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chibivesicle · 2 years ago

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Trigun Stampede - Episode 2 review.

Another Saturday has come and gone and thus, episode 2 of Trigun Stampede. After watching this episode, my brain has accepted that this will be a different spin on these characters and their world. This episode picks up exactly where the last one left off. Vash has just saved Jeneora Rock and it starts out with him alone in a room doing maintenance on his gun. He’s got a small radio where the dj is lamenting about the general state of things on the planet. At the same time a mechanical looking phage seems to be watching him?

The dj makes it clear that plants are essential to life on the planet and notes they would have gone straight heaven.

We see Vash’s coat and bag next to a chair or couch.

This is an interesting take to show that he has all the tools for basic stuff for his gun and that he’s carrying that photo of them with Rem. It then feeds into the OP.

What I noticed on this watch is that it shows plants glowing red (likely Knives influence).

and as Vash is in free fall, he falls in front of this out first shot of a plant. The style makes me think of a cross between an Egyptian sarcophagus and that one species of alien from Star Wars. Don’t come for me Star Wars fans, but you know what I mean.

This is a clear full redesign of the plants and how they were depicted in the manga and even the anime. The anime design was low budget but clearly angelic and in the manga, they are angels. Full stop. This is likely a direct allusion to Knives goal to fuse with all the plants and will turn red in color when working for him. I think it is clear that the Christian imagery is going to be greatly reduced in this version. The anime was pretty high in it and the manga was even more so.

After the OP, the story starts with the breaking news that the Nebraska family have broken out of jail from May on the radio while Meryl interviews Vash to help him clear his name. We learn that Vash already knows that Knives is stealing plants and it has been attributed to him. We don’t know if this is because they are twin brothers or if Knives said he was Vash while doing it.

Of course they aren’t going to believe him since he lacks evidence (what about that photo you have Vash?). We also learn that Tonis is Rosa’s son and likes to collect insects that creep people out.

We’ve named a kid so we know he’ll have to be rescued of course! As they wrap up the interview, the townsfolk try to arrest Vash for his six million $$ bounty. This is similar to how the town of Inepril in the anime/April in the manga tried to catch Vash and then the Nebraska family broke out of jail. In the manga they just broke out, in the anime, the mayor allowed them to break out and in Stampede they broke out from May and went to Jeneora Rock. Oh goodness the shift in cities for plot points is going to make things hard to keep track of.

Anyhoo, back to the main action. The entire town is after Vash and he does a similar chase scene but more serious and less humorous with the clotheslines and such. I do think this show of the cityscape looks very nice with him in the middle but the others are barely visible, blended into the background.

However, this looks steampunk and not wild west. Can we tell we are in a desert landscape city? No, not from this view. However, Vash is not as trapped as we’d expect, Meryl and Roberto save him. There is a sign in the background which says ‘we have to carefully use the limited [resources] we have’ to really remind everyone not to waste things.

But it is a sort of blink and you’d miss it sign. I think it would have helped their storytelling to linger on it a bit longer. The point is that Meryl and Roberto are going to great lengths to help Vash - all for their ‘scoop’? Not sure if this is for the story.

We also learn that the Nebraskas are heading to their location b/c they broke out of jail - so that they could get the bounty on Vash. This is a plot point which confuses me - wouldn’t they be arrested once they handed Vash over to the authorities? The MP could just not pay them either.

I will say, I like the smaller Gosef model. The bow tie is a nice touch. I mean the original was a bit on the over the top shounen bad grunt side of things. . . so - less over the top bad son is a design plus. He still has his weird hard punching extender hand.

While they are attempting to escape, our reporters give Vash a hard time about being prepared (which is very much a Meryl trait) and he notes that ammo is expensive using a pizza example.

This same exchange happened at the beginning of episode 5 - Hard Puncher, when he beats bounty hunters. Yet, in that one he shoves a stack of four pancakes into his mouth in one go.

Ah, the pancakes make sense since he is in a diner. I’d argue that Rosa’s diner is more like a saloon, since it seems she only serves drinks and not food.

This time Vash gets caught my the women with the same rationale that they are mothers but there is less verbal stories of why they need the money, more that ‘we are mothers read between the lines.’

I think Stampede is going to have a lot of blink and you miss it points for motivations along with rationale. I think the other formats might have given a bit more time to things which makes it fit a bit better. You don’t need that much more - just a touch, but do let the establishing shots breathe a bit more so our eyes can linger over them a bit more.

The Nebraskas want that bounty on Vash so they almost crash into the group.

Of course Tonis randomly shows up with his bugs, so Vash has to rescue him and Rosa. I like the attempt to show the dirt and dust but it should be hazier, it all seems very contained. I think it is throwing me off b/c the sky is lacking in that desert haze that never really goes away. I’m wondering if the creative team were fans of Breaking Bad or Better Call Saul? The creative teams behind both those shows purposely really emphasized the desert landscape of the blue, taupe, brown, brown and more shades of brown. Breaking Bad worked really hard on highlighting the contrast in their shots.

The images above can be deceptive since many days aren’t the clear and pristine and instead you are being pelted with dirt and sand which gets in your face, up your nose and even in between your teeth.

I just keep wondering where the high clouds are and why the windmills aren’t spinning in all the background shots. The terrain is mainly flat, there will be wind.

Back to the plot - Vash is able to escape drawing the Nebraskas away from the town and Meryl lays into him that he’s running away.

Not only that, she tells him outright that he’s running away from pain. This sort of dialogue is too ‘early’ in the narrative. Wolfood is the character who is the first one to really call this out in the anime and manga. But everyone now has an amazing EQ and can all see that Vash is running from pain and is a sad boi. Meh.

Of course, the Nebraskas quickly abandon their quest for Vash and decide to steal the one working plant. Which really leads me to question the plant security here. In episode one the MP strolled right in. In this episode they strolled right in. Not only that, plants aren’t that heavy so it is very easy to steal the key part of it over the large tower reactor bit. Can I have a word with you Jeneora plant security people? Maybe make it a bit more secure. Or at least harder to reach like the bulb version.

The fight scene is okay, not great. Vash saves Rosa again, dodges a lot and looks cool breakdancing and then stops a bullet with his single shot showing that he’s an excellent marksman. The structure collapses and Gosef saves the plant but then the rest of them need to pull him up. Daddy loves his darling son and the mothers relent to help him. In the original, he’s just as protective, instead upset when he trips over a parked car and yells at the people to not hurt his son (in giant steam powered form). Afterwards, drinks are on the house and everyone has made up.

Is this an episode of Fairy Tail? Did I change series?

I get that Vash is all about resolving issues with no conflict but he still made sure they were arrested again in the anime and manga. Hell, he gave them to the town to claim the bounty to fix the broken plant.

What I missed was the showdown between the Nebraskas and Vash. The build up in the anime was perfect. The lone figure in the clearing dust. Dust that looks more accurate than in Stampede. I know that is weird to say; it just is way more desert with that overall haze of all the sand that was kicked up in the collapse due to the giant punch.

I loved the little bit with the marker and the finger wave to come at him.

And then, saving all the women one by one before getting serious. The ratcheting up on the tension is great here. We also have all the townsfolk around watching and commenting giving it more of that emotional drama.

And then, when Vash puts on his glasses. That shift in tone from I’m just a carefree guy to this means business is instantaneous. This was when it struck me. Something had seemed off in episode one and two. It was this! The build up to him putting the glasses on for the first time.

Studio Orange why did you skip this small bit of character establishment? If you did it, all the older fans would get chills up their spines. New fans would get chills up their spines!

I also miss the touch where he pops out the empty casings from the five shots he took to deflect the punch. The moment to declare his last bullet is special. How he spins the barrel before cocking it back and firing to disable the punching mechanism.

God, this was such gold. And then it goes to Vash making his first declaration of “Love & Peace!”

Since the Nebraskas don’t get arrested again, they are treated to beers and Vash tries to slip away. We’ve got classic framing here but I keep expecting that to be Wolfwood giving him shit for not saying goodbye.

I really want to know - Roberto and Meryl are remarkably friendly with Vash in a way that seems almost forced. You literally met him 24 hours ago. And you already feel the need to look like a smart ass by 1.) rushing out the door to look cool when Vash does come out and 2.) why is such a cynical man being understanding towards Vash?

I don’t get it, doesn’t seem quite natural. The relationship between Vash and the Bernardelli Insurance Society reps of Meryl and Milly developed more naturally. At first they were a nuisance, but over time grew to know one another. However, if someone is an investigative reporter you are NOT going to befriend them since you have no idea what their angle is.

Of course the drama isn’t over and a scream brings them back in b/c the giant mechanical phages are attacking Gosef! They lock onto him and he dashes out the door with Vash holding Daddy back from chasing after his son.

Who blows up out of line of sight and the episode ends.

Roberto declares again “Lost technology?” in case we don’t realize that glowing mechanical things are lost tech (again writers, you don’t need to spoon feed us this info).

Therefore, these weird mechanical oversized phages are the tool of one of the Gung-Ho Gungs is my guess. I’m leaning towards either Zazie due to the virus inspiration or Elendira since nails are her tool. But maybe I’m wrong and it is E.G. Mine since he did blow up. Argh. Gung-Ho Gun likely though.

The episode then has its first ED and based on the imagery we are focusing on the brothers and Rem. While watching this, it was when I realized that more than the main parts of the narrative are changed but the entire dynamic. In the anime and manga, Knives is the big bad at the end. The manga gives him more motivation but he keeps a hands off approach and Vash slowly gets pulled in by the increasing stakes.

For the anime and manga the major themes that stood out to me were the following:

1.) Holding your ideals and beliefs in the face of impossible situations. aka - faith in something larger than you. Or in this case a mainstream Protestant/Roman Catholic inspired God. Vash has an almost childlike or characterized as childlike dedication to his motivation to never kill. However, as much he tries to prevent collateral damage, he can’t. Yet, he earns Wolfwood’s respect due to his dedication, especially in the manga at the end of volume 9. Who is bowed down before a ‘metaphorical’ cross . . .

2.) The right to life is sacred/Do not willingly prevent another person’s future.

All living things are sacred and thus should be respected as such. This ties in with Rem’s dream of having a train ticket with no destination meaning each person makes their own choices where to go. It is a pity Knives never learned this when he manipulated the rest of the plants into joining him. Vash takes this to the most literal extreme while Wolfwood splits the middle of what is the ‘least damaging for the group as opposed to the individual’.

3.) Humans commit sin and deal with great suffering. Yet, they still seek redemption and forgiveness in light of this inherent nature.

Wolfwood is the easy example of this conflict that plays out through his entire character arc but this also applies to Vash. Vash’s somewhat misplaced desire to not kill resulted in many deaths or destruction. Plus, in the manga, when he destroyed July, he killed many people in the process, that is how Hopper the Gauntlet was able to be recruited and modified - for revenge of the woman he loved and cared for. This also plays into how Vash is able to break Knives control of the other plants. We see, what they saw, watching humans from their bulbs which is a mix of both the best and worst of human behavior.

Stampede with its ED showing the two twins as well as the immediate introduction of both and their past childhood events is going for a conflict/contrast between two brothers. Therefore, based on the first two episodes this version looks to examine

1.) How to be a pacifist and cause no harm to others.

2.) How are two brothers raised in the exact same environment polar opposites?

I’ll adjust and add to these as we go. Last bit, with the new night sky based ED, it is leaning into the sci fi/we came from space angle for the series and not the western.

For example the first still panel of Vash in the ‘98 ending has him shaving with a straight razor and a kerchief around his neck. This is a full reference to westerns.

Studio Orange is making it clear. This is not a western. This is sci fi/steam punk in a desert more than a western.

That is all for now and I’ll be back next week with my episode 3 review!

#trigun #trigun anime #trigun stampede #trigun manga #vash the stampede #vash #meryl stryfe #roberto deniro

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khalixascorner · 2 years ago

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Meant to Be Pt 1

Well it's a little late but here's day 3 of my 12 days of Christmas.

Summary: When Tony first met Peter, he was sure the kid would be an omega. The perfect omega for him rather. But when Peter presents as an alpha, Tony is willing to take drastic steps to correct the error. Luckily Peter is more than willing to go along with his plan. Somewhat tropey Omegaverse bitching fic written for @monster-cock69

Read on AO3

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Tony Stark, Omega Peter Parker, Alpha Peter Parker, Dark Tony Stark, Tony bitches Peter into an omega, Mpreg, Breeding Kink, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Consent, Peter wants it, but Tony definitely eggs him on along the way, and then takes advantage of him in doing so, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Smut, So much smut

The first time Tony met Peter, the boy hadn’t presented yet. He still had the mild smell of childhood with faint hints of what his scent might one day blossom into. But despite that, after their first meeting, Tony knew the boy was meant to be his. Who else could match his genius while complementing the more physical needs and wants? And given how tiny the boy was, and how easily he followed Tony’s every direction, it was clear he would be an Omega, the perfect match to Tony’s Alpha.

Given that it was only a matter of time, Tony began preparing to welcome his omega home. He redesigned his rooms at the tower and compound to have extra security and extra space, including lab space as he learned just how smart his omega to be was. It was going to be perfect. He’d court Peter, show him how well he could provide for him, and then bind the boy to him young to ensure no one tried to claim what was his.

He also fostered a relationship with Peter after Germany, taking advantage of the other Avengers’ absence to have the boy over more often. The hero worship was cute, and Tony actively encouraged the budding attraction the boy was clearly developing for him. Peter had not so subtly asked about him having an omega and why he hadn’t claimed one before. Tony gave a vague non answer about waiting for the right one, someone able to keep up with him everywhere and not just look pretty.

Peter had practically preened when Tony complimented him later on keeping up in the lab and with his Spidey stuff. And sure, maybe Tony was laying it on a bit thick but the kid made it so easy.

They danced around each other like this for months, waiting for Peter to finally present. The time stretched and Peter turned 16, then 17. Tony kept him close, ingratiating himself with the Aunt and establishing himself firmly in Peter’s life. He subtly steered Peter away from entanglements with people his own age, claiming more and more of his time and attention. Lab days became weekends at the compound. The fake internship became real over the long breaks, and Peter spent hours in the lab with him. Pepper and Rhodey had been skeptical at first, but when Tony was getting work done more efficiently and not drinking, they held their comments.

Tony knew they didn’t realize the extent of his plans, but he also knew they’d keep their mouths shut anyway. He was critical to SI’s success and an underage mate would barely be a blip on anyone’s radar.

When Peter finally presented, a few months after his 17th birthday, the results weren’t what anyone expected.

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

Peter burst into the labs sobbing and shaking as he dropped his bag and headed straight for Tony’s station.

“Mr. Stark, please, I need your help,” Peter cried, arms clutched tight to his body. “I don’t know what’s wrong but this isn’t right.”

Before Tony could ask for clarification, his nose caught a whiff of Peter’s scent. His very alpha scent. He grimaced, but quickly smoothed it away as the action just made Peter cry harder.

“I don’t understand,” the boy sobbed, and Tony gathered him into his arms, shushing him. “I’m not supposed to be an alpha. I don’t want this, Mr. Stark. Please fix it, fix me.”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Tony soothed even as his mind ran a mile a minute.

If he were a better man, he’d simply show Peter that being an alpha wasn’t so bad. But he wanted the boy, wanted him hanging off his knot and bound to him, so instead, he gently guided him to the lab’s couch.

“Take a deep breath, there we go,” Tony said, pulling the boy in close to him. “If you’re sure about the omega thing, there is something we could try, but I have to warn you, kid, it won’t be comfortable and once we start, you can’t turn back.”

“There is?” Peter asked, looking at Tony with those Bambi eyes full of hope.

“There is. But it's best to do as close to presentation as possible, and it requires a lot of preparation so I need to know as soon as possible, kid,” Tony said as he ran hand up and down Peter’s side. It was meant to be comforting but also served to spread his scent on the boy more.

“And you’re not going to try and tell me what an honor it is to be an alpha?” Peter asked, looking at Tony suspiciously.

“Peter, you know your body better than me and if you’re telling me it’s supposed to be omega, then I believe you,” Tony said firmly. It was partially true, as Tony had always supported free expression of all genders but in this case, his belief was driven by selfishness. He wanted his omega, and all the better if Peter gave what he wanted willingly.

“I-thank you, sir. I, I want to do it. Please,” Peter said, relief clear in his voice. Tony held back a smile.

“Alright, kid, let’s go grab some food, and I’ll have Friday start getting what we need,” Tony said, standing and drawing Peter up with him. “We’ll also need to come up with a good excuse to keep you at the compound for a bit to make sure you’re ok after.”

“Christmas break starts next week, so we could tell May there’s an experiment we need to run before the holidays at the compound,” Peter immediately suggested.

“Good plan, kid, I’ll text her now to see if she’s ok with you coming,” Tony said, his mind already whirring.

Friday took care of ordering food while Tony sent May a quick message. It was easy to play it off as him getting Peter out of the apartment to help him cope with the unexpected presentation. May was grateful for Tony’s help and signed off on the extended compound trip without a fuss.

“Alright, May is onboard,” Tony said as they finished eating. “I told her we’ve got an extended experiment to run and you’ll be with me for at least the week.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark,” Peter said shyly. “Is there anything I need to do? To get ready?”

“I’ll send you some medicine that will help prepare your body for the change. Don’t let May see it though,” Tony warned. “Also, there might be some side effects but you can’t let anyone other than me know.”

“Ok, I- I can do that.”

“I mean it, Peter,” Tony said firmly. “No telling Ned, MJ, or anyone. You’re not old enough to sign off of it, and May clearly thinks you should be an alpha, so we have to do this discreetly.”

“I promise, sir,” Peter swore earnestly. Tony held his gaze and then nodded.

“Alright, kid, then there’s one more thing to do now,” Tony said as he stood. “Wait here while I go get what we need.”

It only took a minute for the older to grab what he wanted and return to the younger man.

“Alright, Pete, pull your pants down for me,” Tony said matter of factly.

“My pants?” Peter squeaked, squirming on the couch. Tony bit back a predatory smile as he nodded.

“The more we can prevent the change from continuing, the less we’ll have to undo,” Tony explained as he pulled out a cock cage and some lube. “This will help keep your size down.”

“Oh but, then I can’t uh-“ Peter flushed and let his sentence trail off.

“I know, but you’re going to need to resist, kid,” Tony said firmly. “The only orgasms you should be having should be from your prostate to try and simulate an omega’s orgasm. Otherwise you’re just increasing the alpha hormones in your system.”

Peter gave him such a trusting look as he nodded and pulled his pants down, revealing his cock. It was still small, and Tony let out a satisfied hum seeing that it hadn’t even finished growing yet. He put just a dab of lube on the cage and grabbed Peter’s cock, which had started hardening under his gaze.

“Tsk, looks like we’ll have to risk the hormones to get you small again,” Tony muttered. Peter squeaked but Tony ignored it as he started stroking Peter’s cock. “Only other option is ice and I’m not that mean.”

Peter panted and groaned in response to his attention and came in no time at all. Tony used his hand to catch Peter’s cum, thankful there wasn’t very much yet, then cleaned his cock up with the other and slid the cage all the way on. It clicked into place easily, and Tony patted Peter’s leg.

“There you go, kid. I’ve got to get the preparation started, so you get going and I’ll see you in a few days.” Tony said. “You’ll get the meds by drone.”

The kid was dazed but followed his instructions easily as Friday delivered him to Happy, leaving Tony alone in the living room. With Peter gone, Tony stopped holding back his smirk. He sat down on the couch, pushing his pants out of the way enough to grab his cock. It had been throbbing since Peter had pulled his pants down so obediently and he was looking forward to some relief.

“Friday, playback the security footage, focusing on Peter after he pulled his pants down,” Tony said.

He used Peter’s cum as lube as he watched Peter’s reactions to the earlier hand job. It took a few loops, but then he was coming, Peter’s moans echoing around him.

Tony dropped his head back and smiled. The kid was going to be his just in time for Christmas and then he’d be able to draw those moans out on purpose. Merry Christmas to him indeed.

#khalixa writes #starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark #peter parker #alpha tony stark #alpha beta omega dynamics #alpha peter #omega peter #omegaverse #mind the tags

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mythandlaur · 3 years ago

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Epithet Erased Week - Day 7

I had a hard time picking an AU for this but once I did holy crap. Uh. This may have gotten a bit out of hand, and some parts may be a bit extraneous, but I'm determined to keep all of them. It might also be a bit incoherent because I spat it out in a two hour sitting and didn't edit it it just kind of showed up???

This is set in the Psychonauts AU I posted about a while ago since people seemed to like it??? I guess we'll test that now.

Because one part in this nonsense might make people think it, I do not ship Molly and Sylvie. Sylvie's just being a good therapist/friend in a scene partially inspired by something I'd like to write in the future but am not sure I'll ever get around to because it's part of a whole plot I'd like to write and I don't know the details of that entire plot.

Reminder that because day 8 (redesign) is impossible to do in writing I'll be skipping straight to day 9! Holy god am I actually going to finish one of these

Warning for written potential thalassophobia triggers

"Well," Sylvie says dryly, watching the group of tiny, googly-eyed, brightly-colored octopi marching along the sand in front of him carrying a 2x4 like a colony of ants carrying a corn flake. "I don't know what I expected."

The sun beats down from some unseen point in the clear blue sky overhead, warming their faces. Molly's already opted to tie her bear hoodie around her neck by the arms rather than wear it, and Sylvie's considering following her lead with his own jacket, though Percy seems more than comfortable in her trenchcoat. The island they'd arrived on is spacious but sparse, mostly covered in palm trees with purple leaves. The only denizens are the octopi in various sizes and colors, who appear to be building a cabin at the treeline--at least, the ones who aren't goofing off on the beach.

"...Hmph." Percy rests a hand on her hip, watching the builder octopi with narrowed eyes. "Howie would throw a fit if he saw this."

"Um...doesn't he hate psychics," Molly asks tentatively, raising a hand.

"Oh, yes, in a sense. But also I highly doubt these building conditions are OSHA compliant. Not a single piece of safety equipment to be seen anywhere."

"Ugh." Sylvie begins to pace along the shore, cupping his chin in one hand and holding his elbow with the other. "This doesn't make any sense."

"I agree," Percy says with a sage nod. "Even in a mental world, safety is important."

"What--no! Not that." Sylvie shakes his head, gesturing with one hand. "This can't be all there is here. That's not how memories work."

Molly rocks on her feet, hands clasped in front of her. "You said you talked to him yesterday, right?"

"I interviewed him, yes." Sylvie wiggles his finger in a spiral pattern in the air to illustrate his point. "I've been able to get suppressed memories that way before, and we got pretty deep into his subconscious, but then he just...hit a wall. It was almost like it hurt him."

"Hurt him?" Molly frowns. "Should we really be doing this, then?"

"No, no--he was still trying to remember, he wanted to, he just...couldn't for some reason."

"May I suggest we check around the perimeter," Percy says. "There may be something here we're missing."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Molly?"

"Okay."

"And do be careful." Percy squints suspiciously at a group of octopi building an elaborate sand castle nearby. "Despite the cheerful setting, we don't know what might be lurking behind those adorable googly eyes."

Sylvie, Molly, and one of the builder octopi stare at Percy in utter bewilderment, before Sylvie tugs on Molly's arm and they start walking.

There really isn't that much more to see along the rest of the shoreline, which Sylvie supposes makes sense. Molly, Phoenica, and Trixie had only brought the mysterious and enthusiastic "Rick Shades" back to the training facility about a week ago, and he'd been all but a babbling mess for the first few hours due to starvation and dehydration. After that, he'd claimed to be suffering nearly all-consuming retrograde amnesia, though this certainly hadn't stopped him from immediately trying to make friends with absolutely everyone in the building. He had an odd way of going about things and very little social sense, but he'd proven a rather capable psychic when it came to the more physical abilities, and did not hesitate to share his bizarre techniques with anyone who would listen (and some who wouldn't).

Sylvie had tried his own brand of hypnotherapy on him, but it had gone poorly, ending up with Rick facedown on the floor apologizing for ten minutes. So, with Rick's permission, they'd decided to try to find the problem at its source. Neither Sylvie nor Molly could be dissuaded from the opportunity--Sylvie for the potential learning experience, and Molly to help in lieu of Phoenica, who had become extremely attached to Rick and extremely invested in his well-being--and, considering it was supposed to be relatively safe, had been allowed to as long as Percy supervised.

Their scouting is uneventful (aside from a brief glimpse of some censors chasing some octopi around in a circle, both parties letting out constant high-pitched screaming), and eventually Sylvie sits down in the sand with a huff, putting his face in his hands.

"There shouldn't be so little here!" He cracks one eye open to stare off into the distance, where all that can be seen is an infinite expanse of crystal blue water. "No vaults, no baggage, not even figments. Memories don't just disappear, they've got to be somewhere in here!"

"Um..." Molly sits down next to him, awkwardly patting his arm. "...It's okay if we don't find anything. He seems pretty happy."

"But I have to figure this out now."

"You really don't." Molly smiles, a little strained. "We can just go! It's fine."

"Ms. Blyndeff is correct." Percy inclines her head. "It's possible there may be something in the trees, but I'm beginning to get a bad feeling about this place."

"You don't get it, just--let me think."

Molly's face falls, and her gaze drops to the sand as she scoots away from him, eventually getting back up to do some pacing of her own. Really, it's not her fault, it's no one's fault, but--Sylvie considers himself an expert at interpreting things like dreams and mental worlds, it's the thing he's good at even compared to the adults. It's the thing people have to take seriously about him, and if he fails to figure out the first slightly unorthodox mind he comes across, then...!

"Sylvie!"

Sylvie's head snaps up. "What?"

Molly's standing ankle-deep in the water with her back to him, pointing. Sylvie pulls himself to his feet, walking over to stand next to her with Percy close behind.

"I thought I saw something in the water--a light?"

"A light?" Sylvie steps forward, until he's waist-deep, trying not to think about his soggy jacket--it's technically not real water and he isn't actually wet, but it sure feels like it. After a moment of hesitation, Sylvie pulls off his glasses, hooks them on his collar, and dunks his head to get a less distorted view.

The island's shore drops off sharply a little ways in front of them, leaving what looks to be empty, dark water extending to a dizzying depth below. As his eyes adjust slightly, Sylvie can make out vague shapes moving underneath, and--

Lights. Colorful lights, like neon signs, blinking somewhere far, far below.

Sylvie stands up straight, head breaking the water with a splash. He's sure his hair looks very pitiful, flat and soggy around his shoulders, but for once he doesn't care. "Of course!" He smacks the heel of his hand into his forehead. "Stupid Sylvester, stupid."

Percy and Molly wade forward to join him, though Molly has to stop as the water reaches her neck, looking both resigned and vaguely annoyed by her own height. "You see something?" Percy asks.

"Molly's right--there's lights, and I see some other stuff. Of course it's all down there!"

"That's great," Molly chirps, though her face is quick to fall again. "But...how do we get down there?"

Sylvie's face twists in disgust. "I guess we're swimming." He hates swimming.

"...How?"

Sylvie turns to her. "Do you not know how to swim?"

"Oh, no, I do, I taught myself!" Sylvie opens his mouth to question that, but not for the first time decides it's really not worth it. "I just figure we're gonna have an issue with...uh...air?"

"Heh." Sylvie reaches up to push up his glasses dramatically, though he forgets they're still on his collar and instead just pokes the bridge of his nose awkwardly. He pretends he meant to do that. "Oh, Molly. You're really gonna need to open your mind a little if you want to get stronger."

Molly gives him a flat look. "Uh-huh. So...you have a way around that, or...?"

"We all do!" Sylvie gestures out into the water. "Essentially, we're in something very much like a dream right now, and dreams don't always have to follow the rules of physics. The same goes for mental worlds. We can't exactly change somebody else's like you could change your dreams, but we can do enough to make a place for ourselves in it."

"You're saying we can breathe underwater?"

"Exactly! If we will it."

Molly tilts her head down slightly, though isn't able to look too far down given the fact that her chin is barely above water. "...I don't know."

"Mr. Ashling is right," Percy says with a nod. "It's been well-documented."

"I'm probably not gonna be able to do it," Molly says, backing up towards the shore.

Sylvie frowns, expression softening somewhat as he matches her steps. Molly always seems...pretty self-deprecating about her own powers. It'd been that way since he'd met her all those months ago, and he can't for the life of him figure out why, aside from the bizarre family issues she's vaguely alluded to. But she's certainly capable. The one time they'd dueled, she'd managed to completely cut off his senses of sight and sound, and blocked his attempts at clairvoyance to get at least some idea of what he was doing. He'd never been beaten before!

"...Molly, I may be a genius, but you're just as capable as everyone else." Somewhere in the back of his mind, Beefton lets him know that came out a bit underhanded. Too late now. He shakes his head. "Here, let's try something."

Sylvie steps forward, holding out both hands. Molly hesitates, but takes them, putting on his best therapist voice.

"Close your eyes. I'm gonna start walking backwards with you, and you're just gonna focus on my hands, and your breathing. Not on the water. It's pretty mild in temperature, it's basically not even here. And you're gonna keep breathing. If you have any trouble with it, we'll get you out, and we'll leave. Okay?"

Molly nods. Sylvie glances to Percy, who nods as well and moves to stand behind Molly, arms held out. Sylvie begins walking backwards, trying to make as little noise as possible as Molly's hands grip his tighter.

Her head goes underwater before his does, and he can't help but tense a bit, but she doesn't even seem to notice. Sylvie grins at Percy, who gives him a faint smile back. Man, he's good.

Another large step backwards, and Sylvie's underwater as well. It's a bit strange to keep breathing when his mind is trying to tell him he's underwater, but he gets the hang of it after a couple seconds. He keeps stepping them back until they reach the dropoff.

"Okay." His voice is maybe a bit muffled, but at least not too terribly distorted. "You can open your eyes now."

Molly does--and gasps, then clamps a hand over her mouth. Sylvie holds onto her other hand, and for a moment it looks like she's going to panic...before she smiles.

"...Feenie's gonna be really jealous," she says. "She can't swim at all. Oh! And this might help with Lori's stuff!"

Sylvie nods, though he's still not sure what that means, exactly. Molly lets go of his hand and does a messy breaststroke forward, looking down.

"And that's the light I saw!"

"It's quite a ways down," Percy says, now underwater with them with her arms staunchly at her sides as she kicks her legs like a mermaid. Sylvie can't imagine it's effective, but she looks as deadly serious as always. "Shall we get going?"

"We shall," Sylvie replies, extremely pleased with himself. Everything's suddenly coming up aces for him--and figuring out the mystery of this mental world will be the icing on the proverbial cake.

Percy's method of swimming isn't really effective--until she summons a psionic pair of flippers in translucent periwinkle around her feet, and a levitation orb to hold like a motor. Sylvie kicks himself for not thinking of it, but lets her swim ahead while he and Molly work out how to at least do the levball trick, though neither of them are quite as good at it. The glow at least helps as the water grows darker.

Sure enough, everything is under the surface. They pass some figments early on (Molly points out ones that look like her, Phoenica, and Trixie), then some surreal-looking sea life including a quite literal sea horse, then some aquatic variants of common mental denizens (there's something about a censor in a full business suit with a very sparkly mermaid tail that Sylvie finds almost unreasonably funny, though the quantity of regrets taking the form of oozy jellyfish are somewhat concerning).

Thankfully, pressure appears to be as much of a non-issue as air, though as they travel further down, the lights in the distance don't seem to get any closer. Strange shapes begin to form in the shadows cast by their levballs, and Percy bids the two to stay back as she investigates. Molly presses a finger to her temple, a green glow signaling her attempting to boost Percy's sense of sight, and Sylvie closes his eyes, mentally reaching out until he can see through Percy's eyes.

In the pale blue glow of her orb, the shape glints like metal, though it's dark as obsidian and covered in spikes. Sylvie can sense Percy's sudden spike of concern from behind her eyes, and quickly snaps back to himself, swimming backwards with Molly following after.

"Stay put," Percy says, swimming a ways back as well--before shooting a blast of blue psionic energy at the shape.

The white flash as it explodes only serves to contrast the black lightning it produces, reaching out hungry tendrils into the water around it like a living thing. There's a couple of other explosions from nearby mines, and as the ringing in his ears fades, Sylvie can hear what sounds like a very large group of censors approaching at speed.

"Go," Percy demands, and the kids don't have to be told twice. The trio speed downwards, and when Sylvie glances over his shoulder, though he can't see the lightning against the dark water, he can faintly make out the shapes of large censors beating at it--and disintegrating.

"...Judging by the speed of the reaction, these things definitely represent a major concern," Sylvie says.

"They're everywhere," Molly breathes, turning her green orb this way and that to shine its faint light on more obsidian mines.

Percy turns to Sylvie, frowning deeply. "Any thoughts, Mr. Ashling?"

"I...can't be sure if this is what's causing the problem, but it might be a sign pointing towards it. It's likely representing a desire to keep something away from this part of the mental world, but I can't tell by looking if they're artificial or not."

"Perhaps we should retreat for the moment."

"No!" Sylvie's eyes practically glint in his own orange light as he points downwards. "We're definitely getting closer now. We just need to be careful and--"

Something cuts him off.

It's a groan like a creaking ship mixed with a crooning whale, far away and yet loud enough to rattle all of their ribcages and set the water around them vibrating. Percy quickly darts out in front of them, dispelling her flippers and levball in favor of a cutlass made out of pure psionic energy, her signature weapon. Sylvie pulls Molly back by the shoulders, casting about with his mind for the sound's source.

He does find a presence, but it's a bit like turning on your headphones only to find you left the volume on all the way up, and it almost physically blasts him backwards. He only realizes he'd started sputtering when Molly shakes his shoulders.

"Are you okay?!"

"I--yes--it--very loud--"

The sound comes again, though this time with a note of anger. Something rises up before them, effortlessly pushing aside the mines. In the faint light of Percy's sword, they can make out a round, bulbous shape in a mottled, sickly blue color. As it moves up and up and up, the light shines off sunken googly eyes, over a very, very large mass of tentacles that stretch into the darkness below. The whole thing looks like a mix of the worker octopi, the aquatic variety of regrets, and Cthulhu itself, and though not all of it is visible, Sylvie guesses it's at least the size of a house.

("BEEFTON CANNOT SWIM,") Sylvie's archetype loudly reminds him in his head.

At the same time, Percy dismisses her sword and grabs them both in large psionic hands. "Retreat!"

Percy shoots upwards like a rocket just as the creature swings a tentacle at her, dragging the kids along behind with her constructs. Molly practically clings to Sylvie's arm as Sylvie looks down, trying to get a better look at the creature, but the darkness is quick to claim it. It wails again, very loud, too loud, but it doesn't sound like it's following them.

Percy maneuvers them deftly through the minefield into comparatively shallower waters, and they're high enough to find a school of regrets before she dares to stop.

They're all gasping for air despite being underwater, hearts pounding. Molly only extricates herself from Sylvie after a solid minute, wrapping her arms around herself instead. "What. Was that."

"I don't know," Sylvie admits, too frazzled to think up an excuse or explanation. "Clearly whatever it is he doesn't know it's there or I feel like he would've said something!"

"Clearly, we should leave," Percy says, already digging in her pocket for her salts. "Mr. Shades needs to be made aware of this immediately."

"W-wait!" Molly waves her hands. "S-should we really tell him about this? I feel like it'll freak him out. I mean...it was only after we got past the big do not enter mines that it showed up, right?"

"Only after we got close to the lights..." Sylvie's brows furrow. "Maybe it's...protecting whatever's down there? It didn't seem benign, but it didn't follow us, either..." Sylvie shakes his head. "You might be right, Molly. Maybe we should think about this a little more."

"I am a mere security officer here to ensure your safety," Percy says, hand solemnly over her chest. "I will defer to your judgment."

"Thank you." Though it's just Percy being Percy, he does appreciate that she's always treated him like an adult, exactly the same way she'd treat everyone else. He's never felt looked down on by her, which is why he'd been willing to have her along.

And he supposes she had saved their rears just now...Sylvie doesn't really have much combat ability outside of his aspect, and he knows Molly doesn't either--or at least, none she's willing to use, if the faint hints she's dropped to a pyrokinetic ability are correct. If either of them have a problem, they think and trick their way out of it. Something about the sheer noise of that construct's mind makes Sylvie think outsmarting it probably wouldn't have been possible.

Sylvie takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a long sigh, hand traveling to his own pocket. "Okay. Yeah. I think we're done here. Molly?"

"Fine by me." She fumbles around in the hoodie still tied around her shoulders like a cape. "But I think I'm gonna have to tell Trixie and Giovanni about the squid."

"You're--!"

But Molly's already gone. He gives Percy a sort of desperate, frustrated look, only getting her usual flat expression in reply. Sylvie huffs, and braces himself.

Sylvie's chin drops forward before he jolts upright and alert, coughing violently into his sleeve. He always thinks this time he'll be prepared for the smell, but it never gets any better--though he supposes that's the point. Doesn't make it any less unpleasant, and it sticks in his nose for what feels like forever.

"Oh! Hello!"

He looks up from his hacking fit to see Rick, sitting in the dentist's-office-looking chair where they'd left him nose-deep in a comic book. He's grinning, as usual.

"That was very strange to watch!"

Sylvie swipes at his nose with his jacket sleeve. "Mhm." He takes a moment to get his bearings, then stands, glancing over to find Molly and Percy already on their feet, Molly pulling a face (presumably also at the salts).

Rick puts the comic book facedown on the table next to him and hops to his feet, clapping his hands together eagerly. "So! Did you find anything?"

Percy bows her head grimly. "I regret to inform you that your mind appears to be full of cephalopods."

Rick continues grinning. "I fail to see the issue!"

"No, we didn't really find anything," Molly says, playing with the fur on the sleeves of her hoodie, "I'm sorry."

"Oh." Rick's smile lessens slightly in intensity, and there's a flicker of disappointment behind his sunglasses--but it's gone so quick Sylvie can't be sure he'd actually seen it. "That's fine."

"Really?"

"Certainly!" Rick puts a hand over the heart patch on his jacket, which is on the wrong side. His face turns stony as if he's giving a soliloquy. "I may not have my memories, but I do have something far more important."

"Oh boy," Sylvie mutters.

Rick's eyes go impossibly wide, and his smile shows more teeth than it's supposed to. "FRRRRRIENDSHIP!!!"

He says it like it's a be-all end-all and also probably a curse, leaning towards Sylvie. Sylvie quickly leans away. Rick's friendship sights had been seemingly really set on him recently for whatever reason. It was weird enough that Molly was willing to hang around with him.

"Now, we are BONDED," Rick bellows, throwing a fist to the sky. "The four of us are closer than EVER BEFORE! You cannot hope to escape the ties of our camaraderie!"

"Uh-huh," Sylvie grumbles.

"We might not have found your memory, but on the bright side we saw tiny octopi in the first stages of forming a society!" Molly beams. "You know, before the inevitable corruption sets in."

Rick clasps his hands together. "Oh, lovely!"

"They were quite adept builders," Percy agrees. "Howie would be proud, assuming I left out all the safety violations."

"Howie? Who is this Howie?"

"You'll know him when you see him." Percy waves a dismissive hand, turning towards the door. "Now, I believe it's time for some sustenance following our Sisyphean exertions."

Molly laughs nervously. "From...the cafeteria, right?"

"Yes, I am afraid I have not gathered any pinecone treats recently."

Molly sighs in relief. Rick raises a hand. "What is a pine cone?"

"I'll have to show you when I get some more," Percy says with a warm smile. Molly shakes her head very aggressively behind her. "They make a delightful healthy snack."

"We should go," Sylvie says, and thankfully the others agree without any further protest.

The four of them leave for the cafeteria together, Molly lagging behind. Sylvie slows down to walk with her, and she looks up at him with a grateful nod. Though it was destined to remain a secret, Rick's talk about bonding might not have been too far off the mark--they have a mystery to solve now, together.

#epithet erased #epithet week #sylvester ashling #molly blyndeff #percival king #rick shades #my writing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

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

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool.

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike.

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list.

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint.

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it.

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #birch #fully completely #series #sequel #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #thor #mcu #marvel #au #biker!au #biker au #biker boys of birch #bucky barnes #korg

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alaffy · 3 years ago

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Gossip Girl, Ep.2x02 – Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (Spoilers)

Forget Gossip Girl, can we just have a series about Shan's family? Because I really want to know more about them.

In all seriousness though, I think this is what I was kind of expecting from the first season of the reboot. And the reason why I kind of got annoyed with the show after a while. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy having some social consciousness to it. But it is one of those dramas like the original Gossip Girl or Dynasty (either version); there has to be a sense of…unreality to it. They have to be crazy. You got to have that villain you love to hate. You got to have that fight in a pool. It’s chaos and it’s fun. I think that was what was kind of missing from the first season.

But that being said, I don’t mind that there’s a little bit of positive influence. For instance, with Kate and the teachers, they had so much power and there really wasn’t any pushback to them. There wasn’t anyone who was their opposite. In this season, they have introduced a new teacher (who’s name I keep missing). Like Kate, he firmly believes that the system is out of control and he’s willing to break some rules in order to find a way to fight the system (like finding an excuse to get into the headmistress’s home, so he could snoop around). However, unlike Kate, he seems to have a moral center. When the headmistress breaks down and tells Kate and the other teacher about how she was in this weird cycle of being bribed and blackmailed by the parents; Kate wanted to immediately send it to Gossip Girl; whereas the teacher points out that all they’d be doing would be ruining a woman’s career, without implicating the bigger culprits in the crime. And, while I don’t feel sorry for the headmistress, the teacher has a point that getting rid of her isn’t going change anything either. In fact, it might be better to have someone who feels guilty in that position, instead of someone who’s perfectly fine with it.

Opie’s back. Let’s be honest, would anybody have really been upset if Obie had been written out? I must admit, though, his girlfriend has grown on me a bit. Although I got to ask, is that the same actress? Because the character seems different. But it has been awhile since seeing the one episode she was in, so maybe I’m just misremembering things. I did like how she’s just trying to fit in with Opie’s friends and that leads, long story short, to a night where Max’s dads are having a dinner for a very bigoted woman because one of the dad’s wanted to be the one to redesign this park. Meanwhile, Max is trying to make Aki and Audrey happy by faking these casual sex moments in order to get Gossip Girl off their backs (although, guys, you don’t ask Max to do that. Not ok.) Anyway, it all leads to this moment where you have Obie, the girlfriend, Max, Audrey, Aki, the two dads, and Audrey’s mom confronting this horrible woman and pointing out that, what they actually have is this beautiful, supportive group/family who are just trying to do the best for each other because they all care for each other. It’s also this moment that makes Audrey and Aki realize that they don’t want to hide their relationship from anyone anymore.

Then there’s Shan’s family. Like I said, I’d like to know more about them. It’s mentioned that the family is rich, but they are very down to earth. At the very least, they seem to understand where Nick is coming from. And while I appreciate the mother pointing out that the dinner didn’t go well because they didn’t consider that Nick might have felt like they were looking down on him by not doing their usual routine (it’s always good to consider how your actions can influence outcomes); I will say that….Nick came in with an attitude. It didn’t matter what they did, he was going to find fault because he wanted to find fault. And, really, Nick needs to consider why his daughter wants to spend more time with them then him. Especially when it becomes clear that they know more about her interests then he does.

But we can’t end this without discussing Julien and Monet. It’s great that Monet knows Julien so well that she knew exactly what to do to get Julian to respond. But I love the fact that we find out that Monet knows Julien so well that she knew exactly what Julien would do to teach her a lesson and then circumvent that to make it look like Julien was doing it to get back at Monet. And then, when Julien tries to take the high ground and walk away, Monet stages it so that it looks like Julien pushed her into the pool. Monet being the villain is exactly what we need in this show.

#gossip girl #gossip girl spoilers #zoya lott #nick lott #aki menzies #julien calloway #audrey hope #max wolfe #luna la #monet de haan #obie bergmann iv #shan barnes

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ladylynse · 3 years ago

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Inspired by the DP/HP storyline idea of Danny as Draco's squib brother, but what if instead of being Draco's brother he was Draco's Uncle and thus Danny is Lucius' Squib Brother. Now this would require shuffling about the Fenton's and I think Dani would be a good stand in for the Danny of the canon generation, who is named after Danny, and Danny had grown up as the adopted brother of Jack Fenton. Danny gets his ghost powers by helping Jack build his first ghost portal in a junkyard and gets zapped for his troubles, while Jack goes on to redesign his idea Danny is off discovering his new ghost powers. Then one day while reading a letter from his niece Dani, Danny is whisked away by magic as Lucius needed another full blooded Malfoy for a ritual and his own son wasn't enough for what he needed and so he summoned his brother.

When I started reading this ask, I thought you were going to go with Jack or Vlad as Lucius's squib brother. *grins* But we'll go off Danny since that's your preference.

If both Danny and Dani have ghost powers in this AU and are aware of that, and if Dani also has magic, then she might panic a bit when she first gets the letter because she thinks it's a mistake. Once she accepts that it's real, anyway. If she doesn't have magic in this AU and doesn't get a letter from any school, then she'd serve as a more 'normal' centring point. The Fentons aren't normal, but if Danny had to pick for Dani to grow up with them or with the Malfoys, once he gets to know the Malfoys better, it's a fairly safe bet that he'd choose the Fentons.

If Danny knows he comes from a magical family, if he's aware of his history and all of that, he wouldn't be surprised by being whisked away, but I think he would be angry. They gave him up. They pretended he didn't exist. (I figure this is a safe assumption if they sent him to grow up in a different country.) Why would he want to help them? It would be different if he agreed with what they were trying to do, but with what they'd be pulling, he wouldn't. If he went along with it at all, it would only be so that he can utterly destroy whatever they're trying to do before they realize what he's up to.

If he doesn't know his history, and because he grew up with Jack and now has to deal with ghosts, he's going to assume it's a ghost thing, and he might still try to see all this magic stuff as ghost stuff as it slowly becomes abundantly clear that it's not. He still wouldn't play ball with any of this ritual stuff, but it would take him a little longer to realize what it meant and what's supposed to come with it. He'd fake it as best he could, but how good he is at that would depend a lot on what's changed for him by having him grow up with Jack Fenton as a brother as opposed to as his son. Jack would be easier to hide things from than Jazz, I think.

When it came down to it, though? He'd realize pretty quickly that if he's this guy's brother by blood, then that makes the guy's son his nephew, and it would take Danny about two seconds to decide that Draco shouldn't grow up with his father as his primary role model. There might be some kidnapping and escaping to the Ghost Zone going on, depending on how dire the situation is (and how dire Danny thinks the situation is), or it might be more of an observation and talking to Draco in secret so that he goes along with Danny more willingly. (Ripping him away from his family would not be the most effective way to get him on Danny's side so. That's only if it looks like he's in immediate danger. Draco, having grown up with this, wouldn't know it's not normal, that it's not expected, that it should be ringing all kinds of alarm bells, because it's just what's expected of him, and he's not going to respect or go along with Danny when he comes in immediately trying to destroy everything that Draco has held dear for so long.)

(other musings)

#danny phantom #harry potter #crossover #fic ideas #musings #ladylynse #asks

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rapifessor · 3 years ago

Text

Wanderer and Faruzan First Impressions

Wow, I wasn’t expecting I’d be doing another First Impressions on two BRAND NEW characters so soon. Actually... I tell a lie. One of these characters we have seen before, just not in their current form, and they are now known as the Wanderer.

I am of course talking about Scaramouche, whose debut as a playable character has been long-awaited since he first appeared all the way back in version 1.1, in the Unreconciled Stars event. He comes to us bearing a palette swap and... an Anemo Vision...?

Yeah, that does seem a bit odd. Fans of Scaramouche might be a little disappointed to see these changes, as this redesign is arguably less cool than his original getup, and the Anemo Vision is an odd choice. To me though it says a lot about his character development and there are some very notable differences between OG Scara and his new Wanderer design.

For starters, there’s a very strong implication that Scaramouche will either lose his memory or have a change of heart following the events of the upcoming Archon Quest, wherein I assume we’ll be kicking his ass with the help of Nahida. That’s the only explanation I can think of for why he’d go through such a drastic change and be willing to join the Traveler on their adventure.

Then there’s the matter of the Vision. You may have noticed its shape, which indicates that it was given to Scaramouche in Sumeru. Obviously this is a brand new Vision, and even more curious is that Scaramouche didn’t have a Vision before this. Which raises even more questions for me, like how was Scaramouche so powerful if he didn’t even have a Vision before? This is obviously the case while he’s a member of the Fatui Harbingers because he ranks higher than Signora, and Miko confirms this, even though she says it after she’s already given him the Gnosis.

In any case, I’m sure we’ll learn quite a lot from his inevitable Story Quest in version 3.3, including what exactly happened in the aftermath of our battle with him if it wasn’t already made clear. I’m also curious to see if his relationship to Ei gets brought up. Maybe they have a mother-son reunion or something, that’d be cute. We’ll just have to see though.

Okay, let’s have a look at our second reveal for version 3.3.

So here we have Faruzan, sporting an elegant white dress that is also surprisingly colorful. She doesn’t strike me in the same way that Layla did as a surprise reveal, but she is very pretty and also quite cute.

She is yet another Anemo Vision holder, making her the same as the Wanderer. Bit of an odd decision from HoYoverse here, adding two characters of the same element in one update. With Collei and Tighnari it made sense, because we didn’t have any Dendro characters prior to their arrival, but Anemo has been in the game since launch. Perhaps they’re trying to add some diversity to the element, pushing it away from the standard Elemental Mastery, succ, and just being very OP in general.

We’re given a little bit of information about Faruzan as well, as is the standard practice whenever HoYoverse reveals a new character. She’s a member of the Akademiya, known for assisting Kshahrewar students with their studies, although strangely she’s a member of the Haravatat Darshan. Yet, she is also shunned by the Haravatat for some unknown reason.

Faruzan is also apparently more than a century old, and she’s the first non-Archon, non-adeptus (and non-Khaenri’ah) character to my knowledge to sport such an impressive lifespan. Really makes you wonder how she does it, but she seems not to like it when you express surprise at her youth. Whatever it is, she clearly has some sort of secret.

There was a lot to unpack about our new reveals this time around, which has left me very interested in what their full stories are. If I had to choose one to gacha for based on first impressions alone, I’d probably go for Faruzan although she’s most likely a 4-Star character. I don’t have anything against Scaramouche but I dunno, he just doesn’t appeal to me that much. Definitely has cool lore though.

#genshin impact #first impressions #thoughts #analysis #rapifessor rambles #genshin impact 3.3 #scaramouche #faruzan #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact faruzan #scaramouche genshin impact #faruzan genshin impact #long post

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kemaono · 4 years ago

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hmmm!! since it seem's like vil is your favorite, how about vil comforting fem!reader who is afraid of storms!

summary: Vil comforting fem!Reader/MC (who is afraid of storms). warnings: not that I know of! word count: 700 (wowie!) mao's notes: [UNEDITED/NOT BETA READ!] You know! That reminds me of the storm we had the other night where I live, and the thunder and lightning sounded and felt so close, that was probably the first time I felt afraid of a storm! Anyways, onto your request! (thank you for requesting) Also~ Banner redesigns hehe! I hope you guys like the new ones. Song insp for this request [HERE], these are usually songs I listen to to get into the vibe of writing the said piece and or think that fits the theme.

You were walking down the school hallways with Vil when you glanced outside the window and noticed the dark grey lumpy clouds that blanketed the sky. It looks like it's about to storm. You never expected it to storm today. The weather did a whole 180 on you when you thought it was going to remain clear and sunny for the rest of the day. Out of nowhere, it becomes hard to swallow and everything seems rushed and jittery. You were getting anxious to the point your palms were getting clammy and your heart felt like it was about to burst out from your chest. You haven't told Vil yet... You haven't told him you were uneasy around storms but specifically the loud booming of thunder. Then, there it was, the loud crash of lightning followed by delayed thunder within the distance. You couldn't help but jolt right into Vil, hiding your face away from the world.

"Hey now-" Vil began. You could feel his slender body shift ever so slightly, struggling to do so at the same time to look at you. He noticed that your face was tucked away in between his shoulder blades. "Are you alright?" You hear the slight worry in his voice.

Unable to speak a word, you shook your head. Even though you couldn't see him you could tell he was raising his brow slightly at you, wondering what on Great Seven was wrong with you. It wasn't hard to figure out that you were dealing with fear and he connected the two. "Are you afraid of storms, potato?" He asked. Unsure whether to answer for the sake of your pride, you hesitantly nod your head. "Ah~ I see."

He wasn't going to judge you for it. He was just confused by the sudden jolt right into him and why you didn't feel comfortable in telling him before. But he understood that it was not his matter to pry into your fears. You have to open up to him with that after all and he was willing to wait for you to bloom in order to learn much more about you.

You could feel him lean back a bit to adjust himself to face you. His hand was on the back of your head, at first it sat there unsure what to do. Then, it began stroking the back of your head in a vertical motion. He welcomed you back into hiding your face away from him, this time where he could at least see most of you. The strokes of his hand on the back of your head in a combination with the waft of the perfume on his body created comfort to ease your nerves. Then it struck Vil, he knew how to calm you down.

"Let's go back to Pomefiore dorms." He began. "Would you like to watch a few movies I've starred in with me?" Without hesitation, you nodded your head, and with a small happy sigh you never thought would escape his lips, you knew it was smiling. "Let's go then, we have a lot to watch this evening."

Anything to soothe and distract you from this incoming storm. Anything to keep it off your mind...

You two watch movies back in his room, snuggled up against each other while watching. Who knows, he might do some skincare both on him and you to get you distracted more and healthy snacks might be involved as well. He made sure to keep a conversation while you two are watching the movies he starred in. Of course not too much though to distract you from watching the movies. Vil tells you about each role he played and other actors that played with him for the movie and a small little summary without spoiling anything before the movie starts. Your favorite movie with Vil in it would be one where he played the hero and Neige played the villain. The combination of movies, conversations, skincare, snacking, and finally resting with Vil definitely soothed your nerves in the end. You easily forgot that there was even a bad storm the next day because you had such a wonderful time being distracted by Vil!

#vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil x mc #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #scenario #twst scenarios #fem!reader #compositions from the attic #anonymous #lol i wrote this at 5am so please forgive the errors.#i've been trying to reset my sleep schedule recently but its failing miserably LOL.#vil schoenheit x reader

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dragon-kazansky · 4 years ago

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 8

Helmut Zemo was waiting outside of the airport with his car. He parked as close as he could to the doors, right where you should be able to see him when you came out.

It had been a month. You had gone back home to sort out your affairs, with the help of your darling friend Wanda Maximoff, and had done everything you needed to. Things you had sent over were now tucked away safely at home.

Your home. The one you would now share with him.

He checked his watch for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. He had closed up the restaurant today, wanting to spend it all with you. He just wanted you back in his arms.

Every time the doors opened he would wat h the crowds with Ken eyes, waiting. Yet, you hadn't come out. He sighed as he waits.

Both you and Wanda assured him you would arrive in time. You were even bringing another friend to stay a while.

Over the last month you had been constantly messaging and calling one another. Mostly about all these plans you had cor the restaurant, but also about the two of you.

Helmut promised that once you had moved in, he would spoil you. He was going to make you so very happy.

The doors opened again. His eyes focused on the crowd. His heart began to race and his lips curled into a smile.

There you were. Just as beautiful as he remembered.

Your eyes found his. Friends instantly forgotten, you run toward him. Helmut pushes off his car, opens his arms wide, and meets you about halfway. You collide into him. His arms are instantly wrapped around you and his lips claim yours.

Wanda and Natasha stand by, watching you.

Natasha had heard lots about this Helmut Zemo. Though Wanda was your best friend, Natasha was a special friend too. She was protective over you and wanted to meet the man who had stolen your heart.

Wanda coughs loudly.

You pull away from Zemo, but kept your arms around him, turning to look at your friends with a sheepish smile.

Helmut wasn't even looking at your friends. He could see only you.

"This is Natasha, my other friend. I've told her all about you," you say, looking at him.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, glancing at her. She nods.

"Likewise."

His eyes turns back to you and he has that goofy smile on his face again. He unlocks the car and let's you all in, obviously with you sitting upfront with him.

"Any news on Stark?" You ask, once the car sets off.

"He is doing well. His restaurant is a success."

"And Escorpión Morado?"

"Still open."

You don't like the look on his face or the tone of his voice.

"Helmut?"

He glances at you.

"Stark is stealing my customers. Business is declining and I don't think we have much time before it's out of control."

You look at him, lips tugging into a frown.

"Good thing I'm here then."

He glances at you again, his own lips curling into a smile.

"Yes. It is."

He drives you to the apartment, the girls follow you both up to where Zemo lives and you all enter the main living space.

"My new home."

Helmut comes up behind you and snakes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He kisses your cheek and then rests his head in your shoudler.

"Our home."

Wanda taps Natasha on the shoulder and they make their leave, going to stay at the hotel. Once the door closes behind them, Helmut turns you around and kisses you again.

"Welcome home."

You smile softly.

"Thank you."

You were a Sokovian citizen now. It was a lot more straightforward than you had thought.

You're very happy to be here.

"So, the restaurant. I take it it's not open today."

"No. I let Sam and James have the day off so I could meet you and bring you home. Your things are in your room."

"Thank you, but still, are you prepared to go through with this?" You ask.

"Yes. Help me save my restaurant. I need you."

You smile.

"I know you do."

You take both of his hands in yours and hold them, squeezing them lightly.

He smiles handsomely at you. He's never felt so lucky in his life before.

"Where do you want to get started?" You ask.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, obviously the menu is important, but what if we start planning the new look for your restaurant. Let's show Stark that with have both good taste in food and interior design. I was doing some shopping and found a fee things. Want to check them out?"

He nods. You ask him to take a seat while you fetch your laptop. You open it on the table in front of you, as you sit next to him.

You're sitting nice and close. His arm settled right next to yours. His knee nudges yours lightly as he rests his elbows on his open lap.

You open up all the tabs you had saved.

"You really have been doing your research," he chuckles.

"I have. New furniture, new floors, new decor and lights. You can pick everything, it is your restaurant. Remember, we're not replacing the restaurant, we are sprucing it up, giving it a new look."

He smiles softly as he looks at you.

"Well, take a look, Helmut."

He turns his eyes back to the laptop, wishing to look at you little longer. He scrolls theough the choices and you make notes on all the things he likes. You help him because what looks good with what, and before you know, you can almost see how it will look.

A couple hours later you get a message on your phone.

Wanda: Breaking in the mattress yet? ;)

You: OMG, WANDA, STOP!

Wanda: What have you been doing then?

You: Redesigning the restaurant. What about you and Nat?

Wanda: Drinks!

You roll your eyes and reply:

You: Not surprised. Have fun! See you later.

You put your phone down and ignore any incoming messages after that.

"Are you hungry?" Helmut asks, raising from the sofa.

"Yeah, actually."

He holds out his hand. You take it and let him pull you up and lead you into the kitchen. He only let's go of your hand to grab his apron and put it on. He then, very smoothly, moves around the kitchen grabbing ingredients.

"What are you making?"

"Schnitzel," he grins at you.

"Is there anything you can't cook?" You chuckle. It's very clear this man has done some globe trotting of his own.

"Many things, but I can also make many things too," he winks at you as he sets up a pan, ready for cooking.

You come to stand beside him. He presents two pieces of pork which he quickly works on pounding thinly. He sprinkles them with salt and pepper.

"Have you ever had schnitzel?"

"No. Which I should be ashamed of considering I have been to Germany."

"Then it will be my honour to give you your ever first!"

You chuckle softly.

He slides over to the empty space of his counter and puts down a bowl and two plates. One plate with flour and salt, the bowl with eggs which he let's you beat, and the final plate with breadcrumbs.

This man's own kitchen is stocked with everything he could need. As you look at him in his own kitchen, which you suppose you can also call your own now, you realise just how much he loves cooking.

"I'll do the first one, you can do the second one, alright?"

You nod.

You watch as he picks up the first piece of pork. He coats it in flour on both side, then into the egg on both sides, and then into the breadcrumbs. He shakes off any excess and pops it into the pan he prepared.

"You next."

You pick up the other piece and do exactly as he had done. Into the flour, into the egg, into the breadcrumbs. You shake off the excess like he had done and he steps back as you place it in the pan.

What you didn't expect was for him to cage you in. He lifts one of your hands to the pan and stands right behind you as you now both cook.

You can hear his soft breathing in your ear. The hand he has resting on your hip make your spine tingle. You're very much aware of how close he is to you.

His lips brush against your ear.

You shiver involuntarily.

He chuckles softly, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Before you can think too much about what he's doing, he promptly take the schnitzel out of the pan and onto a plate with paper towels on it. He leaves you rather quickly, going to pick up some leafy salad from fridge.

You take a deep breath and try to keep your composure. God, the way he makes you feel!

He returns and plates up the schnitzel, slicing a lemon and placing the slices on top of each one, serving with a bit of the salad.

He turns to you with a smile.

"Schnitzel."

You chuckle and take one of the plates. You both sit down and tuck in. Once again you're left blown away by this man's skill, but there was also the fact you helped.

Zemo makes a low moan after eating some of his.

"This is good."

"I should hope so, you made it."

He chuckles, looking at you.

"Actually you did. This is the one you prepared."

You look down at his plate. He had purposely taken the one you had done. You smile softly.

"You're eating my one?"

"Yes."

You bite your lip shyly. Once again he leaves you a shy blushing mess.

When you finished eating, Helmut cleaned up, though you did make a fuss about helping him. After losing that little argument, you headed to your room.

For a spare room it was big enough for you. You could fit in quite nicely here. You unpacked your cases and spent a bit of time planning on where this is would go or what you would need to buy. This was your space. You would make it your own.

A knock on the door had you sitting up on your bed. Your handsome chef enters the room and smiles at you.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"I like it."

Helmut sits down on the bed with you and pus you into his side. You cuddle against him, feeling content.

"I'll get to see you every day now."

You chuckle softly.

"Yes. Lucky bastard, aren't you?"

"I'd say so."

You kiss him softly. He places a hand on your cheek and looks at you with the softest gaze.

He almost wants to say it.

He doesn't.

Not yet.

You smile softly as you close your eyes and sit with him in the quiet room.

Today is the beginning of the next chapter of your lives.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @swooning-for-mc-avoy @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #marvel #au #chef zemo au

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esmealux · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!

Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!

And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.

Hope you like this!

Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!

Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)

Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'

Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!

Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)

It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.

If Lucifer would just show up.

She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.

Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤

And one more.

Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*

Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.

She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?

She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.

‘My me, Detective!’

His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.

‘You look like a goddess.’

Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.

‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.

Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.

There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.

She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.

It simply says, ‘I love you.’

Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.

‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.

A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.

‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.

The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’

He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.

‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’

A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.

‘Well, this one is special.’

Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.

‘Oh.’

He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).

‘You remember?’

She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.

She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.

‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.

Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.

‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’

He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.

‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’

Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’

His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.

Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’

He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’

She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.

‘You too, baby.’

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.

‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.

In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—

‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’

He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.

‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.

‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’

They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.

‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’

Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.

‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.

Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’

Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.

‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.

Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.

‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’

Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.

Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.

‘What?’ he asks, curious.

She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’

He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’

‘Mm-hm.’

The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.

But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.

He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.

But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.

So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.

And it’s a really, really nice date.

They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.

They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.

They talk about Dan.

About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.

About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.

They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.

They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.

They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.

Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.

‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.

He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.

‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’

Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.

She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.

The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.

‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’

He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.

‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.

He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.

She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.

Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.

He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.

‘There’s something we never got to try.’

Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.

‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.

He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’

And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.

Chloe smothers a gasp.

‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’

He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’

Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-

‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’

‘Lucifer, no.’

Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.

‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.

They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.

‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.

A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’

He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’

And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.

In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.

On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-

But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.

With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.

‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’

He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.

‘After you, darling.’

Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.

He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.

‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’

She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.

‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’

Chloe scoffs.

‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.

‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’

He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.

‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’

She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.

He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-

‘God, yes.’

He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.

Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.

Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’

The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.

He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.

‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.

He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.

‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.

He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.

‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.

He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-

‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.

He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.

‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.

‘You too, baby.’

She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.

Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.

Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’

And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.

He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.

He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.

‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’

He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.

‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.

It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.

‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.

His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.

‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’

She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.

‘Close,’ she breathes.

He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.

‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’

‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’

Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.

They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’

She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.

‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.

‘Maybe you even like me?’

She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.

‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’

She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)

‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.

‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.

‘Anything for you, my love.’

The door shuts with a gentle click behind them.

#writing #deckerstar fanfiction #deckerstar #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer on netflix #fluff #smut #established deckerstar #lucifer is god #post 5b #post s5 #two part drabble game

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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in your own way

so someone sent me this idea and I thought it was really cute and wanted to do it as a blurb but then I got all confused so it’s very shite and I can only apologise. also I am not no genius so pretending to be one was literally just putting words together they make no sense ahaha

Summary: tom gets self conscious of his intelligence compared to you

(bit of angst but mainly fluff ;))

tomhollandxreader

The doorbell ringing through the couch grabbed the attention of all five of you, your heads all whipping towards the door the round to each other. You’d already got the pizza (had demolished it too) and nobody had ordered any desserts - at least that you knew of. It had been a rather tame evening, your four uni mates all stuffed into you cosy but homely studio flat. Lix had just moved to London and had wanted some help with a new project that she couldn’t afford to cock up at her new job. So, assembling the ‘dream team’ back from simpler days, you were all crouched down over many print outs - trying to puzzle your way through how the plans could be redesigned to make the invention much more ergonomic.

“Don’t stop working!” The four around you all just groaned in return, Josh lightheartedly slapping your leg as you skipped over him. Laughing at their exhausted and almost beaten brains , you jumped up and hopped toward the door frame, picking a discarded pizza box off up the floor and onto the countertop on your way. As you reached the door you tightened your hair in the scrunch before painting a welcoming smile on your face and opening the door. Whatever you had been expecting, it was definitely not what you saw.

Warm brown ochre eyes, a mischievous grin and a bunch of beautifully arrange yellow and white flowers.

“TOM!”

Squealing his names, your body apparently decided to ignore the flowers he was grasping to his front, still choosing to throw your arms around his neck and pull him close - the precious petals squashed between your two bodies.

“God I’ve missed you!” He grinned into the side of your head, only stopping to press multiple kisses to the side of your face till you arched back and met him with your own lips.

“Thought we were meeting tomorrow? You asked against his lips, with a little smirk - you could have a pretty good guess as to why. He had just returned from a long shoot abroad and had planned on spending the evening with his parents and brothers, then in the morning the idea was for you to go get breakfast together. You would never dream of competing for his affection against his family, so had been more than happy to give them a day with their eldest back before you saw Tom. It was still early days in your relationship anyway, you actually only been a couple and in the same country for a matter of weeks, but of course the time he was away you made time for the long distance phone calls and FaceTimes.

“Mhmm well I just kept imagining you in a cold lonely bed and it’s not like I’m gonna let them all hop into my bed for quality time is it?”

“Well you are close!” Giggling back, Tom playfully gasped before releasing his one arm from round your waist - both of you chuckling at the crumpled flowers. You stepped aside to let him in, in all the excitement forgetting you weren’t alone until you turned around and were met with four pairs of beady eyes staring at you. Because yes perhaps it had slipped your mind to mention to them you had a boyfriend of six months, especially forgetting to tell Josh - who you had a complicated history with to say the least.

Cursing under your breath, you watched Tom freeze up, clearly shocked by the fact you had company too. He hadn’t met many of your friends, purely because you and him were still on the downlown. Not that that particularly mattered with these 4, you were more than certain they would have no idea who he was - as Lix had said before ‘superhero movies are just stupid peoples version of research papers. Innovative and exciting, except papers don’t require the variables to beat each other up to keep their audience entertained.”

So tom’s reputation wasn’t the issue in this situation…. Instead your ex boyfriend meeting his replacement. Josh could be cruel too when he was jealous, even if it had been a year and a half since you’d called your brief relationship quits, it was evident he still wasn’t completely over you either. The amount of drunken calls asking for a hookup was evidence of that.

You’d been almost transparent with Tom, he knew this name ‘josh’ was your ex, he was aware you were still friends and hang out. He didn’t know about the 3am booty calls but that was just to protect everyone, no other hidden agenda. He’d always regret it in the morning and beg for your forgiveness so it appeared very much to be a subconscious thought only copious amounts of alcohol could release.

“Sorry I didn’t know you had-“

“No no” You interrupted Tom, grabbing the flowers and placing them on the counter, ontop of the pizza boxes, before reaching out and squeezing his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, let me introduce you guys.”

Following that preceded an awkward taking turns of hand shakes and small talk, though you were acutely aware of Tom’s tightening grip round your waist when the blue eyes boy introduced himself as ‘Josh’ - and in fact every time he spoke thereafter.

The small talk was nice enough, the group of you all resumed your positions on the floor with Tom now squiggled between you and you painfully awkward ex flatmate Will. In fact it was all going oh so well till Lix opened her big bloody mouth.

“So Tom, what do you do?”

He immediately tensed against your side, you saw his eyes widening with shock. Instantly reading him, you realised Tom was shocked by the fact they didnt know.

And he was! He assumed they hadn’t mentioned it purely out of respect, not wanting to make the situation awkward. They were, as you’d summarised to Tom before, nerds. As you were - no nerd shaming here. But this type of people were normally primed marvel superfans, or at least had some sort of awareness- so he was surprised to say the least.

“Oh uh I…. I’m an actor”

“Oh really?” Josh’s eyes widened and he smirked. You knew , you knew what was coming. “So you convinced Y/n that drama’s a good thing? She used to absolutely hate everything when we had to do it at college.”

“I hated drama classes, that doesn’t mean I hate the whole entertainment industry dickhead!” You tried to joke, tried to lighten the mood.

“Uh well she’s supportive of my stuff and I’m supportive of hers it doesn’t mean I have to like neuroscience either.”

“Neurobiologist. You’re a neurobiologist right Y/n?” For fuck sake. Will had no intention behind it at all. He was just oblivious to people and was so upfront at times it was painful, even if underneath it all he was the sweetest person you’d ever met. Watching Tom out the corner of your eye swallow thickly as he tried to compose himself you quickly worked to diffuse the situation.

“Yeh but it’s kind of the same thing isn’t it? I say either or a lot!” Josh took a swig of his half drunk beer before nodding at Tom.

“Acting though… it’s impressive. I definitely wouldn’t be able to persevere through all the rejection though, seems cut throat to try and make it in.” There Josh goes. Tom shifted, his hand dropping from you side and his eyes fixed on the beer bottle you’d given to him as he smirked.

“Yeh well the rejections hard when I was younger but I get that less now. Now I get to reject the parts I don’t like which makes it all so worth it.”

Josh’s face morphed just slightly in pain, as the penny somewhat dropped. Apparently Tom wasn’t the aspiring actor working 3 jobs between failed audition as he had assumed. Just as you were getting bloody desperate, a literal light went off in your head, shooting your back straight as you rifled through the haphazardly spread papers in front of you - the groups focus now away from the obvious tension between Tom and Josh.

“Y/n what do you need?” Lix asked slowly realising you might’ve just found the answer and not wanting to disturb the thought process. After asking for a pen and triumphantly ‘ah’-ing when you found the right plan you looked up with glee evident in your eyes first to Lix, then Will, then Sophie, then Josh.

“We’ve been missing the whole point the whole bloody time. Look!” You jabbed your pen at an intricate diagram “It’s so bulky because we’ve been going on this assumption we need a battery and recharging ports but if we take that component out-“

“Then you just need a transformer for there” Will joined in with a sparkle in his eyes, him being the first to click where you were going with this.

“Exactly! And then size is no longer an issue and by placing an external detachable unit-“

“Y/N YOU GENIUS” “fuck that’s good” Lix exclaimed an dsimultaneously Josh much more inwardly praised your ingenious.

“We got it!” Laughing back, you encouraged all of them to join in with, noting down all the necessary inputs and outputs and components necessary to form a vague redesign.

Though it felt no time at all, the 5 of you consumed in mumbling through thought processes and logic of trying to actualise your theory, in reality it was almost 45 minutes before Lix leaned back with a relieved sigh. Announcing that you’d saved the day, she called time on the night, relieved that she could sleep worry free that night. You made light work between all of you of clearing her stuff up and saying goodbye to all of them with brief hugs. In all honesty, you were so in the zone you’d completely forgotten about Tom, who you were only alerted to when Lix went over to the kitchen to say bye as well. He’d obviously been there for sometime, clearing up all the greasy plates and pizza boxes, the flowers now sat in a vase in their full glory - or at least what was left of them after the crush injury.

This wave of insurmountable guilt washed over you, realising he’d come here after only spending a couple of hours with his family after a long haul flight home to fall asleep with you in his arms. Instead, he’d faced your rude ex, been ignored for the majority of the time he was here and he’d done the washing up. You fucked up.

Choosing till you’d finally ushered Will and Josh out, promising Will you would go and see their new shared flat soon, you closed the door slowly - knowing this wasn’t going to be simple.

You walked up and leant against the kitchen counter, watching him place the last two mugs in the top drawer of the dishwasher before pushing it closed and then closing the appliance door too.

“Thankyou for doing all this. You really didn’t have to.” He didn’t make eye contact, moving about the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink opposite. “And I’m really sorry I-I was gonna usher them out but the I worked it out and kind of got overexcited.”

“Mhmm … for an hour?” It was a rhetorical question and although he said it very quietly you knew he was demanding an answer.

“I know I know I’m a shitty girlfriend, I should’ve sent them away as soon as you got here. I am so so so sorry.” That statement was left in silence for a few, painful moments.

“I was the one who showed up here. Don’t worry about it.” It was muttered and god only know you were still very worried about it.

“No Tom I was a dickhead you have a right to be ang-“

“It doesn’t matter!” If it didnt matter, why the hell was was he answering so grumpily.Turning back around to you with a sigh, he spoke with shoulders slumped. “Look… lets just go to sleep yeh? I’ve had a long ass day.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk, you weren’t about the force him too - so with a small nod you half heartedly agreed. You knew you would have to address it at some point, but apparently now wasn’t the right time.

So without much more conversation the two of you got ready for bed, even if the atmosphere felt jilted and cold. It was rehearsed, this wasn’t not the first time he’d stayed over so like a rehearsed scene the two of you got ready and then wormed your way underneath the sheets. You waited for him to make the first move, which of course he did. Pulling you into his bare chest which you happily obliged to, your leg wrapping round his as you nuzzled into his chest. Both softly whispering ‘goodnight’ your eyes closed as you tried to sleep.

Except it didnt work and wasn’t going to. Mainly because Tom’s heartbeat was thundering right under your ear. So you were hardly surprised when he whispered in the quiet.

“Do we work?”

“What?” You arched up, a hand on his chest as your head hovered over his - your eyes burning into his in the dim light of the street lights. He sighed heavily, shaking his head and trying to avoid your gaze.

“I just- we have so little in common”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. I have no idea about even what you do! Seeing you with all of them tonight… you were enjoying talking about stuff I could never ever understand!”

“I don’t have a clue about scene direction or physical acting does that make you dislike me?”

“No course not!” He argued huffily, making you sit up in frustration and reach over to turn the bedside light on.

“Then will you please explain what is going on?”

“Just… just look I know intelligence is attractive and-and well you are and I’m not.”

That physically hurt you hearing him be so self conscious in front of. Clearly, you had made him feel like pure shit this evening and that guilt would surely eat you up later - but right now the focus was purely on making him feel assured of his own mind-blowing talents.

“Tom…it’s not intelligence that’s attractive! You know…” You sighed, how the hell were you going to explain to him how much you LOVED HIM.liked him, you hadn’t said that yet. “You know when you’re reading a script that’s good your mouth move along as if your living and breathing every single word. And you completely are oblivious to anything around Tom, I always thought if someone crashed into the house you wouldn’t notice cos your so into it. And then when your finally finished with it, no matter what time of the day or night, you’lll be like this excited puppy running in to tell me all about it. Or-or when you’ve visited a children’s hospital and you phone me bouncing off the walls, full of stories of how these kids inspire you….” Trailing off, you looked intently between both of his two brown eyes. “Thats passion right? And ambition?” He nodded minutely. “Thats what’s so bloody attractive. For all I care, you could be a supermarket shelf restocker if that’s what your passionate about and you would still be the most incredible person to me. I love your passion you idiot, I don’t care if you don’t know stupid facts about astrophysics or where in the brain control movement of your big toe! In your own way your so bloody clever and I love you because of you and your passion you idiot.”

“Seriously?” You nodded profusely at his whisper, now cupping both hands round his cheeks. “You seriously think…. I’m like a puppy?”

There was your boyfriend again, grinning from ear to ear as you giggled at him.

“Yes you most definitely are.” He gasped in fake shock, before pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours. Now straddled over his body with the duvet weighing down on your back as you tasted the minty toothpaste still fresh on his lips. After a short while you once again settled back down on his chest, feeling much more warm than mere moments ago, and confident that Tom was reassured and happy once again.

The silence lasted long enough for you to be slowly drifting off before a deep rumble had you blinking your eyes open, eyelashes dragging against his shoulder as you tried to focus on his voice.

“By the way…” Tom dragged it out, making you hum in encouragement as you listened to his slightly hoarse and sleepy sounding voice “in your big soliloquy just then… you said you love me?” You froze, desperately trying to claw a good answer or cover up. Completely failing, you went for the next best and oddly relevant statement.

“I don’t know what solliquarity means because its an actory word so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Solliliquy darling… but for the record, and I hope you understand this… I love you too.”

#tom holland fluff #tom holland #tomholland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland angst

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 4 years ago

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Modern Munkustraps and Why 2016 Misto Is Boring (And Also Why Tugger Is Less Good Now)

So, yeah, this is a very long, poorly edited essay that is basically just me writing down a bunch of feelings about the Broadway Revival and why it doesn’t work for me. Of course, it’s not the worst thing out there and everyone can like what they like, but here’s one big reason why I don’t like this particular thing.

So, I’ve mentioned that, having seen the whole thing, I don’t particularly like the 2016 Broadway Revival of Cats. I adore the cast, I appreciate the effort everyone clearly put into it, and some individual numbers work well enough out of context, but it’s a case of strong parts forming a weak whole.

One of the problems I had with it was with the character of Mistoffelees. It should be clear to anyone looking around this blog that Mistoffelees is my favorite character in the show. I hate insulting any Mistoffelees, which is why 2019 Mistoffelees frustrates me so much. The moment I realized I’d become a fan of Cats was when I was genuinely angry when I learned that Tom Hooper cast a non-dancer as Mistoffelees. Basically, problems with Mistoffelees will motivate me to rant.

In 2016, the problem with Mistoffelees isn’t the choreography. I prefer the original to the new stuff, but Misto’s material was fine. Ricky Ubeda completely nailed the dance part of the role. Broadway Revival Misto is still worlds above Tom Hooper’s Misto in every way. Really, the problem with 2016 Misto is that it often feels like he isn’t there. He has very little presence. His dancing is impressive, and his dynamic with Tugger is cute and fun, but he has no real personality outside of it. I don’t know how he feels about any character other than Tugger. There are no moments that center around him other than his dance solos. He doesn’t seem to have much of an arc when it comes to saving the day at the end. Is he already confident in his magical abilities? Is he still unsure of himself? Is he trying to prove himself? How does he feel about anything that happens to or around him?

As a show with a large ensemble cast, it’s impossible for every single character to feel fully developed. But, in shows/stories with large ensemble casts, there are always a few characters who stand out. Instead of a single protagonist with one big arc, you have several main characters with their own small arcs. Munkustrap is the group’s leader who has to fight to defend his tribe. Demeter has survived an abusive relationship and she confronts her abuser and starts to move on, finding a potential partner who she can trust. In the 1998 film, at least, Mungojerrie has an interesting arc. He used to work for Macavity, but he left. When Macavity shows up, Jerrie’s terrified of him. He knows what he’s capable of and probably witnessed some really messed up shit. But, when Munkustrap is wounded and Alonzo is struggling to fight Macavity on his own, Jerrie is the first cat to join the fight. He doesn’t do very well, but this inspires other cats to help out as well, and Macavity is eventually outnumbered and forced to flee.

Mistoffelees is another character with an arc. He’s coming of age, no longer a child but not really an adult either. He’s trying to prove himself and be seen as an adult. He has magical powers, but he still struggles to control them and doesn’t know exactly what he’s capable of. Outside of magic and dancing, he’s awkward and doesn’t fit in socially with neither the kittens nor the adults.

When Old Deuteronomy is kidnapped, and everything seems hopeless, Mistoffelees really isn’t participating in the action. Although he’s publicly done magic before and other cats have noticed, Tugger’s suggestion that Mistoffelees might be able to help is dismissed by most of the group at first. But, Tugger is completely confident in Misto’s abilities. He’s the first cat to believe in him that much. Tugger hypes up Misto and his confidence builds until he’s willing to try using magic to bring Old Deuteronomy back and succeeds. He’s a hero now, and he’s known to have a skill that no one else possesses. He’s respected by the tribe. As someone who can be consulted in emergencies, Mistoffelees can now be seen as an adult.

Now, Mistoffelees didn’t always have this arc. The Originial Broadway Misto comes across as completely confident in his abilities the whole time. Actors who played Misto in the 80s tended to play him as the same age as Munkustrap, already one of the adults and already established in the tribe. But, starting in the early 90s, some actors started to play Misto younger and less secure. By the time the filmed 1998 production was done, that had become the standard way to play Misto. I think the actors cast in the role wanted to make things more interesting, since Misto getting Old Deuteronomy back is a bit of an anticlimax. There’s a problem. It’s solved immediately. On with the show. But this was a big, spectacle-heavy number near the end of the show. It feels like it should mean something, but it just doesn’t. Old Deuteronomy is easily returned to the tribe and then Memory happens and makes everything else seem meaningless.

But, what if Mister Mistoffelees wasn’t about getting Old Deuteronomy back? What if Mister Mistoffelees was actually about Mister Mistoffelees. Having the song be a moment when a young cat comes of age makes it feel like the song means something, even if the stuff with Old Deuteronomy is anticlimactic. Since it happens late in the show, there’s plenty of time to build up to it. Misto is on stage for most of the musical. His character can be established. We can see him trying to prove himself and failing to socially connect with the other cats. So, when he does prove himself and he does gain the approval of the cats who dismissed him as a weirdo, it’s satisfying. The song has a bigger impact when Mistoffelees is portrayed as a young man coming of age.

So, what does any of this have to do with the Broadway Revival? Why does the title of this essay mention Munkustrap when the essay itself is mostly about Mistoffelees?

Well, it’s because Revival Era Munkustraps have stolen Misto’s character arc.

The Broadway Revival isn’t the only version of Cats to do this. Tecklenburg actually constructs the story around it, making Munkustrap the protagonist. It seems like the changes to Munkustrap’s character started to appear when the show started getting revived. When I say Revival Era, I mean every version of Cats put on after the London Revival in 2014, though there are naturally some outliers. This was when Grizabella was redesigned and rewritten. This was when an attempt was made to redesign and rewrite Tugger, which was thankfully abandoned soon after.

Before this era, it wasn’t really confirmed to the general public that Munkustrap and Tugger were Old Deuteronomy’s sons. They were still often portrayed that way, but it wasn’t something anyone thought viewers needed to know. The dynamic between Munkustrap and Tugger began to change now that everyone was expected to view them as siblings. Tugger, instead of messing with every authority figure on stage, now tends to single Munkustrap out. He wants to annoy his older sibling. The Tecklenburg non-replica didn’t even bother showing anyone but Munkustrap being frustrated with Tugger’s antics. The vibe you get in these productions is that Munkustrap is the older sibling who is left in charge while Dad’s not home and he’s trying to be responsible, while Tugger, as the younger sibling, is constantly messing around and annoying him.

Compare how Munkustrap and Tugger interacted during Tugger’s number in 1998 vs. 2016. In both versions, Tugger crashes the party and Munkustrap is not amused. But, in 1998, Munkustrap stands back and waits for Tugger to basically get all that rebellious energy out of his system. If he has a few moments to run wild, he’ll calm down and act up less later on. So, Munkustrap just waits it out. As for Tugger, he never directly targets Munkustrap when he’s messing with the authority figures. He targets Jenny and Jelly, and Skimble by proxy, but he leaves Munkustrap alone. Both brothers have some silent agreement not to get in each other’s way.

In 2016, most of the moments where Tugger messes with an authority figure have Munkustrap as that authority figure. He’s more focused on annoying his brother than anyone else. He and Munkustrap are sort of bickering throughout the song, with Munkustrap being one of the cats who gets the “terrible bore” line. 1998 Munkustrap wouldn’t do this. He doesn’t get the “terrible bore” line because he’s too mature to insult Tugger like that. Instead, Misto, a more immature character does it.

These two different dynamics imply that Munkustrap and Tugger are in different age groups. 1998 Munkustrap tries to take the high road when Tugger crashes the party and Tugger has enough respect for him not avoid targeting him personally. The only exception is with the bagpipes in The Pekes and the Pollicles, and he was mostly doing that to entertain the others. He starts a dance party and then gets disappointed when it doesn’t work a second time. Munkustrap was already being annoyed by everything else that was going on as well, so Tugger’s antics don’t stand out in that regard. The vibe you get is that, though Tugger does like teasing Munkustrap a bit, they have a mutual respect for one another that they both take seriously. They’re both adults, too mature to bicker.

When Tugger targets Munkustrap with his antics and Munkustrap tries to argue back, they come across like two kids bickering. They both seem younger. This means that, in general, 2016 Munkustrap is played younger than 1998 Munkustrap. 2016 Munkustrap’s arc is about him learning to be a good leader, probably hosting the ball for the first time. He wants everything to be perfect so he can prove himself to his father. His defending the tribe and being willing to give Grizabella a chance are moments when Munkustrap begins to come of age.

So, 2016 Munkustrap’s arc is that he’s a young man, just coming of age, trying to prove himself, and eventually doing so. It’s not identical to Misto’s arc, but it’s pretty close.

And this is why 2016 Misto fails to stand out. Munkustrap’s arc makes Misto’s feel redundant, so he doesn’t have it. 2016 Misto already has Tugger supporting him from the very start and never feels like he lacks confidence. But, with Misto’s arc given to Munkustrap, nothing was put in its place, so Misto no longer has an arc. You don’t have scenes of him trying to appear mature and sophisticated around Bustopher, or his awkward attempt to help Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap defend the tribe when Macavity’s around, or any of those other little moments that give Misto personality, because he no longer has the arc that those scenes are part of. There’d be no pay-off.

Honestly, the biggest problem with this isn’t that Munkustrap is different, but that his character was given this story and the expense of another character’s arc. Munkustrap already had a smaller arc that took a backseat to his role as storyteller and protector. He’s already the perfect leader, with his only flaw being his grudge against Grizabella. The main thing Munkustrap has to learn is the moral of the entire play. Outside of that, he’s the narrator and the straight man in the more comedic numbers.

This change also isn’t very good for Tugger. Tugger is not really a character with an arc. He doesn’t change any more than anyone else does. What changes, is how the audience, and some of the other characters, perceive him. In his own number, he’s fun, but he also comes across as a bit of a jerk. He doesn’t care what other people think of him, but that means he doesn’t seem to care about upsetting them either. His interactions with his fans sometimes demonstrate this. He just casually knocks over Tumblebrutus and Pouncival, briefly uses the latter as a chair, and then knocks them over again. Tumblebrutus and Pouncival both think Tugger is awesome, so they don’t mind, but that’s not a very nice way to treat kids who look up to you, even if they don’t mind.

But, then we get to Old Deuteronomy. Tugger appears again, interrupting Munkustrap, apparently being rude again, but then you hear what he’s actually saying. He’s also narrating about and praising Old Deuteronomy. At first, it’s kind of funny, because he’s just talking about how Old D got around, but then you get this line:

And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives And the village is proud of him in his decline

When he mentions “numerous progeny” he gestures over the crowd, ending on Munkustrap. He’s one of those numerous progeny, but he never gestures to himself. He never references himself as Old Deuteronomy’s son, but he does mention Munkustrap. This is followed by “and the village is proud of him”. After the “numerous progeny” line, it’s an awkward circle back to the main topic. But, Tugger seems to address Munkustrap as he says this. In his own way, he’s telling Munkustrap that he’s doing a good job and that everyone’s proud of him.

And then, when Munkustrap and Tugger duet, Munkustrap looks so happy about it. He didn’t expect Tugger to behave and he’s thankful for it. It’s a heartwarming moment and it shows Tugger in a new light. He was inconsiderate during his own number, but now he’s showing nothing but sincere respect for his family.

But, Old Deuteronomy is the ultimate authority figure of the tribe. Everyone loves him and he outranks Tugger. Having Tugger be so sincere here, in contrast to his attitude before, is mainly to show just how beloved Old Deuteronomy is. Even a cat who delights in pissing off authority figures has nothing but respect for him. The real stand-out moment is Mister Mistoffelees.

So, after the fight with Macavity, the tribe is in pretty bad shape. Their leader has been kidnapped and their protector is wounded. And, the kittens witnessed all of it. They saw Macavity kidnap Old Deuteronomy while they could do nothing to stop it. Macavity actually attacked Etcetera and Electra, who both tried to stand up to him. Jemima was right next to Etcetera when she was hit. Then, their protector, the strength of the tribe, someone they probably saw as invincible, gets beaten up in a fight. Munkustrap, when knocked unconscious, lands right in front of Electra, the kitten who seemed to have the closest relationship to him. Electra and Rumpleteazer try to wake him up, but they can’t. Mungojerrie can’t stand it and goes to take on Macavity himself.

So, there was a lot of violence and the kittens had front row seats. Now they’re all sitting in the dark with no idea what to do.

Then, Tugger speaks up. Right away, he has a solution. Tugger starts up a musical number and you can see the kittens getting into it like they’re at a rock concert. Not only does he have a solution to the big problem the tribe is facing, but he presents it in a way that distracts the kittens from what just happened.

And this is all without mentioning the subject matter. Unlike Old Deuteronomy, Mistoffelees doesn’t outrank Tugger and he doesn’t have the universal respect of the tribe. Tugger just thinks Misto is awesome and he’s singing an entire song about it. Misto was the cat who casually insulted him during his own number, but Tugger’s ego was unaffected. Tugger responds with absolute faith and support.

And Misto needs that faith and support. Throughout the entire ball, Misto has been trying to impress the authority figures of the tribe. Tugger, with how popular he is with the younger cats, has a lot of influence over the tribe. He’s an authority figure, in a sense. But, he was the only one in that category who Misto not only didn’t try to impress, but straight-up rejected. He doesn’t care what Tugger thinks. With everyone else in his generation either wanting Tugger or wanting to be Tugger, he stands out. Tugger respects that. And, Misto gets the approval he was looking for in the one place he didn’t bother to look. Misto finally getting that approval is what builds up his confidence so he can bring back Old Deuteronomy. And then Tugger gives him all the credit.

So, the audience is introduced to a character who seems egotistical and inconsiderate. But, he’s not. He never was. Tugger does things for the lulz sometimes. He likes to make a scene and he likes to make a mess. But, the Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing. He pays a lot of attention to the other cats and he cares about them. He loves his family, he looks after the kittens, and he gives support to those who need it. He’s actually not that different from Munkustrap.

But, the younger Tugger who bickers with Munkustrap comes across as more genuinely immature and it makes the more sincere moments feel out of nowhere. It’s hard for someone playing a younger Tugger to remain in character during the more serious moments. It just feels like whiplash.

Tldr: So, yeah, the point of this very long essay is that 2016 Munkustrap’s character arc, which has spread to pretty much every production of Cats done in the last five years, has the side effect of making Mistoffelees boring and Tugger obnoxious. It’s an alright arc for Munkustrap, but it sacrifices the arcs of other major characters in a way that a show with an ensemble cast can’t afford to do.

#cats 2016 #cats 1998 #munkustrap #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #artful and knowing #i did an essay #a very long essay #someday i'll do an essay on how 2016 fails at comedy #especially the pekes and the pollicles

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