell of a fight, but the foxes had managed to pull out a win. When the final buzzer sounded, Neil pulled off his helmet and shook out his sweaty hair before looking to the score board; the 8-5 he saw there put a smile on his face. If he hadn’t been quite so distracted, he might have noticed the angry looking backliner for the jackals watching him. He might have noticed the ball being tossed in the air, and he might have noticed the racket swing that sent the ball hurdling towards his face. Andrew noticed. He noticed immediately but didn’t quite make it to Neil in time to push him out of the way. The court rang out with a deafening crack as the ball connected directly with the bridge of his nose. Andrew was over him as soon as he hit the ground, muttering a quick yes or no before pulling Neil’s head into his lap. The other foxes had thrown themselves at the Jackal player in question as soon as they saw Neil fall, but Andrew couldn’t be bothered. He gently touched Neil’s nose and dabbed at it slightly, trying to stop the blood from going into his mouth. Neil groaned and sat up, leaning back on his hands. The fight between the jackals and the foxes had ended with the offending jackal player being benched for the next two games thanks to a much deserved red card.

As his teammates began to circle him, checking in, asking him questions, Neil put a hand up to quiet them.

“Guys, I’m fine, I swear,” Neil said before reaching up and resetting his broken nose without so much as a flinch. “See, all good.” The foxes went deadly quiet.

“Neil,” Matt said softly, “that’s not all good. How do you know how to reset a broken nose?”

Neil blinked at Matt owlishly before responding, “cause I’ve done it a dozen times? To my mom and myself. Couldn’t go to hospitals while on the run and the nose is a very delicate part of the body.” This wasn’t the first time the foxes had heard something like this from Neil, but it didn’t make it any less heart breaking. Neil began to shift around in discomfort from all the eyes on him, and Andrew, as always, noticed right away.

“Come on junkie, you and I are doing press duty.” Neil nodded, his face blank, but he found himself able to breath easier thanks to the distraction. Andrew always knew exactly what Neil needed, always.

As the press conference came to an end, a lingering journalist asked for Neil’s opinion of the Jackals player who had, quite literally, taken a shot at him. Neil’s composure slipped slightly and he let out a laugh at the question before answering,

“If only they had aimed that well during the game, they might have won”

Andrew let out an exasperated sigh beside him and grabbed Neil’s wrist before pulling him out of the press room, leaving the wrap up to Wymack.

“207%”

“Okay, but was I wrong?”

“208%, thin ice junkie.” Andrew said, before turning and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Neil’s very crooked and very swollen nose. “It’s time for you to go see Abby.”

Years down the line, Neil is having a particularly bad day and Andrew sits down next to him in their shared bathroom. He had found Neil on the bathroom floor with a hand mirror, a box of black hair dye and a fifth of whiskey, and decided enough was enough.

“Neil, you look nothing like your father.”

“Yes I do Andrew. Every time I look in the mirror, I see him. His eyes, his jaw, his hair-“

“Neil, I have an eidetic memory, I know what he looks like and I know what you look like. You do not look the same. The nose is all wrong.”

This puzzles Neil, he’d never really taken the time to look at his nose. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, your nose is completely different from his. It throws off the resemblance completely. You do not look like him, and you never will.”

Neil signs, letting his head drop between his knees before bringing his fingers up to dance carefully across the bridge of his nose. “It is a little crooked isn’t he?” He says with a slight chuckle.

“Yes,” Andrew responds before taking Neil’s chin in the palms of his hands and bringing his face up so their eyes meet. “It’s perfect.”

Neil smiles at that, a soft smile that is typically only reserved for Andrew.

“Yes or no, Neil?” the words are softly muttered into the mere inches of space separating their lips.

“Yes,” Neil murmurs in response, closing his eyes and leaning forward into Andrew’s space. He’s expecting a kiss on the lips, so is surprised when Andrew delicately kisses his nose instead. He smiles and Andrew’s lip twitches upward in response.

“511% junkie.”

#aftg headcanon #aftg #all for the game headcanon #all for the game #the foxhole court #the foxes #tfc headcanon #tfc #andrew minyard #neil josten #palmetto state university #psu #psu foxes

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starshine583 · 3 years

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New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself.

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that.

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys.

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present.

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!”

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed.

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel.

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing.

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?”

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.”

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance.

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch.

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were.

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?”

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars).

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside.

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.”

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking.

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person.

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien,

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!”

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her?

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce

#felinette #Felix Culpa #Marinette #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

Connections 5

Chapter 5

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

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

Marinette is now 7 and this is Mari’s first time back to Paris since the fair.

---

Summer break was always a pain and that was because she spent it with only Jean-Pierre and in her suite in the hotel. Chloe wouldn’t ever leave the hotel because she was the daughter of Style Queen and that meant she had a reputation to maintain. Except that all changes when Marinette comes to Paris.

That girl is the person who knows Chloe, other than a rich stuck-up brat, but that doesn’t mean other kids know that.

“Clo are you in” the little noirette called as she walked in, but she was different the bottom half of her midnight hair was bright purple just like her dad’s and it suited her.

“Mari-bug!” the blonde ran into her friend and hugged her. “That’s new” she said as she flicked her best friend’s hair.

The girl giggled, “yeah dad and Penny let me do it when we started the tour, I like it” the noirette laughed and Chloe smiled.

“it looks good” Chloe smiled; I can’t do that mom would freak. “So, any plans on how to sneak out this time?”

Mari smirked and shoved a backpack at her friend “Of course!”

“You are ridiculous…”

“Utterly ridiculous. I know” she was then pushed into another part of her room by the girl. “Now get dressed”

---

Chloe walked out in a pair of yellow gold leggings, under a dress that fell to her knees it faded from the bottom a silver to white at the top and was splattered with gold. She wore black flats and her hair was in her signature ponytail.

“This isn’t much of a disguise Mari” the blonde stated.

“Well not yet it isn’t” Mari pulled out a silver can with a black cap. “Now hold still” Mari was tugging the blonde’s hair and spraying it and when she finished most of her friend’s hair was black save for a few streaks of her golden hair. “How does it look now” the bluenette smirked, as she watched her friend’s reaction.

“If I add some glasses no one will know!” The blonde was jumping with joy as Mari reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of black glasses with bees along the legs and two golden bees in the corners.

“Like the Queen Bee you are” Mari stated as she looked at her friend. No one will be able to tell this is Style Queen’s daughter. Chloe is now just another regular Parisian kid and Paris is not going to know what hit them.

“What about you Mari” as soon as her friend said that she smiled and walked into the other room. When she walked out Mari was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a red shirt covered in black spots. On top of it she wore a dark grey cardigan that fell to her knees, and a pair of black and red high tops. She finished by putting her hair in two space buns tucking the purple away and rearranging her bangs to fall from a center part. “Wow, a bee and ladybug are amount to storm Paris” Chole remarked. Oh, how right she was although she didn’t know it.

“Then let’s go Bee”

“Alright Bug” the two girls ran out of the hotel and made their way to the park. For the three days Mari spent in Paris everyone was talking about the chaos that was brought by the ‘Ladybug’ and the ‘Bee’ as they seemed to draw everyone’s attention. In the span of three days the two planted orange tiger lilies that covered every school potted trees, they snuck into an made a cameo in her dad’s interview with Nadia Chamock, and they somehow managed to make every bird in Paris land on the Eiffel Tower. They didn’t even try to do it, they just wanted to feed the pigeons but soon every bird in the city was there. By the end of the week the ladybug and bee were nicknamed the Lilies of Paris.

Summer was too quick to end but Mari didn’t seem to mind. That just meant that she would be returning to Gotham and would be with her brothers. Not to mention that they were in essence training her when she was with them.

---

Most of her time with the boys was mainly spent with Dick. She and Dick would parkour all around the cave and she was a natural at gymnastics. She got the hang of her yo-yo when transformed and that was when they noticed that her strength and stamina was off the charts compared to other children.

She and Tim would mostly work on hand to hand combat but that mostly resulted in Tim on the floor, while Mari stood triumphant.

Bruce specifically tried to keep Mari from Jason, in fear that he would teach Little Mari how to shoot. But his attempts were in vain, to his credit Jason didn’t show her how to shoot a gun but how to disarm and disassemble different gums in a safe way. That was actually pretty good thinking and he should have thought of that.

To Bruce’s astonishment, or he should really say utter horror, little Mari loved Jason’s motorcycle. It got to the point that not even Jagged could argue whenever Jason picked up Mari from school on his bike. Both he and Jagged swear that Jason is going to end up teaching her to ride before either of them teach her to drive. Jason just loves the fact that Mari loves to ride with him, and Bruce doesn’t oppose this as Jason is always more careful whenever she is with him, or around them in general.

Bruce could tell that this little pixie, yes even he admits that he calls her pixie, has changed the entire family. He would however not let her out as the Ladybug holder in Gotham, but she was adamant on changing their suits and crafted them. Hell, he knew she was a wizard with design but even he was shocked at what she could do. What that girl could do with a needle, thread, and Kevlar reinforced fabric and armor plating was amazing.

He would force her to even make some for their daily lives. Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Himself had gotten several suits that were damn impossible to tell what they were made of. Jason got several more casual outfits and many leather jackets. Mari even made herself several outfits, particularly her favorites were legging that she wore with her uniform and when she rode with Jason. It came to the point that Bruce practically forced Mari to only wear reinforced clothes for her protection, thankfully Tikki was on his side and she did, the only exception was her uniform.

---

Mari was never a normal kid and that much was evident, it wasn’t until she and Tikki were talking during a stay at Wane manor when she was 9 that everything came to light. Alfred walked into the room and that was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was Tikki that changed his perception.

Tikki was floating in front of Miss Marinette, looking sad and trying to comfort the child. Alfred immediately went to the girl and noticed what was happening.

“Miss Mari” he tried to get her attention, but she simply stared straight forwards. The family began to come into the room and silence permeated the manor.

That was when she stared at Jason with tears running down her face, “J… Jay… Jay-Jay why are… why are you covered in chaos magic” everyone was staring at the girl quiet as they realized what she was saying. “Why are you covered in magic from the Lazarus Pit?” the collective in the room were shocked no one made a sound. As Alfred looked around, he even saw Tikki shake in what appeared to be a mix of sadness and fright.

“How do you know that name, Mari?” the little god spoke finally breaking the silence.

“I” she looked around seemingly unsure if she should continue “I just heard it, I saw it, it was it was like a ritual”

“Tikki is this normal for a miraculous holder” Bruce asked attempting to take the attention from little Mari.

Tikki simply shook her head “No it isn’t. seeing the Lazarus arura is for a Ladybug, but this knowledge is not normal…” then she simply stared at the girl. “Mari do you think?” the question was left unfinished, but the meaning was not lost on Mari.

Miss Marinette looked shocked and seemed close to tears. Resigned she finally spoke “it might be, it’s the most logical” after this the child went silent.

“What does this incur exactly?” Alfred spoke from kneeling beside Marinette.

The little god seemed to think before finally stating “Her soulmate” that left everyone quiet once again. “Mari knows how to fight, that much you know but what you don’t is that she has never had any type of training. The same goes for several languages she has never studied, she can read a person’s body language without any difficulty, and now this.” the little goddess states. The boys simply stare at her.

Bruce kneeled down and pulled Mari into a hug. And seemed to whisper something into her ear. Her eyes widened in surprise before she began to cry, and she was taken into Bruce’s arms and they walked out. The next thing Alfred knew was that it was loud, and the boys began to rush after Bruce. They finally found him in Mari’s room speaking softly, to softly to overhear, that they had to open the door but were met with an icy glare and left.

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

Taglist🐞🦇

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#damienette #batfam #batman #maribat #soulmate #marinette #marinette stone #ml marinette #mlb x dc #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #damian al ghul #miraculus ladybug #maridami #Connections AU #marinette x damian #damian x marinette

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shiftyskip · 4 years

Text

Joseph “Joe” David Liebgott

The Real Joseph Liebgott:

Joseph David Liebgott was born in Lansing, Michigan in May 17, 1915 to Joseph (Josef) Liebgott Sr and Mary. Joseph Liebgott Sr was of German descent, but he was born in Beresztocz, Hungary. Joe’s mother was Yugoslavian, but was reported as born in either Yugoslavia or Hungary I am not sure which one because records show both. On his father’s side his grandparents were Yugoslavian as well. On his mother’s sider, they seem to be from Hungary. His mother immigrated in 1909, Lieb’s father immigrated in 1912.

Below is a picture believed to be his parents.

He was the oldest of his siblings. He has four sisters: Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, and Barbara, and one brother, Stephen/Steffen . Both of his parents spoke German, which would later help him during the war. His father worked in the auto industry before they moved.

His family soon moved to California around 1927 and his dad became a barber. He was the oldest of his siblings, one brother and four sisters. He was extremely protective of his younger sisters

Liebgott and his siblings attended Catholic schools. This is where learned how to box and played soccer.

After high school, Liebgott drove a taxi around San Francisco. This career was temporary and he soon attended barber college.

He was also previously married before the war. He was married in July 31, 1933 to a woman named Frances. They had one child, David Albert together on February 27, 1934. But the couple soon divorced within a year, and he was living with his family again by 1940, where he was working on a forestry project. Meanwhile his ex-wife and son moved into her family. Here is Joe and Frances:

He eventually became a barber and this was his career when he enlisted at the age of 26. Liebgott chose the paratroopers to be able to make more money to be able to put a down payment on his parents’ house.

Included is a photo of Joe and his mother

He has a Jewish service card, registered under his mother’s name. But his family denied he was Jewish, stating he was a German Roman Catholic. I’ll attach it below (filtered for safety).

In his draft card he is listed as 5 feet and 5 inches tall and was 109 pounds. He had blue-grey eyes and brown hair.

Malarkey remembers meeting Liebgott on his way to Toccoa where they became part of the original Toccoa men. Liebgott was trained under the harsh command of Herbert Sobel.

Liebgott didn’t talk much about the war, so there will be little but other’s words to put here. This is a photo from 1945 in France.

Right before the jump out of the airplane, he put his barber skills to use and gave a few of the men Mohawks.

He would jump out of the airplanes with the rest of the men on June 6, 1944. He received the bronze star for his bravery at Brecourt Manor, where he worked with Winters and several other men, Compton, Guarenere, Wynn, Lipton, Toye, Malarkey, and Ranney to destroy a German Battery firing on Utah Beach on the day of the D-Day Invasion.

He cut off the finger of a German that he had bayoneted and took the man’s ring near Carentan. At Carentan, Ed Tipper was seriously wounded after clearing out a house with Liebgott. Liebgott grabbed Tipper, yelled for a medic, and told Tipper that he’d be okay. Welsh and Lieb dragged Tipper into the street until Welsh could get him back to the aid station.

After Brecourt, Compton recalls a painful memory with Liebgott in his book, Call of Duty, Compton and Liebgott were patrolling along hedges at dusk. Across the way, in another set of hedges were two men. Both were dressed in German ponchos, one was holding a German gun. Assuming that these men were in fact German, he and Liebgott shot the men. Come to find out, when they checked their dog tags, they were not Germans. They were Americans. They had just killed fellow soldiers in friendly fire.

October 5, 1944. Winters sent a few Youmen out on patrol to take an outpost near a windmill. Liebgott and a few other men (James Alley among them) went with Sgt. Youmen. They sent one man ahead, to look out over the dike. The man spotted German machine guns. German voices approached the remaining boys. Lieb called out for the Youman, as we was trailing behind, only to have grenades thrown at him and the other men. Liebgott got minor wounds while James Alley received 32 shrapnel wounds in his left side, stretching from his face down. They’d run into a company of SS.

Liebgott was known for being rough with prisoners, the fighting that followed the injuries wit the SS company was a prime example of this. After Winters led his patrol to attack these Germans, in which during the fighting they lost William Dukeman, 7 Germans surrendered. The most famous story of Liebgott is as follows, in Dick Winter’s words.

As Winters explains in his book, “Tech/5 Joseph D. Liebgott had been slightly wounded in the arm, but he was ambulatory so I assigned him the mission of escorting seven German prisoners to the rear. Liebgott had earned the reputation of being one of Easy’s best combat soldiers, but we had all heard stories that he was very rough on prisoners. Liebgott was one of Easy Company’s “killers,” so I deemed it appropriate to take a bit of caution. When he heard me say, “Take the prisoners back to the battalion command post,” he replied. “Oh, boy! I’ll take care of them.” In his exuberance, Liebgott stood up and paced back and forth and he was obviously very nervous and concerned. I stopped him in his tracks. “There are seven prisoners and I want seven prisoners turned over to battalion.” Liebgott was highly incensed and started to throw a tantrum.Somewhat unsure of how he would react, I then dropped my M-1 to my hip, threw off my safety, and said, Liebgott, drop all your ammunition and empty your rifle.” There was much grumbling and swearing, but he did as I had ordered. “Now,” I said, “you can put one round in your rifle. If you drop a prisoner, the rest will jump you.””

Liebgott got all 7 prisoners back.

Joe would recover in a hospital in England with Webster, but he was back before Bastogne. Here is the record for that:

Name:Joseph D Liebgott Race:White, includes Mexican (White) Rank:Enlisted Man Admission Age:29 Birth Date:abt 1915 Admission Date:Oct 1944 Discharge Date:Nov 1944 Military Branch:Infantry, Parachute Troops or Units Diagnosis:FirstLocation: Ulna, generally; CausativeAgent: Artillery Shell, Fragments, Afoot or unspecified Type of Injury:Casualty, battle Injured in Line of Duty:In line of duty Type of Discharge:Duty Length of service:2 Year(s), 6 Month(s)

In Bastogne, Winters made him a runner to get away from the tension and constant stress of fighting. One story of his service was outside of Foy is the battle of Noville, he and Earl Hale ducked into a barn and took 6 SS officers prisoner. Outside the barn, a shell exploded. One of the SS officers took this as an opportunity and jumped Hale. He slit Hale’s throat. Liebgott instantly shot and killed the officer. He then killed the others. Hale survived miracuously.

At some point, before the end of the war, Liebgott became first platoon’s interpreter-radioman. This was because he could speak some German. But Webster claimed in his book that the German’s didn’t understand his Yiddish.

He was with Webster when they took Hitler’s Nest. They spent their time drinking Hitler’s alcohol together with a few other men. He was living with Headquarters Company while there.

Of course, the war came to an end and everyone who wanted to was discharged.

Over the course of the war, Lieb was injured 3 times and won 3 purple hearts. He refused one because the wound was “just a scratch”. He would receive partial disability for his wounds.

When he returned home, he disappeared for two years. Eventually he was found living in Yuma, California. He didn’t come to reunions, even when offered multiple times. His father simply told the vets “not to mess with him”.

After the war, Liebgott was a barber for a short time. He married again to a woman named Peggy in 1949. They had eight kids together. Making Lieb’s total children come to nine, although he was mostly involved with the last eight. They lived on a barber’s salary, not leaving much room for fun activities but everyone had their basic needs met. He often only had one day a week off and would take his kids to a Long Beach pike, where they would visit an amusement park.

Liebgott liked to bet on the ponies at the racetrack. Every other sunday, him and his boss would take the boss’ airplane down to Mexico.

He is believed to have never contacted anyone from his days in Easy Company. He just wanted to get away from the war.

The Liebgotts divorced in April of 1969. She remarried, but he never did. He was described as really quiet by his granddaughter.

She states, in Marcus Brotherton’s book Company of Heroes (pages 120-121) “His hands looked like a man who worked with his hands, sunspots all over. He absolutely loved his grandkids. he had false teeth that he flipped out of his mouth and smiled, threatening to kiss us with his gums. He was a tickler. He never held babies over his shoulder...because he wanted them to see everything....He didn’t have a lot of money - I’m pretty sure all he had was his veteran’s benefits...He made all of the bikes for the grandkids by scouring thrift stores for dilapidated bikes. He stripped the bikes down to their frame, fixed and assembled them as good as new. He let each grandchild pick the color of new paint for his or her bike....I always knew the specific foods we were going to eat at his house. He had bite-sized candy bars and store brand soda-pop. There was no drinking water in his house. He always lived in rental houses...”

He was very neat, and keep his house and appearance orderly. However, he was always working in the garage, so the house had black smudges from the dirt on his hands.

However, Liebgott was not perfect. While he hated the Nazis, he was also seen as a bigot, maybe even harsher. Rhonda explained that he threw the n word around like it wasn’t a big deal. He blamed the wrong goings of the world on different ethnic groups. Rhonda started seeing a guy from El Salvador, he asked if her partner “even spoke English?”

As he grew older, Lieb got sicker. He eventually lost the use of one of his legs from a hernia. He was confined to a chair and hated any new technology. He was stuck in a wheelchair, angry when he would hit a cabinet.

Lieb did not talk about his military career until towards his end. He would spend time with his son Jim, watching tv talking about the war during a war movie. He would talk about the war when he was mad, possibly angry at himself for doing a lot of killing and other things that people his age shouldn’t have to do.

In 1992, Liebgott developed a tumor in his neck, near his windpipe that would cause a lot of pain. Jim took him to the hospital on Father’s Day. Shortly later, on June 28, 1992 Liebgott died. He was against a funeral and just wanted to be cremated, so his family did as he wished. They still have his ashes and letters and the Toccoa book.

#Real Life Band of Brothers #real band of brothers #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom

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3rdgymbros · 3 years

Text

— pairing; shoko ieiri, suguru getou & satoru gojo

— summary; in suguru comes back and shoko hurts.

— spoilers for the prequel manga

When she wakes, it's late morning, and sunlight warms her skin. The better part of the night had been spent tossing and turning, and the effects make themselves known in the form of her bleary-eyed and aching body, and she sports a massive headache that's probably equal parts hangover and sleep deprivation. She activates her Technique and waits for the headache to pass. Satoru's gone, and the apartment's much too quiet without him, but she finds herself wrapped up in a pale blue blanket and is pleasantly surprised when she notes that the dishes have been washed. Somehow, she suspects that bringing that up to Satoru is a guarantee that the gesture will never be repeated.

Frappy, curled up on the back of the couch, lifts his head and mews plaintively at her when she stirs, but Chino continues sleeping undisturbed in his spot on an armchair, curled up into a tight black ball. Shoko briefly touches Frappy's white head, and scratches behind his ears. His hair feels like the delicate fluff of a dandelion, but his body is sturdy and muscular under all that pillowy down. Frappy's eyes bore into her, shooting sparks of blue into the air while his tail coils and strikes.

"I'm fine." Shoko says, and shuffles into the kitchen.

Shoko makes her usual cup of tea, once again adding half a bottle of vodka into the mixture and wanders over to the balcony, staring out at the sunny day and the Tokyo skyline stretching out beneath her. Frappy jumps off the sofa and rubs against her, but even his comfort isn't enough to keep the leaden weight from creeping back in and settling back upon her shoulders once more, seemingly growing heavier by the minute.

Frappy yowls and purrs.

"He isn't coming back." Shoko says, as much to herself as to him, a dull, quiet sort of acceptance already overtaking her.

Pushing the words out into the air seems to make them real. She closes her eyes, slowly breathing out. Dark beings bury everything, just never deep enough, and Shoko grabs onto the steel railings and waits until the room stops spinning.

However much she wishes she can spend the day soaking in hot water, Shoko dresses quickly, falling back into her usual morning routine. She tugs on a black turtleneck sweater and a decently short pleated skirt in lipstick red. She runs a brush through her hair and lets it hang loose, too lazy to pull it back into something more elaborate. She paints her lips in bright reds, smooths on foundation that does nothing to hide the purple bruises under her eyes, and slides on her usual pair of black studs.

She'd taken it upon herself to pack away Suguru's belongings in cardboard boxes. The wounds of grief had been too raw, too fresh for Satoru, and she'd supposed that she'd dealt him a kindness by clearing away Suguru's things on her own. She'd felt a strange sort of determination as she'd gone through the notions of packing, a desire to ensure that Satoru wouldn't be hurt any further. Satoru protected her in his own way, and she protected him in hers.

Suguru's favorite jacket, his white dress shirt, his jeans, the velvet scrunchies she'd bought for him as a joke, these and other things were littered with memories in every fold and pleat. And she'd packed them all away, except a pair of his earrings, feeling as though all the air had been squeezed out of her lungs.

The first few nights, she'd taken to wearing a T-shirt of Suguru's that hadn't been washed yet. It still held the smells of his skin and the fragrance of his cologne. She hadn't known how to make the scent last. One day long after it was gone, she would find herself wishing for one more breath of his smell, and it would exist only in her memory.

It's eleven when Shoko leaves for work; if the downtown traffic is light, she'll arrive at school in an hour. One thing about her apartment is that the skyline view comes at the cost of work convenience. The school has service apartments for its staff, but she prefers having her own personal space – and she isn't exactly unable to afford it. Working as a Shaman pays well.

Her headache and the last effects of the hangover are gone by the time Shoko walks into the school, her heeled Mary Janes clicking against the concrete. The school is abuzz with students wandering the expansive grounds, but she knows from experience that they'll be leaving on missions in an hour or two, and the muted peace will descend upon the grounds once again.

The first years are clustered by the entrance of the school. Yuta seems particularly anxious, his nose and cheeks bright red from the cold, and his eyes are glued to the sky.

"What's wrong?" She asks him, slowing her footsteps and lingering to hear his answer. There's a feeling of anxious foreboding gnawing at her insides. Whatever's going on, she doesn't like it, as an unwelcome spirit begins to take over her flesh, making her shiver and her stomach roll.

"It's just –" Shoko turns at his alarmed voice, following his wide-eyed gaze. "That's a big bird."

A bitingly cold wind stirs her hair and skirt, chafing her skin. A wind born of enormous flapping wings. That's certainly one way to describe it, Shoko thinks dryly, before inhaling sharply when she feels it. Shoko knows whose Cursed Energy that is, she knows it from a place that goes deeper than memory. But she can't make herself believe it. Not here. Not now.

Suguru's Cursed Energy was at the scene, Yaga had told her yesterday, forced into being the bearer of bad news once again. She'd stared at him with lips pursed, her expression one of forced calm even as hard-won emotion had churned at her insides. It's possible he might approach you.

Suguru, Shoko thinks, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her hands are shaking. She fumbles about in her purse, finds a squashed packet of Camel Lights and tucks it away into her pocket. She hasn't smoked for years, not since Utahime had nagged at her to quit incessantly, but the weight of it is soothing in her pocket.

"Why don't you all go and get Satoru?" Shoko asks casually, but there's no mistaking her words for what they really are: an order. Challenging, she raises her eyebrows at Maki, who looks as though she wants to argue. "And stay indoors until this is over."

Yuta hesitates. "Will you be okay on your own?"

"'Course." Shoko replies, reassuring as her lips lift up into a smile she doesn't really feel. "I'm the strongest."

She watches the first years scramble away. She doesn't take her eyes off them until she's sure that they're gone; they're just children after all, and she has no desire to involve them in the wars waged between adults. Let them remain children for a little while longer. Might as well give them the chance that we never got.

Turning, Shoko finds herself looking into a pair of dark hazel eyes. It had been easy to ignore her own feelings for him last night while in the throes of alcohol, easy to pretend she'd accepted the situation and had moved on from the past. But now, in the cold light of sobriety, she feels that old ache stir within her chest. She swears she can smell the scent of his skin, mingling with the woodsy apple fragrance of his cologne. The afternoon sunlight illuminates his hair, dark as a raven's wing, and she can perfectly recall what it had been like to touch the lines of his face, the smooth skin of his upper cheek.

Suguru's eyes light up when he sees her. They're much harder now, and stripped away of their childhood innocence, but for one brief moment, it feels as though nothing's changed at all. He would have been returning from a mission and she would have come to greet him, badgering him for souvenirs. It would have been nothing unusual.

He calls out her name, speaks in the voice she's craved for so long, deeper now than in his youth. "Shoko!"

What does he want from her? Is she supposed to care after months, years of silence, Suguru ruthlessly unknotting any ties of friendship between them? But she does care. That’s the problem. Years of their shared memories are steeped in her blood. It would take leeches to suck them out.

"Suguru." Shoko says with difficulty. To give her hands something to do, she tucks her hair behind her ear. She doesn't miss it, how his gaze lingers on her face before flitting to her ears, to the earrings glinting there. "Visiting without souvenirs?"

What she's really saying: How could you leave us for so long? And what brings you back now?

Somehow, she knows that he's seeing through her apparent apathy. It's not surprising. They've always been able to read each other well. The difference is that for the first time, Suguru's mind is closed to her. She is looking at a stranger.

"I'll bring some next time. Do you still hate sweets?"

"I never hated the ones you made." Shoko says, after several moments pass in silence. It's the first bit of honesty she's shown him since he's arrived. "Those were good."

There it is, a tremble so slight Shoko might have missed if she hasn’t known Suguru for as long as she has. Suguru's wearing the mask of a stranger now, but it's slipped for just a second. Enough for both of them to be reminded of what they were once, and how far they've fallen since then. But as soon as it appears, it's gone. Sealed away behind those steely eyes once again.

Distantly, she's aware of the presence of at least half the school, swarming, buzzing like flies. They close in, forming a defensive posture. Satoru's there too, and his Cursed Energy has her skin prickling, as if hundreds of butterfly wings are brushing against her.

Shoko closes her eyes. Blinks them open. Breathes out his name on a needle of pain. "Why did you come here, Suguru?"

Suguru's face twists up into a mockery of a smile. She struggles to see the boy who had been everything to her and the young man who'd protected her from Cursed Spirits and Curse Users. "To declare war."

"You okay?" Satoru asks, his voice low as he comes to stand by her side.

It's as if something has broken inside her, until she feels bent over with the cruelty of this grief, a grief so strong she doesn't even know who or what it is for. Her eyes are burning, tearless sobs shaking her body for a precious few seconds until she breathes in deeply, swallowing the feelings back down to their prison inside her.

"Fine." Shoko says, even as something clutches at her throat.

#shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #suguru geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sss trio #jjk spoilers #♥ || sam writes.#;; and here is part 2 yall enjoy

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auroras-blend · 3 years

Text

The Enemy of My Enemy

Summary: Vittoria meets the one, the only, the woman who convicted her father, the ex-wife of her arch-nemesis, a dynamite lawyer: Marie Thibodeaux!

Notes: Told in Vittoria's POV. Marie is only a cameo 😢

A myriad of blue and purple puzzle pieces surrounded her skirt. Well, how am I supposed to do this in just an hour? Vittoria was more or less sour that her father left her with Sawyer in his office as he ran errands, because 1) she was with Sawyer and 2) she was bored out of her mind. When the door had shut, Sawyer had barked at her to be quiet and quite literally threw the puzzle box in her face and told her to play with it. It was brand new and she could only assume it was to go to one of the grandchildren he’d never seen. He barely has any photos of his family! There was a picture of him, his first wife, and two sons on his desk and another photo of his daughter to the side that both looked to be taken decades before she was born. I’d be sad if he were my father.

Sawyer was busy writing aggressively, his tone sharp and bitter as he was on the phone with someone. I should scream he’s killing me...that’d be funny. She giggled at the thought and earned herself a nasty scowl from the man himself. What was lovely about Sawyer was that he would swear around her because he knew damn well her mother did and he really seemed to be the only person who understood there was no more protecting her poor little ears, that he says stick out worse than Mickeys. They do not!

With a little huff, she began to assemble the puzzle of the sea, or at least that's what it said it’d be according to the box. And in her opinion, she was doing extremely well! “Look!” she pointed gleefully, “I’m almost done!”

“Wooooow,” Sawyer murmured, his eyes glued to his paper, “We should have you tested to see if you’re gifted…”

Vittoria pouted. “This is why you’re not married anymore.”

That little jab may have hit too close to home because he flung a paperweight at her that hit her in the face again. It wasn’t too heavy and it most certainly didn’t break anything, but the hate and suddenness of it made her start crying. “Keep your trap shut,” he growled.

It seemed he was even crueler today and of course she was his victim. Her little hands gripped the smooth glossy paperweight and threw it back, but it couldn’t go much farther than to bounce against the top of his desk. Her strength didn’t match his and she started bawling, “Pathetic weak little thing…”

“You’re so mean to me! I hate you and-,”

“WHERE IS THAT COCKSUCKING MORALLESS CLOWN-,” boomed a voice that made Sawyer go white as a sheet of paper.

The whites of his eyes were on display as he sprung out of his chair and shut the blinds. He ripped her off the ground and put a finger to her lips, “Shut up,” he whispered, “Shut up right now.”

Sobs still heaved from her body, the sounds being drowned out by the woman outside. “I-I can’t! You hurt me!”

“Fuck,” he cursed, “I’ll give you...two dollars! Two dollars if you’re quiet right now!”

Her cries quieted down, but not completely. Sawyer was close to trembling, his grip on her shoulders and the look in his eyes were pleading. Huh, he’s desperate… “Five,” she said.

Might as well...He grit his teeth and growled, “Fine. Now shut up.”

Vittoria nodded and retreated into the corner. “Ma’am, you can’t go in there-,” screamed the secretary.

Right as Sawyer was about to turn out the light, the door slammed open and smashed his hand against the wall. “Fuck!” he screamed in pain, pulling it close to him as he scrambled away.

The lighting fixtures flickered but remained on as who Vittoria imagined being the goddess Nemesis stood between the doorway to the firm and to Sawyer’s former safe haven. The woman was dressed in a dark navy blazer and skirt with a white undershirt. Circular glasses were falling down the bridge of her nose as her hateful gaze met Sawyer’s beady one. She had a straight-cut bob that fell beneath her chin, her hair grey in a way that demonstrated that too many people annoyed her in her lifetime. For a moment, her heart sank because that's what she could imagine her Mama to look like if she had lived that long. “You motherfucking son of a bitch!”

She even curses like Mama, well she has an accent. It sounded southern to her but with an air that she couldn't quite place. Despite being more or less terrified of everyone around her, she was unafraid of the woman. And she’s right. “Marie, you psychotic cunt, get the fuck out!”

The woman stormed right up to him and put her finger in her face. “HOW DARE YOU?! BRINGING HIM BACK!”

“It’s none of your business anymore, now get out! Call security!” he shouted at his poor shaking assistant.

“This entire case is my business! How much did it cost you to sell what you pass off as a soul?”

Vittoria giggled and right when she did, she clapped her hands to her mouth. The red-eyed gazes shifted to her, puffs of air coming out from their noses and mouths. “Oh...another one of your spawn’s spawn?” she sneered.

“No!” Vittoria protested, “I’m not related to him!”

The thought of being related to Sawyer revolted her to her core. “How fortunate for you.”

“I think so,” she smiled.

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? You lost that five bucks,” he seethed.

Damn.

“Who’s the kid?”

“I’ve been kidnapped!” she cried dramatically, wiping the remaining wetness from her eyes, “He’s a predator!”

Sawyer jumped, “No, she’s not! I did not!”

Her words seemed to be more terrifying than what the woman, Marie, threw at him. “You sick son of a-are you prostituting kids now?”

“ENOUGH!” he shouted, “Where’s that damn security?!”

“Because that’s the only way you can get rid of me, huh? Not in court but by men bigger than you to do your dirty work. Hell, you’re not even the boss. You don’t call the shots! You worthless piece of shit! How can you stand to look at yourself?”

“I ask him the same thing every day,” Vittoria shook her head sorrowfully.

“I’m this close,” he pinched his fingers and left a barely visible space between them, “To cutting out your tongue.”

Vittoria stepped back in fear. “Threatening bodily harm to a six-year-old? You really are a jack shit lawyer-”

“I’m nine actually. I’m just small,” Vittoria added. That information wasn't relevant but Vittoria thought it was.

“He also threw a paperweight at me,” she said pointing to the ball that stood still on the floor, “It hurt.”

“Oh...and assault. You really can’t get any lower,” Marie hissed, “I hope you can afford a good lawyer. I’d offer, but I despise you and I hate to take lost causes.”

Shivers rolled down her spine as she heard Sawyer grind his teeth. “Go back to the pits of hell where you belong, or whatever they’re calling Chicago these days, and maybe I won’t charge you for trespassing,” he snapped at the woman.

Marie scoffed, “You were so close to being free of him. And you brought him back, you pathetic worm.”

She could tell that dug into Sawyer deep. “He’s been a-,” he began to defend before eyeing Vittoria, “No. Just get out. I’ve got work to do.”

He retreated back to his seat and stepped on the puzzle she had been working on. No… Marie scowled at him, “You’re gonna end up dead one day.”

“We all do,” Sawyer sighed.

Anger rolled off Marie before her eyes met Vittoria’s. “Are you really okay, kid? You need any help?”

“I’ll survive,” she said politely.

Marie nodded. “If you ever need a good lawyer, don’t call him. He’s terrible, I should know, I was married to him,” she smirked, her eyes glowing with vindication at Sawyer whose own hazel eyes were full of hostility, “And I also beat his ass in court.”

Vittoria gasped. She was starry-eyed and already adored her, unknowing that this was the woman who convicted her father. Sawyer was glowering at her over papers, “ I’m meeting one of his ex-wives! “You poor woman. I’m so sorry,” she said with true genuineness, before clarifying her statement, “For being married to him. Not for beating him.”

Vittoria giggled at the last part. I love her. She’s mean to Sawyer. I’d do anything for her. She reminds me so much of Mama. With a last smile, she pushed by the security guards who finally arrived. Ooooh, Sawyer’s gonna fire them. Part of her was sad to see her go, knowing that Sawyer would wring her neck soon. For a moment, she had been transported back to how it was with her mother. It was probably a good thing Marie didn’t stay, otherwise, Vittoria most certainly would’ve imprinted on her and followed her around like a little duckling. “Can I be her?” she asked dreamily.

“No,” Sawyer said in a cold tone, “Come sit here.”

Vittoria obeyed and climbed into the large leather seat across from him, letting her legs swing back and forth as they couldn’t touch the ground. Wow, I feel like a grown-up. Sawyer put down his pen and looked at her. He wasn’t angry, just thoughtful and that confused her. He sighed and got up to open a globe in the corner of the room, “Whoa!”

Inside was an assortment of drinks and liquors that were half-empty. Beautiful amber-brown liquids filled the crystal cruet set, and Sawyer took the liberty to pour himself a drink. Sawyer closed the globe and gripped his glass and another empty one. Sawyer paused in front of a cabinet before opening the bottom door that revealed a mini-fridge. The cold air whooshed out when he pulled the door open, featuring rows of sodas, sparkling in their cans. “Rootbeer, black cherry, or strawberry?”

“What?” she whispered.

“Which one?” he asked again, gesturing to the sodas.

“Papa...Papa won’t let me. He won’t even let me have juice,” she frowned.

Sawyer shrugged, “Fine then…”

“Wait!” she called out before he closed the door.

She bit her lip. This is wrong. Maybe he’s doing this as a trap...but I’ve never had soda before. What if we get in a car crash on our way home and I die never having a soda?! No...Papa won’t let me and I have to be good for him, so no...I can’t have soda. And that’s that. “I’ll have the strawberry one please,” she said aloud and watched him pour the brown fizzing drink into a glass and hand it to her.

I can hear the bubbles! Vittoria felt giddy, excited to have something forbidden and sweet. Something she’d always wanted to try! A smile spread across her face as she put it up to her mouth, the foam and bubbles tickling her nose and causing her to sneeze. “Achoo!”

She wrinkled her nose to get rid of the itch as she pressed the thick crystal rim to her lips and tilted the glass back, allowing the sweet bubbly drink to drip into her mouth and leave a burning sensation down her throat. Vittoria coughed, “It burns!”

“That’s the carbonation,” Sawyer said plainly as he sat down again, “Vittoria...you know how we hate each other?”

She blinked, surprised at how honest he was being. “Yes…”

“Hm, well you know how we both love your father very much? And want him to be happy and safe?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice worried.

“That woman who came in, my ex-wife, she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want your father to be happy and she’s one of the people who believe lies about him. In fact, Marie is one of the people who spread those lies,” he scowled.

It was the first time she ever believed something Sawyer said. It was said with such a raw intensity that he couldn’t be lying to her, or at least lying to her entirely. “What?” she whispered.

“Vittoria, she’s not our friend. You can’t trust her and the moment she finds out you’re his daughter, she’ll want to exploit that, you. Marie will stop at nothing and will use you to take him down, which is why you can never tell her anything. Please, never talk to her again,” he said seriously.

“But...but she was nice,” she mumbled, to me.

Sawyer rolled his eyes, “Well this isn’t about us. It’s about protecting your father. So can you put our differences aside and treat her as what she is? A threat to our family?”

An alliance with Sawyer? She never wanted to agree with him on anything, but the way he was speaking set her nerves on alert. He means it...he’s serious. “Yes,” she agreed, “Anything for Papa. I-I don’t want to see him get hurt…”

“Good,” Sawyer nodded, “Then it’s agreed. You won’t speak to Marie or about her, ever again.”

“Agreed.”

“You are a smart girl, then,” he grinned, “One more thing, let me tell your father everything.”

“I’ll let you if you give me back my five dollars.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’ll go home and say it anyway,” she reasoned.

“Two dollars.”

“Three.”

“Two and a strawberry tab.”

“Three,” she insisted.

He narrowed his eyes, “Fine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sawyer,” she said pleasantly.

Sawyer smiled greasily and leaned forward against his desk, holding out his drink. Vittoria took her cue and tapped her glass against his, a sweet clink, sounding out as they toasted. As she took a sip of her soda, she couldn’t help feeling like she made a deal with the devil.

#Marie Thibodeaux #charles sawyer #marilyn winslow #vittoria borghese #cameo

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Dangerous Love (Pt. 07 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (06)

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

The Calm Before The Storm

• Bruce's POV •

I'm suddenly awake by a scream. Sitting up abruptly, I take in the silence. A bad dream probably. Running a hand through my hair, I lie back down, staring at the ceiling. Then I hear it again, a call for help and another yell.

(Y/N).

As soon as I recognize her voice, I'm already up, taking the key to her room and running there. Is she hurt? There's nothing in there that would cause an accident. When I'm close, I hear groans, like a cry.

But when I open the door, I find her on the bed, hugging her pillow tight. The soft light coming from the window reflects on the many tears on her face. What is it that scares her so much? She's breathing fast, hands clenched into fists.

Without thinking, I lie beside her, delicately touching her shoulder, trying to wake her up as softly as I can.

“Wake up.”

• (Y/N's) POV •

A voice calls you, and you're pulled away from your terror. You know who's calling, and you immediately feel safe. Bruce is saving you from the nightmares, and it seems like whenever he's in the dream, the bad ones don't come again.

“Bruce.” He's lying behind you, so you take his arm, pulling it over your waist. “If you hold me I won't be scared,” you mumble, moving closer to him. “Don't leave me.”

“I won't.” His illusion answers, and it feels so real. Why can't this be real? Because you're a villain, and he's the hero... Because you would never be brave enough to do this in real life. And Bruce would never want to hold you like this.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

His voice is low on your ear, and you can't help but smile at the name he calls you. You feel his chest moving as he breaths. “This isn't real.”

“Why can't this be real?”

“Because nobody would love me.”

“You're wrong.” His thumb caresses your chin, and you smile again.

“I think I could fall in love with you,” you mutter.

“Me too.” His answer seems familiar as if you've already had this conversation before. Maybe in another dream. “Now get some sleep.”

“Ok.”

You're not scared anymore. With him, you know you'll be safe.

•••

You're happy today. You had a good night sleep, and you're one year older, which means you managed to stay alive for another entire year. And you're celebrating it out of that hell hole Belle Reve. You're brushing your hair, smiling to yourself when you hear the door opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey, Bruce!” You exclaim, leaving the bathroom.

“I brought you this. But it's not your gift yet.” He shows you the plastic bag he's carrying.

“What is it?”

He searches for something in it, showing you a box die. “I had these for a while. It's the closest color to your natural hair.”

Hesitantly, you take the small box from his hand. It seems to have two more in the bag, and some other things. You knew he didn't like your hair. “Thanks...” You mumble, wondering if dyeing your hair would make him like you. Looking away, you make your way to the bed.

“You don't have to do it you don't want to.”

“I get it, Bruce. You want me to look normal.” And as quick as that, the day is ruined. Bruce doesn't like you, obviously, look at you. You're Havoc, a criminal. You can't look at him right now, so you put the box on the nightstand and lie down, pulling the blankets to cover your head. “Can you just bring me breakfast and leave me alone, please?” You can't deal with it right now. The best you can do is dream... In your dreams, Bruce hugs you, so tight... In your dreams, he's yours.

“(Y/N).” He calls, softly.

“Get out, Bruce,” you beg.

“I don't care about your hair color. I bought you this in case you wanted the natural color back. It's not about me, it's about you.”

“Then...” You sit up, watching as he sits on the edge of the bed. “...What if I wanted to dye the roots lilac?”

“Tell me what you'll need and I'll get it for you.” His stare is intense, yet gentle. Slowly, he puts his hand above yours in the mattress. “You're beautiful. Lilac hair or not. Now, come. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” A smile comes to your lips as you get up to follow Bruce. He opens the door, and you give a little jump. “Are you taking me to see the gardens?”

“Yes. But you'll have to keep your eyes closed until we get there.”

Nodding, you close your eyes. Bruce takes your hand, and you cling on his arm. You walk slowly, mostly downstairs. You suddenly feel fresh wind on your hair and the lighting changes. You're outside. “Just a while longer now.”

“Alright.” You have to control yourself not to peak. Being here is already amazing. Bruce trusts you, right? He wouldn't do that if he didn't.

Stopping suddenly, you bite your lip. “Open.” When you do, you swear to God your heart stops.

There's a wooden table, and pink, purple and white balloons. A beautiful cake in the middle, cupcakes, colorful macarons... Confetti all over the place. You can't help but cry, but you don't try to hide it. You're still holding Bruce's arm, unable to move. Is it really for you? You don't deserve it.

“Bruce, I...”

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N).” He says, pulling you with him until you're at the table. “I hope you like it.”

“I... I don't even know what to say. My birthdays were like... Just robbery and then... This is...” You take a macaron, a blue one, and take a bite. “This is incredible.”

“That's not all.” Bruce walks around the table, taking two boxes he left of the bench, piled one above the other. “Your gifts.”

“Two?”

“Two. One for each month you've been here.” He puts them on the table, gesturing for you to approach. You're blushing hard now. “Open.”

“Alright.” Unable to hide the smile, you shily start open the biggest box. Inside, you find a beautiful, sparkly silver dress. As you pull it up to take a better look, the fabric is soft on your skin. It has a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps, bareback. “Do you think I'll look good in it?”

“We'll find out tonight at dinner,” Bruce answers with a smile.

“Dinner?”

He simply nods. “Open the next one.”

Taking a deep breath, you lie the dress down, focusing on the other box. Black high heels, Mary Jane flatforms if you're not wrong, with red bottom. It goes with the dress, apparently. “They look badass,” you say, holding one in your hands. “Are those for tonight too?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you... Nobody cared enough to give me something for my birthday. Not without me asking... Or demanding.” Shaking your head to push away the thought, you focus on what's happening now. “So... Thanks again.”

“Hey, no bad thoughts ok? No bad memories.” Bruce takes your hand over the table and you smile. “Now eat your cake.”

That's the sweetest morning you ever had. Bruce doesn't seem in a hurry to leave or to do anything else. You just sit there eating a little of everything. You take in the whole scenario, but Bruce is better than all this. Having him here with you... It's amazing. You never spent a birthday with someone you loved...

With someone you care about, you mean.

When it's time for lunch, you just start eating again.

“So... Were you here last night? Or did Batman went to patrol the streets?” You ask him, a hand caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I slept in yesterday night.” There's something weird in his voice, but you have no idea what it is. “What about you? Did you sleep well?”

Your mind floats back to the dream. It never felt so real, it's like your brain is pulling a joke on you. Maybe it's just your confused feelings playing tricks. You remember his arm around you, his chest pressed against your back, the warmth coming from his body... You'd give everything you have to make it real. Or everything you had, because now it's kinda obvious you can't claim those things. And you don't think you want to.

“Yes, I... I had the best dream and it... It made me feel safe.”

“Would you tell me?”

“I can't...” Whispering, you avoid his gaze. Does he dream about you too? Of course, he doesn't. “Good dreams mean something is working, right?”

“Yes, but that's not me. It's you... I just gave you a little push in the right direction.”

“Yeah... Uhm, it's getting late. I'll take a shower and read a little.” You need to go back to your room to think. The sun will start setting soon anyways.

“Do that. I'll call you when dinner is ready.” Nodding, you stand up and take your gifts, making your way back, but you stop when you notice he's not following you.

“Hey?” You call. “Let's go. Game Of Thrones book two is waiting for me.”

“You can go.”

Tilting your head to the side, you turn on your heels to look at him. “What do you mean?” You know the key is in his pocket.

“(Y/N), just go.” Even though the distance, you see a smile on his lips. “I won't lock your door.”

“Don't trust me too much, Bruce.”

“It's a little too late for that.” That said, he gets up, walking inside, and leaving you alone.

Taking a deep breath, you decide you can't deal with this before a long damn shower and some pages of the book. So you make your way upstairs, and you spend two hours in the bathroom, thinking. There's a lot going on in your head.

There's a part of you, a small part you figured out, that still wants to be Havoc. That part was what made you run and break the kitchen window. But there's something else entirely, another part, that wants the past to be in the past. The life you had out there was good. You had mountains of money, fast cars, expensive jewels...

Things.

You had plenty of things.

What Bruce gave you here, is beyond all that. He cared about you. Not because he has to, for being some of your employees. But because he saw something inside you that you couldn't. He looks at you with such kindness, he touched you so softly... You think you found yourself, the real you, behind all the walls you built. You had a hell lot of fun out there, in Gotham's streets... But at the end of the day, there was always the possibility of being caught. And for people like you, being caught means getting hurt... Badly. And there was emptiness too. Loneliness. It's not a good feeling to know people only care because they fear you. You know that now.

You know what you want. You want a better life. You have no idea how to get it, but you'll ask Bruce for help.

After the night falls, you put on the dress. It's beautiful, breathtaking. You look like someone else. The shoes make you a lot taller, but not as tall as Bruce. But you'll be closer to his lips, you're sure. When you turn around to see the back, you sigh to notice the bruises will be showing. Such a nice dress wasn't made for you... You have no idea what to do with your hair, so you have no option but to let it down. It doesn't look good...

There won't be anyone here, but you'll still feel misplaced...

A knock on the door makes you jump. “Miss (Y/N). Master Bruce is waiting for you downstairs.” Alfred announces.

You wish you had some make-up. You should've asked Bruce to buy you some. But now it's too late for that. Your hair isn't styled, your face is blank and the dress, which is supposed to beautifully leave your back exposed, shows off awful, disgusting bruises... But you have to go down there. So you breathe in deeply and walk out.

• Bruce's POV •

I hear the soft click of the high heels on the floor, and seconds later she appears, at the top of the stairs. It's impossible to hold back the smile that fights its way to my lips. I can't take my eyes off her as she carefully comes downstairs, a hand on the handrail. The dress fits her perfectly. My guess is that (Y/N) looks beautiful no matter what she wears, or what color she puts on her hair.

Her eyes wander around, to the lights, the chandelier, the table I set for us in the middle of the hall. And a smile, hesitant at first, takes over her features. From her lips up to her eyes, lighting her up.

“It's wonderful.” She says, stopping before me, yet avoiding my eyes. “I didn't notice how huge this place is. I would easily get lost.”

I'm looking down at her, taking her in. Her scent, delicate and unmistakable, draws me closer. She doesn't seem to notice though. “You'll learn,” I assure her, and she finally looks at me with funny eyes. She doesn't believe me.

“So you'll let me walk around the house now?”

“One more birthday gift.” I trust her. I saw as she broke the window glass, and punched through it, with my heart burning.

The thought of losing her that night suffocated me. Nothing scared me so much. But she suddenly stopped, and so did my world. Slowly, I watch as she stepped down the sink and silently walked away. That made me realize it's useless to pretend (Y/N) doesn't own my heart. It's in her possession, and she doesn't even know.

I walk beside her as she paces around, curious eyes observing every detail. As she comments on everything, I wonder where to go from now. From the acknowledgment of love. I've never been there. I never thought I'd be able to hold such a feeling, but (Y/N) has proven me wrong, as she's doing to everyone who thought she was a waste of time.

It's a lot easier to be Batman than to figure out these things. These feelings. I can't help but wonder if she feels the same.

She held me so close, on those nights she thinks I was a dream. She said it herself, that she could fall in love with me. Was it true? Is it happening? Should I ask? I'd know what to do if she was like the women who have tried to approach me. But it's (Y/N)... And I don't know what to do. My guard is down, and these feelings keep flooding my heart.

There's only one thing I know for sure. That my heart isn't my own again.

• (Y/N's) POV •

“That's the nicest thing someone did for me,” you admit, turning to face him. You have to focus on not letting him see your back. “It looks like a fairy tale.”

“I'm happy you like it.”

“I–” A soft song starts playing, coming from everywhere. A hell of a sound system he has. “There aren't many ladies to dance with this time, Bruce Wayne,” you tell him as he takes your hand, pulling you close.

“Good. That means I can dance with you all night.”

“You- you shouldn't say things like this,” you mutter, feeling his arms around your waist. Your hands lay on his biceps as he starts to swing from side to side, slowly. And yes, you are closer to his lips now. But he'd still have to bend down a little... You mean, if he ever considered kissing you. Which he probably never did.

“Why not?”

“Nevermind... Just...” You wrap your arms around his neck, your bodies standing close. You smile to feel his thumb caressing the bare skin on your back. “Bruce, I could never pay you back. Not only for this but... For everything you have done for me.”

“I'm not asking for anything in return.” He takes one of your hands, but when he moves you to spin around, you stop suddenly.

“No,” you mutter, going back into his arms. It was supposed to go completely unnoticed, but you feel his eyes burning on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you mumble, eyes on his chest.

“(Y/N)? Didn't you promised to be honest?” You stop dancing, and he steps back a little, an index finger on your chin, pulling your head up until you're looking into his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“I... The dress is absolutely beautiful but... My back is all wreck and it looks so awful that... This dress wasn't made me someone like me... It just... My skin is still all bruised and...”

“I don't care. You're beautiful.”

Biting your lip, you have to control yourself. You want so badly to kiss him... And when he says things like this it only gets worse. “If you keep saying things like that I might end up thinking you like me so... Don't.”

“Maybe I want you to think that.”

“What?” As you speak, some sort of alarm goes off. Two loud beeps. A pause. Them two more beeps. “What's that?”

“Something happened. Something bad.” Bruce pulls you close suddenly, placing a kiss on your forehead. Your whole body burns, and you gasp for air. “I'm sorry, I'll have to go.”

“It's ok. Go get them, Batman.” You say with a smile, watching as he steps away, slowly at first, before turning around and leaving.

Alfred serves you dinner, and he also acts more kindly. Then you go to bed, the feeling of Bruce's lips on your forehead still burning. You're almost falling asleep when the door is opened, and a very worried Bruce makes you sit up abruptly.

“Hi.”

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.” He comes to sit beside you, and you hear a noise, like an airplane coming closer. “There's another Task Force X mission. And they demand you to go.”

“What?” It's hard to process what he's saying. “No.” You push yourself backwards until your back hits the headboard. “What- what do you mean?”

“There was nothing I could do.”

“No,” you repeat, hands covering your face. “Tell them I won't go.” You made a decision today, that you want a different life. Now, this... This can't be happening. Not now. Not when you're finally putting yourself back together. “Bruce, please.” You're crying, suddenly moving into his arms, tugging on his shirt. “I don't want to go.”

“Listen.” Bruce holds both your shoulders, his intense eyes on yours. “You're a strong woman. I'm sorry you have to do this and I promise... I promise you I'll never let them make demands of you again. You won't be their prisoner anymore.”

“Bruce...” You beg, eyes closing as you realize this noise is from their ship. They're already coming to take you.

“Listen.” He cups your face. “You'll track down some terrorists. They attacked a small town in New Mexico. You'll be doing something good, helping people.”

“Like you?” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“Like me, yes.” A quick smile crosses his lips. “I will free you from them. I promise.”

“But I'll come back here, right?”

“Yes. They'll bring you here when the mission is over.”

The noise gets louder and louder until it stops. They're here.

Bruce walks beside you, silently. You're shaking like a leaf. When you reach the front door, you hear people talking. Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself that you can do this. You have to. Because you have to come back.

“Are you–”

You let the impulse fulfill its purpose this time. Pulling Bruce by the collar of his shirt, you tiptoe, crushing your lips on his. You swear you feel a little dizzy, but you don't give him time to react. Stepping back, your strength suddenly renewed, you open the front door and face the guards that came here to take you away.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce #bruce imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #ben affleck batman #imagine batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #Justice League imagine #justice league imagine

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wonder-womans-ex · 3 years

Text

Curtain Call

Act One, Scene Six - Frontcloth

“Hey, wait up!”

Sirius turns around. He’s not sure he knows the girl who’s waving at him from two rows down, and he panics for a moment. Should he know her?

In any case, he waits by the door for her to catch up to him. Her dark mop of curls bounces up and down as she jogs, and she’s panting slightly by the time she reaches him. “Hi!”

“Hi.”

“You’re new, aren’t you? I saw you last week, but you left before I could talk to you. I’m Dorcas Meadows.”

“Sirius Black.” He hopes she’s not going to ask him on a date.

“Like the star? That’s cool. Anyway, there’s a couple of us who get together after these things. Talk, eat—you know the drill. Wanna join us?”

Sirius hesitates. He doesn’t, really, but he also wants to be polite. He’s just wondering how to let her down gently when she says the magic words: “We’re going to Frankie’s.”

“Okay, I’m in.”

Grinning, Dorcas walks past him into the hall. “Grab your stuff and come on, then. Group’s leaving in two.”

He feels himself grinning back. He hasn’t been part of ‘the gang’ since he graduated high school—since Peter went down to college in the states and he and James parted ways with the rest of their class.

James is more like his brother, anyway. Sirius needs some friends.

He stuffs his paper into his backpack. It crumples slightly, but he ignores that in favour of doing up the zipper at practically the speed of light and swinging it over one shoulder. He’s stalled a moment by his shoelace catching on the leg of his chair, but then it’s out the door and into the hallway he goes.

Dorcas is waiting for him, holding open the elevator door, and it seems as though, contrary to what she said, everyone else has already left.

“Ground floor?” he asks, and she nods.

By the time the elevator opens and she gestures for him to step out first, they’re engaged in conversation. Common ground has been discovered in two places: neither of them much likes pumpkin pie, and they agree that ‘shit’ is the best swear word.

It’s not until they’re outside, both shivering slightly—he could swear it wasn’t this cold earlier—that Dorcas spots the rest of the group. “Over here,” she says, leading him over to five others he vaguely recognizes from the seminar, all around nineteen or twenty.

The first to spot him is a man with vivid ginger hair, broad shoulders, and an even broader smile. He nudges the man beside him—tall and blond with the facial bone structure of a Greek god—who in turn pokes a short, pixielike woman in the arm. Soon, everyone’s eyes are on Sirius, and he’s thankful that Dorcas is quick to introduce him.

“I got him!” she says, with significantly more excitement and enthusiasm than Sirius thinks he’s worth. “Lured him in with the promise of Frankie’s. Everyone, meet Sirius—like the celestial body, not the adjective. Sirius, meet Alice,” —she points to pixie girl— ”Alice’s boyfriend Frank,” —a plain-looking man with pale blue eyes and incredibly thick, dark eyebrows— “Fabian,” —this is the ginger— “Fabian’s boyfriend Caradoc,” —here she indicates Mr. Cheekbones— “And Mary.”

Sirius is surprised that he managed to miss Mary on his initial scan; she has red and purple streaks in her light brown hair and her vibrant blue tracksuit makes him want to make a ‘The-90’s-wants-its-clothes-back’ joke. He only manages to stop himself, in fact, when Dorcas asks, “Where are Green and Moony?”

It’s Caradoc who answers. “They went on ahead. We’re meeting them there.” Sirius wonders who they’re talking about, but he doesn’t ask.

He learns pretty quickly that everyone has their dynamics. This group of friends he’s been invited to tag along with may be at least partially open to new members, but he’s not one of them yet.

Lagging back slightly with Dorcas, he notices a few things:

Fabian and Caradoc are the kind of couple you would never in a million years notice unless you already knew about them. Their way of interaction is a lot more playful punches and friendly teasing than hand-holding and longing glances (though there is, to be fair, still a decent amount of that). It’s clear to him they’ve been a couple for a long time, and close friends for an even longer time before that, too.

Frank is obviously a little afraid of Alice—their relationship is probably relatively new, then. He loves her, as Sirius can tell by the way he smiles whenever she talks, but he’s still a little afraid of getting on her bad side. Sirius can’t blame him—Alice is fiery; her temper is quick to rise and quicker to boil over.

The one who interests him the most is Mary. Contrary to what is suggested by her bold clothing choices, she’s quiet—not shy, per se, but she doesn’t really speak much unless she absolutely has to. In fact, Sirius only hears her say one thing the entire walk to Frankie’s, and it’s, “But that won’t matter once we’re all dead.” (So she’s the cynical type, then. She and Remus would get along—he, too, greatly enjoys dark humour.)

...Oh, fuck.

Remus.

Remus who’s helping teach the seminar.

Remus who said he knew a lot of people in the class already.

Remus who’s sitting right there, across from Lily, in booth seven.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #lily evans #remus x sirius #muggle au #university au #post breakup #I hate this chapter because it's short and bad but WHATEVER

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psychosistr · 4 years

Photo

SHUSH/FOWL Double Agent “Maravilla”

Art by @thefriendlyfour (thanks for the character designs, and thanks to @starlightmoth for help with the dress designs!), full bio below the cut.

Physical Description: A tall and lovely purplish jay with purple feathers across most of her body except for the black feathers on her chest, neck, and most of her head. “Hair” feathers are two-toned with the outside/top being black and the inside being purple. While working for SHUSH, her hair is kept tied up in a bun that only shows the black part of her hair as per protocol to keep it neat, but one long, wavy strand of black bangs always hangs down on the right side of her face. While working for FOWL or off the clock, she figuratively and literally lets her hair down and reveals her true colors in a natural Bolivian-style loose wave with both colors of hair on full display. Beak is purple with black lipstick while in her FOWL outfit.

Outfit: Has two main outfits that she’s seen in- one for SHUSH and one for FOWL.

Her SHUSH outfit is in the standard grey suit-style with a white button-up shirt beneath the traditional grey coat. Skirt ends just above her knees and has pockets below her black leather belt with a circular silver buckle. Accessories are kept simple while working with SHUSH, sticking to black french-heel style back-seam stockings, black loafer-style heels, silver oval-framed glasses, a black neck tie with a white ivory marigold-shaped tie pin, and a matching black hair band with a white marigold-shaped piece on the front to hold up her hair bun.

Her FOWL outfit is a far cry from her SHUSH one, going with a stream-lined but figure-flattering red sleeveless asymmetrical halter-top dress. The bottom of her gown is lined with black down feathers (she’ll never say if they’re real or fake) and the right side has a black marigold-outlined pattern. Her accessories are much flashier than her SHUSH outfit, too, consisting of a gleaming silver chain-link belt that doubles as a hand-wrap for martial arts when necessary, a golden-chained necklace with a black onyx stone carved into a marigold, matching golden bangles and rings with round onyx stones, sheer black thigh-high stockings with black lace garter belts, and shiny black ankle-strap platform heels with tiny silver marigold-shaped buckles.

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Extremely flirtatious lesbian.

Age: 28

Nicknames: Mara, Mari, Marigold, Vi, Ms.Flores.

Real Name: Marisol Flores

Background:

Born in Bolivia, Marisol Flores lived what many would consider an average life. She had a nice family that wasn’t too cold or too forgiving, lived comfortably middle class, and graduated from high school with good enough grades to get into her desired college with a decent amount of grant money.

While her life was comfortable, Marisol never really held any passion for her studies and quietly worried that she was just doing what was expected of her- something that would eventually lead her to an unsatisfying but stable job with an unsatisfyingly mundane future.

On her way to class one day, though, Marisol’s future took a drastic turn: She took a less crowded route to school and stumbled into a battle between a small team of FOWL and SHUSH agents. At first, she was scared of being caught in the crossfire and possibly dying. Soon, however, that fear turned to excited adrenaline and she realized that, for the first time in her life, she felt truly ALIVE.

After surviving the firefight unnoticed and unharmed, Marisol devoted her time to finding out more about the groups she saw that day. It took a few years and a lot of digging to find out who exactly both FOWL and SHUSH were (most of her methods being less than legal), but the thrill of excitement and danger spurred her on.

Finding connections to both organizations in Calisota, she scraped together her meager savings and bought a one-way ticket to America, leaving her hometown, as well as her family, and never looking back.

Marisol impressed both organizations at different times by locating their bases and asking for membership, proving her cunning and her worth by passing the dangerous tests and trials they put her through.

It’s unknown which organization she allied herself with first, but both believe her to be a double agent that they themselves planted within the enemy’s side- neither group knowing her true intentions or where her loyalties, if she has any, really lie.

Current Position:

Within SHUSH, Agent Maravilla is considered their top informant and “enemy information acquisition specialist”, providing them with information on FOWL’s more diabolical plans and less guarded bases/outposts.

Within FOWL, Agent Maravilla is a valuable mole planting viruses in SHUSH’s computer systems, sending copies of their most confidential documents, and tipping FOWL off to any banks currently providing funds to SHUSH so they can “coincidentally” be robbed later.

Personality:

Maravilla is best defined by three traits: She is secretive, a massive flirt, and an adrenaline junky.

Always keeping people around her at arm’s length to avoid them finding out the true nature of her double-agent status and questioning her intentions, many of her fellow agents on both sides view Maravilla as an elusive and secretive enigma who will be there and gone before they can even blink.

Still, despite her natural stance on keeping her work matters a secret and being resistant to letting anyone in, she can never resist the chance to hit on a beautiful woman. She’s charming and smooth in her approaches, able to make more than a few supposedly straight women reconsider their sexual orientation.

For the ones she’s especially fond of, whether romantically or she just finds them fun to flirt/talk with, she’ll leave them a purple or red marigold as a token of affection/calling card with an otherwise anonymous gift of the lady-in-question’s favorite snack.

Delving even further into Maravilla’s psyche after getting past the secretive enigma and the charming flirt, though, lies a more adventurous side that is still, at its core, the reason she joined both organizations- her love of thrilling, life-or-death situations and the danger that comes with both jobs.

The more deadly the situation she’s in, the happier she is with it, often throwing her enemies off because they don’t know how to deal with someone so excited to nearly die.

“Surrender now or we WILL kill you!”

“Ooooh, really?! Come on then, do it!”

“I..uh...huh? What the heck is wrong with this woman..?”

Still, despite her adrenaline-junky nature, she’s not (completely) suicidal and will still take the opportunity to fight back or escape when it presents itself- often doing so at the last possible second to get the maximum danger-high she craves.

Interesting Bonus Facts:

Speaks Spanish and English on a regular basis, but also speaks Portugese and Aymara from time to time, even if it’s mostly to herself or to swear without being understood.

Fighting style involves quick, sharp slaps and hand-chops combined with devastating elbow strikes and sharp kicks/stomps from her deadly heels.

This style would best be described as the martial art of aikido.

Best example would be Anna Williams from the Tekken series.

Bonus note- she’d totally cosplay Anna given the chance.

In addition to her martial arts skills, she’s also known to keep some deadly backups hidden up her literal and metaphorical sleeves in the form of drugged needles hidden in the long-sleeves of her SHUSH uniform that can knock out enemies or make them hallucinate, as well as a few throwing knives strapped to the lacy garter belts of her FOWL clothing.

Has a soft spot for cheesy romance novellas and telenovelas, and will often be found reading/watching some in her free time or while waiting for a meeting.

Is surprisingly good at football since she played it with her siblings growing up.

Do not ever call it soccer around her or she will kick the ball right into your face.

Has deadly aim, even while wearing heels.

Could totally pull THIS off with ease.

Despite knowing it’s likely an unrealistic fantasy with the way she lives her life, Maravilla really DOES want to get a girlfriend (or possibly more than one, she’s not opposed to polyamory if she likes all parties involved) someday.

#double agent maravilla #dwd oc #dwd #darkwing duck #darkwing duck oc #my OC #Shush #fowl #thefriendlyfour

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thatbloodymuggle · 4 years

Text

The One With The Orange Juice

Beauty and the Beast 3/?

masterlist

September 2nd, 1975

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Er, eating my breakfast?"

"Not like that you're not!"

Edie's pleasant morning suddenly went to shit as her awaiting spoonful of Cheeri Owls cereal went flying out of her hand, across the table, and onto the floor, narrowly missing a very startled Lily Evans. The tired blonde whipped her head to the side to glare at Marlene who glared right back. "What the hell was that for?" Edie yelped.

"Don't tell me you were actually going to eat that," Marlene screeched back with a look of pure disgust. Edie rolled her eyes, not bothering to argue with her friend and instead reaching for another spoon, only to have her bowl snatched away. Beyond frustrated, Edie slammed her hands against the table and shot up. Of all people, Marlene should know not to mess with a hungry Edie.

"For Merlin's sake, can I please eat my breakfast in peace?!"

"Nope."

Across the table, Alice's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her two friends' behavior. "Marlene, what exactly is the issue?"

The freckled blonde huffed, aggressively shoving the bowl of cereal over to Alice, Lily, and Mary so they could see for themselves. Lily's reaction was almost instantaneous as she nearly spit out the milk she drinking. The witch let out a strangled cry, "Is that orange juice? Please don't tell me you were planning on eating your cereal in orange juice. Have you gone mad?!"

Utterly fed up with her friends' dramatics, Edie stomped away from her spot at the Gryffindor table. Could the poor girl not eat her cereal the way she pleased? Besides, her friends knew better than to annoy her this early in the morning-- especially when she was hungry. The blonde caught sight of a particular group of shaggy-haired pranksters yawning and rubbing their eyes. She made a beeline for them, hoping for better results.

Edie abruptly wedged herself between Sirius and James, startling the two boys as she hadn't announced herself. Still not saying a word, she snatched the box of Cheeri Owls from Peter to fill her own bowl before carelessly tipping the orange juice carton over it. All four boys raised an eyebrow at her to which she responded by shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

"What crawled up your arse this morning?" James snorted. His question was shot down with a glare to which he raised his hands in surrender. "Hey now, don't take it out on me."

The marauders continued on with their minimal, early morning conversation without a second thought. Edie eventually relaxed, relieved they hadn't questioned her odd breakfast combination. They probably hadn't even noticed it anyways-- James was too tired, Sirius had seen it before, and Peter, well, Peter had probably already tried it. Although, it was out of character for Remus not to notice. He typically picked up on the smaller things Edie did. At this thought, her eyes wandered up to meet his.

A small smile graced Remus's features, one of admiration if you looked hard enough, although confusion was present. He nodded towards the colorful contents of Edie's bowl with a raised eyebrow. His unspoken question should have annoyed the young girl, but she smiled back before offering a spoonful to him. The soft smile didn't leave his face and he politely declined with a small shake of his head. Edie shrugged, feeding herself the awaiting spoonful instead. Her eyes went back to her food, but his remained trained on her as he blindly sipped his tea.

Their wordless conversation went unnoticed as the five Gryffindors finished their meals quickly in preparation for the day ahead.

"So what have we got today?" asked James.

The five of them pulled out their timetables. Edie and James simultaneously groaned upon seeing they had double Potions first thing in the morning with Slytherin, which was closely followed by Divination. Edie had come to immensely regret signing up for Divination as one of her electives in her third year. The only saving grace was that she had James, Sirius, and Marlene to help her get through it. As she scanned her schedule, Edie realized the only thing she had to look forward to was Charms with Hufflepuff in the afternoon, a class she had always taken a liking to.

"Come on you two, Potions isn't that bad" Peter laughed at James and Edie.

Sirius added, "Slughorn is so oblivious. If you don't show up, he probably won't even notice as long as his favorites are there."

Remus rolled his eyes as the four pointedly looked at him.

"It's not Slughorn that sucks. It's Snivellus. If he gets in my way of sitting next to Lily again, he won't live to see tomorrow," James grunted with a pout. His breakfast suddenly looked very unappealing. The rest of his friends merely laughed.

"Oh, James, always the dramatic," Sirius teased.

The group of friends hurried to finish their food and students began filing out of the Great Hall. Soon enough, they were following the crowd, though with a quicker pace than normal due to James's determination to sit next to his one true love.

The group of pranksters were one of the last to arrive, as they scanned the room and realized most seats had been taken. Lily and Severus sat together in the very front, and Edie could practically see the smoke coming out of James's ears. Disgruntled, he huffed and sat down at a table with Sirius in the back. Peter scurried over to take the empty seat next to Mary, who smiled at him awkwardly. This left Remus and Edie at the table across from Marlene and Alice, who grinned apologetically at Edie due to their earlier encounter.

Before she could get a word out, Professor Slughorn's cheery voice filled the rather drab classroom. "Welcome back! I hope you all enjoyed your time off, but now you begin your 5th year at last! Now, as you all know, your performance in this class will be very important; much more important than in years past, because you'll be taking your OWL's at the close of the year..." Slughorn's voice seemed to drone on forever, "soon you all will begin to brew an alihotsy draught with your partners to test how much you've been keeping up with your summer work. As you should already know, the alihotsy draught causes the drinker to erupt in hysterical laughter and has been known to last for hours. While seemingly harmless, it can actually be quite painful without an antidote..."

Edie tuned him out and felt herself slipping into the world inside her head. Her mind wandered to her brother, Evan, and how she hadn't seen him since boarding the train, then to her cat, Piggy, and how he was probably still curled up in bed, then to--

"What the hell?"

Something hit her in the back of her head, bringing her back to reality. Edie whipped around to glare at Sirius and James who sat behind her laughing silently. She bent over to grab the crumpled piece of parchment they had thrown from the ground. Remus peered curiously over her shoulder. She cautiously unfolded it as if something were about to jump out. Nothing jumped out, but what was inside wasn't any better. Edie felt the blood rushing to her face and she didn't hesitate to rip up the very graphic drawing of her and Remus the two idiots had made.

Sirius and James were trying so hard to contain their laughter that their faces had gone purple. The blonde shot them the nastiest look she could muster, "I'm going to hex you two dimwits so hard you'll forget your own names, I swear-"

"Ms. Rosier, is there a problem?" Professor Slughorn shot her a look. The entire class turned their heads to look at her. Edie's blush deepened to the point she now looked like a cherry. Lily shot her an apologetic look, knowing Edie had been provoked by her least favorite marauders. Severus, who sat next to Lily, glared at her as if disrupting Potions was a crime worthy of time in Azkaban.

"No, sir," Edie forced out. Slughorn continued with his monotonous lecture, leaving a now embarrassed and fuming Edie. She shyly glanced at Remus out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were already trained on her with a look of sympathy.

"Don't let them get to you, they'll get what they deserve. Who knows, maybe a couple drops of the alihotsy draught might just slip into their evening pumpkin juice. That'll keep them laughing for sure," Remus whispered, while pretending to itch his nose so Slughorn wouldn't notice. Edie sent him a mischievous look and a smirk took over her face. Sure enough, Slughorn then instructed them to begin brewing their draughts.

Remus and Edie chatted quietly as they collected their ingredients and prepared their cauldron. The previous incident went forgotten as they worked together on perfecting their potion. Remus told the blonde about his trip to Spain over the summer, and Edie told the boy about her adventures in the Rosier Manor with her sidekick, Piggy. The two-hour long class went by quickly and before they knew it, their draught was the perfection consistency and color.

"Well," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "I can clearly see who has been keeping up with their work," he shot a pointed smile at Lily and Severus's table, as well has Remus and Edie's, "and who hasn't," he glanced at Peter and Mary's abysmal attempt that had resulted in an explosion. "I'm afraid the time has come for me to send you off. Your homework is to read up on antidotes and be ready to discuss them next class. Now, off you go!"

Edie made quick work of filling a spare vial with the draught they had created and shoving it in the pocket of her robes. Remus chuckled, "Just don't let me hear anything about it. Technically, I'm now a mandatory reporter as part of my prefect duties."

Edie looked back blankly, "Remus, I have no idea what you're talking about. Nothing suspicious here."

The pair smiled at each other one last time before Edie was dragged away by Marlene. "It's time to discover our tragic futures, Edith, and the planets won't wait for us. Can't be late!"

Edie glowered at her chipper friend who had locked their arms together and attempted to skip down the hall. "Don't call me Edith," she spit. "Do I look like an 80-year-old woman?"

"Oh come on, Edie. Who shit in your cereal this morning?" Marlene laughed as if she'd just made the best joke in the entire world. Edie attempted to shoot her another venomous look, but the cereal incident was long forgotten, and she couldn't keep the smile from creeping onto her face.

"Shut up"

The pair of blondes climbed the stairs to the North tower. "Seems like Remus cheered you up, didn't he?" Marlene hummed with a smirk.

The Rosier girl groaned and stomped up the next few steps, "Don't tell me you've been talking to Dumb and Dumber! Can I not even look at Remus without being harassed?"

Marlene's blue eyes brightened, "Wait, the boys are onto it too? That's the best news I've heard all day, now we can join forces! Love is in the air, my dear Edith!" Marlene made kissy faces at her friend and slumped dramatically onto her shoulder, only to be shoved off.

"Oh, quit it, will you? Or else I'll tell Peter you're madly in love with him."

This seemed to shut Marlene up in an instant. The pair of friends were panting at this point, having neared the top of the castle. The smell of incense flooded Edie's senses as they climbed up the ladder into the small classroom. She groaned at the sight of the burning fire in the already boiling room. Their Divination professor, Baggott, never turned it off despite the classroom already being the hottest part of the castle.

Professor Baggott had beady little eyes, but wore a monocle so thick that his right eye looked as if it was about to pop out of its socket. He had a very evident bald patch at the top of its head, but kept the rest of his long, unkept hair in a ponytail. To top it all off, he walked with a purple, bedazzled cane. He was a nutter, to say the least, always going on and on about the position of Mars and the misfortune of prime numbers.

Marlene and Edie shared a knowing look as they settled themselves for what would be a very long class. Before either could voice their thoughts, Edie was hit in the back of the head for a second time that morning. She didn't need to turn around to see Sirius and James crying with laughter behind her. She was prepared to throw the crumpled piece of parchment into the fire, but it was snatched out of her hands by Marlene. Edie's friend shrieked in laughter at the sketch of Edie and Remus, this one even more explicit than the last. Fed up with James and Sirius's childish behavior, Edie chucked the stupid thing into the fire just as Baggott limped into the classroom.

She huffed and buried her head into her hands. Could this day go by any slower?

"Lily, I've never missed your sweet, sane presence more!"

Edie jumped into the ginger's arms who laughed at her dramatics. "I swear, they're all driving. me mad! Even Marlene," Edie moaned. Marlene, who walked next to them, merely laughed. The five Gryffindor girls, Edie, Marlene, Lily, Alice, and Mary walked into the Great Hall together; well, four of them walked. Edie was still being carried by Lily.

"And I've never wanted to eat dinner more. At least that can't be spoiled by stupid sketches or professors or assignments," she sighed at the tables full of delicious food and talking students. The five girls sat themselves towards the middle of the Gryffindor table, a couple of yards away from the marauders. They quickly engaged in conversation as they began their food.

"You'll never believe the Care of Magical Creatures class Mary and I had today. We got to see unicorns! Real, live unicorns!" Alice spoke animatedly. Lily, Marlene, and Edie's eyes lit up with interest.

"Yeah, and we got to pet them too! I swear, they were the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen," Mary added. Lily and Marlene chimed in to discuss their classes, but Edie's gaze drifted over to the boys. Those stupid, unknowing smirks of theirs. She felt for the potion in her pocket. Now was the time.

"Did you see Elizabeth Birket today? I think she got a nose job over the summer, but looks like they botched it pretty bad," Edie spoke just loud enough so the boys would hear.

The four girls shot Edie a look of confusion, but she ignored them. She watched as Sirius, Peter, and James's heads whipped around to the Ravenclaw table to catch sight of the girl who Sirius thought to be the most attractive woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Edie worked quickly and sprinted two paces to their part of the table. Covering Remus's eyes with her hand, she dumped one part of the potion in Sirius's goblet and the other in James's.

Edie slid back over to her seat just as Sirius, Peter, and James turned back around with a sigh of relief that Elizabeth's nose was, in fact, the same as always. Marlene, Alice, and Mary seemed amused at her antics, while Lily gave her a cautioning glance. "Edie, what was that? Nothing dangerous, I hope? You know I don't want to get you in trouble," Lily scolded.

"Oh, don't worry, dear Lilypad," Edie referred to James's favorite nickname to which Lily shivered in disgust. "Nothing dangerous at all. More amusing, actually. Really just a good laugh."

Just as the words left Edie's mouth, boisterous laughter erupted from the boys. Sirius and James had nearly fallen off the bench they were laughing so hard.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Why are you?"

"I don't know, but I can't stop!"

"Me neither, Sirius, I can't feel my ribs!"

"I can't breathe!"

Their ruckus had turned quite a few heads, and Edie tried her best to stifle her own laughter as Peter and Remus hauled the two laughing boys out of their seats and escorted them to the Hospital Wing. Remus shot Edie a knowing wink as he passed. As soon as they had left their view, the girls burst into fits of giggles.

"See, Lily? Just a laugh!"

Lily sighed and shook her head at Edie, but couldn't fight the grin creeping onto her face.

"You know, serves them right," Mary piped up. "It's about time they start getting a taste of their own medicine." The girls all nodded in agreement and continued their meal. "I hope Madam Pomfrey is missing the antidote."

"But you better watch out, Edie. They're definitely going to get you back for that," Marlene said through a mouthful of baked chicken. Edie shrugged. It's not like this was her first time messing with the messrs themselves. The Gryffindor girls ate until they could barely walk. They began their long trek back to the Gryffindor tower, feeling full and light-hearted.

"Wattlebird," Lily spoke to the Fat Lady who swung open. The five girls clambered into the common room, flopping onto the couches.

Marlene groaned, "I've never felt more full in my entire life." The other four nodded in agreement. Lily mumbled something about starting her homework, but work was certainly not on Edie's agenda for that night. She didn't have anything due the next day, and was definitely not paining herself with Divination.

"I think tonight's an early night," Edie sighed and rolled off the couch, "I'm too tired to think straight."

"But what about your homework? Edie, you should get ahead now so--"

Edie threw her hand up, effectively cutting Lily off. She dragged herself towards the stairs leading up to their dormitory. "If James and Sirius ask, I ran off to live with a band of hippogriffs. Goodnight, dears!"

She shot her friends one last wave before climbing up the stairs. Her bed had never sounded more appealing. The exhausted girl barely kept her eyes open while changing out of her schools clothes. The moment her head hit her pillow, Edie felt herself slipping into a deep sleep clouded by an oddly familiar pair of hazel eyes.

#remus lupin #remus #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin smut #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #Sirius Black #james potter #Marauders #marauders era

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galadrieljones · 4 years

Text

That he may hold me by the hand - Chapter 13

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes and Situations, Violence, and Sexual Content)

Summary: After saving Albert from stumbling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph

Chapter 13: You came into my soul, like a song.

The spurs in the hallway belonged to John. Just John. He knocked. Albert opened the door.

“Hey, Mr. Mason,” said John. He looked a little sweaty, as if he’d been riding a long time. “Is Abbie here with you?”

“Yes, she is,” said Albert. “Do come in.”

“John Marston,” said Abigail, a kind of angry relief as they greeted at the door. They held both their hands together, but the intimacy between them was suppressed, it wasn’t free. He knew from what Arthur had told him, they’d been having a lot of problems, but they were working through it. “Where’s Arthur?” she said.

“Don’t worry,” said John. “Arthur is fine. He just had to run an errand.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“He said it would be best. He went back to Shady Belle.”

“Shady Belle,” said Albert. “Did he say why?” He felt hypertensive all of sudden. Jack stirred in his sleep. He glanced on instinct.

“He’s going to see Mary Beth,” said John. He removed his hat. “He’s giving her some money, so she can leave.”

“You shouldn’t’ve let him go alone,” said Abigail.

“He’s better all by himself,” said John. He looked at Albert, his scars muffled in the dim light of the room. “It’ll be be okay. He’ll be back before morning. Told me to tell you not to wait up.”

Albert laughed to himself, looked down at his feet.

“Fat chance of that,” said Abigail. “Albert, you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Take Jack and go on back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said. She went over to the couch, scooped up the boy and he sort of flopped over her shoulder as a rag doll. He made little chewing motions with his jaw and ground his teeth in his sleep.

“I hate that,” said John. “Why does he do that?”

“Because you do it,” said Abigail. “Or, you used to.”

“I used to grind my teeth in my sleep?”

“Used to wake me up some nights, when we was in Denver City.”

“Shit,” said John, holding the door for her. “I didn’t know.”

“Thank you, Albert,” said Abigail. “For everything. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, of course,” said Albert, smiling. He handed her the parasol. Then, “John?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you—well, how did it go, on the job?”

John smiled and placed his hat back atop his head. “It went good,” he said. “We got the bastard alive, made some money. Arthur is fine, not a scratch on him. I swear.”

“Splendid,” said Albert. “I was just wondering.”

They said goodnight. John and Abigail went back to their room. Albert put on his jacket and his shoes and went down to the bar. There was nothing else to do. He ordered a whiskey and sat alone in a booth by the window. There was a man playing something on the piano and two woman dancing while drunk and smoking clove cigarettes. It reminded him of college. The bartender was throwing somebody out. There were enough people there, even after midnight, Albert blended right in.

Back at camp, it was very dark. The sky was purple, and it was a full moon, swimming in stars. Arthur had tied up Amelia somewhere far enough from the perimeter of Shady Belle that nobody would see her. Her white coat made her a most recognizable filly. He couldn’t risk it.

Midnight in the swamp, he heard Sadie playing on her harmonica. This meant there were not many about, as she would only play under the illustion of solitude. She was sitting in a chair on the edge of the river, near Strauss’s set-up, but Strauss was not around. He walked right up to her. She looked at him, set down the instrument and appeared embarrassed.

“That’s real nice,” he said. “You should play it more.”

“Arthur,” she said. “I heard rumors you was leaving.”

“I am,” he said. “I just came back first. I gotta find Mary Beth. Do you know where she is?”

“The house, I expect,” said Sadie. “She was in Rhodes for most of the day, but her and Tilly are back now.”

Arthur glanced up at the big old house, looming, haunted and alive with candles in the windows. “Is Dutch here.”

“I don’t think so,” said Sadie. “He left a little while ago.”

“Where’d he go?” said Arthur, lighting a cigarette.

“Not sure. But he was alone.”

Arthur smoked. This didn’t sit right. “Sadie, when I go, John’s coming, too. Things are gonna get…confusing.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Sadie. She pocketed the harmonica. “Me and Charles already talked about it. We’re looking after the vulnerable. Don’t you worry about that. You done your time.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur, thinking of Albert. “Thank you, Sadie.”

“So,” she said. She placed a cigarette between her lips but did not light it. “Who is she?”

“Excuse me?” said Arthur.

Somebody was coming up then, out of the darkness. Upon squinting, Arthur saw that it was Mary Beth. She wore a dark scarf over her hair. She was holding a basket full of orchids. “Arthur?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur tossed his cigarette and went toward her with conviction. “I came to see you.”

“Me? Why?”

“I gotta give you something,” he said. He tipped his hat to Sadie, then him and Mary Beth walked up the river bank some until it was they felt completely alone. The fireflies flickered over the tall grasses. The moonlight on the water was bright and still. Everywhere you could hear the sounds of the swamp in the evening, the bugs most of all. Arthur reached into his satchel. He withdrew a thick envelope and gave it to her. Enclosed within was $800.

“What’s this?” she said.

“It’s a gift, from me. A thank you, for taking care of me in my time of need, for being such a good friend. I’m going away, Mary Beth. Like you said I should. With Albert. I’m leaving the gang.”

She looked away, drew quiet. She did not seem surprised, only maybe, a little sad. “I figured as much,” she said, pushing back the scarf, revealing her curly hair, unkempt that night. “I talked to Albert, at the opening the other night. I know about his mother and the place in California.”

He sighed, looking at her, his hand on her shoulder. “I came back tonight to give you that envelope.”

“What is it?” she said. She set down the basket, opened the flap. “Arthur, is this money?”

“Yes,” he said. He removed his hat. “As much as I can spare. I want you to take it and get the hell out of here. Live your dream. Write your books. This ain’t no life for a woman such as you.”

“Arthur, I—” She was counting through the bills with her fingers. “This is too much. I can’t accept.”

“I don’t need it,” said Arthur. “You do.”

She looked up at him, her eyes very clear and reflecting all that light from the moon. They were filling with tears. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She looked down again, at the envelope. Then she placed it in her pocket. She embraced him. He held her on the river bank. “Thank you,” she said, sniffling into his vest. “I will put it to good use. I'll miss you, Arthur. I'll miss everybody, but I'll miss you most.”

“I know,” said Arthur into her hair. “I’ll miss you, too.”

She wiped her nose on her sleeve, smiled as they parted. She said, “It’s been quite a time.”

“Yes it has.”

“When you get to California, will you have an address?”

“I will,” said Arthur. “I wrote it in a letter there, inside that envelope. When you get wherever it is you’ll be for a while, you write to me. I wanna know you’re safe.”

“What about John and Abigail, and Jack?”

“They’re coming with us,” said Arthur. “You can come, too, if you want, Mary Beth. The invitation is open. But even if you don’t, that money is an unconditional gift. You owe me nothing. You go where you want, do what you want.”

She looked very starstruck, filled with longing. He knew she would not come. He knew that being close to him would hurt, and it was for the best that they part. She just smiled. “Thank you, Arthur. I think I’ll still go north.”

“Wisconsin?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Madison, maybe.”

“I wish you luck.” He covered her hands in his. “Be careful. Be quiet. Don’t get caught with your hand in nobody’s pocket. You hear?”

“I hear.”

“Good,” said Arthur. “I know you’ll be okay. You’re a smart woman.”

“I try.”

“I gotta go,” said Arthur. “We’re heading out by train in a week’s time. But until then, we’ll be lying low.”

“I’ll write you,” she said. “When I get up north. I promise.”

Arthur placed his hat back atop his head. “Okay, Mary Beth.”

They hugged one more time and said goodbye. Mary Beth went back to the house. Arthur stood up the river bank a little ways from Sadie who had once again begun to play her harmonica. It was the harmonica he had found for her, in a ridge line shack somewhere over in West Elizabeth so many months before. She looked at him, didn’t stop this time. She just nodded. She paused once to salute him as he went. He took one last look at the house and the camp and all of its murky innocence.

Albert was on his second glass of whiskey. He was reading the newspaper. It was an older edition, whatever the bartender had lying around. There was a story about a bank robbery, way up in Valentine. For a moment, he wondered. He lit a cigarette, which he ashed into a crystal ash tray. Thus far, nobody had approached him but saloon girls, looking for his order and lively conversation. Albert was a staple figure in the saloon by now. They asked him about Arthur. He said, “Arthur is well. Arthur will be back soon.” They all loved Arthur, too, though Arthur was more gruff and more likely to smile and nod than he was to chat. They still liked him. They liked that kind of stoicism in a man. It was reassuring. Made him seem strong. Albert understood in his heart of hearts that they all knew the truth by now, about him and Arthur. They must have, and yet, they did not judge him. They did not even ask.

“Howdy,” said a man’s voice, out of nowhere.

Albert looked up and saw a stranger.

“Hello,” he said.

The piano still went on in the background, real loud. The place was not raucous but it was bustling enough. The stranger was very tall, as tall as Arthur, thought Albert, perhaps even taller. He slid into the booth, across from Albert and folded his hands on the table. It was a presumptuous move. Albert wondered if, for a second, he was supposed to recognize him. He did not. The stranger removed his hat, had black hair curling behind his ears. He wore many gold rings, and at first, Arthur took him for a particularly ostentatious dandy, but upon further inspection, noticed the wear in knuckles, and the ornate engravings upon the handle of the gun in his belt. They were a lot like the ornate engravings in the various handles of Arthur’s guns.

Albert set down his paper. It was warm in the saloon, a little stuffy. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “How may I help you?” he said.

“It’s sure hot in here,” said the stranger. He adjusted his collar. “You’d think they’d open a…window or something.”

“Yes,” said Albert. “You’d think.” He waited patiently for the man to explain himself. He didn’t seem particularly drunk, or lost. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“Are you Albert Mason?” said the man. “The nature photographer?”

Surprised, Albert straightened up off the table. “I am,” said Albert.

“I thought so,” said the man, grinning, nodding. “What a wonderful happenstance, you should be here, tonight.”

“I suppose,” said Albert. “Were you at the opening, the other night? I don’t remember you, though it’s possible I did not meet everyone.”

“No, I was not,” said the man. “But one of my associates was there. He mentioned you, and your subject matter.”

“I see,” said Albert. “Well, thank you for stopping by, saying hello.” He smiled.

“You’re welcome,” said the man, looking around. He beckoned to one of the saloon girls, ordered a glass of scotch. The girl who came over, Josie, blushed upon his flirtatious charm. Then she went away, and the stranger sipped. “So, what’s Albert Mason, nature photographer, doing here in the saloon all alone on this fine evening?”

Albert set down his paper, folded it in half. Realizing he had been sucked into some sort of conversation with a man he did not know, he did his best to engage his social graces. Truth be told, however, they were rusty, and he was tired. “Nothing much,” he said. “Just enjoying a drink.”

“You live around here?”

“I do,” said Albert. “But only on a temporary basis.”

“Is that right?” said the man. Josie came back with the scotch. The man thanked her and called her my dear. “Where you headed?” said the man, sipping, once more. “I mean, when you leave St. Denis.”

“West,” said Albert, growing suspicious now. It was an odd question.

“West, huh?” said the stranger, stretching out his arms, casually resting them along the back of the bench. He had an enormous wingspan. Like the condors Albert had once photographed in Tallahassee. “Business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both,” said Albert. He folded his hands on the table. “Before we continue, might I ask your name? I mean, if we’re going to sit here, having a conversation at the saloon, I should know what to call you.”

“Oh,” said the man. He lit a cigar from his pocket. Puffed off the end. “I thought I’d introduced myself.”

“No, you did not.”

“My name is Dutch.” He placed the cigar between his teeth, held out his hand for a shake, “van der Linde. It’s extremely nice to meet you, Mr. Mason.”

“Ever since we fled Blackwater,” Abigail said that night, back in the room, the moonlight pitching through the windows, “Dutch has been…different. John, I’m scared.” Her hands were shaking as she smoked. They had been talking about the plan, going west to California. Jack was asleep on the bed. “I am ready to go, John. You know I am. But I’m scared that Dutch might view this as some sort of…mutiny. He ain’t stable. He’ll threaten your lives. You and Arthur. If he has his way, I just—”

“Hosea already knows the truth,” said John. “About Albert, and about us leaving, everything. He already gave Arthur his blessing.”

They could hear the piano downstairs. It was a pretty song, slow and dark.“You think Hosea can make Dutch see reason then?”

“Maybe,” said John. “It always was that way, growing up around them.”

“I don’t know,” she went on, smoking. “Maybe. I just—I still worry. I’m worried about you.”

“I know,” said John. “I know you are. Abbie, look at me.”

She was gazing at him then, stars in her eyes. She was softening. “You ain’t gonna flake out this time,” she said. “I can see it, in your eyes. That’s scaring me, too.”

“Why?” said John. “I swear it, Abbie. It’s different this time. I’m with you now. I promise. You and Jack.”

“How?” she said. “Why? What happened?”

John shrugged. He took the cigarette out of her hand and set it in the ash tray. Then he gathered her hands up into his own, so chivalrously, and he held her knuckles to his lips. “A lot of things happened,” he said. “Arthur helped me see all them things I done, bad things. To you and to Jack. I’m sorry. I’m gonna earn back your trust, if it’s the goddam last thing I do. And Arthur, he’s gonna help us out. The two of us, we got plans for once we get out there, maybe go in on a livery or something.”

“A livery?”

“Sure,” said John, squeezing her hands tightly. “Ain’t nobody better with horses than Arthur. And I ain’t so bad.”

“No, you ain’t,” said Abigail.

“It’s settled, okay?” said John. “You don’t need not worry. No more being afraid. I got this. Trust me, Abbie. Please, try. We’re leaving by train in one week.”

“What’ll we do till then?”

“Lay low,” said John. “We’ll stay here. Dutch ain’t gonna interfere. I’m gonna go back to Shady Belle myself, once, maybe in a couple days when things quiet down, get whatever it is we left back there, all our money. I’ll be real quiet about it, and then I’ll be back, and then we’ll disappear.”

“Disappear,” said Abigail.

“Go west,” said John. “I should have said, Go west. We ain’t disappearing. That’s Dutch’s point of view. From our point of view, we ain’t disappearing, Abbie. We’re starting over. Starting fresh. A new life.” He was smiling, real bright, and she believed him, because she wanted to.

Many years later, living in a humble ranch home in Carmel-by-the-Sea, Abigail would never again feel the unrelenting chill of winter in her bones, and she would drink French wine while wearing a long dress in late summer and remember how, amidst a life of scoundrels and sin, she had still somehow managed to surround herself with gentlemen.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #albert mason #arthur x albert mason #john marston #abigail roberts #dutch van der linde #that he may hold #thank you for your patience <3

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darksunrising · 4 years

Text

Sola Gratia (13/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : No particular warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 13/? (3475 words)

Author’s notes : Final episode of Act II ! I’m taking a little break to work on the plotline and real life stuff, but trust that I’ll stay active, and will be back soon with more chapters !

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

The Dark Knight came up to me, and Leah gave me a knowing look. The fiend. I stood up, nervously glancing around me, and handed him my handkerchief. He took hold of it, and carried it to his helmet as to kiss it. The crowd cheered loudly. They must have thought it was part of the entertainment. I still felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Gods, maybe it actually was a calculated plot, damn Leah and her scheming. If I trusted the look of the 'Royals', over on the opposite bleachers, not everyone knew... He tied the scarf around the grip of his lance, and I could swear I saw two lights gleam into the darkness of the helmet. I sat back down as he left, feeling dozens of looks on me as I tried to maintain some composure. Act the part. Be a noble lady. Think... Catherine de' Medici. There.

Vlad had his horse come into place with ease, as I barely saw him touch the reins. His adversary, ironically, was wearing red, mounted on a white horse, and looked massive compared to the slender, elegant silhouette of the dark rider at the other end of the jousting lists. I couldn't help but feel worried. He supposedly didn't risk anything, but the lances were wooden, for hell's sake. That's just taunting the Devil. Or God, maybe, in his case. Taking a deep breath, I waited anxiously for the sound of the horn.

The riders spurred their horses. They passed each other, once, twice, and a third time. The Red Knight made a move, and I saw his lance miss Vlad by inches. Not miss, exactly, as I saw him lean slightly to the side. I could picture his smug smile. That poor guy had no idea what was coming. Turning back in a cloud of sand, glimmering in the air, they galloped to meet again. This time, Vlad ran his spear into the Red Knight's pauldron, nearly having him fall off his horse. He caught on at the last moment, and I could swear I heard Vlad laugh.

They waited a second at the end of the lists, the Red Knight making his shoulder roll, brushing off his coach as he apparently came to make sure he was alright. He sent his his horse full speed at the sound of the horn, his best efforts insufficient to avoid him the lance that crashed into his shield, throwing him back into the dust, almost into the stands, which had a few people stand back.

Without a second look for his adversary, Vlad untied the handkerchief from his lance, and raised his arm in the air in celebration, under the loud cheers of the crowd. He jumped down from the horse, giving the steaming beast an affectionate pat on the shoulder. He walked straight towards me, and took off his helmet. The dark waves of his hair cascaded onto his shoulders, prompting a few audible gasps. I could feel my heart close to beating out of my chest. He was a conqueror, a cocky smile on his lips, the sun playing on his hair and the gold on his armor. He discarded his gauntlets and gloves, leaving them behind in the dust, eyes locked on mine. I stood up, almost knocking over my chair, playing into the role I had been given. He dropped his helmet at my feet with a loud clang of metal, and knelt down. He held up the handkerchief, and I laid my hand on his, allowing him to rise. He gently placed the shawl on my shoulders, lingering along my neck, enough that I could feel my veins pulsing against the tip of his fingers. His eyes hadn't left mine since he took off his helmet, and even under the midday heat, I felt goosebumps spread all over my body. He trailed along my arms, and took hold of both my hands, which he kissed, still not breaking his gaze. My chest heaving, I understood a little bit better why ladies tended to faint more often in corset-wearing time periods.

He then stepped back, leaving the jousting area after a last look, a wink, and a hand gesture at a young groom, who rushed to pick up his discarded pieces of armor after him. A bit overwhelmed, I sat back down, as the presenter closed the event over the cheering of the crowd.

“He wanted it to be a surprise”, Leah told me, eyes glimmering.

“Well, it certainly worked.”

She laughed, and dragged me along to the contender's tents. I caught a glimpse of the Red Knight, armor off. His shoulder had a massive purple bruise, and I couldn't help but wince. I sympathetically smiled at him, and he responded with a little wave. A bit further along, in a white and blue tent, the groom was helping Vlad undo the last pieces of armor, and carefully packing them up in a suitcase similar to the ones that had been Leah and I's dresses. He noticed us and flashed us a smile.

“That was great, Vlad !”, Leah exclaimed, coming up to give him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. “Damn, you didn't even break a sweat, did you ?”

“It takes a lot for that to happen”, he smugly replied, taking off his gambeson.

His shirt was open, and I found myself staring at his chest.

“Is everything alright, Eris, darling ? You seem a bit... hot”, he mocked, slipping on his vest.

“I'm fine”, I replied, looking away from both of them, as Leah seemed to revel in the whole situation.

He buttoned himself up, and I couldn't help but sneak a few peeks.

“Where did you learn to joust anyway, Vlad ?”, Leah asked, understandably curious.

“Well, I enjoy horseback riding, and the Middle Ages, what can I say ?”, he replied as the groom clasped on his livery collar.

The kid looked up to him in awe, which had me a bit suspicious. I narrowed my eyes at Vlad, and stepped closer to him, putting myself so that Leah couldn't see my gestures. I pointed at the boy with a nod, discreetly tapping on my neck. He took an almost wounded expression for a second.

“Eris, I care about my diet, I don't run around taking drinks from stable boys”, he whispered, falsely offended.

I hummed, not entirely convinced, and he draped himself in his cape.

“Aren't you guys hungry ?”, Leah asked, putting down the bracer she was trying on. “I'm starving, and I heard there's a huge buffet in the castle hall !”

“I have to say, I worked up my apetite”, Vlad replied, looking down on me.

I loudly sighed, and took his arm, following Leah outside.

~ ~ ~

The rest of the day was tiring, at least for me, as Vlad obviously didn't ever feel fatigued, and Leah was endlessly fueled by what could only be rainbows and kitten unicorns. Night started falling the sky taking vivid colors as we made our way to the town square, lit by candles and a large bonfire. A band was playing dancing music, and the air was filled with indistinct chattering and laughter. Leah holding onto my arm, Vlad taken in one of his heist stories, my heart felt so full, I was physically unable to stop smiling.

“Oh, I see something that needs my attention”, Leah suddenly exclaimed. “See you later, you two.”

She let go of my arm, freed a few strands of hair to frame her face, and cheerfully strolled to the bar. Her confidence astounded me.

“I like her”, Vlad told me with a little laugh.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Tell me, did you ever get to practice your dancing ?”, he asked, innocently.

“Oh, no.” I tried to get away. “I'm not dancing ! You got me once, but not twice !”

“Oh, I think I am.”

He caught my hand, and brought us close to the fire, indifferent to my protestation. Once arrived, he had me spin around, and brought me back against his chest. Feeling his breath against my neck, I forgot how to speak a second.

“Follow my lead, I promise I will be less... Boorish than last time.”

I groaned, and relaxed in his arms. I had to focus every fiber of my being not to trip on the pavement with my shoes, but Vlad actually supported me so much I felt half my weight was lifted off. I never liked dancing, to be honest. I had a terrible sense of rhythm, and it reminded me awfully of some family gatherings I'd rather forget.

With Vlad, it felt... Different. Not great, mind you, it still was a bit aggravating, but I started to understand why people like it so much. Vlad picked me up like I weighed nothing, and spun me around. I couldn't help but laugh, and he joined me. His eyes were gleaming with the light of the flames. The music faded out to a slower tune. Vlad slowly put me down, keeping a hand on my waist, the other looking for mine. I intertwined my fingers with his, letting him pull me close, trying to breathe away the erratic beating of my heart.

“I can hear that, you know”, he teased.

I pouted at him. “Then close your ears, it's embarrassing.”

“I would rather say endearing.”

I looked up at him. He wanted to look smug, but most of his expression was tender, calm. I could have looked into his eyes for hours, the deep blue, washed over with the bright gold of the fire. Every step, he kept me close, only letting me go to spin me around, slowly, only enough to make the skirt flare. It might have looked beautiful to watch, if we hadn't been the only two people there, dancing around the candles.

“I want you to feel safe, with me.”

His voice was gentle, his gaze, even more so.

“I do”, I told him, moving my hand from his shoulder to cup his face.

He closed his eyes a second, leaning into my palm. I brushed my thumb across his cheekbone. Cold, soft.

“I have come to... care a great deal about you”, he continued.

“I can see that happening, me being a giant, walking Bloody Mary”, I retorted.

“Do you always resort to humor when someone tries to be serious with you ?”

He was smiling.

“I just- I don't know how to respond to that-”

“Then don't.”

He let go of my hand, leaving it placed on his chest, and slid his into my hair.

“You're going to mess up the-”

“I don't care.”

Freeing his arms, he lifted me up. I was so close I couldn't focus on the details of his face. The tip of his nose brushing against mine, his breath, short, trembling. He was waiting, expectantly. Whispered my name. My feet hovering above ground, my heart beating so hard in my chest it was almost painful, I closed my eyes, and- got a phone call.

“It's Leah's ringtone”, I said.

She never called if it wasn't urgent. Vlad put me down, and I glanced around. She was nowhere to be seen, which would explain why she felt the need to call at that exact moment. When I reached my phone through the layers of fabric, it already stopped ringing.

“It's not like her”, I started, starting to get nervous.

“Eris, do not panic”, Vlad told me, his voice somewhat calming my nerves. “She was with someone, wasn't she ?”

I did get a glimpse at her, while we were still dancing. She was at the bar, chatting up a woman in men's period costume.

“Yeah, but not well. She had very long, silver-ish hair, I think. Fair skin.”

If it was possible, Vlad paled, and gripped my shoulders.

“Call her again, now.”

His tone beckoned urgency, and I obeyed immediately. She picked up fast, but her voice didn't greet me.

“She looks so pretty, don't you think ? Better run fast, before it flows out. Garden overlooks, ten minutes.”

The hanging up tone knocked the wind out of my chest, and I almost fell to my knees. Vlad enquired about the call. I didn't even reply, and ran to the bar, asking for a map of the city, almost hysterical. Someone handed me a folded over leaflet. I thanked him, and quickly tried to find my way around the maze of streets. Right, left, left, up stairs, big door, left, and straight across. I tucked the map in the lacing of my dress, and started running, Vlad following without question. I cursed when I almost fell, and slipped off the cursed shoes, running barefoot into the streets. Thankfully, most of the tourists were gone, and no one crossed my way.

“Tell me where to go, I can get there faster”, Vlad told me.

“Garden overlook”, I hissed.

He nodded, and next thing I knew, he vanished. I kept on running, cursing at the corset making my breath short. I don't think I ever climbed stairs that fast in my entire life, and hurried through the huge door, carved into the high walls surrounding the gardens. As I tried to work the handle, to find it locked. Fuck !

Considering the height of the wall, I looked around for another way in. Luckily for me, it wasn't higher than a dozen feet, and I was a decent climber. Hiking up my skirts, I placed a foot on a ledge, and caught on to a space made by a missing brick. As I was almost halfway up, the door creaked on its hinges, and Vlad appeared in the frame.

“What in the name of all things Unholy do you think you are doing ?”, he cursed.

“Finding a solution !”

He urged me to jump down, and I did, leaving him to catch me. Not losing any time, we rushed into the gardens. Left, straight across. I finally found two silhouettes, standing next to the wall, on the overlook. I tried to cry out Leah's name, came out empty. As I arrived, she turned to face me, a look of utter incomprehension on her features. She was fine. Fine ! Panting, I tried to catch my breath. She let go of the other woman's hand, and rushed towards me, putting her hands to the sides of my face.

“Eris, what happened ? What's wrong ?”

What's wrong ? Leah, you- Oh. I can't speak. I tried breathing in, wheezing, and started feeling lightheaded. Vlad's arms wrapped around me, and I noticed I was falling. Going limp, I looked over at Leah. Her lips were moving, yet I couldn't hear her words. I felt a cool hand slip under my bodice, a ripping sound, and air rushed to my lungs. I took a moment to take my breath back, and glanced around. Vlad was holding me, but his look was directed elsewhere. Sitting on the parapet, the woman stared right back. The more I regained consciousness, the more I could make out her features. She was athletic, tall, and had incredibly long, silver hair, gleaming under the moonlight. Her eyes were an icy blue, and her pupils were two tiny specs of light at the center of the iris. A glance, and she terrified me. As I took some of my strength back, I slipped my hand into my skirts, and pulled out my gun. Leah had an exclamation of surprise, and I directed the barrel directly at the woman.

“Oh, Eris”, she laughed. “You must be much more naïve than I thought, to think this would do you any good.”

She hopped off, and started walking toward us.

“And you, too cocky”, I replied, pulling the hammer back, finger on the trigger.

“Carmilla, stop.”

Vlad's voice was much darker than I had ever heard it. I had never heard him angry, and I never really wanted to. The woman, obeyed, standing at a respectable distance from us. I didn't lower my weapon, still leaning against Vlad for support. For once, Leah seemed completely speechless.

“What do you want ?”, he asked, seemingly calm, holding an arm around me.

“What do I want, Drac ?”, she purred, taking a step forward. “Well, for starters, some introductions. If I didn't know you better, I'd almost think you didn't want me meeting your latest pets.”

“Don't”, he snapped at her.

“Fine, your friends, if that's what you call your snacks, these days”, she sighed, shrugging.

“Carmilla, I am giving you one, and only one warning. Leave.”

I felt his hand clench.

“Leave ? I'm not here because I enjoy your company, especially when you're in one of your phases, Drac.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her face taking a deadly serious expression. “I'm here because the Council sends me, because they know I'm the only one who has the slightest chance of making you come to your fucking senses.”

“What I do in my free time is no concern of the Council, which I preside, might I remind you ?”

He spoke through his teeth, seething with anger. His arm coiled tighter around me, almost hurting me.

“That you presided, past tense”, she jabbed. “Since that stupid fucking incident, more than a century ago, you haven't gone to any meeting, any reunion, not even responded to any damn fucking letter ! I had to do your job, while you what ? Sulked and brooded in your castle, and flirted around with mortals ?”

“Do not push me, Carmilla.”

She ran her hands through her hair, grasping at it, and started pacing.

“No, I think I will push you !”, she shouted. “You left us alone, for your own selfish fucking reasons, and the moment you finally decide to get out of your what, ongoing midlife crisis ? You start wreaking havoc, and putting MINA back on our asses, when we spent decades putting them off track !”

“'Wreaking havoc' ? You call going to Renaissance faires 'wreaking havoc' ?”, he snapped with a dry laugh.

“I call butchering mortals by the dozen wreaking havoc !”

She was seething with anger, but her face betrayed a complete, and utter disbelief. She thought it was him too. Vlad seemed to have regained some composure, his grip on me softening as evidence.

“Does everyone here think I am some sort of rabid animal ?”, he asked.

He was met with silence.

“I don't, but again, I don't understand what the fuck is going on”, Leah intervened.

“Well, that's one out of three”, Vlad sneered.

“Are you denying it, Drac ?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am neither an idiot, nor some kind of un-tamed blood-thirsty beast”, he snapped. “I haven't killed anyone in some time, actually, if that's of any interest to you.”

Carmilla seemed to consider Vlad's response. My hand was shaking from holding the gun so long. She threw her hands up.

“Fine. Let's say I believe you.” She stepped forward, glowering at me when I raised the gun again. “I've seen the pictures, I've been to half the scenes. No mortal was behind those murders.”

She suddenly looked worried, and Vlad softly had me lower the gun. A glance at him made me realize he had the same look, which was not reassuring.

“In truth, I wanted to believe it was you”, she admitted. “I didn't want to think about the alternative.”

“It is impossible, though”, Vlad flatly stated. “We made sure of it.”

“Alright, are you ever going to tell us what the fuck is going on ?”, Leah snapped, fists on her hips.

Carmilla turned towards her, lowly hissing.

“What is going on”, Vlad interrupted. “Is that the Elder is back.”

“The Elder ?”, I asked, not sure I really wanted a response.

“He created most of us”, Vlad explained. “I have no idea how old he is, could be millenia. He started going mad, wanting more power, and planned a human genocide.”

“He turned Vlad to be his most powerful weapon”, Carmilla continued. “The legendary Impaler, infused with the strength and unending life of immortals. As for me, I was made by one of the Elder's first creations. As I was apparently the only one figuring out that a world without humans let very little dinner opportunities, I knocked some sense into this one, and we murdered the Elder.”

“Not very well, it seems”, Vlad somberly commented. He held me a bit tighter against him.

“Well, at least, the reason why he came back now is obvious”, Carmilla stated, looking straight at me. “He found the perfect way to torture you.”

She took a pause, and looked up at him, a hint of disappointment behind her cold eyes.

“He finally found someone you love.”

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy @lost-girl-inc

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rena-rain · 5 years

Text

The Shortcut Home ch. 10

Chatper 9

For the first time in four years, Gabriel Agreste picked up the box that contained his miraculous. He didn’t open it, but closed the portrait in his office and journeyed underground. He found his wife looking exactly the same as she had since she’d fallen asleep. It was only dedicated work and a miracle that kept her alive.

Gabriel placed his palm on the glass, sighing deeply with longing. Remembering her voice was hard these days. He missed the way she’d quirk an eyebrow at him and laugh like she knew something he didn’t. He needed her to be his stubborn, stubborn anchor again.

“Our son is getting married, Emilie.” The words were soft. “He’s having a baby. I wish you could see him now.”

The way her face looked smooth as stone disconcerted him.

“I was ready to give you up. Adrien has come too close to the line of fire too many times. But now I have more reason than ever to bring you back. I swear to you, you’ll meet your grandchild.”

Gabriel gave himself another moment with Emilie. Then he straightened, opened the box, and watched Nooroo flash into existence.

“Master?”

Gabriel fastened the brooch to his shirt. “It is time that you serve me again, Nooroo.”

Adrien leapt out of bed and threw on a pair of pants.

“What are you doing?” Marinette sat up.

“I’m going downstairs to make sure Nino and Alya are okay.” He hated how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. It steeled his resolve to tell Marinette who he was. Just not now.

“Adrien,” Marinette pleaded, catching his arm and pulling him back towards her. “Stay with me, please. It’s dangerous out there.”

He looked anguished. “Mari…” Gentle fingers brushed her hair behind her ears. “I want to explain, but now’s a very, very bad time and I have to go. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Just don’t go.”

“Trust me.” Adrien regretfully let go of her face and turned to leave only to be pulled back again. He thought he’d have to keep making his case – which he did not have enough brain power to do just now – but Marinette sealed their lips together and gripped him tight. He kissed her back, trying to reassure her. They pulled away slowly, and as soon as they parted, Adrien’s eyes fluttered open. Hers were still closed, her face desperate.

“I’ll be back,” he breathed. He kissed her forehead then forced himself out of her hold.

The room suddenly felt cold with Adrien gone. Marinette opened her mouth and looked around, only to remember that Tikki wasn’t here. She hadn’t felt so helpless since Stoneheart.

The only thing she could do was stop Adrien from doing something stupid. She scrambled out of bed and yanked open the half-closed bedroom door. A bright green flash nearly blinded her in the dark room.

Marinette stared, dumbfounded, as Chat Noir leapt out an open window, his back to her.

Alya startled awake at the explosion outside. She kicked away the covers and rushed to her apartment window, where a giant pink and purple cloud of something was quickly engulfed in flame.

She turned to Tikki. “I don’t suppose that was a freak accident.”

The kwami looked worried. “That’s definitely an akuma. It looks like we made this switch not a moment too soon. We need to go!”

“Tikki, spots on!” Tikki spiraled into her earrings and a pink light flashed down her body. Alya pushed open her window, flung out the yoyo, and shot off into the night.

I hope Chat Noir’s already on the way, she thought. She sprinted across the rooftops and halted behind a chimney that was right above the site of the explosion, trying to figure out what was going on. The street looked like it had been bathed in bright, multicolored paint.

“What are we looking at?”

Alya screamed and swung a punch at the voice behind her. Chat Noir, whom she could only see because of his glowing eyes and shiny bell, flipped out of her way before her fist could make contact. “Well that wasn’t very ladylike.”

“You scared me! Make a noise or something next time, you kinda camouflage in these shadows.”

“Cat snuck up on the fox – put that one in the history books.” He leapt up onto the brick chimney and perched there. “So what’s this one’s deal? I haven’t heard any more explosions.”

“I don’t know yet. We need to take a closer look.” They leapt to the ground. The damage was much more brutal up close. Radiating scorch marks littered the street. A car was upturned, on fire, and its windows were broken. The air smelled burnt and toxic.

Most disturbing was the graffiti. An entire mural of screaming and running people were plastered to the buildings, and while it was obviously spray painted, each face looked lifelike.

“Chat Noir, I think these paintings are actual people. Civilians.”

“Looks like we’re on the same page, Ladybird. And I’m guessing somebody had a lighter or a cigarette and set all the aerosol on fire, causing the car to explode.”

“But where did they go?” Alya – Ladybird yoyoed to the top of a lamppost. Now that she knew what she was looking for, she spotted a trail of particularly garish paintjobs amongst the normal Parisian street art. She called down, “They left a trail! Let’s go!”

Whoever this akumatized sucker was, they’d been busy. Chat Noir and Ladybird passed dozens, possibly hundreds of citizens turned into murals. After several minutes, she looked over to her new partner while they ran. “Why do I feel like we’re being lured into a trap?”

Ladybird flew past him when Chat Noir stopped dead in his tracks. She skidded to a halt and backtracked to him. His eyes narrowed. “Probably because it’s a trap. I don’t know how, but I think you’re right.”

“I know it’s been a few years, but Hawk Moth’s puppet used to demand the miraculous by now.”

“And if he’s suddenly come out of hiding, he must be especially desperate for them now.” He jumped onto his baton and extended it up, up, way farther up than was reasonable for any stick to hold him. He extended his arm. “Come up here.”

Ladybird slung the yoyo around his wrist and joined him at his perch. He pointed out the crazy paint trails all over the city that she couldn’t have made out before. It looked like a maze with no solution. “Maybe not a trap. More like a wild goose chase.”

“All the better to ambush us, I bet. So that must mean they have a very high vantage point, too…” Ladybird looked up. “Oh shit. The Eiffel Tower. Drop!”

They fell back to the street and rushed to an alley as far away from any paint as they could.

“I hate it when the akumas play cat and mouse,” Chat Noir complained.

Ladybird flicked his bell. “Good thing I have the cat, then. Let’s find a way to get the mouse down from its house.”

Chat Noir snorted. “That was terrible.”

“You’re really in no place to judge.”

“We need to get to the Tower without being seen, so we should stay on the ground, and avoid as much paint as we can.” A bright pink blast of orange particles beamed from the top of the Eiffel Tower and coated an entire block. “While there are any normal streets left, that is.”

Ladybird was jealous of Chat’s costume because it let him blend in with the dark streets more easily. She felt like a siren in the bright red suit – at lease her Rena Rouge costume, while orange, was soundless and easier to sneak around in. They wound through alleyways, sprinted across boulevards when they had to, and even made a detour through a sewer. By the time they reached their destination half of Paris had been turned neon colors. God knew how many people were now paint.

They almost made it. But the Eiffel Tower, for better or worse, was a major tourist attraction night and day. As such somebody screamed “Is that Ladybug and Chat Noir?!” just before they got up the damn thing. Immediately the excited couple got smushed to the sidewalk with a fountain of blue spray paint.

Ladybird flicked her yoyo to the top. “So much for the element of surprise.”

“At least we got here, didn’t we?” Chat Noir scampered up the side of the tower on all fours, somehow keeping pace with her as she shot up. They touched down onto the railing at the top.

This victim was a young woman, her hair in a messy bun the color of a blank canvas, paint brushes stuck in it like chopsticks or pencils. Her paint-splattered overalls were glowed and had way, way, way, way too many pockets stuffed full of even more paint brushes. Her skin was covered in rainbow rings. She whirled around when Chat Noir cleared his throat, aiming the spray-paint can in her hand.

“What’s with all the evildoing, Graffiti Girl? Get kicked out of art school?”

Ladybird froze, then groaned from deep within her soul. “That one’s just in bad taste!”

“Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.”

The purple Hawk Moth mask glowed around her eyes, and she demanded, “Hand over your miraculous before the rest of Paris spends eternity as a mural!”

“I bet the akuma’s in that spray can,” Ladybird muttered.

“Summon the Lucky Charm,” Chat whispered back. “I’ll distract her.” He leapt at the akumatized woman and attempted to sweep her with his baton. She jumped over the attack, pulled out two paint brushes, and started trying to stab him.

While they fought, Ladybird looked uncertainly at the yoyo for a moment. Ladybug’s plans were always so ridiculous – how was Alya supposed to live up to the same level of mad genius?

Well, here goes nothing. She flung the yoyo over her head. “Lucky Charm!”

A pair of red and black spotted handcuffs fell into her grasp. “What the fuck?” She looked around furiously, trying to think what Ladybug would do. Graffiti Girl and Chat Noir were still engaged in some vicious hand to hand – or brush-knife to baton – combat. Ladybird suddenly realized that she kept making grabs for Chat’s right hand. The ring. Of course.

The idea was stupid, but hopefully it would work. “Chat Noir! Extend your arm!”

“What?”

“Towards me!”

He clearly thought she was crazy, but he grabbed the baton with his left hand and threw out his right. Ladybird sprinted at a central pillar, jumped onto the side, and launched herself at her partner. As expected, Graffiti Girl had snatched Chat Noir’s hand and tried to simultaneously put him in an arm lock and take off his miraculous. Ladybird slapped the woman’s wrist with one cuff, slid to the side so she twisted her body, and forced her other hand into the other cuff.

“I’ll take that.” Ladybird plucked the spray out of her grip and offered it to Chat Noir like a silver platter. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“With pleasure. Cataclysm!” She tossed him the can and he caught it, the black energy crumbling it to dust. A little black and violet butterfly fluttered up from the ashes like the worst phoenix metaphor ever.

Ladybird swiped her yoyo like she’d seen her predecessor do a hundred times and captured the akuma. It came out with its wings bright white. She watched as it disappeared among the stars.

Chat Noir held up his fist with a proud smile. “Pound it?”

Ladybird grinned gratefully back at him. “Pound it!”

“Marinette,” Master Fu said. “I wasn’t expecting company this evening.”

“I’m sorry for barging in. I’m not used to just sitting by during akuma attacks, and my apartment is empty and I miss Tikki and I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“I understand. I’m deeply troubled by the appearance of this akuma tonight.”

“So am I, Master. That’s not why I’m here though.” She stood with her arms crossed. “I accidentally saw Chat Noir transform in my living room this evening.”

Fu’s only response was to go back into the kitchen and pick up a teapot. Marinette swore she saw the corners of his lips quirk up.

She threw up her hands. “You must think this is very funny, don’t you?”

“You two have paced circles around each other for thirteen years. Would you not be just as amused in my position?”

“I can’t believe I’m having Chat Noir’s baby! Do you have any idea how many kitten jokes I’ll have to endure?”

Master Fu handed her a cup of steaming tea. “Drink this. It is good for the nerves. On a more somber note, I must ask you to tell Adrien your identity very soon, Marinette. I hate to trouble you with this theory, but it concerns him as well.”

“What’s going on?” They both sat down.

“Hawk Moth released an akuma for the first time in four years. It bothers me that it’s coincided with your maternity leave.”

Marinette sighed. “It doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me either.”

“It may be he thinks his chances are better against a new ladybug. You were wise to choose someone with experience already. Whatever the reason, it’s become more imperative than ever to retrieve the missing miraculous, and now that Hawk Moth is active again, we have our chance to find him. I went back to the old academy for the Order of the Guardians, as you know. While there I recovered a number of old texts and I’ve found a single strange record about the Butterfly, so brief I almost missed it. There was once a holder who was able to detransform then akumatize himself.”

“The butterflies stay active while Hawk Moth is his civilian self?” Marinette yelped.

“Few have attempted such a thing. One succeeded in transferring powers to herself, that I now know of.”

“So Hawk Moth could have akumatized himself at some point.”

“Exactly. I’ve spent years searching for him. Every clue I find on some level implicates the same person. But I’ve never found a smoking gun, and I’ve always dismissed him because he was once akumatized into The Collector.”

“The Collector…” Marinette whispered, sifting through her memories. She remembered each akuma persona, all right, but the whacky names and civilians behind the butterfly often got mixed up in her head. “A previous suspect…oh no.” Her eyes widened. “No, no, no, tell me it can’t be Adrien’s dad.”

Master Fu just looked at her sadly.

When Adrien got back, Marinette was asleep. He sighed in relief; he needed sleep before he had this conversation with her, and after the way he jet off tonight, he had to tell her. In the morning.

He changed into a pair of sweats and slid under the covers next to her. He noticed that she’d changed into pajamas in his absence. Adrien wrapped her in his arms, one hand against her growing belly, and closed his eyes.

Chapter 11

Ko-fi

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angellhardy · 5 years

Text

off limits // pt. 4

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, Roger being a dumb ass

AN: I’m so happy so many of you are liking this story! It’s just something that I put out for myself and to see that it actually gained a small following makes me very happy! So thank you and enjoy! I didn’t really proof read oops

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When you woke up in the morning you aimlessly stretched your arms out, searching for Roger. When you didn't feel him beside you, your eyes shot open.

He wasn't there. Panic arose inside you, that he left you. Maybe he regretted it. You searched around the room for his stuff but instead found a little piece of paper, sitting neatly on your bedside table.

Taking it in your hands you recognize it has Rogers handwriting on it

Good morning love! Don't worry i didn't leave you alone like a one night stand! Brian called and wanted me in the studio and I didn't want to wake you so i wrote you this note. Can't wait to see you again. I enjoyed last night a lot, princess. - Roger

Instantly you let out a breath, you didn't know you were holding, your body relaxing again. Your eyes scanned over the note again and again, smiling at the thought of him writing it.

You stood up and made yourself a coffee, before heading into the shower. The memories from last night were still prominent in your mind and you found yourself smiling at them. When you left the shower, you wrapped a towel around yourself and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widened in shock. Your neck was covered in dark purple bruises. Not just your neck. It was all the way down to your breasts. „How am I supposed to cover these up?“ you muttered to yourself, while your fingers lightly traced them. Not wanting to think about that right now, you went to the kitchen to make some breakfast, when you heard the phone ring. Picking it up you instantly heard Brians happy voice. „(y/n)! You're finally awake! I started to worry, you never sleep this late.“ Brian said into the speaker. „Oh i just had a bad dream and couldn't sleep for a while, so I've slept a bit longer.“ you lied to him. „I hope it wasn't to bad.“ his voice was softer now, clearly filled with worry. „No Bri, it's alright. Why are you calling?“ you asked him, wanting to change the subject. „I want you to come to the studio. I need to tell you something.“ he told you, butterflies erupting in your stomach just thinking about how you will see Roger again. „Em okay, I'll be there in 30 minutes, okay?“ you said, walking in your bedroom to search some clothes. „Perfect! See you soon!“ he chirped before hanging up. You searched for anything that would cover your neck, but non of your shirts or jumper could make them disappear. So you went with a tight sweater and a scarf around your neck. You went into the bathroom to dry your hair and do your makeup. You covered some of the hickeys, that could be visible in case the scarf moved, just to be sure the guys wouldn't see it. When you were pleased with the outcome, you grabbed your car keys and made your way over to the studio, a smile always plastered on your face.

You arrived at the building and went to the room, the guys were in last time and could already hear John playing his bass and some talking. You entered the room and all eyes turned to you. „(y/n) you're finally here!“ Brian said before coming over to you and giving you a tight hug. You greeted everyone else with a little hug and when it was Rogers turn, he just had to make a comment. „Nice scarf.“ he smirked. He just couldn't keep it to himself. „Yeah (y/n) whats up with the scarf? It's not that could outside.“ Deaky said with a light frown. „Oh I just think I'm getting a cold...“ you said, hoping that they would believe you. „So what did you want to tell me?“ you quickly ask in Brians direction, as you sat down on the couch, next to Freddie.

„Well I have good news and bad news! What you wanna hear first?“ he asked you with a grin. „Good.“ you told him, smiling at him. „We will be performing at top of the pops!“ he told you and a bright smile formed on every members face. „That's amazing, guys! I'm so happy for you!“ You really meant it. But when you found Rogers face, he didn't look as excited as the others and you frowned at him. „What's the bad news?“ you ask them and this time Freddie answers you. „The show is saturday. The band that was supposed to play had to cancel so we are taking their place. But that means we leave tonight.“ he told you with a unsure face. „But you weren't supposed to leave for another 3 days!“ you said in disbelieve, looking at Rogers direction, but he was looking at the ground. „Yeah we know, but this is really big for us and could really help the band.“ Brian said with a sympathetic look, hoping you would understand. „Yeah I get it, I really do.“ you told them shooting them a small smile.

„I wanted to tell you yesterday but you were at work and then you met with your mum and I didn't want to ruin your time with your family.“ Brian said, his eyes always fixated on you. Puzzled, you frown your brows together. „You guys already knew yesterday?“ you asked. „Yeah we got a call from Miami in the morning.“ Freddie said beside you. So Roger knew and didn't tell you. „I'm really happy for you guys. This is a big opportunity and I don't want to be in the way of it.“ you said with a forced smile in Brians direction. „You're the best.“ he answered and you just hummed as response to that. You felt Rogers gaze on you but didn't want to look at him.

„Why don't we eat diner together tonight? Like as a goodbye?“ Deaky asked in the round and you all nodded. After that they started playing their music again. Freddie went into the recording booth to sing his vocals, as Roger sat down beside you. He turned to you and opened his mouth to say something but you quickly cut him off. „Not right now Roger.“ you said, eyes not leaving Freddie. He didn't say another word to you for the rest of the recording session. When the guys were finished, you agreed where to meet up in the evening. Brian would come back to your place with you, to use the last few hours together.

On the way out, Roger pulled you by your arm so you two walked with some distance behind the others. „Why didn't you tell me?“ you just muttered quietly. „I would've told you but I didn't want to ruin the mood for last night.“ You looked at him and you knew he was serious. And you understood why he did it. You really did. „Can I come to your place to talk after dinner?“ he asked you in a whisper. You nodded with your head as you watched the other boys carefully so they wouldn't notice it. Just a few seconds later Brian turned around and saw you two walking together behind them. „Roger, could you please stop hitting on (y/n).“ he said clearly annoyed with him. „I'll stop when she stops being this pretty!“ he replied with a smirk growing on his lips and a blush forming on your cheeks. Brian glared at Roger as he put his hands up in defense. He winked at you one last time, before your ways separated and he went to Johns car while you walked to your own.

Brian followed you to your house and parked his car right behind you. You smiled at him as you went into your apartment. „I'm really sorry that we're not staying as long as planned.“ he said again, sadness in his eyes. „Oh don't be stupid Bri. This is such a big chance for you and the guys! I'm really proud of you.“ you assured him as you took his hand in yours. „You know I kinda feel stupid saying this, but I'm also a bit glad that we're leaving early. I had the feeling there was something forming between you and Roger and I was afraid he would make a move on you this trip.“ he said, voice low and looking to the ground as if he was ashamed to say it. You felt the weight of guilt on your shoulders and you wanted to tell him then and there but you restrained yourself. You should talk with Roger first, before you tell Brian about it. „No need, Bri. There is nothing going on between us. You’ll always be my favorite Queen member.“ You couldn't look him into the eyes as you lied to him, your gaze shifted to the ground. Brian took you in his arms, his chin on your head as he spoke „I know (y/n). I'm just paranoid. I just think it wouldn't end well and I can't see you hurt. You just mean to much to me.“ he whispered and you could feel tears starting to form, but quickly tried to blink them away. Wrapping your arms around him, you just hugged him tighter. „ But enough about Roger! Do you want a tea?“ he asked, once he separated himself from you. „That would be lovely.“ you told him as he already had 2 mugs in his hands.

You went to your closet to search for something else to wear, something more fancy but non of it covered your neck, so you just went with the outfit you already had on and intensified your makeup a bit.

Brian and you were the first to arrive at the restaurant and sat down at the table, already ordering your drinks. Then came John and Roger. And 10 minutes late came Freddie with Mary. You and Mary sat across from each other and talked the whole time, getting to know each other. She was really friendly and funny and told you a lot about her dad and about her job and how she and Freddie met. It was really nice listening to her. You actually made plans to see each other while the boys were away and exchanged numbers. „Hey this is a dinner because we're going back to america and you two don't even talk to us!“ John said with a playful pout on his lips. „Jealous Deaky?“ you smirked at him, seeing in the corner of eyes Roger tense up a bit.

It was a really beautiful evening and you just didn't want it to end. But it was getting late and the boys still had to pack, so the evening came to an end sooner than you hoped. The group walked out to the cars together and there it was time to say goodbye. You hugged everyone goodbye, even Roger, who whispered in your ear, that he'll be at your place in 30 minutes. You and Brian took the longest time to say goodbye. „I'll miss you little sister.“ he said, hugging you tight and running his hands through your hair. „I'll miss you two big brother. This time you could try not waiting 13 weeks to call me.“ you teased him but he knew you were actually serious. You waved at him as you walked to your car. “Have a safe flight!” you yelled at them one last time. And with that you all got into your cars and drove away. It felt strange. Knowing that you wouldn’t see them again for quite some time. Your only silver lining right now was knowing that Roger would come to your place later although you were a bit nervous about it.

Roger knocked on your door a few minutes after you arrived and you happily smiled at him, when you opened the door. Only that he didn't look too happy. „Everything alright?“ you ask him, as he walked into your flat and stood in the living room with you. „I think we need to talk.“ he said, rubbing his neck. You knew right there, that this would be bad. „About what?“ you ask, already feeling where this is going.

„About us.“ he replied, not looking in your direction. „What about us?“ you question your eyebrows shooting up.

You could see him taking a deep breath. He was trying to find the right words to say but knew it would end bad no matter what he said.

„Look I really like you, I truly do... but I don't think right now is the right time for us.“ he started and you could actually feel a stabbing pain in your heart. „Last night was perfect and I meant everything I said to you but we are leaving tonight and tour doesn't end for another 3 months and we'll maybe stay even longer to record our new album over there and I don't think it's the right time to start a relationship right now.“ he said, finally looking at you with sorrow in his eyes. You were sad too, but most of all you were angry. „Get out.“ you muttered. „Princess, I..“ he started, but you wouldn't let him finish. „Don't fucking call me that! I said get out!“ you spat at him but he didn't move. „Can we please talk about this?“ he asked you, trying to stay calm. „No we cannot talk about this, because I never want to talk to you again! You said that this could be something! And that you actually missed me! Was this just a game to you? To see if I would actually sleep with you? You told me you felt more than just lust for me! And I actually believed you.“ you said shaking your head at your own stupidity. „I meant it! I never lied to you.“ he defended himself. „Oh cut the bullshit Taylor. The whole day you act like everything is fine and now you come here to tell me your crap. You told me you wanted this! And after you could finally fuck me you suddenly don't think this is such a good idea anymore. What a fucking coincidence. But at least you can add another girl to your little list.“ you said laughing to yourself.

You couldn't believe it. You were so stupid. „(y/n) I just don't want this to start with me being away the first few months of our relationship.“ he tried to explain to you but you just shook your head. „Then you shouldn't have started it last night. Now leave my fucking apartment!“ you said, louder this time. He flinched at your outburst, but you didn't care. He started walking towards the door, when he said „I'm really sorry (y/n).“ and turned to look at you again. „Go to hell, Roger Taylor.“ you said, your expression filled with anger and hate. With a heavy sigh he left you alone in your apartment and you finally let the tears, that you were holding in, fall. How could you be so stupid. Brian told you this would happen and you actually thought he was wrong. You believed Roger.

Maybe it was just too good to be true, you thought to yourself. You sat down on your couch, hiding your face in your hands, feeling how they got wet from your tears. You didn't think it could get any worse but unbeknown to you something even bigger started last night.

Taglist: @16wiishes @runningoutofwordstosay @discodeakyy@magicwithaknife @hoeghfabulous @shadowmaiden1618 @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @moveimbi @spooky-af-queen @wint-er-voices

#feedback is always appreciated #also #if you have suggestions for the plot of the next few chapters you can always message them to me!!#im really curious what ideas you have for the story #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap imagine

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