#so Coa got changed to white lighting

[calllynx]

behold. the first ever drawing of Coa. Back in 2021!

[the-darklings]

Heyyy, I honestly love your writing and was wondering can we have more Clara x reader, please??

what if I told you I have an entire E-rated mini-series half done for clara x reader set in an original world???

but yes, always, always yes for her.

pairing: clara (v) x f!reader

wc: 1.3k+

verse: coa; post the hunt, pre-john's wedding

notes: reader is part of the continental staff

“You’re back.”

Words slip past your lips without you meaning to say them; more of a strained exclamation of surprise than a casual greeting.

The woman halts in her tracks (is she limping?) and rotates her neck. Lips pressed in a bloodless line, the Vipress’ wan expression slices into you like a dull knife. Her chestnut hair hangs limp and soggy with water around her face. Her jaw rigid and her body tense.

Dark eyes squint at you, scanning, and you note the way her deft fingers twitch against her thigh, fighting back an impulse to reach for a weapon. You heard about the Hunt. Heard about all the awful things she was put through before eventually settling with Camorra. There were rumours about their protection being extended towards her. Some say she slept her way into it, namely through Santino D’Antonio who you have to admit has an intense interest in her. Others say she agreed to be Giovanni’s spy, others believed it was all a ploy by Viggo Tarasov to unleash a snake inside the Italian ranks.

Truth is you don’t believe any rumours you’ve heard about her. You recall a woman who used to shadow John Wick with a grin sharper than her blades. But she never struck you as conniving or cruel. She’d been… kind. Kinder than most people you’ve dealt with. In such subtle, unexpected ways. Gratitude few extend for those beneath them, inquiring about your day, or idle conversation. You often wondered if she was lonely. As lonely as you. If that’s why she was so kind.

Everyone wears a mask, but the Vipress always allowed you to see more. Or used to.

A permanent cloud of restless misery seems to hang over her since her ill-fated trip to Tokyo—another pool of rumours swirling around that particular event—and you can’t recall seeing a single smile since.

You miss it. Crinkled eyes and scrunched nose. Rare but potent joy. Infectious in its intensity. She…

Swallowing, you venture closer, risking a soft, “Are you injured?”

Her black clothes drip with water but you don’t comment on the steadily growing pool of water beneath her feet. Her expression doesn’t so much as shift. Stony and untrusting.

“Is Winston in?”

Rough words, her voice scratchy with tension. Her eyes scan briefly behind you, anticipating a danger she shouldn’t. You doubt Winston would ever allow anyone to disobey the Continental rules, much less when in relation to her.

“No, he…” you trail off, still staring at her. “He has your room key. I’m afraid you can’t get in until he returns. You need a change of clothes. I have some spares if you like? You’ll catch a cold otherwise. You’re soaked to the bone.”

A mirthless, half-smile crosses her face, twisting her expression into a pained grimace you hate. She doesn’t suit it. When was she bled of her fiery, snarky humour you always admired? Found secretly hilarious?

“Figures,” she mutters under her breath, glancing behind herself. An empty hallway greets her but you note how her shoulders loosen slightly, forcing a soft sigh out of her lungs. “Sure. I appreciate it.”

Giving her a weak smile, you gesture for her to follow after you. You count to five before her light footsteps register behind you. Your skin tingles as you walk, feeling her intent stare at the back of your neck. Your heels make it even harder to keep an even gait but you succeed. Charon taught you better than that.

Spine straight, you walk proudly ahead, one of the deadliest women in this city trailing after you. Questions bubble in your chest, tingling your tongue but you bite your cheek to keep them locked away. Vipress looks no better than a caged animal right now—the last thing you want to do is add to her troubled, exhausted state.

It’s not long before you reach the staff wing, unlocking the spare laundry room connecting with your new office. Your heels click while you move across the space, pulling out a new pair of jeans, a jumper and undergarments. Simple, standard clothes Continental provides free of charge to its patrons in case their previous clothes are destroyed beyond repair.

You can’t hear her while you shuffle around, but you certainly feel her presence. Prey is always aware of predators even if they can’t see them.

“You’re no longer working in housekeeping,” she speaks suddenly, a question there.

You nearly jump out of your skin, tightening your hold on the bundle of garments in your hands. Inhaling deeply, you turn to her with a slight smile, a little frail around the edges but present all the same.

The assassin leans against the wall opposite to you, bright fluorescent illuminating her features, giving her a near gaunt appearance. When did she lose so much weight? Her usually soft freckles stand stark against her too pale skin.

“I got a raise,” you tell her, pride colouring your voice and you move in her direction with a shy smile. “Just last week.”

Her eyebrows quirk, searching over your new attire of tailored dress pants, white shirt and polished heels.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she says after a pause, and you falter under her piercing stare.

Yes. Yes, she did. She told you repeatedly it’s only a matter of time before you get a raise. She thought you were a great worker and oftentimes joked about putting in a good word to Winston about you. You always wrote off her words as nothing more than jokes, meaningless conversations you have with someone when you want to be polite. John Wick certainly never got involved in your banter. His dark eyes unfailingly trailed after her smiles and laughs instead.

You could understand his appreciation, his secret hoarding of those rare instances. He wanted something—someone—he couldn’t afford to have. Couldn’t permit himself to reach for.

Staring at the Vipress you think you understand him better than you would care to admit.

She’s beautiful in a way a wild flame is beautiful. Get too close and you know you will suffer for it. But you want to.

God, you really do. Crave her in secret because… well. What are you? What can you give to a woman like her? When she holds the interest of so many above your stature. The things they say she did during the Hunt. People who are dead because of her.

She’s one of the most horrible people alive.

Yet her smiles are more blinding than the sun, and you selfishly want every single one of them.

“Yes, you did,” you agree weakly, holding out the bundle of clothes to her.

Her hands are cold when they touch yours but a tingle rushes up your spine all the same. Electric current hums under your skin when her guarded eyes do another searching sweep over your expression.

“You know my sizes?”

Your heart quivers in your chest, unsure how to proceed. Does she think you stranger, wrong, to have remembered such a thing?

“I… your laundry,” you splutter, then exhale, calming yourself to give her a steadier, “When you lived here. The dry cleaner. I… sorry, I realise this might be uncomfortable for you.”

Her hazel eyes drag over you again, hard and unyielding. Your breaths slow when she takes a few steps closer—close enough for you to scent the flowers, herbs and soil that forever seem to cling to her smooth skin. You’ve never wanted to nuzzle into someone’s neck more, feel their warmth beneath your lips. Taste and savour the exquisite familiarity of someone’s very being.

“My sizes have changed,” she says and you tell yourself you imagined the slight smile you glimpse for a split second. “But you’re welcome to learn them again.”

She brushes past you—flowers and poison and death—and you force yourself to breath, ignoring the heat crawling up your neck.

an: she. that's it - that's the message. but thank you so much for asking for her!!! I think Clara deserves a soft sapphic romance, as a treat.

[the-foxes-fangs]

When the Fox Takes a Bride

Requested by @isasa-li <3 

Warnings: none 

“Mitsuhide I’m trying to tell you that I love you!” She said, peering into his shocked face. She knew that he was he was aware, he could read her like a neon sign, but she had lost the patience to wait him out. He could be as aloof as he chose, but she wanted him to know that she wasn’t afraid to speak the truth. 

“I’m trying to tell you that you’re making a mistake, firstly” He answered, softly, finally. 

She slumped dejectedly, her hands folded tightly in her lap, trying to blink away the tears. 

“But as for the second, it takes bravery to tell someone you love them.” He said, and she felt his arms drawing her close. “I’m yours, until you change your mind.” He added, at almost a whisper. 

And that was the way it was, for weeks. She would say “I love you,” and he would say “I’m yours.” 

She tried to be patient, to demonstrate her devotion through action. She tried to see his love in his actions, in the patient gentleness with which he taught her to use a rifle, in the way he had a knack for appearing out of nowhere whenever she was in even the most minor inconvenience.   

He had had to leave for a few days that stretched into a week and half, and she was feeling desolate at his absence, at the way he seemed to be waiting for her to walk away, at how it was clear that he wouldn’t protest if she did. 

She was fitting Ieyasu for a new Kimono when he snorted moodily at her and shook his head. 

“You look like you’ve been sucking on pickled plums. I hate to say it, but I prefer your normal goofy expression.” He said, and poked her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. She couldn’t imagine crying on Ieyasu’s shoulder. 

“Is he that bad? Pretty sure Hideyoshi and Masamune have a running bet on how long before you get it through your fluffy head that you should drop him.” He replied, hands on his hips. 

“What? No! I’m going to have some choice words for those two!” She answered indignantly. 

“They’ll just point out how miserable you look. You could wilt the cherry blossoms with that face.” He shot back. 

“I don’t want to hear about looking dour from you of all people!” She snapped at him with more vitriol than she meant to. 

He took it in stride, arms folded over his chest. “Oh sit down and have some tea, before you bite someone’s head off who might take it personally.” 

“Fine.” She said and sat down, still irritated despite telling herself that Ieyasu hadn’t done anything to warrant her ire. 

He passed her a cup and settled across the table, frowning into her face. 

“You’re going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.” 

“Pot, meet kettle.” She replied, smiling a little despite herself. 

“Yeah, but then you’ll come to me about it and that would be a pain.” He answered with a sniff. “So if you don’t have the good sense to leave him, what’s the trouble?” He asked, in gentler tone. 

“I know it’s silly-” She began, only to be cut off with a short barking laugh. 

“Of course it’s silly, it’s you.” He said with a gesture that she knew from experience was affectionate. “Tell me anyway. It will make you feel better and then I won’t have to waste time making you medicine when you worry yourself sick.” 

“He won’t say ‘I love you.’’ She said, expecting him to laugh. It sounded childish even to her. 

“Well you rolled the wrong dice if you expected to be showered in love poetry by that fox.” He responded, sipping his tea. 

“Gee, thanks.” She said, and sighed. 

“But he does, you know. I’ve known him as long as anyone here, and I’ve never seen him let alone get under his skin the way you do. He’s always watching you, and between you and me, I don’t think there’s anyone he would hesitate to kill to keep you safe.” He answered, his normally harsh voice a little softer. 

“I suppose you’re right. It seems like he’s always waiting for me to change my mind.” 

“He knows better than anyone how cheap words are. You’re going to have to show him that you mean it by accepting him as the difficult man that he is.” 

“That’s actually shockingly good advice, Ieyasu.” She answered, with a genuine smile for the first time in days. 

He frowned and snorted again, gulping down the last of his tea to cover his embarrassment. “Yeah, well, don’t make a habit of bothering me with your petty problems.” 

“Of course not.” She answered, now with a full grin. 

“There’s that empty-headed expression back where it belongs. Now get out, I have too much work to do to sit around and listen to you babble all day.” He said gruffly. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going. Thank you.” She said as she rose and gathered her kit. 

She went to Mitsuhide’s manor and waited in his room, as she had every night while he gone, working on embroidering the haori she had made for him. 

She had opened the doors to the veranda to catch the fragrance of the spring night as it drifted in. It reminded her of his scent, moss and gunpowder, raw silk and ink, and petrichore from rain always about to fall. She feel asleep working seated at his desk. 

A soft hand on her head woke her, and she started when she opened her eyes and saw him leaning over her with his Cheshire cat smile. 

“Welcome home.” She said, sleepily.

“Why thank you, I hadn’t realized you were planning to move in while I was away. A shockingly underhanded tactic, but I like it.” He answered and placed the ghost of a kiss on her forehead. 

“I was just waiting for you.” She replied, and felt the heat rising to her face.

He tweaked her nose, which made her blush even harder. “Wait no more, here I am. What, I wonder, were you waiting for me to do?” 

His voice had dropped low and she felt a jolt of electricity from the top of her head to her fingertips. It wasn’t fair, what he could do to her with just that purring voice. She narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat. 

“As a matter of fact, I wanted to give you this.” She said and held up the haori, pleased to counter him, even for a fraction of a second. 

“I’m not sure I believe you.” He said, but she saw the flash of a genuine smile as he took it and ran his fingers over the soft blue and gold bellflowers embroidered on a field of white. 

“Interrogate me.” She said and stretched her cramped arms overhead. 

He caught one of her wrists and placed a kiss there that had just enough of a nip in it to make her shudder. 

“Tempting but I have other plans for you today.” He said, and leaned forward. 

She waited for a kiss but got her hair ruffled instead. 

“Get dressed, there’s somewhere I want to take you.” He said, and began to remove his armor.  

She went behind the screen and put on the set of spare clothes she had brought with her. “I’m sure you must be exhausted, Mitsuhide. Whatever it is, it can wait.” She called out. 

“It can’t, and besides, reliable sources tell me you’ve been moping around here like a storm cloud and working yourself to the bone. I’m afraid you’ll just have to spend the day doing what I say to atone.” He answered smoothly. 

“When I find out who snitched, I’m going to get revenge.” She muttered, as she stepped out. 

“Not that I don’t like this side of you, but you’ll never flush out my spies.” He answered, and flashed her an infuriatingly smug smile. “Come on.” he added and gestured her along. He looked as handsome as expected in the coat she had made him. 

He fairly dragged her through the streets of the town under a cloudless sunny sky, giving her no time to ask where they were going as they climbed a path up a slight hill. They were well out of Azuchi now, and the noise gave way to birdsong and the noise of the breeze on the fresh grass. She gasped as the rounded a curve and a grove of cherry trees in spectacular bloom came into view. 

He laid out a mat and some food and pulled her down beside him. The cherry blossoms drifted down on them in the brilliant sun as they ate, and finally he poured out some sweet sake for them, and cradled her close in peaceful silence. 

“Isn’t it a bit early in the day to be drinking?” She asked, smiling up at him. 

“Aren’t you forgetting that you agreed to spend the day doing what I say?” He said, and brushed a fallen petal off of her face with a feather light touch. 

“I don’t recall agreeing to that.” She answered and kissed his fingertip. 

“Don’t you? You didn’t disagree, therefore you agreed.” He said, and bent to kiss her, softly and then with deeper passion. 

He kissed her neck, biting her with just the right amount of intensity to draw out a breathless moan. 

“Just what is it you want me to do, then?” She asked, her voice heavy with desire. 

He stopped kissing her long enough to look into her face with that foxes smile, heat in his eyes. “I wonder.” He said, and kissed her again, before pushing her backward onto the blossom covered cloth. He braced himself over her and looked down at her intently, with a whisper of sadness in his eyes. 

“I want you to be happy.” He said, and fanned her out behind her head, stroking her face. 

“I’m always happy when I’m with you. I missed you so much.” She answered as he cradled her cheek. He showed her a genuine, half sad smile. 

“Honestly I should mope around more often if it gets me your undivided attention this way.” She said, teasingly, hoping to change his train of thought. 

“You always have my undivided attention.” He said, and kissed her once her, hard enough to take her breath away. His hair fell softly in her face and she reached up to tuck it behind his ear, and felt a rush of love for him, for his well disguised care, for his unique way of showing his feelings, for all the ways he was an unfathomable mystery, and every way he could still surprise her. 

She held his gaze, and hoped he could see it in her eyes. “I love you, Mitsuhide.” She said. 

He lowered himself to kiss her forehead, her eyelids, and her mouth softly. He kissed alone her jaw to her ear, and she could feel his heart pounding against hers. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, arms tight around her. 

He eyes flew open as a shower of warm rain fell on them, bringing even more blossoms down on them. She reached under his coat and patted his well formed backside. 

“Whatever are you doing?” He said with a raised eyebrow, as he brushed the droplets out of his hair. 

“Checking for a tail.” She murmured and smiled contentedly at him.