#this is honestly just my little explanation (excuse) as to why i still draw childe as if he has a soul | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

This post is a combination of the 90s PatB alongside the reboot’s Ep 13. Spoilers below.

So...I was certainly not expecting a flashback in this ep. Great usage of the ‘everyone asks how, but no one ever asks why’ question by Pinky.

No matter the adaptation, Brain is always presented as a mouse with a pathological need for control because he sorely lacked it as a young mouse. When he loses that control, whether in this episode with being locked in a car and taken on a road trip against his will, or in other episodes with different situations, he’ll lose control of himself, the very thing he’s trying to avoid.

Anyways, the flashback presented in this episode can reasonably fit with the origin episodes in the 90s PatB, so I’m gonna try and present these in an order that can fit together, so let’s start off with Leggo My Ego, shall we?

Anyway, Brain starts life as an innocent field mouse. Ain’t he the cutest little thing you’d ever see?

Um...hey guys, maybe we could let the cute mouse baby blow a feather around and be happy?

Nope...oof. Time to begin a life of trauma.

He’s a babey.... He needs hugs! How do you people not have sympathy for him??????

So basically, the 90s cartoon presents several origins and some of them are more contradictory than others. I believe Leggo My Ego and The Visit are the only episodes that mention Brain was originally a wild mouse captured by humans, but it’s generally the most widely accepted origin for him.

In Leggo My Ego, Freud notes that Brain’s desire for world domination appears to be a subconscious desire to return to the simple life he once led.

So..let’s bring in Snowball now.

In this post, I’m trying to be chronological here. In this flashback, Brain describes how he and Snowball were once very close and how he could always make Snowball laugh.

Brain and Snowball grew up together, and Brain genuinely cared about Snowball, even into adulthood when the two became enemies.

They went through the gene splicer together after an experiment gone wrong. The gene splicer exploded and supposedly messed with Snowball’s mind.

Snowball did something that caused him to get kicked out of ACME Lab. The rift became permanent, though what was the exact cause or if clashing ambitions fueled it is unknown.

This event left a permanent mark on Brain, and Pinky himself had never heard about Snowball until he tried to steal one of Brain’s schemes.

But anyway, the exact timeline of the splicing and the break in friendship is unknown. So...I think this flashback in the reboot’s Ep 13: Roadent Trip might fill one of the blanks in on an event that might’ve occurred during Brain’s time with Snowball, before he met Pinky.

Alright, so for this post’s sake, I’m going to present the new flashback as if it took place shortly after Brain’s splicing with Snowball. I’m also going to disregard the 90s PatB episode Project BRAIN, because there’s stronger canon evidence that Brain was born in the wild and that he grew up with Snowball. However, I do enjoy keeping that Brain named Pinky.

Anyways, that’s enough for the introduction. Grab your tissues if you haven’t already.

Pinky: “You’re always trying to work out how to take over the world, but you’ve never told me why you want to take over the world, Brain.”

*moment of silence*

Pinky: “Brain?”

Brain: “If I answer this, you’ll let me expire in peace?”

Honestly, a GIF would do Brain’s reaction justice, because he doesn’t outright dismiss Pinky’s question. He’s more hesitant because he realizes this moment is going to lead to a heart to heart talk, something he’d rather not engage in. And you know what? I can’t recall any instance of Brain admitting to Pinky about why he wanted to take over the world, just how or that he was going to do it with this particular plan.

I think this correlates well with Leggo My Ego above; that Brain doesn’t reflect on the ultimate driving force behind his actions, just that he wants it and he’s going to somehow get it. If he does have a moment of clarity, he always dismisses it and goes right back to the drawing board.

And most importantly, that he just wants love and respect. Does he create his own misery? Yes. But at the same time, he’s sadly a product of the combination of human curiosity and ignorance.

So...I deeply apologize for this tangent real quick before I move onto the rest of this post.

*takes deep breath*

LOOK AT THIS BABY HE’S SUCH A CUTIE I WANNA HUG HIM SO BAD HE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS CRAP YOU WILL LOOK AT HIM AND YOU WILL LOVE HIM

Okay, so like I said before, due to his head shape and how he seems to display early cognitive abilities here, I honestly think the best timeframe for this would be sometime in the 90s, just after his and Snowball’s splicing. Again, Brain was ultimately a child in Snowball, but since he’s the one narrating, we’re led to assume he set his sights on the world right away.

Actually, it seems more likely that while Brain’s capacity for knowledge was enhanced, he still had to make the effort to learn. What he knows as an adult didn’t come all at once. So here, he has cognition, but he’s still fairly optimistic because the weight of the world truly hasn’t set in yet.

Alright, so my explanation is that Snowball was elsewhere in the lab, and that they’re simply separated for the day. Brain was lifted out of an experiment with other mice, and placed directly into a solo study.

The scientists place a huge slice of cheese on a stun plate, with the intention that Brain will be shocked if he tries to go for the cheese. Of course, who would be able to resist having this much food placed in front of them? I certainly wouldn’t.

But the moment he tries to go for the cheese, he gets shocked. But since he’s very much learning, he doesn’t understand why he gets shocked if he steps on the plate.

It’s this pose that makes me believe he’s spliced at this point. Brain adopts that thinking pose well into adulthood. However, he doesn’t really have a plan. He just thinks he’ll succeed if he goes for it enough times, much like the world.

Also, compare his tail shape between this photo and the one above it. Rather fitting for it to be a lightning bolt, is it not? Mice tails do get kinked in real life if handled improperly, which is very much the case here too.

Scientist 1: “The idea is that once we remove the electronic stimulus, he still won’t go for the cheese.”

Scientist 2: “Learned helplessness.”

And sadly...their hypothesis is proven correct.

And the thing is, Brain does recognize that the shock is turned off. He does learn that he shouldn’t touch the plate. So he tries once more...

And stops.

Even with the cheese’s proximity, it’s still unattainable. The only thing that holds Brain back is himself. He wants the cheese, but he’ll get hurt if he tries to go for it. So...despite there being no obvious danger, Brain doesn’t go for it again.

Learned Helplessness Wikipedia Page Link

This could potentially be the moment where Brain finally loses his innocence. He has to control everything because the moment he doesn’t...he’ll get shocked.

Notice how everything Brain’s ever wanted at any stage is always in close proximity to himself? In Leggo My Ego, he was extremely close to his parents and the tin can upon capture. In Snowball, he clearly desired companionship, but he and Snowball were never in the same cage. In this flashback, the cheese is ripe for the taking with the shock turned off, and he doesn’t try again.

Brain is able to learn. And he learns that the world is cruel, that he’s only an interesting specimen for science with no autonomy of his own. He learns that he has to be in control to stop hurting so much.

“From that day hence, I vowed I would be the one in control. Of myself, of my surroundings, of the world. Yet again, here I am, totally helpless.”

Okay, I swear this wasn’t intentional and I didn’t notice this until I made this post, but look at how similar the final pose in the flashback and Brain’s pose in this shot are.

That in some ways, Brain is still that child with simple desires. Maybe he phrases them differently, but that’s what it ultimately boils down to.

And from Brain’s emotionally charged delivery of the above line, this experience was so traumatic that he kept it hidden for two decades.

And while the cheese is supposed to represent how he can’t obtain the world despite living in it, I think there’s another thing that went unstated. It also happens to represent:

Pinky is the cheese. Brain won’t step on a stun plate if he tries to touch Pinky. Rather, Pinky will welcome any affectionate gesture with open arms.

But Brain believes he’ll be hurt if he tries. The humans set the precedent. Desire affection, desire love, you’ll get hurt, they taught him.

The only thing holding Brain back is himself.

And it’s absolutely tragic.

Be like Pinky. Give Brain a hug.

If you’ll excuse me, Imma go cry.

#pinky and the brain #animaniacs spoilers #patb spoilers #long post #animaniacs reboot #also i'm sorry i fooled you into believing this post would actually have good analysis #that's how all these start out and it quickly devolves me into crying over cute mouse babies

176 notes · View notes

ordinaryschmuck · 4 years

Text

What I thought about “Agony of a Witch” from The Owl House

...Well crap. I guess I am reviewing every episode of The Owl House from now on...ARE YOU HAPPY WRITERS?! ARE YOU PROUD OF YOURSELVES?! ARE YOU SATISFIED?!

...

Anyways, salutations random people on the internet who probably won't read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And today, I'm reviewing the penultimate episode of The Owl House’s first season: "Agony of a Witch." It goes without saying at this point, but there are going to be HUGE spoilers for both not only the episode but the entire series as a whole. So if you haven't checked out The Owl House yet, I highly recommend you do so. It's an incredible show, and the next episode is the season finale. So now's your last chance to get all caught up. With that done and over with, let's get started, shall we?

WHAT I LIKE

That opening scene: These first few minutes perfectly sets the tone for the episode. The best example of how the tone is set is with the music. Or rather, lack thereof. The establishing shots of Belos' castle could have had grand and imposing music that gives "The Imperial March" a run for its money. But honestly, the pure silence says so much more about how serious this scene than any background motif could. Because while music does an excellent job of telling us how we should feel, no music means that the right feelings are already met. And in this case, the feelings are dread and terror.

But another thing that perfectly sets the tone is the fact that there aren't any jokes in this scene. If you had to ask me, I'd say that The Owl House is a comedy series with drama and story on the side. This is because the opening scene of every episode begins with trying to make the audience laugh with one or two jokes. That is every episode except for this one. Because "Agony of a Witch" does not open with any jokes leaving the audience with laughter. It begins with an ominous threat and leaving the audience in fear. All of which perfectly sets up how gutwrenching this episode is going to be.

Hooty’s an actual security system: But luckily, it doesn't take too long for the laughs to come right on back.

When it was implied that Hooty was the security system that Eda had set for her house, I never understood how or why. But now I do! Because it turns out that Hooty acts as a force of chaos that just annoys his enemies into submission. And I'm gonna level with you for a second: This scene helps make Hooty a fantastic character. For the most part, I find Hooty an annoying character. And it's partially due to his voice...mostly due to his voice...it's because of his voice. But, I'm sorry, a character wins points for me by accidentally beating an army without even knowing they're fighting.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

“It’s because he’s got the hots for you, isn’t it?”: I like the fact that I pointed this out as a joke in my last review, only for this episode to not only address it but almost immediately dismiss it.

Plus, Eda winking with finger guns is always a win. Again, I don't make the rules.

Eda joking about the curse being a fate worse than death: Some people might make the audacious claim that joking about a fate worse than death soils the mood. And I would agree with that if this was actually a joke. Instead, it feels more like Eda is brushing off the tension by trying to laugh at it. That is something that many people-myself included-do to make people we care about feel better. To me, it feels pretty clear that Eda laughs about her situation so that Luz doesn't worry about her mentor. This shows how much Luz means to Eda, and we see something similar/more impactful near the end that cements that fact. For now, this "joke" is actually a great character moment when you take a second to analyze it.

Luz’s plan to steal the Healing Hat: Staying on track of development, let's talk about how much this scene reflects growth with Luz and Eda's relationship. Luz's willingness to steal from the emperor, and break who knows how many laws in the process, shows how much Luz cares about Eda. It's sweet to think about, even though it comes by Luz making the dumbest decision in her life. And while Luz's plan would ordinarily be a dislike, what turns things around is the fact that there are immediate consequences to Luz's actions. Eda's curse being permanent? Eda getting captured? Luz nearly dying?! All of this would have been avoided if Luz just stuck with the group instead of working on impulse. And there's not a doubt in my mind that's what she was thinking during her long trek home (more on that later). So, yeah. While Luz's plan was misguided, it still has the sweetest of intentions while also showing kids that bad stuff happens when you don't think things through.

Amity staying at home: Narratively speaking, this was a great decision. Amity acts as the voice of reason to Luz's antics. So if she went on the trip too, then she would have talked Luz out of the heist. And the writers found a brilliant workaround by having Amity break her leg in the last episode, to work as an excuse for why she isn't in this one. In fact, let's add more points to "Wing it Like Witches" for planning ahead. That alone makes it more clear about how that episode isn't filler.

Eda knits the cape for Luz: While Luz stealing the Healing Hat shows how much Eda means to her, Eda knitting the cape shows the feelings are very much mutual. It's made pretty evident in the beginning that Eda's planning to use the magic silk to protect herself. So having her instantly make the cape for Luz without a second thought is just the sweetest thing. And you know what? Who's to say that Eda wasn't planning to make the cape anyway? And Eda saying that the silk was for her was just a diversion to throw Luz off? Because if that's the case, then boy does that ending break my heart even more.

(Also, this acts as a fantastic setup for why Luz has a cape that makes her invulnerable to the Emperor's magic in the next episode. At least, I think that's the case going off of what Eda says in the beginning.)

The picture of Luz: Ok, am I the only one who would absolutely love an explanation for this picture? Yeah, it's obvious that Luz got into an eating contest to the death, but how did she even get stuck in this contest? Why was she even in this contest? And why was Eda so proud of this moment that she decided to frame it?

Screw the fanfictions of angst and/or Lumity fluff. Someone write a fanfic about THAT!

The tour of the castle: I talked about in my "Wing it Like Witches" review that I like how the show uses teaching the students as a way to give lore to the audience. And that's what Kikimora's tour does. It uses the student's willingness to learn as a way for the fans to learn more about the lore of the show. However, while these bits of background information is nice and all, there's one question I want to bring up:

How honest is this little history lesson about Emperor Belos? Because do you know who’s the one that can make sure history remembers Belos as a kind and just ruler who united the Boiling Isles? My guess is it's the same person who appointed himself as emperor.

Just a little thing to think about, if you ask me.

The Room of Relics: Gonna tell ya the truth: Seeing all of those relics made the inner child in me go, "Oooh. Shiney."

I'm not kidding when I say that I would love to learn more about each of those relics we see in this episode. I want to learn more about each relic's origins, which track they belong to, and what the hell they even do. And it's not often that I feel this way. Hell, I'm mostly the guy who never gives a crap about lore. But you better believe that if Dana Terrace ever writes a book explaining all of these relics, that I'll be the first to buy it.

Emperor Belos: ...Eep…

I'm not kidding when I say that "Eep" is the best way for me to describe Emperor Belos. The reason that makes Belos feel like a terrifying and opposing character is the same way Darth Vader and Thanos are terrifying and opposing. He's a character that feels like a force of nature that is so powerful, he could probably kill you just by blinking. And it's no wonder why Lilith was so terrified to fail him in the last episode. I'd be terrified just to look at the man without his permission! And that was before it was implied that he sacrifices witches who are covenless!

But, Belos frightening the crap out of me isn't the only reason why he's an excellent villain. What makes him great is that in his debut scene, we learn so much about him...and yet have so many more questions. Like, how can he talk to the titan? What's up with the giant beating heart on top of his throne? Why is he sacrificing witches and discarded palisman to give him power? What the f**k is up with the giant beating heart on top of his throne? Why are there pipes littered throughout his castle? AND WHAT! THE F**K! IS UP! WITH THE GIANT! BEATING! HEART! ON! TOP! OF! HIS! THRONE?!?!

Questions like these help make Belos more interesting of a character that I would love to learn more about. Even though seeing him makes me physically shrink in my chair.

Gus being told that he’s already his best self: I mean, this is just sweet. My man Gus needs more love, dang it!

Eda vs. Lilith: It's like the animators saw the first fight between Eda and Lilith and asked, "How can we make this more awesome?" Turns out, the answer is to make the fight more like an anime than the first one. And MAN, was it successful! However, being epic is not the main reason why it's a captivating fight scene. Because as excellent as it was to see Eda and Lilith fight for the first time, their battle lacked one crucial element that’s in their second fight: Tension. Eda's curse getting worse with each spell and Luz being in constant danger adds so much more tension to this fight. And as a result, it becomes more entertaining to watch Eda fight knowing the odds are highly stacked against her. Because even though Eda was destined to lose, you still hope for the best that she'll somehow win. Which makes her ultimate defeat all the more heartbreaking.

LILITH CURSED EDA?!: What?! WHAT?!

I mean, I expected Eda to lose and get captured. That was something I saw a mile away since watching the promo a few months ago. But revealing that Lilith is the one who cursed Eda?! I could have never predicted that! It was such a shocking revelation that I cannot wait to see how the show handles this going forward. Because, the way I see it, Eda is cutting ties with Lilith after this episode. Even if Lilith has some sort of logical explanation, none of it will matter to Eda. Hell, it already doesn't matter to the fans, who are already jumping on the "Kick Lilith's teeth in" train. As for me, I'm going to wait for the actual explanation before I make any judgments. It is made pretty clear that Lilith regrets what she's done in not only in this episode but through small interactions with Eda in the past. It might not justify her actions, but I am still willing to hear the full story before I come to the conclusion that Lilith must burn in hell. Unless her reasoning was petty revenge or jealousy. In which case, I would like to introduce Lilith to my good friend Frederick Ulisinsburg.

*Lifts up middle finger*

You can call him F.U. for short.

Eda’s goodbye to Luz: Everything about this moment is gutwrenching perfection. I want to start off by talking about the fact that Eda smiles as she's saying goodbye. Earlier I touched upon that Eda joked about having a fate worse than death was an attempt to relieve tension off of Luz. And it's the same thing here. Eda smiling is the only way she can convey to Luz that everything's going to be ok so that her protege won't be upset about their situation. There are just two things that betray Eda during this sentiment. The first is her voice. You can tell that Eda is trying her best to stay emotionally stable for Luz, but it's clear how she's really feeling through each crack in her voice. And credit goes to Wendie Malick for giving such a marvelous performance in this scene. The second thing that betrays Eda is her eyes. Every ounce of pain and sadness that Eda is feeling at this moment can be seen through her eyes. Don't believe me? Then watch this scene again, cover Eda's mouth, and focus on the eyes. You'll see what I'll mean.

And her last word to Luz being "Thank you for being in my life." That cuts deep man...IT CUTS DEEP...GAH!

Luz walks home: It's the moments that you don't experience that can have the most weight to them. We, as the audience, have no idea what happened with Luz as she walked all the way back to the Owl House. But the things we can imagine are much worse. The guilt Luz must be feeling during this walk, as every awful thing that she experienced replays in her mind, like a broken record. The idea of Luz going through something like that just...It just breaks the heart.

“Where’s Eda?”: It's the innocent way that King asks this question is what makes it sad. It shows the childlike naivety in King's character, and imagining what his reaction would be to the truth, makes it even more tear jerking.

Luz cries: Nope. Nope! NOPE!

I will accept a lot of things from this episode. Eda getting captured? Sure. Luz having a literal guilt trip? Why not? King getting to learn the hard way about what happened to Eda? Go for it! But you know what I won't accept? LUZ F**KING CRYING! I'm being one-hundred percent serious when I say that it physically hurts to look at that one single image. Even just thinking about it is enough to make me misty-eyed. And I HATE IT! I mean, I love it because the show successfully made me feel the exact emotions that I should feel. BUT I HATE IT!

WHAT I DISLIKED

I honestly wish I could say that there is nothing that I dislike about this episode. I really do. But there is one small thing that-very briefly-took enjoyment out of the episode. And that’s-

The Kids easily sneaking past the guards: Don't get me wrong, the funny antics that our trio pull off are very entertaining. But it shines a bad light on the Emperor's coven, when the best of the best witches get outsmarted by three children. Plus, this is the penultimate episode of the season. I'm not sure goofy hijinks are the way you want to go. Because while The Owl House is a comedy series, even the funniest of comedies know when to make jokes and when to be serious.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But despite that one complaint, I still give this episode an A+. It was emotionally draining, and it makes both more excited and incredibly terrified for the season finale. Because we now know the stakes for the next episode. The question is, how will Luz survive.

Now, I'm sure there are people out there who probably hate this episode, and probably the whole series if you want to get into it. And to those people: I feel bad for you. And I'm not saying that as a joke or as a snarky remark. I legitimately feel bad for you. Because I felt a whole range of emotions not just with one episode, not just with one scene, but with one single frame of animation. That image of Luz crying was more effective in getting a reaction out of me than anything else that came out this year. And the idea that some of you won't feel the same way fills me with even more Agony.

#the owl house #the owl house review #what i thought about

29 notes · View notes

therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

☁ Drifting Away (Giotto) #02

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Previous

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

☁ Primo ✗ Curiosity ✗ Confusion ☁

“Boss – !” One of his men called, rushing into the office to make sure his precious boss had been left unharmed. “Should we go after them?”

The blonde shook his head, standing up from the leather chair. “No. I’ll handle it myself.”

“But – “

Before the man could protest, the blonde swept out of the office with the intent of looking for you. His cloak billowed behind him as he exited the building. The fact that you knew who he was, knew about the Vongola Famiglia… weren’t you just a teenager who had gotten lost? Why did your eyes widen in disbelief when you realized who he was? And why did you feel the need to run? Giotto surely had no intention of hurting you.

He wanted to know who you were and exactly what you knew. He had to find you.

Italy was a large place, but he doubted you could get too far on foot. Giotto didn’t know what it was, but his instinct was telling him that he had to find you. He was sure his men wouldn’t be too gentle if they were to search for you, as they proved in his office, and there was no point in involving his guardians when he could handle something so small by himself.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You gasped for breath, leaning on a nearby stone wall for support; you were never very good with running. You were far too lazy for it despite being someone who had been trained so harshly under Reborn. If he could see you now, he’d probably shake his head, kick you in the rear and walk off.

‘What the hell is happening? It could have been Lambo’s 10-Year Bazooka, he’s always messing around with that thing, but…’ Doubt washed over you. The Bovino Family’s 10-Year-Bazooka switches whoever is hit with their self ten years in the future but you were clearly in the past. “Damn Lambo. Damn Giannini.” you huffed, glaring at the ground, “I’ll kill both of ’em.”

You had no proof that Giannini had upgraded the Bazooka and, in turn, screwed it up again – who could forget what happened to Gokudera?. And sure, you had no proof that Lambo had actually hit you with the thing, effectively sending you back in time – you didn’t remember being hit with it but it may have happened while you were asleep, but… what other explanation was there?

When Shouichi Irie brought Tsuna and the others to the future, the Bazooka was originally used to get them there. ‘Course, he used that damned machine of his after that, but the Bazooka was the original object used to get them there. Had someone gotten ahold of the device? No, that simply wasn’t possible. The Shouichi of your era was still just a kid and the future incident had been solved long ago, thanks to Yuni and Tsuna. She had given her life to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

You were all alone.

No Tsuna. No Reborn. No Gokudera. No Yamamoto. No one.

Something suddenly dawned on you. The unfamiliar sights, the language you couldn’t understand… Giotto was Italian and his family lived in Italy… If he was here, then that meant…

“I’m in Italy!?” you exclaimed, bashing your head against the brick wall you had previously been leaning on. You fell backward onto the stone-cold pavement with a groan, your hand flying to your aching head. You closed your eyes to try and reduce the pain, “At least I know this isn’t a dream…”

Dreams didn’t physically hurt, right?

“It’s finally happened!” you exclaimed to the darkening sky. The sun had already halfway set, turning the sky a soft orange with strokes of purple. “Being around all these Italian Mafioso every day has finally destroyed what little sanity I had left! I’ve gone nuts!”

A chuckle reached your ears. “I believe it, the way you’re talkin’ to yourself!” you blinked up at the man that now stood over you, his feet at your head. “You alright, kid?” he held his hand out for you to take, and you hesitated before allowing him to pull you back up onto your feet. Whether it was the headache or the sudden rush of being pulled to your feet that made you stagger, you couldn’t be sure. It was probably a mix of both.

The man standing before you oddly resembled Iemitsu Sawada, Tsuna’s dad, with his blonde hair and friendly smile, welcoming attitude, and strong build, but.. wasn’t the Primo Tsuna’s great great great grandfather? The only difference was that this man didn’t have a beard and his eyes were a deep forest green with specks of brown. They also held a childish glint.

He held his hand out, a large smile on his face. “Italo Sawako.”

Well, the name was sort of the same. A distance cousin of Giotto’s, maybe?

“Er…” your hand was engulfed by his large, calloused hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, do you have a place to stay?”

“Not… really…”

“You can stay with me, then!” he grinned, grabbing your wrist and tugging you along. “By the way, how old are you, kid?”

“Eighteen,” you responded after muttering a ‘not really born yet’ under your breath.

“What’s an eighteen-year-old doing out here, alone, at night, with no place to stay?” he wondered.

You stared at the man’s suit covered back as your mind began to drift off. This was all just too weird, nothing made any sense to you. You had seen a lot of crazy-ass shit since you had met Reborn, but this definitely takes the cake. This was just downright ridiculous!

Italo glanced over his shoulder as you finally entered a large building where you assumed is where he lived. You were so out of it that you didn’t realize where the man had taken you until it was too late.

“There they are!”

“Ahh, shit,” you muttered, seeing the familiar black-clad men from earlier.

That’s when it finally clicked in your head. This man was obviously a member of the Vongola, especially if he somehow had ties to Iemitsu or Giotto. Damn it, your perfected ‘not-paying-attention-to-your-surroundings’ skill has screwed you over once again.

And so, you found yourself back in the Primo’s office, sitting on the leather couch situated in front of his desk. Italo was standing by the arm of the couch, on your left. His men were positioned outside the door, just in case you tried to run again.

“Tell me who you are.” It was a demand that left Giotto’s lips, but his tone was so soft and kind it almost didn’t sound like one.

“Errr…” What were you supposed to say? “I’m… affiliated with the Mafia.” Oh, that could work.

“Which family?”

“Vongola,” ‘Shit!’ you bit your lip, slamming your head against a mental wall. It had been an automatic response due to your pride and love of the family. It came out before you could stop it.

His eyes shifted to your bottom lip, which you were currently chewing on, before returning to your eyes. You refused to meet his piercing gaze.

“Really? I’ve never seen you around before, kid!” Italo grinned, looking down at you and setting his large hand on your shoulder, “You’re not Italian, either.”

“No. I’m half American, half Japanese,” you muttered under your breath, staring off to the side where a bookcase sat, taking up a little more than half of the wall.

Despite how low your voice had been, the Primo still managed to catch the words you uttered. “Italo,” he called, gaining the attention of the other blonde. His eyes never left your form as he spoke, “Can you excuse us?”

“Ah, sure thing, boss!” Italo grinned wider, patting your shoulder before leaving the room. Silence followed his departure and you found yourself reading the spines of the books to take your mind off of the crazy situation. You also made a mental note to kill Reborn if you ever managed to make it back home. You squirmed uncomfortably under his piercing gaze. It was like he could see right through you, like he was reading a book.

You honestly hated that look. It felt as if he could even read your thoughts and that annoyed you to no end. Giotto took in every breath you took and every move that you made – he was searching for something. If he did manage to figure out what was going through your head, you had no clue what fate would await you.

‘I am truly screwed,’

“You seem anxious,” he observed, “You said you were affiliated with the Mafia. In what way?”

You went to respond, prepared to use your ‘quick-lie’ talent, but he cut you off, his expression softening.

“You do not have to lie to me. It’s okay to tell me the truth.”

That tone… he acted as if he was talking to a mere child which, to him, you kind of were, but that’s beside the point. You scowled, biting your tongue to keep in the smart remark that wanted to run free, “You won’t believe me.”

“We will not know that until you tell me.”

You bit down on your lip once more, hard enough to draw blood. Your eyes stared down at the Vongola ring on your finger. Something that looked like recognition flashed through his eyes but disappeared seconds later, as if it was never there to begin with. How could you explain this without sounding like a total nut job? Your fists clenched tightly around your jeans, “I… I’m not… from this era.”

“Oh?” he leaned back in his chair, hands folded and one leg crossed over the other, “Explain.”

“I’m… from the future…” Why not try the truth? Who knows, maybe it will work out.

“The future?” His monotone voice never changed, making it harder for you to understand what the man was feeling or thinking.

“Yeah. I woke up and found myself in this era,” you stood up, walking over to the bookcase and running your hand across the spines. You could feel his eyes boring into your back and it made you uncomfortable. “I don’t know how or why I got sent to the past but I do know I’m going to kill that damned cow when I get back.” Your hand clenched into a fist and you huffed in announce.

Then realization hit you. Hard.

You had been there for well over five minutes. You weren’t returning to your era. Would you ever be able to get back? Your heart clenched at the thought of never seeing Reborn or Tsuna again.

Two hands landed on your shoulders, a wave of calm shooting through your body from the contact. “You’re very stressed out. I’ll put you up in a room for the night, and we can finish this discussion tomorrow after you’ve gotten some rest.”

“Sure…” you muttered, realizing just how tired both your mind and body were. Who knew being sent to the past would be so tiring? You couldn’t stop the questions that swirled around in your brain, though.

Would you ever get back to your own time period? Would you ever see Reborn and Tsuna again? Or would you be stuck in the past forever? What would become of you? Did Tsuna and the others even realize you were gone?

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your neck. His hands slid down your arms, encircling your waist as darkness took over your mind. The feeling of being picked up was the last thing you registered before your mind completely shut down.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

▸Next

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

19 notes · View notes

starshinehemmo · 4 years

Text

The One in Which Your Child Plays Cupid (Professor!Luke)

(mobile) masterlist

word count: 3,7k+

summary: in the end, it’s only thanks to your child that you manage to snatch up your charming professor.

+++

“What's a ‘derogation rule’?” asked a small voice. Everybody's attention diverted to the front of the class, where your little girl sat at the massive teacher's desk, colouring in her book. The professor smiled, turning to her to direct his answer.

“Well, little girl,” he began, “First of all, what do we do before we speak?”

Your daughter's eyes widened, as she blushed. “Oops,” she said. “We raise our hand.”

“That's correct. Another point for the princess!” His eyes twinkled almost as bright as hers as he added another star to her name in the list. Professor Hemmings had taught her how to write her name, so she could scribble it down in his list in order to have her own spot, and whenever she got something right, he'd add to the stars which already continued on to the next page. “Students,” he then said, turning back to the rest of his class, “You should really keep up. Adelaide here is way ahead of you!” The class chuckled while Adelaide looked smug at the professor's comment.

He faced her again. “And now to answer your question, Addy, a ‘derogation rule’ is a norm in which an annulment or invalidation regarding another law is described. Make any sense?”

Adelaide's face scrunched up as she ran his sentence in her mind over again, trying to break it into words and interpret them. After a while, during which no one interrupted her thought process, she nodded her head. “Yeah, I guess so.” For a four-year-old, your little girl already had a massive vocabulary stored in her brain, thanks to her frequently sitting in during your lectures. Her favourite was, of course, Professor Hemmings' one.

He smiled. “Great. Moving on.” He clapped his hands once, getting right back to where he left off, as Adelaide returned her focus to her colouring book.

And this was how it went most of his classes. The professor—well, he was actually just a teacher’s assistant—lectured, and every now and then, Adelaide would raise her hand—or like today, just blurt her question out loud. You'd been a stay-at-home mom for almost two years of her life, but then decided to come back to study as your daughter had grown old enough to either stay at day care or like today, visit your lectures.

///

“Hey, you,” said a voice, pulling you out of your slumber. Instantly, your eyes widened and you shot right up in your seat...and knocked your head into said person's chin. He groaned in pain, mumbling, “Fucking hell.” Professor Hemmings released another string of profanities. “How can a person as small as you hurt so much?”

“I'm—Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry!” you exclaimed, blood rushing into your cheeks. The top of your head throbbed and it took everything in you to keep from rubbing at it. You were embarrassed enough. You couldn't believe you had fallen asleep in the middle of a lecture.

The professor chuckled. “Don't worry about it,” he said, raising his arm. Probably to rub at his chin, which must hurt much more than your head.

Still, you couldn't raise your eyes to look at him. “I apologise for falling asleep,” you said quietly and in a rush, as you began to gather up all your papers and books and stuffing them into your bag as quickly as possible. “I know that was very disrespectful of me, and it won't happen again. Again, I am very sorry!” you blurted, standing on wobbly legs. Finally, you somehow managed to meet his gaze, though you were sure your face was as red as a tomato.

Surprisingly, Hemmings wasn't looking at you in a pissed off kind of way. His eyes more held amusement as his mouth twitched. Clearing his throat, he let his fist fall from his chin. “Are you alright?” he asked, the amusement fading.

“Uh...” He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, my head hurts obviously. Your chin isn't that soft either, you know.” With that being said, you couldn't help but raise your hand and softly rub at the throbbing area of your head. There will most definitely be a noticeable bump tomorrow. “I—Uh, are you alright?”

“Yeah, that?” he asked, pointing towards his chin and then making a swiping motion with his hand. “That's nothing.” You could tell from the angry redness that it was not nothing. Guilt coloured your already red cheeks even redder, all the way to the tips of your ears.

“I'm so sorry,” you said again, holding your hand out as if in peace offering.

Hemmings smiled at you again, his eyes flickering towards your hand before returning back to your eyes. “What's got you sleeping in my lecture anyway?” There was mischief hidden in his voice. So much blood was rushing towards your face that you were beginning to slightly worry about the rest of your body.

“That's not appropriate, I think, Professor.”

He shrugged. “Only, if you make it inappropriate. Which would be all by your own doing. Me? I'm simply demanding an explanation as to what was so interesting the night before that it got you this tired at a one p.m. lecture that the only way to surpass said tiredness, was to sleep it off.”

Raising a hand to your cheek in embarrassment, you couldn't help but blush even harder due to how hot it was. “Stop,” you mumbled softly, half a smile, half a cringe resting on your face. “It's not what you think,” you said. “I'm a single mother.” Gripping the handles of your bag tightly, you dared to raise your eyes.

He wasn't looking at you like you had expected him to. With pity maybe—people tend to look at you like that, thinking you were stuck with a tiny person you didn't want, when in fact you loved her more than life itself. Or with newfound disdain—people tend to look at you like that as well, because of your young age. Professor Hemmings on the other hand was looking at you with ... happiness and there was this glimmer in his eyes. “You have a kid?” he asked, smiling widely.

“Uh, yeah. She's almost two.”

When Hemmings made a move to put down the seat in front of you, you raised your eyebrows. “What?” he asked, “Why stand when we can sit?”

So you unfolded your seat as well and sat down again. He leaned forward in his seat which forced you to back up a little. He didn't seem to notice. “So if she's almost two, how come you're so tired? Don't toddlers sleep through the night?” There was a genuine interest in his voice, another aspect about this conversation that positively surprised you.

“Well, yeah,” you began. “But sometimes I have to take the night shift when a co-worker cancels last minute, so there's that.”

Hemmings leaned back again. “Hmm,” he hummed. “How about, next time you get called in, you stay home the next day—”

“That's not—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted your interruption, laughing. “The professors here are all very understanding when it comes to children. Especially single parents. If you ask them, they'll forward you anything they touched on during the lecture you missed.”

“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly had not.

“Of course. And you know,” he said, raising from his seat again. “You can bring her to lectures as well. To mine that is. Other's too, but I think they'd like a heads up prior to it. I'd really love to meet your little one.” And with a final smile he went back to the front of the class and began gathering up his own stuff.

///

“That's it for today,” Professor Hemmings said as knocks erupted around the room. You quickly stuffed everything back into your bag and walked to your daughter in the front.

“Momma, look at this picture I drew for you!” she shouted, scrambling to get off the high chair to show you her artwork.

“Aw, baby, that's so pretty,” you congratulated her, while taking in the scenery (it was a flower field) with the three stick figures in the front, though you had to do a double take as you saw she had drawn her father into the picture as well—something she hadn't ever done before. “You drew daddy?” you asked quietly, failing to keep the enthusiasm in your voice.

“No, silly momma. I drew Lukey!” she exclaimed excitedly, holding the picture even higher up as she grinned at you.

“Oh?” came your surprise, as you turned to look at Luke with slightly widened eyes. His matched yours. There was also a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks, as he—like the Luke you, and maybe only you from all of your classmates, knew—began fumbling with his hands. He always did this when he was nervous. Though, you could see a grin trying to fight its way on his lips.

“You like it, momma?”

Redirecting your stare from Luke to your daughter, you crouched down in front of her, grabbing her waist and squeezing. “I love it so much, baby girl. You did a very nice job,” you told her, tapping her little nose.

She grinned, a smug look settling on her face. “Thank you, momma.”

“You're very welcome, sunshine.” Looking up, you smiled at a still flustered Luke and then back at your daughter. “Come on, let's finish packing you up and then we can go out to have our ice cream with fries.”

“Yay!” she squealed instantly. Adelaide thrusted her drawing into your chest, suggesting you should take it, before she scrambled up on the big chair and began collecting all of her supplies.

Above you, Luke cleared his throat. Patting his messenger bag, he said, “Good night. I'll see you guys next week,” and with a polite smile turned on his feet.

Quickly, you jumped up from your crouch, calling after him. There was a rush of adrenaline flowing through your veins and it was fuelling a very irrational part of your brain. “Now come on. That's no way for family to act, is it?” Your heart thudded so loudly, you feared he could hear it.

Facing you again, Luke stared at you, his lips slightly apart. “Excuse me?”

Taking a breath, you grinned, adjusting the strap of your bag. “According to my daughter, you're part of our little family. So, daddy—” he choked into a cough, causing your grin to turn into a rather mischievous one “—what do you say to ice cream and fries?”

His eyes fell on Adelaide for a second, who looked up at him in her sweet Adelaide-way. It made your heart swell—seeing both of them looking at each other like that. Though you'd never really paid attention to it, today you noticed just how much love Luke's gaze held when he looked at your daughter. And as him, Adelaide looked at him with so much wonder and amazement. It made you secretly wish that Luke really was her father. You knew, he'd have made a good one.

“Addy, sunshine—” There your heart went again, as he used the same nickname for your daughter. “—you okay with me joining your weekly ice cream date?”

She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up. “Yeah!” she said, and you couldn't help but notice how he said weekly, as in, he'd come with you every week? You were more than fine with that and chose to ignore the other possibility of him referring to the past weekly dates.

“Well,” Luke said, looking at you again. “I guess then it's settled.”

“I guess so,” you answered, grabbing for Adelaide's hand and pulling her off his chair. Together you left the auditorium, Luke walking on the other side of your daughter—her tiny hand clasped in his giant one, swinging.

///

The diner you went to was fairly in the middle of your route home. It had always been there but you hadn't actually walked in until you were pregnant with Adelaide and had major cravings for ice cream and fries. So basically, this tradition began even before she was born, making it that much more special.

Like every week, you walked. Adelaide tended to skip along the streets, drinking in every new thing she discovered with each step she took. You absolutely adored watching your daughter getting to know the world, loved the innocent questions she shot you with her big pure eyes that held an entire universe in them. It reminded you of your own childhood, as your mother loved telling you about what a smart child you had been. And your parents were the greatest tutors in your life, making sure to never leave a question unanswered. So you also paid attention to also give her an answer for whatever question she had, even if sometimes you didn't have the perfect one but rather only a weak "I don't know, baby”. Oftentimes she'd nod, run off and find the answer herself. And every time she shared it with you, amazement engulfed you, because how could such a little girl always manage to find an answer that satisfied her enough? Not even you had the pleasure to always find the right answer.

“Lukey, have you ever broken the law?” Adelaide asked, looking up at your professor, whose hand was still clasped around hers, contrary to yours, which was dangling lonely against your side. Somewhere along the walk she had let go and tugged Luke forward to show him her favourite flowers from a flower shop. With every other person, you would've been offended and maybe just a tiny bit hurt, but surprisingly, not with Luke. It was rather the opposite, as a giant smile had erupted on your face, watching them talk about their favourite animals and why they didn't like going to the zoo. (It was because they didn't like seeing them so sad and caged in.)

“Hm,” Luke said. “Let me think for a second.” After he'd decided on the most appropriate answer for a four-year-old, he said, “I've driven past the speed limit a couple of times before.” Adelaide gasped. “But nothing serious. I've never put anyone in danger by it,” he assured, watching her carefully, to see if she was satisfied with his answer.

“But Lukey, you're a teacher of the law!” Adelaide spoke, her eyes widened and clear horror written on her face. She stopped mid-stride, pushing their intertwined hands against his hips. “You should do better, Lukey.”

Both you and Luke snorted as you couldn't keep your laughter in. Glancing at each other, you saw the amusement in this situation. Your toddler kid was seriously scolding an almost uni-professor. Only your child would have the courage to do such a thing.

Adelaide's eyebrows scrunched up in annoyance at your laughing. “This isn't funny, mommy and Lukey. This is serious.” But upon seeing her adorable little face, you couldn't help but laugh even more, much to her anger. “Mommy! Don't laugh at me! Laws are here for a reason. You should all be ashamed of yourself,” she finished her speech, then freed her hand out of Luke's grasp, turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. Quickly, you silenced your laughter, even though you still found this moment to be quite funny, but didn't want your daughter to feel anymore ridiculed.

Looking at Luke, you saw that he held the same regretful expression. Shrugging, he exclaimed, “Yeah, don't laugh at Addy, mommy!” in a mock voice. You swallowed back a sound of surprise, as your heart forgot a beat in its rhythm.

But Adelaide only said, “You laughed, too, Lukey.”

Clearing his throat, he crouched down behind Adelaide—awkwardly, long limbs bent uncomfortably—and said, “We're sorry we laughed, Addy, sunshine.” But she simply took another step away from him. And you could've sworn, you saw Luke's shoulders drop a tiny bit as he witnessed her rejection to his apology—like he was seriously hurt by the distance she put between them. Tentatively, he reached his hand forward and sweetly swiped his forefinger across the back of her neck and then tickled her back, which, of course, caused her to giggle and pull away. “Don't be mad, little girl. We are very sorry and you're right. We should pay more attention to the laws since they were put in place for a reason. I promise I won't speed anymore. And your mommy. . .Well, I actually don't know what laws she likes to break, so mommy—” he looked up at you, the same clouded look in his eyes that he had before, when he had called you mommy “—what laws do you like breaking, huh?”

Glaring and blushing at him at the same time, you said, “Sometimes I walk even when it's still red. But like Luke promised, I will also try to never walk when it's red, because that is against the law,” before crouching down beside Luke to wait for your daughter's reaction.

With that being said, Adelaide spun back around, the biggest grin plastered on her face as she threw herself into you two and latched her arms around your necks. Both of you laughed, hugging her back and in result, each other. You must've looked funny to bystanders, crouched there in a heap—a triangular hug. Though as the seconds ticked by, all your mind seemed to focus on, was how much of a family you must've looked like as well.

Luke's arm was wound tightly around your waist, and the second he removed it, your skin tingled from the loss of contact.

“Now,” he said. “I think two very pretty girls promised me ice cream with fries, no?” He reached for your daughter’s hand again, smiling in content.

///

“Addy, sunshine, look at your face,” you exclaimed, giggling. “It’s full of ice cream.” Grabbing a napkin, you reached across the table to wipe it off, but were beat to it by Luke.

“I got it,” he said, taking the napkin from you and gently wiping Adelaide’s mouth. When he finished, Addy turned her head and grinned at him. This sight truly warmed your heart. Unsurprisingly, your daughter had chosen to sit next to Luke, leaving you all by yourself on the other side. It gave you a perfect view to watch them interact, though, and seeing them together made you forget all about the fact that Adelaide had chosen somebody else over you. The fact made you even strangely happy.

It reminded you of a father-daughter relationship.

///

Adelaide yawned. “I’m tired, momma.”

“We’re going home now. In just a few minutes you can go to sleep, all right?” you said, pulling her to her feet.

“But I don’t think I can make it home, momma.” She pouted. And for good measurement, she swayed a little, her eyes widening in innocence.

Biting your lip, you knew exactly what she was trying to achieve here. “Addy, you’re such a big girl now. Momma doesn’t have the strength to carry you.”

She grinned, the tired face she’d perfected slipping for a tiny moment, as she said “But Lukey can!”, before she went back to swaying.

“Oh no, baby, he can’t,” you told her, blushing. “That’s not—”

“Sure, I can,” Luke’s voice interrupted you.

You shot Adelaide an scolding look, before regarding Luke with an apologetic one. “You really don’t have to. She’s just being lazy, and if she really can’t carry on, I’ll carry her. Really, it’s no problem. Least of all yours.”

Luke solemnly shook his head, grinning. “I got this. Relax, momma bear.”

Dang, what the hell was up with this man today? If he kept calling you any more of these things, your heart might just jump straight out of your chest.

///

“It was a really nice day today. With you,” said Luke from behind you, as you fumbled with your keys to fit in the lock of your apartment.

Grinning to yourself, you threw him a smile across your shoulder. “I enjoyed your company as well, Professor.” Finally, the key disappeared into the lock and with a satisfying click, you nudged the door open.

Turning around, you could see Luke rolling his eyes at you. “I really don’t want to think of myself as your teacher.”

For a second, fear froze your body. But then you saw the blush in his cheeks and how his teeth were buried in his bottom lip. “And why’s that?” Slowly, your tongue ran across your own lip. “Professor?”

With your sleeping daughter in his arms, he took a tentative step closer to you. “Well,” he said, gaze wandering to his feet. “I don’t know about you, but I rather think a teacher-student-relationship is unethical. Don’t you agree?” His eyes met yours.

Slowly, you reached out to brush through Adelaide’s soft hair. “Who said anything about a relationship?” you tease, keeping your voice serious.

“I—I thought—” Luke began to stutter, his cheeks flaming red, but you wanted to toy with him just a little longer, just because he looked so darn adorable. “Okay, this is kind of awkward. . .” he said, as he tried to look anywhere, but at you. “I’m so sorry—”

His agony caused you agony as well and suddenly you couldn’t bear to see him this uncomfortable anymore. In a swift move, you placed your hands on either side of his face to pull him down to you and pressed your lips to his.

Luke stumbled into you, but quickly regained his balance so he wouldn’t smash Adelaide between your bodies. “Wha—” came his surprised voice, but you only kissed him harder. Luke relaxed, kissing you like he had all the time in the world and like he was in a rush all at once. His feet came closer to yours, pushing you back into your apartment.

Once you were all inside, he leaned back, whispering, “I really wish I had my hands free for this,” against your cheek, laughing quietly.

Pulling back, you took Adelaide from his arms and solemnly stood there, staring at him sheepishly. “Did this just seriously happen?” you asked, blushing.

Luke shook out his arms and then placed his hands in his pockets. He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, I hope it did.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to sound like a creeper or anything,” he said, “but I’ve been dreaming of this. With you.” He blushed.

“You only sound like a creep a little tiny bit,” you assured him, laughing. “Let me just put her down, and then we can have a cup of coffee?”

“I don’t drink coffee, but sure,” Luke called after you, as you were already walking towards Adelaide’s room.

Turning around, you said, “Tea then. Just stay for a second, please?”

He grinned again, giving you a thumbs up. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll stay.”

And that was more than enough.

+++

a/n i wrote this ages ago. seriously, i remember first writing this when i started uni, so 4 years ago almost? i hope it somehow brightened your quarantine :)

14 notes · View notes

dafukdidiwatch · 4 years

Text

Cool Cat Saves The Kids

I watched this movie and I still can’t believe this is the actual cover art for it.

God I wrote so many notes about this that even my flipping Bullet Points were basically an essay. I don’t even know how to begin just thinking about it hurts my head.

Overview: Cool Cat is Cool. Things happen to him, and he has to deal with bullying.

That’s it. That’s the thing I watched. Because there is no Real Flipping Plot to this movie.

This is a kid’s show. Or at the very minimum, a movie that is intended for children. It was based on a kid’s book series I’ve never heard of whose author Derek Savage decided to turn it into a movie. Though movie isn’t exactly what I would call it. When you watch it, it honestly feels like there are six 15 minute shorts that they just mashed together to a feature film, but even then that is a Generous Description.

Basically, the film tries to be a children’s program (and I guess has beef with Barney?). And you can see intent behind it being informative child-friendly psa. But the execution was so bad.

First, there is no plot. Sure the cover says that this is “an anti-bullying kid gun safety movie,” but it really give you nothing. What would happen is that Cool Cat has a problem, like someone bullying him or his friends. It would either A) be addressed immediately and solved so that’s great, or B) it is dropped immediately and never really addressed throughout the rest of the film.

And example of A is that the bully kid Butch just starts stealing candy just to be “evil,” Cool Cat sees that and chases him, and the kid gets arrested twenty seconds later. The End.

For B, Cool Cat gets a mean email. And...that’s about it. He responds to the email, but doesn’t actually address the issue and the subplot drops entirely until that VERY Last wrap up scene.

I think the reason for this lack of plot is that there was just WAY too many messages in here. Like, take a shot every time you see a psa announcement. It ranges from don’t bully, how to deal with bullies, being creative, crossing the street safely, to fricking GUN?! Like, the gun thing that I Guess was promoted in the movie tagline, only shows up the last 10 minutes. It caught me so off guard. You cannot call this a Gun Safety movie when guns aren’t even prevalent!!

And the lack of plot is counterproductive when you want to make a Kid’s Movie like this. If you want to tackle each issue as a show or a short, the messages would come across better. There would be more time to develop each message for kids to really understand. But because there is So Much to cover, a lot of the things are gonna fall to the wayside. There is no way a kid would pay attention to this, and if they do I doubt they are gonna learn everything that Derek Savage is trying to teach. There just isn’t any real focus.

The acting, god like they Tried to go with the kid friendly vibe, but was not working. At All. It was like they thought that to add emotion is to just enunciate your words as loudly as you can. Cool Cat was way too yelly. Every line he was just screaming, has no change whatsoever. Even Elmo can sound sad when need be (fucking love Elmo, but he does has a similar voice vibe to Cool Cat, just better).

Then the kids....I don’t want to be mean but I’ll be blunt. They are just reading lines, this is a middle school stage play basically. I’m not blaming the kids, Butch look like he had a hell of a time doing his villain laugh. It’s just that some of the scenes felt like it was taken in one shot and they didn’t bother to retry. Example: One kid got too excited and jumped his line, but they couldn’t just retake that??

And the lines, man. OOF. Some of it was bad. Like, really really bad placement.They should have had someone proof-read this.

Cool Cat: “Why Are You Painting That Wall?”

Random Kid: “Because Nobody Loves Us”

lol what?

Maria: “I bet those kids have never been shown love before.”

Cool Cat: “Thanks, and it’s all true”

LOL What??

There are just a LOT of lines like that that should have been rephrased.

THEN there are the freaking technical issues.

The audio kept fluctuating in sound quality, which honestly started to hurt with Cool Cat’s constant yelling. Some scenes it sounds like they recorded in a studio, sometimes it sounded like the actors had to yell in order for the camera to capture it. There were echos, there were layers, you can’t hear the lines over the song, you can’t hear the song over the cheers. There was one point whispers overlaid on top of the lines where I thought that Cool Cat just got haunted now. And the fun side of having headphones on means I heard the phone button noises in only One Ear. LOUDLY.

Blocking could have been better. There were a lot of backs to the camera, shots of characters walking away from camera not just off screen. This didn’t bother me as much, because I know this isn’t professionally made. But it didn’t feel like they really tried as much as just half-assed it. Example:

Cool Cat was drawing a picture with different colors, but the actor only used one marker and just said different colors. Or Cool Cat is working on a poster but really just rubs the already completed poster on a clean table as him “working.” Like, how hard is it to just film on a table with a bunch of craft supplies around you?

Then there are the questionable camera shots. LOTS of lingering shots to I assume fill up run time. These are shots of just showing Cool Cat walking round without having any real purpose. It shows Cool Catwalk all the way Up Stairs. Walked all the way Down Stairs. Walking into the House, walking into the Car. Even just shots of the parents doing things with no real motivation or impact to whatever Cool Cat is doing. It’s just there. If you want to say stuff like "oh well its to show the parents relationship" no it doesn’t. You can’t really add nuance to characters when the rest of the film is just one chaotic shot after the other. It just gets lost in translation.

The music number is probably what hurts me the most. You see Cool Cat WRITE the song. Then he SINGS the song. Then he DANCES to a DIFFERENT song. And that was it. He just needed the song for the parade, but there wasn’t any explanation or anything. I don’t even know WHY he needs the song for the parade! There was no explanation. It was just an excuse to have two back-to-back bad music video of poor choreography that again, NO POINT to whatever plot/message/psa thing he is trying to do.

I get that there should be some leeway since it looked like this was shot at Derek Savage’s house/neighborhood, so there really isn’t much they could do with their setting. But they could at least tried more with what they had. Cool Cat’s room doesn’t look exactly child friendly. There are only blank drab walls with two, maybe three posters of just Cool Cat himself. There is a reason the settings in other children shows have vibrant colors to engage them. Along with that, another half-assing moment was Butch graffiting Cool Cat’s poster, but it was one of those political posters you stuck on the lawn so it was like a foot tall outside. 1) You can’t really see that shit that small. 2) You couldn’t put the poster on a wall to film that scene at, to give a better view to the audience? It’s just a bunch of little things like that all over this film that really adds up.

Also, what’s with the posters only being about Cool Cat in his own room? A bit narcissistic if you ask me.

I'm also like 70%,sure they made this movie around the footage of them being in the Hollywood parade twice. They were at the parade, got the film, and wanted to use it so they made a movie for it. And I know it was twice because the announcers that were there to announce the arrival of Cool Cat had a costume change after switching scenes.

And after ALL of this, there is just so many random shit that really don’t do anything. Elements are randomly introduced and just as randomly dropped. We get a “next day” transition in the middle of the movie when days have already passed before them. Cool Cat breaks the 4th wall a couple of times with no real reason why. There is this joke where the camera was following Cool Cat into the bathroom for Cool Cat to ask for privacy, only to just ignore that bit every time he goes to the bathroom afterwards. Cool Cat just makes random ass noises when doing things, not important stuff. Just Doing Things. And he does this weird thing where I think he is trying to do Air Guitar, but it just looks like he is just shaking his leg a lot. I don’t really get it.

(Oh Shit, it is only after like the 3rd proof-read of this review I notice that in the gif you can clearly see the dude’s actual leg. I don’t know how mascot suits actually work, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to let kids actually see that there’s a person underneath in a kid’s show.)

There is also this....lowkey humblebrag going on? Which does not do the movie favors. After the first dumb song number, Derek shows off that he has a signed guitar by Van Halen. Like not just him playing it (which after the 15th zoom in on the guitar how could you NOT notice it thank you Derek), but pointing out to the audience that, Yes it was Indeed signed by Van Halen. Then there is the footage from the Hollywood Parade about the cars there. Sure, I get showing off like the Ghostbusters car, or Jurassic Park car, or the Batmobile. But Hurby the Love Bug? Night Rider?? Starsky and Hutch??? Magnum P.I.?????? The target audience is elementary kids, they aren’t going to know these old shows. So who is this for exactly?

Kudos to the cop for actually doing this, seriously. That cop probably had a hell of a lot of better things to do than arrest children for a bad after-school special.

And this is just SOME of the main problems of this film. There’s so much going on it would be impossible for me to go over everything without

The thing is, there is good material here. Maybe not great results, but there are a lot of ideas here that you can work with to make a decent kid’s movie. I actually loved the part where Cool Cat is dreaming and trying to figure out how he should handle bullies. I thought that was a good scene and a good way to show kids how to think through different options. There are good ideas here, but it was just way to much going on at once the movie basically shoots itself in the foot.

So here is My Version of what Cool Cat should have done.

Cool Cat is running for School President. That’s the main story line. Early in the movie he learns of a writing contest where the winner gets their own float at the hollywood parade (stretch but roll with it). But Cool Cat has no idea what to write, and talks to it with his friends who offers ideas. So he is juggling that along with running for Student President.

However, the Butch the Bully doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want Cool Cat to win. So he vandalizes his posters. Cool cat still runs and makes better posters. Butch tries to frame Cool Cat for vandalizing the playground, but instead his cronies get caught and convinced that it was a bad idea. So Butch decides to cyberbully Cool Cat and his friends to scare them off. He works with the other kid running for President to make a hate ad against Cool Cat, telling everyone how terrible and bad Cool Cat is. Cool Cat tries to go against this my making his music video song over how cool he is to swing the votes, making Butch more angry and vindictive to his bullying scheme.

Cool Cat doesn’t know how to get Butch to stop, but after getting advice from his friends, parents, teachers, and some hard thinking, he decides to confront Butch about his bullying issue, tell someone, and thus solves the problem. Later on after talking to Butch, maybe manages to convince him to start being friends.

Finally, Cool Cat uses this scenario to write his story about how to deal with bullying and make new friends. Which wins and we end with the Hollywood Parade.

Is this perfect? No. But it focuses the idea to one main plot (running for president) with the other issues naturally coming off of it, instead of making each issue it’s own separate thing. There is no random shifts in narrative, no GUN moments (or GUN in general we kick that shit out) and just focus on the main bullying theme.

Overall: This was a weird and bad children’s show. You have to put in a lot of effort into making a movie, but there was just too much going on for this to be a Good Children’s Movie, least of all a Good Movie in general. But it isn’t to say that it wasn’t morbidly enjoyable. It’s was like playing Spot The Difference to find all the Wrong Things in here. It was fun in a bad way.

So will I show this to children? No. But will I play a drinking game with my friends where we take a shot every time someone says the phrase “Cool Cat”? Yeah that sounds enjoyable.

Take a shot for every time you read “Cool Cat” in my review.

Side Note:

You had this as a GUN PSA, wtf are you doing holding a gun!? Given how the only 3 videos this channel has is only Cool Cat Trailers, I’m assuming this is official Cool Cat. Soooo.....what the hell?

#dafukblog #dafuking films #cool cat #cool cat saves the kids #week 8 movie #derek savage

17 notes · View notes

sexvimpulse · 4 years

Text

Augustine: [Waits in the lounge for her, writing a few details of La Boîte as inspiration for his next book. He crosses his legs as he leans back, before he sees her feet on the ground in front of him] There you are. Do you remember my name today? [Peers up at her behind his glasses]

Emmeline: [Searches for the page with her upcoming client’s information, using the journal that her daddy told her to get. She reads her notes, finally committing his name to memory this time. Reaching the lounge she inhales deeply and hears Elias’s voice in her head] Make him feel like he’s all I see. [Speaks to herself before seeing him in his seat. She saunters to him and wears a sweet little smile on her lips, shaking off her anxieties] Bonsoir, Monsieur. [Greets him with a honeyed tone before he returns it with a condescending tone. She lowers her eyes, instantly feeling intimidated by him, more so than she did when she first met Elias] Of course I did. [Smiles charmingly] You are Monsieur Clement. [Leans down as she gives a polite kiss on his cheek] How are you this evening, Monsieur?

Augustine: [Blinks as he’s pleased she remembered his name but he doesn’t let it show] I’m impatient. [Stands up and towers over her] And I’d like a proper kiss, Emmeline. [Stares down at her]

Emmeline: [Tries not to think of Elias while she’s with her client. She smiles as she tells him his name, but is disappointed as it doesn’t seem to gain any reaction from him] Impatient? Je suis désolée if I took too long, Monsieur Clement. [Takes in a breath as he stands up. He easily stares down at her, making her feel more intimidated under the scrutiny of his gaze] Monsieur, you may call me Emme if you’d like. [Tells him before hearing his demand. She steps closer as she meets his gaze before closing her eyes and placing a soft, lingering kiss on his lips—a change from the pecks she would give before] Do you feel better now? [Traces his jawline with her fingertips, giving him all of her attention]

Augustine: [Says nothing as she continues talking, his features expressionless and unreadable] I would not like. [Tilts his head] Why ruin the name your mother gave you? [Squints his eyes behind his dark frames but he softens and closes them as she kisses him] Hm.. [Melts a little internally as he cups her face and kisses her again, this time slipping his tongue into her mouth to deepen it a bit more] Oui. Je vais à Maison des Mots. [Murmurs as he starts to walk, his hand on the name of her neck as they head toward there] I want to finish fleshing out some ideas before we have dinner. [Crosses the lounge and down the hall as he makes it to the library’s lounge. He chooses a private nook and sits on the couch before pulling her to him and letting her rest her head on his lap as he pulls out his journal] Did you have other clients today, Emmeline? [Strokes her hair as he reads over some of his notes]

Emmeline: [He makes her feel guilty as he brings up her mother—causing her to wonder if she’ll be able to fake her way through this when he challenges her so much. She starts to pull away but is surprised as he takes another kiss] Monsieur.. [Speaks between the exchange until he deepens it. She tries to keep her tongue to herself but as she feels his something stir inside of her, making her helpless as she tastes him back] Mmm.. [Moans softly before pulling back, lips and tongue tingling with the foreign sensation. Goosebumps appear on her flesh as he touches her sensitive neck, a weakspot for her] Oui, Monsieur Clement. Whatever you wish. [Looks around as they walk, hoping to see her Elias before they enter the library] I’ve never been here before. [Parts her lips as she finds it so beautiful, always having had a fondness for books. Her excitement is clipped as they enter a private area, realizing that it’s the first time she’s really been alone with him or any client] Oh.. Merci, Monsieur. [Bites her lip as he makes her rest her head on his lap. She feels wildly intimidated but stares up at him, taking note of his chiseled jaw and the speckle in his blue eyes] Hmm? Non, Monsieur Clement. Just you. [Speaks honestly, hiding the fact that her daddy had her this morning. She’s pulled from reverie, involuntarily purring as he’s soft with her] I’m glad that I am only yours today. You won’t have to share me. [Speaks her sweet words before taking his hand as she lays soft kisses on his knuckles] What are you writing, Monsieur? Perhaps you can read something to me? [Gazes with her doe-shaped eyes, a dimple appearing as she tries to keep the lightness between them]

Augustine: [Blinks as she seems to try so hard, not liking how it feels fake, but he finds her cute. He lets her kiss his hand but removes it as he looks through his notes some more] I’m writing a novel. [Murmurs as he taps the end of his pen against his lips] It’s nowhere near ready. [Shakes his head] You like being read to, don’t you? Like a child? [Cocks a brow as he eyes her]

Emmeline: [Listens to him as if he has her undivided attention. She watches as the pen draws her eyes to his lips, noticing the curves of his mouth and almost finding it “tempting” to kiss him and see if she’ll feel that tingling sensation again] What is it about, Monsieur? Is La Boîte the source of your inspiration? [Asks as she’s genuinely curious. Hearing his reply, her smile fades and her brows furrow slightly] Oh. Oui, I suppose. [Hates how he makes her feel as he looks at her. Trying not to sulk or feel embarrassed, she puts on the facade again and gets off his lap, sitting beside him but leaving space] I just wanted to hear your voice, Monsieur Clement. There’s something intimate about being read to, wouldn’t you agree? [Tilts her head as she meets his eyes]

Augustine: [Is suspicious of whether she’s trying to sell details of his book to someone, and he ignores her question. He thinks for a moment wondering if maybe he should find a different escort] I find it intimate in a way a parent is with a child. [Blinks] Two equals wouldn’t find that to be romantic.. they would both read separately and discuss. Once someone is reading it to you, you’re already tainted by their perception, non? [Doesn’t look at her as she gets up from him, writing potential dialogue down] I wish you would be honest with me, Emmeline. I don’t like frauds. [Finally gazes at her] You try very hard when you don’t need to.

Emmeline: [Doesn’t understand his cold nature, but tries her best to adapt to it. Hearing his explanation, her lips part as she stares at him, trying to study him. It makes her think of Elias, loving how easy it is with him while she feels frustrated with Augustine] Honest? [Raises a brow before exhaling as he exposes her. She feels embarrassed and wonders if this is a test, but doesn’t play the act any more] I wouldn’t need to try so hard if you would be less cold towards me. [Purses her lips] Equals can still read to one another. A mind doesn’t stop even if you’re hearing a voice other than your own. [Retorts as she feels challenged by him] At least mine doesn’t, Monsieur. [Looks away as she bites her lower lip as she gets up] I’m going to look around. Excuse me, Monsieur Clement. [Heads to an aisle, feeling heated and sulky]

Augustine: Do you truly think whoever is reading to you is actually your equal? [Scoffs as he rolls his eyes. He lets her storm off, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face as he wonders if he should just find another escort. He walks to where she is] I’m going to ask for a different escort. You can keep tonight’s payment. [Says, completely serious as he doesn’t have time to spend babying this girl] Au revoir, Emmeline.

Emmeline: [Pulls a book from Beauvoir and flips through it before furrowing her brows as he walks up to her. She parts her lips as he tells her that he’s done with her, instantly regretting her reaction as it means that her stats will go down and she’ll lose money for her maman] Je suis très désolée, Monsieur Clement. [Expresses genuine remorse as she takes his hand to stop him from leaving] I shouldn’t have reacted that way. S’il vous plaît, forgive me. [Gazes up at him, meeting his cold eyes] I.. I am new at this. But I can learn. I am willing to learn and be better for you, Monsieur. [Tries to fix the situation, remembering how Elias said that he fucks clients if they’re mad at him, but she can’t exactly do that] You can teach me to be better.. [Moves closer to leave little space between them as she stares through her thick lashes]

Augustine: [Blinks as he hears her, hearing her sincerity. He softens ever so slightly as she comes closer] I don’t know. [Licks his lips] We don’t seem like a good fit, do we? [Tilts his head] I can tell you don’t like me.

Emmeline: [Puts the book away as she hears him. She doesn’t say anything as she thinks of how to salvage this or how Elias would react. Acting on impulse she takes his hands and places them on her hips, leaning in as she kisses his throat before tiptoeing to leaves kisses around his jaw] S’il vous plaît.. [Stares at him deeply before pressing her lips onto his. Easing into it and getting over the intimidation, she parts her lips and traces the shape of his mouth with her tongue, begging for an entrance]

Augustine: What are you doing? [Bites back a moan as she litters his flesh with kisses] Emmel— [Is interrupted by her kissed his hands gripping her tight waist as he kisses her back, pressing her up against the bookshelf as he’s hungry for the real her]

Emmeline: [Slips her tongue into his mouth as he parts his lips for her. She doesn’t think as she focuses on what she feels] Mmngh. [Moans as he traps her between the bookshelf and his body. She grips his hair before biting on his lower lip] Teach me, Monsieur.. I’m willing to learn. [Whispers against his lips, her chest heaving as she stares into his piercing eyes]

Augustine: [Grunts as she bites his lower lip and grips his hair, wanting to dominate her. He turns her roughly around and grips her hair] Mon étudiante? [Laughs darkly as he speaks into her ear, his other hand cradling her face] I don’t think you’re ready for such things, Emmeline. [His hand moves from her face to her throat, down over her breasts and between her legs, tormenting her little clit over her panties] Mm.. [Places a chaste kiss on her neck before pulling away completely] Pick a book. I will read to you.

Emmeline: Ugh! [Whines as he makes her face the books, hitting the shelves as he handles her roughly. She swallows as the dark tone in his voice makes her body shiver] Monsieur.. [Parts her lips, trying to move away from his touch but he’s strong enough to keep her in place. She bites her lip as she tries not to moan, brows furrowing as he has his hands over her breasts] Monsieur, don’t.. [Grips his wrist to stop him before gasping as he adds pressure onto her clit, violating and arousing her all at once. Inner thighs quiver as she tries not to find pleasure in his touch. As he pulls away, she feels at a loss for words, shocked and conflicted as the fabric of her panties feel wet] Quoi..? [Blinks as her mind races before trying to calm down] Oh.. Oui.. [Quickly grabs something before handing it to him. She heads back to their private area, ignoring the discomfort between her legs]

Augustine: [Smiles as he makes his way back, plopping down and crossing his legs. He grabs the book and chuckles] How appropriate. [Murmurs as he flips through and finds the excerpt he’d like to read to her] “Because to influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of someone else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for.” [Reads smoothly and effectively] That was my point earlier. [Murmurs as he flips through the pages]

Emmeline: [Feels tension and slight guilt as she sits next to him. Her body is still in a frenzy from the memories of his touch before she tries to distract herself with the sound of his voice. She listens intently, brows furrowing as she starts to understand what he meant—making her wonder if it applies to her and Elias. Trying to ignore it, she finds herself drawn to his velvety smooth voice, feeling attracted in that moment] I see. Merci beaucoup, Monsieur.. [Trails off in deep thought before looking at him] By reading to me.. do you now think that you have some influence on me, Monsieur? [Tilts her head, thinking that a person can choose to be influenced or not]

Augustine: [Turns to her] Yes. I already influenced you to think about how you’ve been influenced by others, did I not? [Cocks a brow]

Emmeline: [A small, amused smile appears on her lips as she finds his intellect quite attractive] Je suppose que tu l'as fait, Professeur Clement. [Bites her lower lip before looking away] I think that we’re all a collection of people we’ve encountered. [Runs her fingers through her hair] We can develop on our own.. but we still take bits and pieces from everyone in some shape or form. It’s not something that can be entirely avoided. [Starts to feel shy as she speaks, probably looking foolish in his eyes]

Augustine: [Listens to her speak, smiling slightly as she’s open with him] Oui. That is an astute observation. [Licks his lips] What bits and pieces have you taken from others, Emmeline?

Emmeline: [Blushes softly as he expresses a small smile, making her find him more handsome] Well.. I started to write more of my thoughts into a journal. I took that from.. a very good friend of mine. [Smiles softly as she thinks of her daddy] Do you think that you have anything to take from me, Monsieur? [Asks softly as she gazes into his eyes, feeling relaxed for once as he talks more]

Augustine: [Listens to her intently] I think I have plenty of things to take from you. [Stares at her intensely] What will you give to me. [Pulls her to him and makes her straddle him, placing his hands on her waist innocently enough as he looks up at her]

Emmeline: [Feels slightly weak as he looks at her as if he wants to devour her] It depends on what you want, Monsieur. [Smiles coyly as she warms up to him before parting her lips as he forces her on his lap. She places her hands on his shoulders, wondering if he’s aware of the restrictions] You can have a kiss from me, Monsieur. If you’d like.. [Leans down as she kisses his cheek, lips lingering]

Augustine: [just watches her above him as he leans back on the couch] Oui, s’il vous plaît. [Turns his head to catch her lips, licking her mouth open and sucking on her lower lip] Hmm.. [Pulls back and rests his forehead against her chest] I want you, Emmeline. [Murmurs] But you’re not that kind of escort. [His fingers trace lines on her exposed back from her dress] I should find another, Oui?

Emmeline: [Involuntarily moans into the kiss, not realizing how she’s pressing herself more against him as he sucks on her lip] Mngh, Monsieur.. [Her body feels hot, not understanding how he’s able to make her feel this way. She tries to relax as his face is near her full breasts, feeling heat racing down her spine as he touches her] Quoi? [Parts her lips as he makes her feel conflicted. She can’t bring herself to sleep with anyone but she also doesn’t want to lose him] Non, don’t find someone else, Monsieur Clement. [Pouts down at him] You wouldn’t abandon your étudiante, would you?

Augustine: [Blinks] But you can’t give me what I want. [Bites his lip as he looks up at her behind his glasses]

Emmeline: [Stares deeply into his eyes as she searches for an answer. She never intended on having sex with any of her clients, but she can’t bear the thought of losing another client and seeing him with a different escort] Can’t I give you other things, mon Professeur? [Sinks onto his lap as she leans towards his neck. Inhaling his scent, her body reacts to his smell as she grinds slowly on him] Mon attention.. [Kisses his throat, biting a small spot before easing it with her tongue] Mon affection.. [Punctuates his jaw with her lips] Ma dévotion.. [Takes his hands and places it on her round backside as she rests her forehead against his] Is it not enough, Professeur?

Augustine: You wish to tease me. [Pouts as his cock hardens beneath her movements] I want to be inside you, Emmeline. [Puts his hand on the nape of her neck]

Emmeline: [Lips part into a sultry smile as she eyes him heatedly—her pussy aches as she hears the torment in his voice] Mmm.. I think I need to learn a few lessons before I go any further, Professeur. [Her lips are near his but she resists from his kissing him. Running her hands down his body, she rolls her hips just to get a feel of his hardness] Don’t you agree, mon Professeur? [She can feel the tension between them, feeling shocked as her attraction grows]

Augustine: [Groans as she grinds on his cock, pulling her down for a kiss] Mm.. what do you want me to teach you before you give yourself to me? [Speaks against her lips]

Emmeline: [Gives him a slow, teasing kiss as she swirls her tongue all over his] How to be a good girl, Professeur. [Bites on his lower lip a bit defiantly] How to tease you.. [Smiles coyly as she can get an idea of his length against her pussy]

Augustine: Mm.. I think you already know how to tease me. [Growls as his takes his fingers and rubs her full lips before pushing them into her mouth and pressing down on her tongue] And I know you know how to be a good girl. [Loves the sight of her pretty face with his fingers in her mouth]

Emmeline: [Her body feels hot to the touch as he growls his words at her. She lets herself feel hypnotized by his dark gaze as she kisses his fingertips before whining softly from being forced to take it into her mouth] Mnghh.. [Takes his wrist as she closes her eyes, holding him in place as she pulls back, swirling her tongue all over his digits before bobbing her head to take him again—she keeps up the rhythm, wanting him to wish that her mouth was elsewhere] Tastes good, Professeur.

Augustine: [Groans as she shows off for him. He pulls his wet fingers from her mouth and moves them between her legs, pushing her panties to the side and rubbing her little clit] You’re wet. [Growls his words lowly before he slips his middle finger inside her, thumb pressing on her clit]

Emmeline: [Her devious little smile fades as he lowers his hand and slips it under her dress] Professeur, non.. [Tries to stop his hand before gasping as she feels his digits against her exposed pussy. Gripping his hair, she quivers and moans as he teases her clit] Non.. Enough, Monsieur.. Ughhh! [Throws her head back, moaning harshly as his digits slips into her tight opening. She bites hard on her lip to stop her noises while trying to hold his hands wrist back] It’s not allowed.. Mmm.. Professeur stop.. [Walls tighten and her clit swells, feeling helpless as he keeps her in place]

Augustine: [His eyes beam as she enjoys his touch so much] It can be our secret, Emmeline. [Murmurs as his other hand keeps her on him] I told you I wanted to be inside you. [Speaks lowly]

Emmeline: [Opens her eyes and sees the devilish look in his gaze. She glares at him, hating how conflicted she feels as she’s so helpless to resist it] You.. You have to stop, Monsieur. S’il vous plaît.. [Speaks in a begging tone while her walls constrict around his digits. She pulls his hair and hides her face in his neck as she involuntarily moves her hips to feel the length of his digit, soaking him in her juices]

Augustine: Hm.. you don’t really want me to stop, do you? [Smirks as she grinds against his finger] Tell me you like it when I’m inside you, Emmeline. [Speaks into her ear as he keeps working her pussy, pressing harder on her clit so she cums for him as he circles it]

Emmeline: Arrêtez.. S’il vous plaît.. [Whines as she hears his filthy words in her ear. Her body can’t resist from grinding into his hand as he torments her. Her eyes roll back as he presses on her clit, pussy throbbing violently] Mngh! [Whimpers harshly as her body convulses, her orgasm courses through her and draws out juices from her cunt] No more, Professeur.. I can’t take anymore.. [Grips his wrist as her inner thighs shake, gasping as he pleasures her bundle of nerves too much]

Augustine: [Laughs darkly as she cums, continuing to torment her so she can quickly reach another and another] I won’t stop until you tell me what I want to hear. [Bites on her ear lobe]

Emmeline: Monsieur, arrêtez! [Cries out as he doesn’t stop tormenting her pussy. She cums again and again, the sensation overpowers her and almost feels painfully] I like it, Monsieur! I like you inside of me! [Squirts all over his digits the instant that he bites on her lobe, her body crashing against his as she can’t take anymore of it]

Augustine: [Is thoroughly amused as she gives in, catching her cum in his hand as he moves it to his mouth and licks and sucks his fingers clean] Mngh.. [Smears it over her lips, letting her taste herself]

Emmeline: [Brows furrow as she has a look of sexual frustration on her features. She parts her lips as she watches him taste her pussy on his fingers] Mon dieu.. [Whimpers as the sight makes her ache, finding him so filthy before she tastes it on her lips. She doesn’t lick it off as she leans in and kisses him aggressively, getting it all over his mouth before biting hard on his lower lip defiantly]

Augustine: [Moans into the kiss, liking that she’s a bit eager for him now before he grunts as she bites him, tasting blood] Mm.. are you trying to prove you’re a bad girl, Emmeline? [Slaps her cheek before gripping her face and kissing her harshly]

Emmeline: Maybe. [Stares at him darkly as she sees the blood on his lips before whimpering as her cheek turns hot from his slap] Ungh! [Weaves her fingers through his hair, gripping it as she kisses him back, not understanding the hunger she feels. She breaks off the kiss as her pussy throbs again, knowing she needs to calm down] No more.. No more, Monsieur..

Augustine: Mm.. okay, Emmeline. [Says, satisfied that he made her cum] I’m hungry now.. [kisses her neck softly] Shall we have dinner at Le Refectoire? [Takes her hand and kisses it, feeling sweet now that he’s gotten a bit more]

Emmeline: [Adjusts her panties, feeling like a complete mess before purring softly as she feels his kisses] I’m a mess, Monsieur. [Pouts before fixing up her dress, noticing how he’s much sweeter than before. She blinks at him before leaning in as she wipes the blood from his lower lip] This can’t happen again, Professeur. [Blushes softly as her body still comes down from the high]

Augustine: [Pouts as he hears her] Will you report me? [Tilts his head as he look up at her]

Emmeline: [Gazes down at him as she shakes her head] Non.. I won’t, Monsieur Clement. [Bites her lip as she never considered it but her body clearly wanted him in that moment] I won’t say anything.. [Leans down to kiss him softly]

Augustine: [Feels relieved as she kisses him] You didn’t like it? [Pouts] I’m willing to pay more. [Rubs the sides of her arms] Did I make you uncomfortable?

Emmeline: [Blushes at him, shaking her head before feeling that strange stir as she sees his pout] I.. I did like it, Monsieur.. [Speaks softly before gazes down at him as she strokes his jaw] Pay more to have me? All of me? [Tilts her head] Non, you don’t. I’ve never gone this far with a client.

Augustine: Oui. I’ll pay whatever the price is. [Stares up at her, feeling himself start to obsess over her] Bien. [Smiles as she reassures him] We can go up levels. I’ve read that you can do certain things with escorts in tiers.. would you be comfortable with that? [Bites his lip, thinking about tasting her]

Emmeline: [Parts her lips as she never expected a client to want to pay more for her. She considers it as she thinks of how it’ll help her more with her maman] I’ve heard of that too, Monsieur. [Thinks about asking Elias about it but feels worried that he’ll be upset] Hmm.. If we take it slow, Monsieur. [Blushes as she gets off his lap but keeps close to him] Would you still see other escorts?

Augustine: [Smiles softly as she considers it] Oui. I want to fuck. [Shrugs] My students keep trying to fuck me but I never liked the mess that brings. [Purses his lips]

Emmeline: [Raises a brow as she hears him, not wanting anyone to threaten her position with him or have competition] Porquoi? You have me, Monsieur. You don’t need another escort. [Stares at him heatedly as he speaks in such a crass manner, not at all how she expected him to be] I’m not surprised, Monsieur. [Places her hand between his legs, feeling his cock to sate her curiosity] Would you be willing to wait for me instead? [Tilts her head as she feels slightly jealous but also doesn’t want someone to take him]

Augustine: I don’t? [Raises his brows. He groans as she handles his member] Hm.. non. [Shakes his head] Why would I wait for something that I’m not sure will come? [Tilts his head] I know you’re not jealous, Emmeline. You don’t even like me. [Says in an expressionless manner] I’m still going to be paying to see you.

Emmeline: [Hears his words but doesn’t stop touching him. She rubs her palm over his cock, liking how it feels against her hand] I am jealous. [Bites the inside of her cheek as she gazes into his dark eyes] If you’re going to have other escorts, then why do you want me, Monsieur? [Nuzzles his neck, wanting to inhale his scent again]

Augustine: Because I enjoy your company. [Shrugs as she continues to tease him]

Emmeline: [Lays soft kisses on his jaw simply because she wants to] Think about it, Monsieur. S’il vous plaît.

Augustine: [Doesn’t want her to stop being sweet with him as he thinks over her words] I don’t want to stop seeing other escorts. [Tells her honestly] You simply tease me, Emmeline. [Frowns] Do you not see other clients? [Raises his brows] I want an exclusive sexual relationship. Until you give me that, I’ll do what I please. [Strokes the flesh of her thighs soothingly] Now can we eat? I’m famished. [Tilts his head]

Emmeline: [Stops kissing him as she pulls back to study his features and listen to his words. She exhales deeply as he denies her, making her worry that he’ll find another and replace her] An exclusive sexual relationship? Meaning you want to be the only one I have sex with? [Purses her lips in deep thought before feeling the heat of his touch] Oui, Monsieur, we may eat now. [Gets up and adjusts her dress before standing between his legs] One moment, Monsieur. I feel uncomfortable. [Reaches under her dress, slipping the thin fabric of her panties down her tanned legs as it’s still soaked from her wetness] Much better now. [Smiles coyly at him]

#v: professeur et étudiante #tension #c: laisse moi t’avoir

2 notes · View notes

kookiemydream · 5 years

Text

would I lie to you?

pairing: husband!jungkook x pregnant!reader

fandom: bts

warnings: none!

genre: general fluff!

word count: 1.4k +

summary: you has just found out you were pregnant and hid the test between two towels in the bathroom. it just so happened that jungkook needed those towels a few hours after.

a/n: here it is! the jungkook scenario i promised! please tell me what you think and also request a scenario of your own down below! enjoy!

request a scenario!

⇨

“I think I’m gonna be sick!” You announced, quickly ejected yourself from the warm embrace of your husband's arms. You ripped the duvet off of your warm body, letting the cold air of your bedroom shock you momentarily. Quickly, you raced to the bathroom at which you emptied your stomach - or what was left inside of it.

“Again?” Jungkook moaned before rushing to catch up with you, immediately pulling your hair away from your face when he saw your figure bent over the toilet. “Baby, this is the third time today. I think we should call the doctor” He gently suggested, stroking a stray strand that had escaped from his grip.

“No no, I’m fine honestly Kook. It’s probably just a virus or something.” You said, flushing your vomit away and turning around so that your head was leant against the seat, eyes closed to protect yourself from the exposure of the bathroom light. “I just need to rest that’s all.”.

Sighing, Jungkook got up and brought out a dry flannel. He ran it under the sink before wringing it out and pressing it to your forehead. You hummed in delight as the small towel cooled you down. Without hesitation, his strong arms lifted you up bridal style and took you towards the bedroom. Once he had settled you down, he placed a kiss on your forehead and pulled the covers over your body.

Little did he know, that that night you struggled to fall asleep. You knew exactly why you were throwing up, you had known since last week. You were pregnant. You had a human growing inside of you and more specifically, Jungkook’s human. Yes, you had been happily married for a few years now but you two had never had the ‘Kid Talk’. You were both still so young, people looked down on you two for getting married, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what the talks would be about then.

However, things were starting to get a little harder to hide.

The test that had decided your fate was shoved in between two towels in a cupboard under the bathroom sink. Not the best hiding place but it would have to do for now.

Drinking was obviously a no go, and would be much harder to stay away from considering that the boys always found something to celebrate. They always invited you to join Jungkook and the rest of the gang on their evening outings so if you refused a glass of wine, everyone will be suspicious, bearing in mind that you always drank when they had gone out. But you figured you would blame it on the “virus”, as you did with everything since you had found out.

You had every excuse figured out.

Nauseous of the takeout Jungkook had bought? Blame it on lack of appetite. Refusing to take long, warm baths? Blame it on your temperature and how it wouldn’t help it. You even vowed to quit wearing high heels for special events, planning to tell Jungkook that they were uncomfortable to be in, especially when you were standing all night long.

You had no idea what Jungkook’s take on kids actually were. He could walk out if he wanted to, saying that he wasn’t ready or that you two should’ve talked first. And granted, he was allowed to feel that way! You two were both so young!

You woke up with your throat still burning from the bodily acid the day before. The bright lights of the sunshine burst through your bedroom window, embracing everything that it touched inside the place. The faint hiss of the shower indicated that your husband was in use of it. You smirked at the thought of seeing your husband and his beautiful body in just a little-

Shit. The towels.

Hastily, you pulled the sheets aside and jogged over to the bathroom door, hoping to god that Jungkook didn’t lock it. As you turned the handle, the hiss stopped. You were too late. Going in there now would be too suspicious and would blow your cover anyway.

You decided that it was best just to go back to bed and wait it out there, with your eyes closed and hands clasped together. ‘Please god let him be okay. Please just let everything go to plan for once in our lifetime’ you prayed as you heard the creak of the door open and the footsteps draw nearer to your bedroom.

“Uh, Y/n?” Jungkook questioned as he entered the room, towel sitting on his waist threatening to fall. “Did Namjoon hyung’s girlfriend leave this here? We should return it, it seems personal.” He looks closer “Oh my god, and it’s positive! Y/n, we’re gonna be an aunt and uncle!” Quickly he grabbed your face and kissed you passionately before hugging you tightly.

So if he was THIS happy about his brothers baby, then surely he’d be happy about a baby of his own? You breathed a sigh of relief before pushing his chest back gently. “Jungkook, I have a confession to make.” Confused, Jungkook let his body sit next to you, rubbing your leg as he sensed how tense you were.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” he said, worry etched onto his face. You smiled lightly. You were incredibly lucky to have someone as precious as Jungkook to call your husband. He was everything you wished for and you thanked god everyday for blessing you. Taking his hand in yours, you started your explanation.

“Honey, that test isn’t hers. I-It’s mine. I was the one who took the test and hid it in the towels and I know I should’ve told you but I was just terrified of what your reaction would be and I j-just don’t know how we’re gonna d-do this!” Without even realising, you had started sobbing uncontrollably, still gripped onto Jungkook's hand as if it was your lifeline. He grabbed both your shoulders and buried your head into his chest.

There, he rocked for a few minutes, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. Although you felt better when his arms were wrapped around you, this situation was entirely different. His lack of a reaction made you even more anxious than before. When your sobs had turned into small sniffles, you felt Jungkook’s chest heave up and down quickly, almost like he was laughing?

You looked up to see him smiling down at you, but also with eyes brimmed with tears. Immediately, you forgot about your anxiety and quickly got up to wipe the tears away. He stopped you.

Gently taking your wrists before they could reach his face, Jungkook then lead them around his neck. “Y/n.” he said “Look at me.”

Your attention was mostly focused on the floor before he ordered you. In a matter of seconds, his lips were on yours. His hands roamed over your hips and you felt the weight him lean against you, so that your knees collided with the edge of your bed and you fell back.

For the second time, you pushed his chest back lightly, firstly to give yourself some air, but also to get some answers.

“So, a-are you happy?” You questioned, unsurely “Do you think we can do this?”

Jungkook smiled brightly “Baby, of course I’m happy, We’re gonna be parents! What is there NOT to be happy about?” Again, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You sighed. “Jungkook, I don’t think you realise, this is gonna be the most challenging task I think we’ll ever go through I mean, this is a child we’re talking about!”

“Our child.” he corrected, placing two hands on your shoulders and rubbing them with his thumbs. “Things will fall into place once we see him or her Y/n! Stop worrying so much, we’re gonna do just fine.”

Hesitatingly, you leant into his hand and kissed it softly “You promise?”

“Honey, would I ever lie to you?

⇨

request a scenario!

68 notes · View notes

collective-laugh · 5 years

Text

Detective AU - Muriel x MC Chapter 2

Ahhhh, here it is!

Chapter one here!

Taglist: @a-zoidberg-aesthetic @lesbiancountess @fartkittyonline @yaysam @y-all-dnt-ve @countgoatman-and-drleechboy @julians-chest-hair @softarcana @vesuviass @caterpiller-tea @zaemoultrie75901 @saltywerewolfrebel @obsessedwiththearcana @thatsaltyseaman @xburningwitch @i-dont-speak-wolf @missrabbitart

Chapter Two: The Countess of Vesuvia

Red isn’t such a bad color.

Muriel doesn’t know how to not start associating the color with her after she said that, and he can feel his skin heating like a furnace. He’d finished his coffee back when she’d claimed that everyone had a favorite color, and bullied him into telling her what his was, and was standing there, taking a drink from the mug every so often just so he wouldn’t have to go just yet.

He hated Asra for leaving her alone in this dumpy hole in the wall, and he hated him even more for asking him to watch over her while he left, like he was a sitter and she was some incompetent little child who needed him to wipe her ass.

“Red’s nice.” He compliments, bringing his mug back to his lips, in spite of the fact it was empty. He feels idiotic, but he didn’t know how to tell her that he finished his cup. Should he ask for more? She was still sipping on her first, but she was kind enough that he doubted she would even remotely judge him for wanting another cup of coffee so soon.

She smiles, crossing her legs at the knee and swirling her cup again, “So, um...Asra told me that the two of you grew up together.”

Before he can stop himself, he’s asking, “What else has he told you?”

A flicker of surprise passes her face, but she answers, “Oh...he told me that you two were raised together at, uh, St. Margaret’s, and...that you work at the Raven, and...oh, he, uh,” She smiles, “he told me the story about the time the two of you stole those cigarettes from the nun, um…” She snaps her fingers, trying to remember her name, “Sister, uh…”

“Lilin.” Muriel finishes, smiling fondly at the memory and hiding it behind the empty mug, pretending to take another drink.

She laughs and finishes it with a smile that just barely reaches her eyes, “Yes! Sister Lilin. The one with the ruler.”

“Asra was typically the one on the receiving end.” Muriel almost asks for another cup of coffee then, but she laughs at him - his joke? - and smiles into her still half full mug.

“I can definitely see that.” She must finally notice him standing there, holding the empty much-too-small-for-his-hand mug, “Do you want more?”

Yes, he did. “No.” And then, as an afterthought, “Thanks.” He mentally kicks himself. She takes the mug from him, her smile gradually diminishing as she went to put their mugs in the sink he knew was behind the tapestry, and wonders why he couldn’t just tell her that he wanted more coffee.

“So, how long have you been working at the Rowdy Raven, Muriel?” She calls from the back, and he can faintly hear the water running.

“About three years, now.”

She shuts the water off and continues, “I have a friend who frequents there. You might actually know him.”

It takes everything in Muriel’s being not to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “Dr. Devorak?”

Her head pops out from behind the tapestry, the rest of her following soon after, “I take it you don’t particularly like him, then?”

“I’ve had to throw him out more often than not.”

She laughs, loud and genuine, “He helped me a lot, after the accident.” She smiles solemnly, “You know about that, right?”

He knew the main gist of it. She’d been involved in a car accident, head trauma, something to do with her head. Asra came to him more often than not, crying about how hard it was staying with someone he loved when they didn’t love him.

Right.

Instead, he lies to keep the conversation flowing, and says, “No, not really.”

She looks a little hurt, like it hurts that Asra wouldn’t tell him about her, but she tells him, “I was involved in a car accident a couple years back, and I, um,” She laughs a little bit, “I forgot who I was, and Asra and Julian made sure I, you know, didn’t die. Asra was the only person who would take me in, and he taught me how to do...everything.”

He didn’t mean to steer the conversation to such a dark place, so he flounders for a moment, unsure of what he was supposed to do with his hands, “How’ve your cases been?”

He can vaguely hear a soft laugh. He knew things were bad, but he didn’t think they were that bad.

“They’ve run cold.” She says, standing at her desk and chuckling at her own joke, “No, we’re um...we’re not in the best spot right now.” She purses her lips, offering no further explanation.

Muriel doesn’t know what to say to that. He assumed that if things really had gotten that bad, Asra would’ve trusted him enough to tell him. Instead, he runs off and leaves her alone to deal with their misfortune. It was hard not to be angry at.

She clears her throat, “Do you dance, Muriel?”

His eyes widen reflexively, and then, for some reason, he’s blushing, “...I don’t know how.” Then, after a moment’s pause, “Do you?”

“A little.” He can’t tell if she’s just being humble or if she’s telling the truth, “I haven’t been for some time, though.”

He figures he might as well bite the bullet now, “Do you want to come with me to work tonight? They, uh...they dance there.”

She arches a brow, “Why?”

Asra asked me to, he thinks, and feels guilty for not telling her the truth. But, instead, he tells her, “So you can dance.”

“Only if you let me teach you?”

He agrees. Of course he does. Asra looked up at him with those stupid dog eyes that got him out of trouble back at the orphanage and asked him to take care of her, because her migraines had been getting worse and she was stressed, and he was scared she might not do so well alone.

Muriel thought he either ought to let her leave or not leave her alone for so long if he was really so worried about her, but it wasn’t his business.

She’s wearing a red dress, because of course. It’s a pencil dress with sleeves that wrapped around her shoulders, and managed to make herself look like a pinup rather than a tired detective in less than a half hour.

“How do I look?” She asks, a bright smile on her face, and it startles him how well she fakes looking happy.

He doesn’t have a chance to tell her how pretty she looks, as they’re cut off by feverish knocking. Regardless, he doubted he would honestly be brave enough to tell her, so he’s thankful for the distraction.

She looks confused, which is, again, enough of a reason to make him wonder how long they’ve been going out of business, and moves to open the door without second thought.

Whoever Muriel was expecting on the other side - Asra, the doctor, a customer, some lost, drunken vagabond - he definitely wasn’t expecting Nadia Satrinava.

Wife of the late Lucio “The Count” Morgason, socialite, and probably the scariest woman in Vesuvia, was standing in the doorframe, wrapped in a shawl, rubbing her gloved hands together.

Lucio himself had been a...mystery. A gangster, if the term ever applied to anyone, who had a knack for showmanship, and made deals with some of the most influential people in town to ensure he wouldn’t be caught by the police. And then, like the peacock he was, his legacy went up in flames like the Hotel Plaza he’d booked in for his birthday.

Police said it was murder. The people heaved a collective sigh of relief and were thankful that he was gone.

Muriel can’t see her face, but he assumes that she looks just as shell-shocked as he feels.

“How can I help you?” She asks, stepping in the doorframe. Muriel’s standing behind her in an instant, drawing a startled look from Nadia, though her attention remains on her.

She answers, clutching her hands together still, Prakran accent thick, “You must be Asra.”

Muriel watches as her shoulders slump, “I’m sorry. He’s away on business, but I’m his partner. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

The Countess, as she was so lovingly nicknamed by those who knew of her, “You...you’re a detective?”

“I…” She throws a look over her shoulder, surprised to see Muriel right behind her, “I am, though we’re not open at the moment.”

“Please.” The Countess insists, placing a hand on the doorframe, “It’s urgent.”

She looks over her shoulder again, wetting her lips, “I...um...I suppose that I could give a check on my plans for tonight?” She looks to Muriel for approval, and when he stands there like a bum, she invites the Countess to, “Please, come in.”

“I don’t suppose it’s necessary to apologize for intruding by now, but I want to anyway.” She pulls one glove off, finger by finger, “I won’t be long...and I…” She bundles the pair of gloves together, “I really am sorry for interrupting your evening out, detective. But I fear for the safety of the city.”

She exchanges a glance with Muriel, and then tells the Countess, “Please, take a seat and if you would excuse us for just one moment…”

“Of course.”

She beckons Muriel to follow her into the back room, where she lowers her voice, “I am so, so sorry about this, but this is the first potential client we’ve had in weeks. I can meet you at the Raven whenever we finish this, or we, um...we can take a raincheck on it?”

“We can wait.” He checks his wristwatch, “I’ve still got a half hour before my shift starts…” He pauses, waiting for her to understand that she had time to finish her business, “...I, ah, I still owe you that dance, anyway.”

She smiles, looking more genuine than she had all night, and rests a hand on his forearm, “I’ll wrap this up as soon as possible, then we can get outta here.” Then, she tacks on, “Thanks, Muriel.” She’s back in the front room before he has a chance to say ‘you’re welcome’.

They’re already talking when Muriel steps back into the front room, arms crossed over his chest. The Countess explains, “I have reason to suspect that my husband was murdered, of course, considering. I’ve turned everywhere else, and no one cares enough to find the killer, no matter how insufferable of a man he was.” She rubs her forehead, “Or, supposedly. I was involved in an accident shortly after his murder, you see. I don’t remember my time in Vesuvia.”

She furrows her brow, scribbling notes on a pad, “Do you think this accident might have been correlated to your husband’s murder?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Nadia’s eyes shift from Muriel to her, “I’m going to leave you my address. I’ve intruded long enough. Please, detective, visit me tomorrow, and I...I might be more clear-headed then.”

“One last question, Miss Satrinava.” Nadia certainly looks pleased at that, and scribbles an address on a scrap of paper as she continues, “Why do you suspect that your husband was murdered?”

Nadia halts in her writing for just a moment, “Well, from what I’ve heard...he was certainly a man with many enemies, and the police never released to cause of the fire...I suppose it makes sense.”

She holds her hand out to shake Nadia’s, “I look forward to meeting with you tomorrow, Miss Satrinava.”

“Likewise, detective.”

#arcana #the arcana #the arcana game #detective au #detective au muriel #chapter 2 #muriel chapter 2 #detective #swearing #tw swearing #muriel x mc #muriel x apprentice #muriel x female apprentice #slowburn #guys we made it chapter two!!#its all downhill from here

120 notes · View notes

thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years

Text

Bad Blood - Chapter 14

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

_____________________________

They have a case of mutual dissatisfaction, Peter thinks, watching as John Stilinski leaves the clinic to head into the Preserve to where a couple of his deputies are waiting with Scott McCall’s body. John isn’t happy with the way things panned out at the clinic, and neither is Peter. John would prefer to have his son safe and sound. Peter would prefer to have John’s son safely locked in a cage. They are mutually dissatisfied, but they are both men used to dissatisfaction. They’ve lived a long time in the world.

Derek and Laura haven’t.

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Derek asks with an unhappy growl as Peter wanders back inside the clinic. “Let him kill the sheriff?”

“We were supposed to not let him go back to the Argents!” Laura exclaims.

Derek glowers. “That’s not fair!”

Laura glares back at him. “Derek, you told him how to walk out of here!”

“Now, now,” Peter says. “The boy has legs and a brain, Laura. He would have got there himself in a minute. What Derek did was de-escalate some of his anger. Was it an ideal outcome? Of course not, but it’d be a lot less ideal if we had a dead sheriff to explain.”

Derek throws him a grateful look.

Laura’s only frustrated, Peter knows, but Derek is overly sensitive to criticism. One growl from his alpha and the boy is consumed with guilt for both having let her down and for being the reason it’s her job to snap at him in the first place.

“Our position is exactly what it was earlier tonight,” Peter says. “And so is our strategy. We target the Argents before they target us again.”

He thinks of poor Scott, sixteen years old and dying in the woods.

“Except that’s not true, Peter,” Laura says. “Is it? Because we know why the sheriff won’t move against the Argents, don’t we?”

“We target all the Argents,” Peter says, “except Stiles. And this is exactly where we were before tonight. We can just see it clearly for the first time.”

Laura raises her eyebrows. “So we can’t target Stiles, but meanwhile he’s targeting us.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a shitty position,” Peter tells her. “Shitty is kind of our default after all.”

“Yeah,” Laura says, and exhales slowly. “It really is.”

Peter knocks Derek’s shoulder with his own. “Okay, kids, let’s go home and regroup.”

He nods to Deaton as they leave.

***

Peter doesn’t sleep. He sits downstairs in the loft, eating leftover cheesecake and watching reruns of The Golden Girls, because why not? Meanwhile, his brain ticks over in the back of his skull. Ideally he wants to get all the Argents in one place at one time—no muss, no fuss—but the Argents aren’t docile cows to be herded wherever the butcher wants. Kill one, and the rest will come gunning. And, Peter knows, they never work alone. There will be other hunters working with them. Paid no-name auxiliaries. They don’t have the Argents’ fanaticism, but they do have the weapons and the training. Peter wonders if there’s any way to find out just how many hunters the Argents can call on, who’ll come running to join the fight. What a nice thing it must be to have soldiers. Peter could use a battalion or two himself, honestly.

He reaches for the remote control when he hears Derek treading down the steps, and mutes The Golden Girls.

Derek sits down on the couch next to him.

“Okay, pup?” Peter asks him.

Derek makes a sound that’s impossible to parse. Then he draws a breath. “I don’t know why I stopped you from killing him.”

“I’m glad you did,” Peter says. “John Stilinski might make a valuable ally.”

“Might?”

“Well, given Stiles is back with the Argents, he’s unlikely to want to go in with guns blazing, but I’m still counting it as an advantage,” Peter says. He shoves the cheesecake in Derek’s direction. “Did you stop me because he smelled of fear?”

“No. It wasn’t that.” Derek’s brows tug together. “I think I stopped you because on the night of the party he smelled like happiness. Not in the same way that Kate did. Not like he was smug or satisfied. It was different than that. It was brighter, somehow. I don’t think he knew who I was.”

Peter remembers what Stiles said in the warehouse when he thought he was bleeding out: “I wish I didn’t have to hate you.”

“No,” he agrees softly. “I don’t think he knew either.”

“I should have followed him,” Derek says. “After he let the sheriff go, I should have followed him and grabbed him back.”

Peter allowed himself a slight smile at that. “He’s a zealot, Derek. Do you think he would have come without a fight?”

“I could have beaten him in a fight.”

“And do you think he’d stop fighting at any point?” Peter asks frankly. “The Romans had a saying, you know. Auribus teneo lupum. It means ‘I hold a wolf by the ears’. And in this metaphor, Stiles is the wolf, not you. Holding him might have proven even more dangerous than letting him run.”

Derek’s brow creases. “Do you really believe that?”

Peter doesn’t answer.

At this point he has no idea what he believes anymore.

***

It’s dawn by the time John Stilinski gets back from his crime scene in the woods. He looks surprised to find Peter in his kitchen fiddling with his coffee machine, but he does him the courtesy of not shooting him on the spot. Peter appreciates that.

“Thanks,” John says in a rough voice when Peter hands him a coffee. He takes a sip. “So this is us now, huh? Last night you try to slit my son’s throat, and now we’re coffee buddies?”

Peter leans back against the sink. “Last night your son helped kill Scott McCall. You can’t tell me you expect me to apologise for intending to kill him.”

John grunts, but his eyes are narrowed.

“I can’t treat every hunter like he’s a brainwashed victim,” Peter continues. “Stiles is the outlier here, and you know it. You know it better than most, actually. You were never brainwashed, were you?”

“He’s a kid,” John says, avoiding the question. “He’s sixteen years old.”

Peter raises his brows. “So was Scott McCall.”

John flinches a little at that. “You saw Stiles kill him?”

“No,” Peter admits. “And the gun I took off him still had all its bullets, apart from the one Laura needed to burn out the wolfsbane in her wound. But he was there, John, and he was on a hunt. What does it matter who fired the shots?”

“Don’t…” John draws a hand over his eyes. “Don’t hurt him again, please.”

“I don’t intend to,” Peter says. “Not anymore.”

John holds his gaze.

Peter lifts his chin. “Do you think you can get him back? Not just from the Argents, I mean. Do you think you can undo what they’ve done?”

“I don’t know,” John says. He looks tired. Not defeated, not yet, but tired as hell.

“You got yourself out,” Peter says, throwing him a lifeline.

John snorts, and his mouth quirks in a quick, bitter smile. “No,” he says. “Claudia got me out.”

Peter tilts his head. “Your wife?”

“Before she was my wife, she was Claudia Gajos.”

Peter’s jaw drops.

“They’re a relatively small pack,” John says, his voice softening. “They’re from just outside Kielce, in Poland, but they’ve been there since at least the thirteenth century. There was a report of some deaths, that turned out to be unrelated to the Gajos pack. Chris Argent and I were sent in to investigate. That’s when I met Claudia. She was human, but her parents were werewolves.” He swallows. “Bad enough I fell in love with someone like Claudia, but to have a child with her? Can you imagine how the council would have reacted if Janusz Stilinski’s son had been born a werewolf?”

“Jesus,” Peter murmurs.

“So we left,” John says. “Before Stiles was born. We both cut all ties with our families, and we left.” He sets his cup down on the table. “I did things as a hunter that I regret. I can only tell you that I thought, at the time, they were right. I did what I was ordered to do.”

“Huh,” Peter says, narrowing his eyes. “Where have I heard that before?”

“It’s an explanation,” John says. “Not an excuse. I didn’t question a damned thing until I met Claudia.”

“You and Chris Argent killed innocent werewolves,” Peter says flatly.

“Yes.” A shadow passes over John’s face. “But we didn’t know it at the time. Hell, Chris probably doesn’t know it now. Twenty years ago if you’d told me there was such a thing as an innocent werewolf, I would have laughed in your face. We went where the council told us, and did what they said needed to be done.” He holds Peter’s gaze. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Peter, but I’m trying to make up for them.”

His heartbeat is steady.

Peter thinks of the fire. Thinks of the look on John Stilinski’s face as he broke the line of mountain ash and allowed Peter and Matty to escape. Thinks of what it cost John Stilinski to save them.

“I’m the left hand of the Hale pack,” he says at last. “I know what it means to not be the good guy.”

A moment of understanding passes between them. They are more alike than they are different, Peter thinks. In a war, nobody is clean.

“We’re going to take down the Argents,” Peter says.

“If you do that, others will come.”

“Deaton thinks Araya Calavera will stop that from happening.”

John’s mouth turns down at the corners. “That’s a hell of a gamble.”

“If we do nothing, we’re dead anyway.”

John is still for a moment, and then he nods. “Point taken. And where does my son fit in with your plans to kill the Argents?”

“Your son,” Peter says pointedly, “is not an Argent.”

John’s mouth quirks, and Peter sees a gleam in his eye that feels new. John Stilinski might be the sheriff now, but he’s still a hunter at heart. A decade and a half of community policing, budget meetings, and Say No To Drugs, Kids haven’t entirely killed that spark. And now it flares into life again.

“You won’t get to Gerard and Kate,” John says. “Not without help.”

“And here you are, offering it.” Peter folds his arms over his chest.

“No.” John shakes his head. “You need more than me for this, Peter.”

“Who do I need?” Peter asks warily.

John shrugs. “You need an inside man.”

Peter blinks. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

John raises his eyebrows. “We were the best.”

“You’re fucking crazy if you think he’ll help us.”

“You said it yourself,” John says. “You’re dead anyway. What have you got to lose?”

“Hmm.” Peter snorts. “My last remaining thread of sanity?”

“Oh, you don’t need sanity where we’re going.” The gleam in his eye is back.

And Peter, more in surprise than anything else, laughs.

John Stilinski is a crazy person.

At least he’s on Peter’s side.

#my fics #bad blood #sterek #steter senior #discontentedwinter

25 notes · View notes

fadingcoast · 5 years

Text

Death Of The Lie || Chapter 17: Asgard

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

Chapter 17: Asgard

Dearest Sigyn:

It is with great woe that I inform you that I have cut my hair. I imagine Gwyn will not be pleased with this, but I could never care for it as she did. And believe me, I tried. If I know you at all, right now you’re rolling your eyes wondering if my father had anything to do with my decision. I believe you know the answer to that, as he has been pestering me from day one to do this. I didn’t want to give in just yet, but even with the help of my magic, all I made of it was a mess. In this weather, though, it's probably for the best. It was getting a bit hot to maintain.

I have been in Asgard for so little time, but it already feels like decades. I want nothing more than to go back to Alfheim. To see you, to immerse in the Alfar world again. I miss the rivers, the lakes, the mountains… I imagine the berry fields must be ready for harvesting. It makes me sad not to be there to taste the first fruits. The castle is too quiet at night without a river nearby and at times I find it difficult to sleep. I had to conjure a fake one in my balcony just to get some rest.

Thor has become nearly unbearable in my absence. I had noticed his mannerisms becoming closer to Odin’s in the past, but without any opposing influence my brother has gone full brute. He talks often of the realms he wishes to keep under tighter control once he is king. Mother ensures that his rants don't go too far, but he treats her word more as a suggestion than wisdom. I fear he may one day become a victim of his own hubris, and the kingdom with him. I've not a clue what Lady Sif still sees in him but they are unbearably inseparable.

The news of our engagement is still quiet, as mother has not tested the waters of my father's approval yet. Odin appears to be somewhat relieved to have me back where he can see me and has kept his scorn to a reasonable level so long as I keep my nose clean. I suspect if he is not told soon he will either marry me off to a daughter of some random Aesir nobility and have us live in the castle or have me groomed to be the King's right hand when Thor takes the throne. It is with no exaggeration that I admit I would rather fling myself off the rainbow bridge than to do either, so I think I will have to tell him before long.

I hope to hear from you soon, as I know you are finishing up your last term at the Sanctum and I know you're terribly busy.

-L

Dear Loki:

I don't have to tell you how beautiful the land looks right now, how thick the air is with the sweet fragrance of ripened fruits and honeysuckle. This land is in your blood, and you would sooner forget to breathe than to not think about it. I hardly get to see it these days but I like to go to your old room and sit in the bay window to study. At times I will fall asleep there and I will awake with a start, thinking it's you tapping on my shoulder, but it's Gwyn. Soon I will take my final exams, just a few years out. I don't know how you did it.

You don’t want to know what Gwyn’s reaction was when I broke the news about your hair to her. You’d think the world was ending. Honestly, as good as it looked, I’m surprised you didn’t do it sooner, it must have been so heavy.

I hope the selection of fruits and ale I sent with this letter are to your liking, and that they didn’t end up on your head. I think I will need a sketch or drawing of your room to get familiar with it and pinpoint my teleporting spells, as I am not as familiar with it as you are with my chambers. This will make our exchanges happen a lot faster and no one else can read what we write. It will also help me practice my teleportation techniques.

Maybe one day before long I can visit Asgard, with the King and Queen's permission, of course, after our engagement is known.

-S

The steady exchange of letters Loki kept with Sigyn was full of funny anecdotes and jokes, and it kept him from losing his mind most days. Lucky for both of them, they had perfected a tracking system so they could teleport letters, portraits and presents back and forth, bypassing the regular system. It helped time pass and it kept Loki’s sense of humor intact on days where all he wanted was to escape royal life.

It wasn’t odd for Loki to wake up to a room full of blackberry infused ale, or daffodils in blossom, and some other seasonal foods. It was quite the feat to explain to Frigga why he had so many turnips in his room before he sent them all to the kitchens. But the Queen knew to keep his secret and would help her son ensure gifts from Sigyn ended up where they needed to go, though Loki did prefer to keep the ale for himself.

The letters were also full of less pleasant things. Loki’s nightmares had made a comeback, and they were getting worse. Visions of him in an icy tomb, surrounded by bright blue cold light, where the most frequent. Other times he would be surrounded by darkness, no wind, no sound, lifeless. Sometimes he could even swear there was something calling to him in the dark, but he would jolt awake, covered in frost, before he could figure it out. He spent most of his free time in the library, trying to find an explanation, but most of what he found presented more questions than answers and made no sense.

Loki could not tell this to anyone. Thor wouldn’t care, Frigga wouldn’t be able to help him and Odin would probably berate him for not controlling his powers. As if I could control them while asleep. Sigyn was the only person who he knew could trust with this, and though she was too far away to really help him, she still sent him medicinal herbs, sleeping potions (dreamless sleep was better than no sleep, after all) and comfort food he would not find in Asgard. In addition, she would also send copies of manuscripts she thought could help him.

During the day, Loki fell into a routine, keeping his mind busy to keep out of his own head and fill the endless hours of the day. He was obliged to attend certain diplomatic meetings but only as an observer and only to learn more about running the kingdom. Forced to wear his ceremonial uniform - horns and all - Loki loathed them, but was still far more observant of visiting ambassadors than he let on. It was him who picked up on it each time one would try to lie or trick the Allfather, and after some time Odin wanted to use his skill at every meeting. It was a thankless job, but Loki knew he had to make himself indispensable to gain the Allfather’s trust, so he performed his duty with a sort of reluctant sense of responsibility. For the first time in almost his entire life, Odin stopped insulting him at every opportunity, and replaced his mistrust with indifference. Loki was no longer followed by Odin’s blasted ravens, or by the Einherjar, everywhere he went.

Even while being used, Loki found a measure of freedom in Asgard at last.

My Queen:

It’s been decades and I still can’t get used to being here.

I’ve been made very aware in more than one occasion that this is a world built for warriors, and I am not one of them. Thor has tried to include me in his tiny clique, but he insists on mocking my powers, unless he can make use of them.

“Some do battle, while others do tricks,” he says - but he’s perfectly happy with my “tricks” saving him, and then taking all the credit when an incursion goes well. In any case, is not like Odin would congratulate me, as he dislikes me using my magic when I‘m supposed to be using weapons and considers sorcery to be the cheater’s way. Nothing ever satisfies his impossible standards.

I must admit that I’ve used magic for more than saving my brother’s behind, though.

Fandral has gotten no more amenable, and wastes no opportunity to make crude remarks about my magic and my shapeshifting. This of course only happens whenever Thor isn’t around, the spineless worm. But I finally got my revenge.

In a recent trip, I suggested I used my female form, as the ruler of said realm was a fierce woman who wanted nothing to do with negotiations as long as Odin or Thor were conducting them. I thought, very accurately, she would be more lenient if a woman was the representative. To everyone’s surprise, except mine, it worked, and now interrealm relations are advancing.

That evening, in the revels of it, Fandral once again tried to make advances on me. This time, I was prepared. I had been working on a little something for some time, and it was the perfect opportunity to lace his drink with a very special concoction.

He spent the next two full days as a pig! His tiny brain managed to keep him safe from the slaughterhouse. Once the effect wore off, he tried to blame me for it, but he had no proof. Besides, it’s not the first time he has gone missing for a couple of days. Most believe his excuses just got out of hand.

I must say, potion making isn’t fun and it will probably never be my strong point, but the results are very satisfactory. Hopefully the goateed swine has learned at least a small lesson about underestimating me.

I believe the time has almost come for my father to be informed of our engagement, though if and when it happens it won’t likely be made public knowledge until after Thor’s coronation, which is at least another half century or more away. But it will stop Odin from discussing my possible marital prospects involving Aesir nobility for the foreseeable future. I will tell you as soon as I am able to do it.

-L

PS: Please, tell Gwyn her blackberry pie was delicious, and that without her here to tell me not to eat it in one sitting, I ate it in one sitting.

My King:

Gwyn is both very pleased and very cross with your message. I could still hear her muttering about your sweet tooth and lack of self control well into dinner time.

I kind of want to feel sorry for Fandral, or at least tell you to make productive use of what you’ve learned. But I’m not going to, cause I am imagining a pig with a blond goatee, and I wish you could have kept some register of it.

As for our engagement, I have no better news than you.

My cousin, Princess Frikka of Vanaheim, has announced her betrothal and upcoming wedding. Every and all announcements will be on hold until after she weds and the new future king is presented. Her fiancé comes from one of the oldest houses on the realm and has been around the royal family probably since he was born. Surprisingly enough, they chose each other, which leads me to believe he must have some integrity and intelligence in him. Frikka is smart and strong willed, she wouldn’t suffer a fool.

I am guessing that for a ceremony of this magnitude and significance, Asgard will be sending Thor in Odin’s behalf. If you want me to, I can brew something to turn him into a goat.

-S

Sigyn:

In an unsuspected turn of events, my father has decided I’m the one to represent Asgard in Princess Frikka’s upcoming wedding. Thor, as usual, wants nothing to do with diplomatic visits or ceremonial commitments, and my father is once again incapable of putting his foot down with him.

I do regret that you will miss the chance to turn Thor into a goat. But there’s always more ceremonies and weddings, including our own, where you can try that out.

I look forward to see you in Vanaheim next fortnight. The prospect of you being there and seeing you again is the only thing that will keep me sane.

-L

The week leading to the event, Loki found himself excited by the thought of reuniting with Sigyn, and wanted to do something special for her. For this, he enlisted his mother’s help, as he had no clue of where to get the gift he had in mind.

Loki had discussed their unofficial engagement with his mother several times in length, and while he knew the Queen had indeed informed Odin, it was rather odd that the Allfather hadn’t talked to him about it in person.

Loki wanted to question this decision, maybe even talk to his father himself. Odin had always been very adamant in controlling everything in his life. Why all of a sudden did he seem to not care about it? Or maybe he was looking for a reason to forbid Loki from marrying Sigyn, thus stopping him from leaving Asgard for good? Loki wouldn’t put it past Odin to do such a thing. It wasn’t until much later that the reason behind Odin’s silence became clearer.

As much as they tried to hide it, Odin’s dwindling health was a well-known secret. The whispers and rumors had not gone unnoticed by Loki. This only meant the palace would be making arrangements sooner than planned to proclaim Thor as King. Loki couldn’t help but feel bitter about it: as usual, he was being pushed aside for his brother to shine.

Yet, he had no time to dwell on it. Diplomatic trips weren’t something Asgard took lightly, least of all now, when such an important ceremony was involved. Loki had to get a proper outfit, take time to study and relearn some of Vanaheim ceremonial etiquette, and find Sigyn her gift.

When the day came, Loki found himself rather excited by the prospect of spending a few days away from Asgard. He told himself the butterflies in his stomach were from the responsibility invested on him to represent Asgard and the Nine Realms. They had nothing to do with seeing Sigyn again, of course not. Still, there was a little skip in his step when he and Frigga made way to the Bifrost chamber.

As in all the realms, Vanaheim had a special landing site for the Bifrost. It was very similar to the Alfheim one, except the stones that made the circle were blue. A wide stone road led out to the capitol, while other smaller dirt pathways led out to several shrines. Loki knew these were teleporting spots, portals that connected Vanaheim to other realms besides Asgard. Loki made way to the white Alfheim shrine to wait for Sigyn. His fingers traced the white stone, covered in familiar leaf patterns, and smiled to himself. His nostalgia was interrupted by a bright silver flash coming from the inside of the shrine.

Loki straightened himself and stood by the door and waited for Sigyn to come out. And what a vision she was. Her linen and silk dress was several shades of green, with golden leaves embroidered on the fabric that shimmered in the midday sun, making it look as if the light was going through the foliage of a tree. The golden and white sash on her waist was modeled after branches, and matched the design of the tiara on her head. Blue, red and yellow jewels embedded in the metal resembled little flowers.

Rendered temporarily speechless, Loki shook his head. In an attempt to get rid of the awkward atmosphere, he bowed theatrically, taking Sigyn’s hand and kissing it.

“Your majesty.” Loki chuckled.

“Your highness.” Sigyn bowed as well, trying to stifle a laugh. “What’s with the antlers?”

“Har-har,” Loki said, unamused. “Ceremonial regalia. It’s supposed to be intimidating, I think. I plan to get rid of it as soon as I’m allowed.” Sigyn’s face was red, and her lips pressed in a tight line as she tried not to giggle. “Laugh now, get it out of your system unless you want to enter the Realm looking like a strawberry,” he teased, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry!!” She broke down in hysterics, holding Loki’s arm to steady herself. “I’m sorry…” Finally she took a deep breath. “I’m fine now.” Loki stared blankly at her, and Sigyn broke down laughing again, unsuccessfully apologizing.

Loki shook his head a took a deep breath, smiling despite of himself while he waited for Sigyn to stop. She had tears in her eyes when the fit finally subsided.

“Okay, I am fine now. We can go.” Sigyn smiled at him.

He smiled back offering his arm for her to grab it. “You look beautiful.”

Loki and Sigyn were led into a carriage that transported them to the castle. Conversation was light and amenable, and Loki felt like he was floating on air sitting next to Sigyn again, becoming aware every few minutes that she had grown in his absence and blushing at this observation. Sigyn gently placed her hand over his as they approached the castle, openly gaping at the sight of the carved crystal palace.

Clearly Asgard doesn’t have the monopoly on gaudy castles, Loki mused, both amused and impressed at the Vanir capitol. The entire entryway was a giant blue crystal that thrust toward the sky like a beacon, its edges perfect and straight. At the tip of the crystal was a smaller but no less impressive crystal that Loki assumed was a massive diamond, by the way it refracted the natural sunlight into sparkling rainbows everywhere the light touched. Even the stone pathway leading to the castle glittered with every shift of the light.

“Look at it,” Sigyn breathed, her free hand resting on her chest in awe. “I haven’t been here since I was a child and the beauty of the castle still arrests me.”

The carriage stopped in front of the castle door and a servant assisted both of them out onto the front steps, bowing low and gesturing widely toward the open door to invite them in. Loki offered his arm to Sigyn and she gracefully placed her hand on his forearm, giving it a reassuring stroke with her thumb.

Already the front part of the castle was full to capacity with guests from other realms. Loki recognized a few members of nobility from Alfheim and Asgard and cringed inwardly. He was expected to play the part of the royal representative but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. Politely greeting people along the way as they bowed their heads to him, Loki led Sigyn through the throng and past the crystal door frame and heavy white amethyst doors leading into the throne room.

Loki had learned in his studies that Asgard was unique in its showcasing of ceremonial events, so he knew that no one would see the newlyweds until after their vows, since the Vanir preferred privacy for their weddings. The party would take place later. There were only a few people in the throne room aside from himself and Sigyn, and he could hear muffled voices in an adjoining room, where he assumed the happy couple were tying the knot right then.

The throne room itself was just as grand as the rest of the castle they had seen so far, nearly every surface all gleaming crystal and perfect edges. It was almost disorienting to the eye, the stark contrast between the sharp lines of the room and the organic curves of the people in it. The ceiling sloped up into a point and the blue crystal caused the room to be bathed in blue light that made one feel as though the room was underwater. Perched atop a white crystal dais, the throne itself was carved from several slabs of gold-laced white quartz. It was the only cushioned surface in the room, as the King likely spent a fair amount of time sitting on it. While beautiful, it was a kind of cold beauty that Loki found rather abrasive compared to the lush and green lands he had grown up in.

Sigyn’s hand squeezed Loki’s arm and he turned to see her practically jumping up and down with excitement after seeing someone. She looked up at Loki with a smile before bounding off to greet a woman Loki recognized as her mother’s sister. He had met her a few times during his stay in Alfheim and knew she and Sigyn had a close bond.

Excited chatter began to filter from the ceremonial chambers and Loki supposed it was nearly time for the couple to make their entrance. As if on cue, more and more guests came from the foyer to mingle, and Loki suddenly felt as though the air was getting thicker by the second. Whether it was the dense group of people, or the flickering blue light that filled the room as the sun raised higher in the sky and which reminded him of his dreams, he could feel a chill brewing in his chest and he had to get out of there quickly before he made a scene.

As subtly as he could, Loki slipped through the crowd as the new Vanir Prince and Princess emerged amidst loud cheering from the ceremonial chambers, followed by the King and Queen and a High Priestess. His fingertips tingled with cold and he gasped for breath when he finally found a second door that led out to a balcony overlooking the castle gardens. Quietly he approached the railing and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the river below. Surely no one would notice him gone, even with the conspicuous absence of the ridiculous horns he had to wear.

Loki leaned on the railing and willed his breathing to slow and tried to ignore the clamor of voices insides. His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt a hand grasping his. Standing there patiently, her hair and skirt blowing gently in the breeze, was Sigyn, her soft brown eyes full of concern. She stroked his hand with her thumb and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you okay?” Sigyn meant it sincerely, and took his other hand in hers. “Want me to go back in with you?”

Loki considered this for a moment, and shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured. “Just stay here with me.”

Sigyn returned his smile and leaned against his shoulder, still holding his hands. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and Loki could sense his tension evaporating more as he moved his hands to pull her closer. Warmed by the sun, Sigyn’s hair smelled like roses, and the scent reminded him of all the time they spent together in Alfheim, the bond they shared, and the future he hoped to share with her.

“I nearly forgot,” Loki mumbled, freeing one hand to dig in his leather pockets. “I have something for you.” Finally he found it, and pulled it out for Sigyn to see. A quiet gasp was all Sigyn could muster when she saw the thin but elegant gold ring, the design made of intricate knots interwoven with branches and leaves.

“I promised you a real engagement ring, remember?”

Sigyn nodded wordlessly, her mouth still hanging open, eyes misting over. She held up her left hand and Loki was touched to see the original ring he had given her, a gold band from one of his braids that was covered in scuffs and scratches. He replaced it with the new ring, which fit perfectly and would last longer, and Sigyn grinned wide and stood up on her toes to press her lips to his. The sudden kiss surprised Loki but he held her like that for a few extra seconds before she took a step back to admire the ring.

Her smile vanished, however, when she looked past Loki toward the door.

“Erik.”

<< Chapter 16 – Chapter 18 >>

@igotloki @xalgaliareptx @christy-winchester @silverhart93 @claiming-loyalty-to-loki @honeybournehippy @unseelie1963 @mischievousbellerina @manager-of-mischief @angryowlet @thelittlestlittlecutiepie

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki helason #loki laufeyson #Odin's A+ parenting #DOTL #Death Of The Lie

25 notes · View notes

richiefuckfacetozier · 6 years

Text

Alone

Story: Dearly Departed

Character: Eddie Kaspbrak

Located on Archive of our own

My Master List

Eddie opened the gate to the cemetery and slowly made his way down the path. He took his time to look at the tombstones, not feeling rushed just a little jittery. Each grave was in a different state of deterioration. Some were so old the names could no longer be read. Others were fresh and newly put in. Both gave him the creeps no matter how many times he came here.

He arrived at the grave he was visiting and stared at it with a feeling of dread. Not for the grave itself, he had this tombstone memorized. If he could draw, he would be able to color and shade it in its entirety with ease. He could outline every weathered crack in the stone. He took good care of it now, but it went five years without being visited and suffered the harsh Maine rain, snow, and sleet.

He felt dread because he was going to have a big talk today. His stomach was churning horribly. Partially because he knew it was foolish to get anxious when he was speaking to a grave but also because the subject matter was not an easy one.

He kneeled down in the grass to rearrange the flowers, so they looked more presentable. The church must have left them at some point. He glanced at the carefully carved name ‘Frank Kaspbrak’ then let his eyes drift across the quote below: ‘To die will be an awfully big adventure.’

He sat down, brought his knees to his chest, took a deep breath and said, “Hi Dad. Sorry I haven’t been to visit lately.“ He rocked back and forth a little subconsciously.

"There’s really no excuse besides not making the time. Or maybe I’ve been avoiding coming by because of what I’m struggling with. I have something important to tell you. Except I’m really scared to admit it aloud.” He began picking at the grass for something to do with his hands.

“I’ve tried so hard not to feel this way. Forcing feelings for others I don’t really have. Avoiding the subject with my friends. I am pretty alone here, daddy.” His voice sounded small and scared like he was 10 years old again. That’s when he came to the cemetery at his old church to visit for the first time.

It was around then that people started implying he wasn’t manly enough and lacking a father was the reason. This convinced Eddie to try visiting the grave and imagining conversations he would have with his father. They turned real after he got beat up and just needed to rant about it to someone who wasn’t a friend or his mother. He always left feeling a lot better when he spoke to him. Although, today he might end up leaving upset.

“I know how our church feels about people like who I think…who I know I am. They aren’t very kind on the subject. Which is honestly bullshit because I am not doing anything wrong. I just don’t like who I am supposed to like. Who am I harming?” He said the last sentence at the church in the background. Glaring at it, waiting for an explanation he would never receive.

Then he focused back on the grave, “Our church says I can’t go to heaven if these feelings don’t go away. If that’s true and that’s where you are then I want to keep fighting against them. Because there is no one in this world or gone from this world that I want to see again more than you. The thought that I wouldn’t be able to sometimes consumes me to the point of panic attacks. It’s just…not fair.” Now he was really sounding childish. He tried to compose himself but decided there was really no point. No one else was around. It was just him and his father.

He ran both his hands through his hair frustratedly, “Ma isn’t going to take it well. You know that as well as I do. There is nothing I can do about that. She treats me like a child when I am 14 years old. In 4 years I’ll be a man! She means well and I know you hate it when I talk badly about her, but she is so exhausting dad. She tries to protect me too much, controlling me, keeping me away from my friends…oh god. My friends. They might be alright with it. I really have no idea. I love each of them so much…”

Eddie couldn’t help himself from wanting to talk about them. To talk about anything other than why he came to the grave today. “…They all make me laugh so hard and are incredible. Ben with his powerful loyalty. Mike with his strong and steady presence. Bill, he’s been my friend the longest as you know, I could write a book about how much he means to me even though he is more a writer than me. Stanley keeps me sane through every crazy or horrible thing I go through. Beverly is a breath of fresh air and probably the only girl I love as much as Ma. Then there is Richie. You’ve heard plenty of times when he drives me absolutely batshit. But I love him. He knows me better than I know myself. He loves me more than I could ever love myself, too. I haven’t told him this big part of me because I am terrified of losing him. Of losing all of them. And I know they are going to see me as changed because I have changed. I’m just hoping in a good way.”

Eddie paused and listened to some birds chattering. The air was still, yet cold. It gave him goosebumps. “We don’t talk about these sorts of things. No one in this town talks about it, so how am I supposed to even really know. Right? But I do know.”

“I’m worried you won’t love me anymore. I don’t know why I’m worried about the love of someone who has left us, but I am. Your opinion has always been important to me.”

Eddie took a huge breath and let it out slowly. “You’ve probably figured it out by now. I am gay.” Everything was still then a random gust of wind blew and Eddie felt engulfed by the sensation of being cold but his heart was warm. It was as if someone had hugged him. Not a physical hug, but one around his very soul. He stood up slowly, brought his hand to his mouth kissing it then brushed that hand over his father’s name.

“Thanks, dad. I love you.”

Leave me a comment! And if you have a suggestion for something Eddie should talk about with his father, let me know. I want to make this a mini story.

@sam-i-am2468 @ohheydatsme @missingstanleyuris @jaederp @loser-marsh @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @reddieaddict @richieskata @slashpalooza @reddie-brasil

#losersweek #eddie kaspbrak #frank kaspbrak #the losers club #it #it 2017 #it fanfiction #sonia kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #stanley uris #i am a loser #Dearly Departed #Shannon writes

103 notes · View notes

lazyamara · 7 years

Text

Honestly this is just super sweet fluffy moments between Tony and Bucky… Again. @polizwrites I hope you like it! I’m also going to tag @daeshikoba because you’re so kind and tag me in the your child is precious posts! <3

The first time they kiss, Tony thinks he might have imagined it, of course he checks JARVIS’ footage later to prove he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming and sees that it did in fact happen. They had been in Tony’s workshop and Tony was explaining how useful physics is for engineering, Bucky had been smiling softly at Tony when he made some stupid pun about weight, and Bucky, Bucky just couldn’t help himself. He had leaned in close next to Tony, lifting his hand to cup Tony’s chin gently and softly pressed his lips to Tony’s.

And then it was over.

Bucky had turned to look back at the diagram that Tony had been showing him, missing the way Tony fluttered his eyes open again, staring at Bucky, mouth slightly agape, with a light blush along the top of his cheeks. Tony continued staring for a moment before licking his lips and continuing with his explanations, though he had stumbled over the first few words and was speaking a little more softly than before.

~*~*~

The second time they kissed, Tony was looking for an excuse to do it. Despite the video evidence, he was still unsure as to how real the first one was, but he wanted to do it again. Badly. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Bucky hadn’t mentioned it. He hadn’t done anything differently since the kiss and there was no awkwardness between them.

So Tony was trying to figure out whether to bring it up, or just plant one on him, whilst talking to Bucky about an idea that came to him when Thor left his hammer on some of Tony’s paper work and he wasn’t able to do anything about it until Thor woke from his nap. He was thinking of modifying some weapons to only work for specific people and was wondering out loud to Bucky if it would be worth it or even possible to use complex security systems for something as small as a rifle. In the middle of his distracted rambling he had decided ‘fuck it’ and stood on his tip toes, balancing with a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder and quickly pecked him on the mouth, he then turned abruptly and walked swiftly out of the room before Bucky could even react. Bucky had frowned in confusion as Tony left, wondering why he was leaving when they had been having a pleasant conversation. Bucky had thought the idea had some potential.

~*~*~

When Bucky didn’t make a fuss about Tony kissing him the next time they saw each other, Tony decided that they didn’t need to make a huge deal out of this change in their relationship. Bucky was obviously happy with it from the way he had smiled brightly at Tony as he walked in the room, and Tony gave a tentative smile back, giving Bucky’s shoulder a soft pat as he walked past.

Later, Tony found himself in the kitchen, assisting Bucky. Bucky had asked JARVIS what would be fun and easy to bake when Tony walked by and offered his non-existent knowledge of baking. Mostly he just wanted to spend some time with his – boyfriend? Friend who he happened to have kissed a couple times…? Either way Tony was mixing the icing and ate a spoonful whilst Bucky put the tray in the oven. Bucky had turned back to Tony and gave an amused smirk at the sight of him. “What?” Tony had asked, blinking innocently.

“Nothing,” Bucky had slowly started moving closer, staring at the corner of Tony’s mouth, where there was some blue icing. Smirk growing wider, Bucky had crowded Tony against the counter behind him and taken the bowl of icing to place it beside them. He placed his hands flat on the counter on either side of Tony’s waist and bent down, smiling, to kiss the corner of Tony’s mouth, tongue darting out to swipe up the icing before leaning back slightly to check he had got it all. Pleased with his effort, he grinned and winked then turned to start cleaning up the mess they had left, oblivious to Tony’s heavy breathing and racing pulse, or the way his eyes had darkened and his cheeks had gained a rosy hue. Tony’s small smile and bright eyes did not leave his face that evening.

~*~*~

A few days later, Bucky was having breakfast with Clint, Steve, Natasha and Thor. Bruce opted to take his tea and his plate of waffles to the living room and Thor was trying to convince him that company during breakfast is the best way to start the day. “Understand friends, that social gatherings during any meal at any time of day can be heartening, enjoying the company of friends can afford the most hopeful beginning to a long day, if only for a few moments.”

“Thor, let Bruce eat in the living room, if you’re worried, you can go eat with him,” Steve said covering his waffles in what could be a metric ton of maple syrup. Bucky thought it was a bit excessive but decided not to say anything. Steve could be very particular about food these days and considering what it was like back in the day, everyone figured he deserved to experience the flavours.

“Steven, your suggestion is most appreciated, I will endeavour to keep Bruce company this morning,” Thor replied as he left, and a groan could be heard that did nothing to lessen the brightness of Thor’s grin.

As Bucky stood and stretched, ready to retrieve more bacon, Tony rushed in looking a bit flustered. He was distractedly scrolling through emails on his phone whilst attempting to fix his tie one-handed. “Morning everyone, I’m running a bit late so I won’t be sticking around for breakfast,” he snatched a piece of toast from Bucky’s plate once he pocketed his phone, stopping to give Bucky a kiss which was supposed to be short (it wasn’t), then fled in a way that was not dissimilar to lightning and thunder, there one second in all its chaos, then gone the next. Bucky felt a little breathless from it all.

Steve, Clint and Natasha were all staring wide-eyed at the entrance to the kitchen, meanwhile Bucky had a soft smile gracing his lips, and his eyes were glinting with joy. After a moment the others turned there gaze to Bucky who just casually started munching on his bacon.

“What the fuck?” Clint whispered in confusion. “What. The fuck?” he sat down. Bucky, still munching, looked up questioningly, eyebrow raised.

“Pal, Tony just kissed you…” Steve said cautiously, frowning at Bucky, no doubt wondering why he wasn’t a little freaked out. When Bucky’s eyes met his, he raised his brows, gesturing at where Tony had left. Bucky narrowed his eyes at Steve suspiciously, not sure why Steve was struggling with the fact.

“… Yeah…” twitching his nose, he looked back to his plate.

“How long has that been happening?” Natasha asked calmly, though there was a hint of an amused smile. She thought Tony had looked more relaxed recently, she just hadn’t realised this was the reason.

“Um,” was his response. He moved on to the eggs whilst contemplating. “JARVIS?”

“Sergeant Barnes and Sir have kissed a total of four times now. They have also held hands a number of times.” JARVIS easily provided. Natasha gave an impressed look whilst Steve only looked more confused and slightly disappointed which concerned Bucky, he had hoped that Steve would be happy for him.

“Wait. We only kissed four times?” Bucky stopped eating at the realisation and looked confused. He thinks about the times they had kissed and realised he hadn’t told Tony how he feels, hadn’t even asked him on a date. His eyes widened and he looked to the kitchen door, a little unsure now that he had thought over it. How does Tony feel? Does he even really like Bucky? How come he hadn’t said anything?

Steve cleared his throat, “Buck, how come you didn’t tell me?” He sat and crossed his arms, trying to look a little intimidating to draw Bucky’s attention.

“Tell you what, punk?” Bucky said distractedly, brows furrowed, still worriedly pondering over his and Tony’s relationship.

Steve looked a little uncomfortable, his cheeks turning red. “That you and Tony were stepping out?”

Finally, Bucky looked at Steve for a few moments, trying to figure out what Steve is thinking. Pursing his lips, he said “Honestly? I’m not sure I realised it myself. If we even are…” He frowned at his own confusion, he hoped they were at that level. All of a sudden Steve seemed a little relieved, though he was also beginning to make the face that always got him in to trouble when he was smaller.

“Bucky if you hurt Tony by being all ‘can’t tie me down’,” he finger quoted, rolling his eyes, “I will not hesitate to hurt you physically.” Bucky’s eyes widened in amusement and shock.

“Hang on. Aren’t you supposed to give Tony a shovel talk? I thought I was your best pal?” Bucky arched an eyebrow at Steve.

Grinning, Steve replied with some sarcasm “Sure you are, but so is Tony, and his sad face is heart-breaking,” he rolled his eyes at Bucky, though he was still smiling, “maybe I will speak to him later as well… now answer my question, are you and Tony dating?” Bucky frowned again, considering the situation.

“… Not… yet? I’m not entirely sure. We never actually talked about it.” Bucky hesitated then muttered quietly, “…I would like to.”

“Congratulations!” Thor walked in with Bruce following behind, having overheard some of the conversation, Bruce suggested they join them in the kitchen. He rolled his eyes at Thor.

“Bucky, if you’re unsure where you stand with Tony, it’s best that you ask him.” Bruce suggested kindly, putting his dishes in the sink, “If you just leave it, there could be issues. Tony, despite the rumours, is actually quite sensitive about relationships. If he becomes unsure of the relationship, it’s possible that he will sabotage himself and ultimately, you as well.”

“Are we really just letting this go that quickly? Bucky didn’t realise he had started a relationship with Tony? I mean, that’s gold!” Clint exclaimed, finally getting over his shock.

“Clint if you ruin this, you will find yourself in similar situation to that time we were in Bosnia,” Natasha hissed at Clint, who paled and snapped his mouth shut before saying anything further.

“Uh, anyway, thanks Bruce, I’ll talk to Tony when he gets back.”

~*~*~

Bucky had some time to think about what he was going to say to Tony and yet he still found himself lost for words when Tony finally got back. It was so much simpler when he didn’t realise it was getting serious between them, but how could he not have noticed? He smiled whenever Tony was in the room. When Tony wasn’t in the room, he wondered where he was and whether he would like company. He was besotted with Tony. Head over heels.

So when JARVIS informed Bucky that Tony had gone straight to the workshop when he got back, Bucky headed there as well, not knowing what to say. He entered the code to the workshop and walked in seeing Tony fiddling with a screwdriver whilst talking back and forth with JARVIS. He cleared his throat and Tony looked up smiling when he saw Bucky standing there, which helped Bucky to clear his head.

“Hey tin-man,” Tony greeted and Bucky narrowed his eyes, brow furrowed.

“Wouldn’t you be the tin-man?”

Tony rolled his eyes at Bucky, “Whatever, cyborg,” he said with an amused smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, to which Bucky grinned. “Anyway, I was wondering when Sam would be dropping by next, I know he can’t stay away and I wanted to see if he had any input on increasing the flexibility on his wings? I mean he is the one who flies with them so he should let me know if he has concerns or suggestions on anything…”

Whilst Tony was rambling, Bucky made his way over to him and as he sat down, he carefully took Tony’s hand that wasn’t fiddling with the screwdriver and intertwined their fingers. He hadn’t intended for Tony to stop what he was doing and saying, but Tony did anyway, turning to face him with his left brow lifted in question. So instead of saying anything, Bucky just pulled him forward, lifting his free hand to Tony’s cheek and tilting his own chin up so he could meet Tony’s lips, brushing them together softly before it became firmer. He slid his tongue out and across the seam of Tony’s lips, encouraging them to open and Tony made a noise that sounded surprised but happy.

Bucky suddenly remembered why he came down to see Tony and pulled back, only for Tony to push forward to press another couple of short kisses to Bucky’s lips to his amusement. Tony sighed and leant his forehead against Bucky’s, breathing a little more heavily. “So, what was that about?” He asked, eyes still lightly closed.

“You’re awesome.” Bucky blurted out, and Tony’s lips quirked up in delight, then Bucky cleared his throat, blushing faintly, “I mean, uh,” he swallowed, “no wait, I stand by what I said. You are awesome,” he said, Tony chuckled and his eyes opened, glinting, “but I did come down here to talk to you.”

Tony leaned away and his brows furrowed in concern, though he tried to hide it by keeping up his smile which grew weaker till he gave up and sighed, “Oh.”

“Hey, it’s nothing bad, I promise sweetheart,” Bucky added, motioning for Tony to sit on the stool behind him and still holding his hand giving it a squeeze, relieved when Tony squeezed back.

“Alright…” Tony hesitated, “what is it?”

“It’s… kind of embarrassing,” Bucky was blushing again, “I just… didn’t realise things had changed between us.”

Tony squinted in confusion, mouth slightly open, “… I’m not following.”

“Uh, well, we started kissing-“

“You didn’t notice we were kissing?!” Tony tilted his head, staring incredulously with his mouth gaping.

Bucky slapped his hand over Tony’s mouth grinning. “No, I noticed we were kissing, how could I not? They’re pretty fantastic,” he could feel Tony grin and kiss his palm gently, “but I didn’t realise that we were doing anything differently, I guess…” He tried to figure out how to word it, frowning in concentration, “I guess it just felt so natural, that I didn’t realise that the kissing had changed our relationship. It kind of felt like something we always should have been doing,” Tony’s eyes were soft and shining brightly and Bucky lowered his hand so he could see his smile, “I’m just so comfortable with you,” he took a breath, “and I was wondering, if you have time, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

He really wasn’t expecting Tony to start laughing hysterically, so his smile turned into a pouty scowl. When Tony saw the face he was making, still giggling, he leaned forward and kissed him to soothe any hurt, “Sorry honey, it’s just, be honest? You didn’t realise we were kissing,” he chuckled again, grin wide and Bucky continued scowling, hiding his growing amusement and relief.

“You’re never gonna let this go are you?”

“Not a chance!” He kissed him again, “But yes I would love to go to dinner with you.” He said grinning, eyes twinkling with mirth, “I’m free tonight.”

Bucky smiled wide and reached forward to wrap his arms around Tony, laughing when he almost tripped out of the chair. “Perfect. I can’t wait.”

#WinterIron #Tony/Bucky #TonyxBucky #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #this got away from me a bit #it's very fluffy #fluff #listen I love fluff #and I love writing fluff #will I ever write angst?#maybe #but right now #I hope people like this #I didn't really know how to end it as well #it seems being asked out on a date is where I always end it #I should change that up next time #shouldn't I?#anyway enjoy!

215 notes · View notes