#ah yes urgent assignments that you don't really want to do can do that to you

[peanuttoffee]

imagine if Cal and Kanan met after the Purge

i like the headcanon that they were bros back in padawan days, messing around and giving a headache to everyone in the temple c::

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

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Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

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The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[awafflenamedhaji]

This is my first time making some x reader here in tumblr so please bare with my grammar and some mistakes😣😣

Yamaguchi x !fem!reader

You, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima are friends since kids and have been together till now

You and Tsukishima are cousins but you both have different personality (at this point I don't even know where he got his salty personality from)

You live in the same roof as Tsukishima since your family's house is far

You and Yams have a thing for each other but too afraid to confess to one another

Tsukishima always drops hints (like all the time) that you both like each other but just plain stupid to realiz,e he's the bridge of your relationship

"Tsukki!! Why'd you order me crispy fries?! I like them soggy you know!" Yamaguchi yells while pouting at Tsukishima who is grinning widely while staring at me

"Yams you can have mine! It's a bit crispy but there are some soggy ones!" I slid my fries onto his front and took the fries that Tsukishima bought

"Ha! It must be nice to have y/n's soggy fries huh?" Tsukishima then had a smug smile plastered on his face "Maybe she made them soggy on purpose—" I threw a wet wipe on Kei's face that smudged his glasses "WHAT THE— WHY'D YOU THROW THAT AT ME?!" Now it's my turn to have a smug smile on my face

"There was oil on your mouth and I was just helping you out cousin, you don't like oil on your mouth don'tcha?"

"Hey hey! Quit it you two, people are staring!" Yamaguchi whispered and looked at the both of us

"Ugh, I'm just gonna leave, have fun on your date" What the fuck is his problem

"D-date?! Tsukki what do you mean—" Yamaguchi hurriedly tried to catch up with Kei

"And y'all just gonna leave me here with your leftovers?"

.

.

.

"Hey Kei?? Ya hear me? Hello???" I poked his side and to my surprise, he's ticklish there

"Oh my oh my! Kei's very ticklish on his sides huh??" I smirked while trying to tickle him

"Stop it will you?! Or I'll tell Tadashi that you like him!" W-what??! NO HE CAN'T KNOW

"NO NO NO I'M SORRY FOR DISTURBING I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW TO SOLVE THIS!" I bowed to him and waited for his response

But to my dismay as I look up he has this smile that I can tell that he is planning on something

"Then you'll do anything I say? Is that a deal or not?" He took off his headphones and waited for my response

"W-well it depends on... what you are planning" I looked away at him and started fidgeting my hands

"You'll have to confess, well maybe not really confess but make him answer if he is interested into dating you"

"ARE YOU NUTS OR JUST FREAKING CRAZY?!? WHAT THE HECK KEI, YOU KNOW THAT HE ISN'T INTERESTED!!"

"How would I know? You two are like beans in a pod that you can't even separate" He was satisfied with my reaction so he went back to what he was doing

I swear for the love of Asajesus I want to kick this tall stick's ass and send him to the fucking sun

"Ugh I'd rather get buried than say to Yams that I like him" I played with the pen that was just lying on the desk the whole time

"Suit yourself, don't blame me if you get that problem wrong, I offered you a good deal yet you refused" THIS GUY—

.

.

The next day my homework got returned to me and of course... I need to redo it

"Kei..." I tapped his shoulder

"Hm? You failed? Sucks to be you" He smirked and went back to dozing off to his “wonderland”

"Ughh just hear me out!! I accept your deal!" His eyes opened

"Then go ahead, there's an hour for you to go and confess"

"WAIT... YOU MEAN RIGHT NOW??!?! I'M NOT READY YET!"

"Take it or leave it, I'll be waiting" Ughh after that I ran to the cafeteria to find a grayish-green haired boy with freckles plastered on his face

"HAHAHAHAHA! Don't tell me that.. you spitted your orange juice on her blouse? Poor her she gotta wash that hard to take the stain off!" He laughed while talking to Hinata and Kageyama at the corner

"We'll I was surprised so I accidentally spat the juice at her!"

"Yams!" I called out and they immediately turned their heads at my direction

"Oh hey y/n! What's up? Is there a problem?" I huffed "I just need to excuse you for something urgent, umm you don't have to wait for Yams here bye!"

I held his wrist and dashed out of the cafeteria and of course we went to our usual spot where me Kei and Yams always go to

"Umm... so Yams uhh.. you see uhh I've been meaning to... ask you something" What the heck why can't I just talk like a normal person

"Yeah? What is it? I hope it's not hard to answer though hahaha!"

"Uhmm...." I fidgeted "A-are you... by any chance uhmm.... interested in you know.... in getting into a relationship" He looked at me in confusion and thought about what I asked

He blushed "N-no.. not really.." He's saying no but his face does..

"O-oh really? Hahaha! Uhmm is there someone you like? Like, like romantically?" He nodded in response and looked away

"Yeah... She has been for a long time had make my heart skip a beat"

"H-ha! Now I've got a chance to pass that freaking homework! Let's go? Kei might be waiting at the classroom" I stood up with a gloomy face, not even sparing a glance at Yamaguchi

"Ooh.. okay.... why did you ask though?" He got curious and of course I'm dumb and told him

"N-nothing... It was just a dare Kei made me do.. Just forget about it!"

Dead silence. Yes we're not talking to each other until I asked him

"Have y.. you asked the girl out?"

"No..."

"Why not? I mean I know she'll like you too! I mean who wouldn't want a fluffball like you?"

Who wouldn't like an amazing guy like you?

I looked at him and he was as red as a tomato, and it's so freaking adorable

"U-uuuh~ Can w-we drop the topic?"

...

I guess he doesn't like talking about someone he likes to me

(Istfg they're so dumb, but Yams is cute)

We have reached our classroom with silence, I've got no chance huh?

The day just went like how it used to, me listening to the teachers, taking notes and everything except when it's time to go back home

"Kei I'm going home early, don't ask why" He looked at me with a not so concerned look

"Uhh okay? Want me to tell Yamaguchi?"

"Nah, he's not interested about that anyway, oh and don't forget about the deal, Imma head out"

.

.

.

I heard the door closed and so I took my notebook and pen and set it to his table

The door opens and he squinted at the sight

"What are you doing in here? Get out"

"HEY! I DID YOUR STUPID DEAL AND GUESS WHAT I GOT INDIRECTLY REJECTED! NOW GET YOUR ASS IN HERE AND HELP ME WITH MY HOMEWORK"

He rolled his eyes and settled in beside me

"The fuck? Where'd you get these answers from? Are you nuts?" HOW RUDE

"Not my fault his teaching was hard to understand" I scoffed

"Well if you're not dumb you'd get the answers right, anyone can solve this y/n"

"Ugh fine fine just teach me already!"

"Later, I need to wait for him" Him?? Is he expecting someone?

"Gomen Tsukki! I was adoring the cat outside so I got in late!" He opened the door panting, he still hasn't noticed me

"Uhm.. I-I'll just watch how to solve it, I'm going back to my room" I packed up my things and was about to stand

"I thought you wanted me to teach you? Since I'm teaching you two the same thing I called him here" He smirked

But I want to avoid him.. for the mean time

"Nevermind that, I'll just ask you something else, later Yamaguchi" I left Kei's room and went straight to bed

Ughh I can't face him like this, I'm just gonna take a nap and do my assignment later

.

.

"Uhmm.. Y/n I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way, I hope we can still be friends though..." I teared up

"Y-yeah it's alright, I'm not really expecting you to reciprocate my feelings so it's okay!"

No it's not okay, not okay..

I love you but you don't love me..

"LWHWIAKKAGSI" I woke up to see Yamaguchi's face close to mine

"OH MY FUCKI— OWW!" I bumped my forehead in his

"AH! I'M SORRY Y/N! I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU! I WAS JUST GOING TO WAKE YOU UP!! GOMEN!!" I massaged my forehead "N-no it's okay! I was just s-surprised that you're here..."

"Tsukki said I should wake you up.. I'm really sorry! Ahh look at your head" He quickly touched my forehead and my heart starts to beat faster

"It has a bump! I'M REALLY SORRY!!!! I'M GETTING YOU SOME ICE!" He's leaving... this is your chance to confess or else you won't be able to get things off of your chest

"W-wait.." I held his shirt and started to get red

"What is it? Does it hurt? Fuck I'm sorry!" He took his hand off of my head

"N-no.. it's.. uhh.. ilikeyou..... so.." I mumbled "What? I can't hear you" Oh god this is embarrassing

"I like you Yams— I mean.. *sigh* You don't have to say anything, I'll just get the ice.. You can go back to Kei.." I said it... though this will be a one sided— "I l-like you too... y/n.. I like you a lot... I m-mean like lot, a lot more than anyth—" I hugged him

I don't want him to see my face, I'm so flustered that I just hugged him without hesitating

"Finally! These dumb dorks" Kei looked at us with satisfaction

"Y-you! You planned this huh?" I stood up and started to hit Kei's arm

"Ow! Well at least you won't have to sulk in this dark room of yours!"

"What do you mean dark?? This is called style you uncultured salt!"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!?"

"I CALLED YOU AN UNCULTURED SALT! GOT A PROBLEM??"

"Hey hey don't start bickering, I'm going to teach her Tsukki so do you mind if you know.. you could-"

"Go back to your room and start listening to your weird music!" I pushed him to his room and went back to my “dark room” he said

"C'mere, I'll teach you the easy way" He sat down on the floor and started to scribble on my notebook

I wiggled my way to his lap and leaned on Yams

"H-hey! It's hard to teach if y-you're leaning on me!" I chuckled "You'll get used to it! Now teach me!"

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

so yeah the ending is crap (○ﾟεﾟ○)

[allthevmff]

Danse Avec Moi

by Heavenli24

   Neptune, California, February 1985

"C'mon, Grandpa, tell it again." The excited, wide eyes of his young grandson look up at him pleadingly the boy tugs at his sleeve. "Please?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You really want to hear the same old, boring story again?"

"Please, Grandpa?" his ten-year-old granddaughter pipes up from her position on the floor. "And it's not boring, it's romantic."

"Romantic, huh?" he smiles, tilting his head to one side in thought. "Yeah, I guess you could say it is."

"So, will you tell it?" seven-year-old Matthew asks again.

"Okay." He fakes a long-suffering sigh. "I'll tell it."

"Yes!" Laura punches the air, jumping up from the floor and settling herself beside him on the sofa.

Matthew follows suit and curls up at his other side, and as he wraps an arm around each of them, he smiles.

"All right, then," he says. "Are we all comfortable?"

"Yes, Grandpa," the kids chorus in unison.

"Right then. It all started in the summer of 1942…"

A small village in France, not far from Paris, July 1942

The small, rural pubic house was filled with locals, drinking and laughing in an attempt to forget that a war was raging outside. In the corner of the pub was a young woman, sitting alone, a glass of red wine placed delicately on the table in front of her as she flicked through the pages of a well-worn book. She was very pretty; blonde, petite… and American, though she didn't advertise that fact, which was helped immensely by the fact that she spoke fluent French with barely a hint of an accent.

In fact, only one person in the pub was aware of her foreign heritage—the young bartender named Pierre who had accidentally stumbled across her mumbling to herself in English as she scribbled in her notebook last week. She'd shown up in the village about three weeks ago, looking for a room in the guest house attached to the pub, and she'd been here ever since. She'd claimed she needed a break from her busy Paris life, though ever since Pierre had discovered she wasn't French, his suspicions over her real reason for being here had been growing steadily.

Glancing over at her now, her legs crossed, one heeled foot bouncing as she read, Pierre was tempted to approach her, maybe offer to buy her a drink, see if he could find out anything about her. His thoughts were cut short, however, by the sound of shouting from outside.

The door burst open then, revealing a gasping, young Mathieu—the landlord's son—sweaty and out of breath.

"Come. Come quick," he said breathlessly, gesturing to the occupants of the pub. "There's been a crash."

"A crash?" Mathieu's father, Jean-Claude stepped out from behind the bar, as Pierre took a step towards the door. "What do you mean?"

Mathieu leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. A moment later, he straightened up. "A plane's gone down a couple of fields away. It's on fire."

"Merde!" exclaimed Jean-Claude. "Any survivors?"

"I don't know. But we have to help."

"Okay." Jean-Claude took charge. "Anna, look after the bar," he told his wife, then turned to the room. "Guillaume, Mathieu, I need you to hook up the hoses. Pierre, fetch the first aid supplies."

"Of course, Jean-Claude." Pierre nodded quickly and turned to head out to the back.

"We'll meet outside in five minutes."

An hour later, the blaze from the plane was under control, and several volunteers with torches were spread out, looking for any sign of survivors.

"It's no use," sighed Guillaume after several long minutes of searching. "It's too dark. Even if someone is out here, we won't find them in this light."

"No, we need to keep looking," insisted Pierre. "If anyone is here, it might be too late by morning."

He shone his torch across the field once more, not expecting to find anything, but then he saw it: a flashing light.

"Hello?" he called out, making his way towards the light. "Is someone there?"

This time, there was a weak, muffled shout, and Pierre broke out into a run, following both the light and the sound. He stopped abruptly when he came across a man lying in the grass. He was wearing a flight suit and aviation goggles, and a parachute was tangled around his body. There was blood trickling down his face and he was wincing as he tried to move.

"It's okay," he said, kneeling down beside the man. "We're here to help. Can you tell me your name?"

The pilot just looked up at him in confusion and bewilderment, before muttering in halting, hesitant, heavily accented French, "Je ne comprends pas." I don't understand.

"Is okay," Pierre switched to the small amount of English he knew. "We will help."

"Merci." The pilot managed a jerking nod before his eyes slid closed and he passed out.

Pierre looked up at the group of people gathered around them. "Let's get him back to the guest house."

The pilot woke with a groan, his eyes blinking open slowly, as his surroundings came into focus. As he tried to move, his shoulder twinged in pain and he looked down to see his arm in a sling. What the hell happened?

Lifting his head, he took in the flowered wallpaper, the thick, velvet curtains and the metal-framed bed he was propped up in. What the fuck? This isn't base camp.

"Where the hell am I?"

"Ne vous inquiétez pas, vous êtes en sécurité," came a voice from the other side of the room. Don't worry, you're safe.

He looked over to see a young man standing in the doorway, gesturing towards him.

"I'm sorry, I don't…" he stopped, trying to remember the limited amount of French he'd been taught before being sent here. "Uh, désolé… je ne… parle pas français. Je… suis …Américain." Sorry, I don't speak French. I'm American.

"Je vois," said the man with a nod, before switching to English. "My English is not so good. I am Pierre."

"Where am I, Pierre?" he asked, wracking his brain for the right phrase. "Um… où.. suis-je?"

"Le Meux," said the man.

He nodded. "And what happened to me?"

Pierre shook his head, holding out his hands in an uncomprehending gesture.

"Right." The pilot let his head fall back against the pillows. "You don't understand me. Shit."

Pierre's expression turned lost then, as if he didn't know what to do now, but then he straightened, his eyes lighting up like he'd just had an idea. Holding up a finger in a 'wait right there' signal, he ducked out into the hallway, leaving the injured pilot alone in the room.

"Right. Okay, then."

Thinking quickly, Pierre rushed down the stairs and into the main bar area, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the person he was looking for. Crossing the room quickly, he slowed as he approached the blonde, a little nervous about what he had come to ask her.

"Uh, excuse me, mademoiselle?" he asked in French.

She looked up from the notebook she was scrawling in and then smiled kindly when she saw him. "Ah, good morning, Pierre. How are you today?"

"I actually…" he stumbled over the words. "I have a—a favour to ask of you."

"A favour?" She frowned, looking a little guarded. "What kind of favour?"

"Well, you see… you know about the plane crash last night?" started Pierre. She nodded. "Well, we found someone. The pilot. He was still alive, so we brought him back here."

"Okay…"

"Well, the thing is, he doesn't speak French, and my English is terrible, and so I was hoping you might be able to translate for us?"

"Translate?" Her voice didn't give anything away, though she raised an eyebrow. "And why would I be able to do that?"

"Look…" Pierre slid onto the chair on the other side of her small table, glancing around the room to check no one could hear them, before leaning in. "I know you're American."

"You, what?" Her eyes widened, glancing furtively around. "But I haven't… how did you find out?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "I may have overheard you talking in English in the courtyard last week."

"Shit," she muttered, looking to him urgently. "Does anyone else know?"

Pierre shakes his head. "No. Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

She visibly relaxed at that.

"So, will you help? With the pilot?" he asked, tone almost pleading.

She looked for a moment like she was going to refuse, but eventually, she gave a slow nod. "Okay. I'll help. What do you need me to do?"

"Thank you." Pierre smiled, standing from the chair. "Come with me?"

As she followed Pierre up the stairs to the guest house bedrooms, she wondered what she was getting herself into. This was supposed to be a deep undercover assignment. No one was supposed to know she was an imposter, that she wasn't a normal French girl just trying to escape city life during the war. But now Pierre knew she was American, and she was about to offer up her translating services for an injured, English-speaking pilot.

You couldn't make this up.

Pierre stopped in front of one of the rooms.

"He's in here," he told her, gently opening the door and gesturing for her to enter.

As she stepped inside the room, the occupant of the bed—a young man, maybe early-20's, with his arm in a sling—startled, obviously not expecting to see her, before groaning in pain and slumping back against the pillows.

"Who are you?" he demanded to know, his accent American. "What's going on?"

"Mademoiselle is here… to help you," said Pierre then.

She took a step further into the room, pasting a smile onto her face. "Hello."

His mouth dropped open in surprise. "You speak English? Oh, thank God."

"I do." She nodded. "Pierre asked me to translate for you. I'm Veronica."

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. "Lieutenant Echolls. US Army Air Force."

"Well, very nice to meet you, Lieutenant." She held out a hand to him as she took a seat in the chair beside the bed. "Do you have a first name to go with the rank?"

He gave a soft, almost incredulous laugh as he gingerly reached out to shake her hand. "It's Logan."

"All right. Logan." She smiled. "So, can you tell me what happened last night? Pierre says your plane crashed and they found you in a nearby field?"

Logan frowned.

"I remember taking off yesterday evening," he said slowly, frowning in concentration. "Everything was fine, until… well, until it wasn't. I don't know what went wrong, but I was losing altitude fast and I just acted on instinct, pressed the eject button and hoped for the best."

Veronica nodded, then turned to Pierre and translated Logan's words for him.

Pierre nodded. "Tell him the doctor visited last night, when he was unconscious. He has a broken arm, and a concussion… and there's a possibility he might have a leg fracture as well."

"What's he saying?" Logan asked, looking between the two of them.

"He says that the doctor came by to see you last night. Your arm is broken, and maybe your leg too. You also have a concussion. I guess you hit your head when you ejected."

"Well, isn't that swell," he muttered, letting his head drop to the pillows behind him. "So, I'm stuck here in the middle of nowhere, France, huh?"

"Well, it's Le Meux, France, actually," she corrected with a soft smile. "And I'm sorry."

"That's life, I guess." He gave a sigh. "Just my luck."

"Look on the bright side," she added. "At least you're not dead."

The next few weeks passed incredibly slowly for Logan. As it turned out, he had broken his leg as well as his arm, and he'd been going stir crazy stuck in the guest house all that time. At least he had Veronica to keep him company. She was a godsend—the only one in this damn place who actually spoke English well enough to hold a conversation. She mostly left him alone during the daytime, but she always showed up around dinner time with a tray of food—enough for two—and she would sit with him while they ate, then keep him company late into the night.

They played card games, and board games, and talked about a lot of things—like what it was like growing up in Southern California, which surprisingly, is where they were both from, and what their life dreams were growing up—but even so, he still felt like she was keeping something from him.

She knew all about his decision to join the Army Air Force, about how he left to get away from the clutches of his abusive father, and that he wanted to carry on his maternal family legacy, but when it came to talking about why she was here in France, she became uncharacteristically mute. From her reluctance to talk, her insistence that no one else must know she was American, and from the way she flicked through and scribbled in that notebook of hers when she thought he wasn't looking, he could only assume she was undercover intelligence of some kind; perhaps military, but he wasn't sure.

After about a month of being cramped up in the guest house, his arm mostly healed, and his leg not far behind, he was finally allowed to venture down the stairs and into the bar area. Of course, now that he was outside the secretive confines of his room, he couldn't actually acknowledge Veronica as anything other than a fellow bar patron, which also meant he had no one to talk to, other than when Pierre would come sit with him and attempt to improve his English.

Veronica, for her part, played the quiet French girl bit flawlessly, constantly burying her nose in a book and paying Logan no mind whatsoever. So, as refreshing it was to have a change of scenery, he found he could only manage an hour or so sitting alone in the bar before he couldn't stand it any longer and headed back upstairs.

A week later, however, as he was nursing a beer in the bar, he looked up and caught Veronica's eye. She tilted her head in the direction of the door and raised an eyebrow in invitation. He nodded almost imperceptibly and after a couple more minutes, he watched discretely as she stood and headed out of the bar, passing his table and stealthily slipping a note into his hand on her way. Logan gave it two more minutes, before he opened the note, careful not to let anyone see it, and then haltingly made his way into the guest house and out of the back door there.

"Hey." Veronica smiled as he slowly approached the large, wide log she was perched on out in the wooded clearing she'd pointed out to him from his bedroom window last week.

"Fancy seeing you here," he returned, easing himself down onto the log, resting the walking cane the doctor had given him alongside.

"Sorry," she apologised softly. "I wanted to talk to you, and I figured you could use some fresh air."

"Oh, I'm not complaining," he replied. "This… being outside… it's well worth it after being cooped up in there for weeks."

"I can imagine." She nodded.

Folding her hands in her lap, she looked down at them. Logan glanced over at her, taking in her pale green fitted, button-down dress, the long skirt flowing around her calves, and the way her rolled hair fell around her shoulders when her head was dipped. She was wearing bright red lipstick—same as always—and it struck him then how much it suited her.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured.

Her head shot up at that, her eyes wide as she looked at him in surprise.

"Sorry," he apologised quickly. "I didn't mean to—it's just… well, it's the truth. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, both inside and out."

Her lips twitched for a moment, before her eyes narrowed and she muttered, "Wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Come on." Logan reached out, sliding a hand over hers. "Don't sell yourself short."

"You don't know me, Logan," she said, even as she took his hand in both of hers. "You think you do, but you don't."

"So, tell me."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't okay. So, please, just leave it."

She lifted her eyes, locking gazes with him, and he can't resist any longer. He reaches out, pushing her hair behind her shoulder, before resting his thumb against her cheek, cupping her jaw in his hand.

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and she swallowed audibly. "Logan, this is a bad idea."

"What's so bad about it?" he wondered. "There's something between us, not even you can deny that."

"No, I can't," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean this is the right thing to do."

"It feels right," he said, leaning in a little closer, until their lips were barely an inch apart.

She sighed, relenting. "Yeah, it does."

Logan smiled. "So, we're in agreement?"

"We are."

"Good."

He didn't waste a moment longer, just closed the gap between them, capturing her soft, lips in a warm kiss. She responded immediately, kissing him back eagerly. He slid his hand around to her neck, up under her perfectly coiffed curls, holding her close. They kissed for what felt like an eternity, but when she eventually pulled back, Logan still groaned at the loss of her touch.

Breathily heavily, Veronica let her forehead rest against his, her hand coming to his cheek. "Logan…"

"Don't," he said, shaking his head. "Please, don't ruin the moment."

"I'm sorry," she apologised softly. "I—I have to go away for a while."

He straightened. "Go where?"

She shook her head sadly. "I can't tell you."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," she said regretfully.

Logan nodded on resignation, looking down for a moment, before lifting his head to her. "But you'll come back?"

She smiled then. "Of course."

Veronica was gone for three weeks. Three long, agonising weeks. Pretty much the only upside of her absence was that by the time she finally returned, Logan's body was almost completely healed from his injuries.

It was late at night, and he was sitting in the bar, the place empty apart from Pierre who was sitting opposite him, attempting to hold a basic conversation in French—the man had kindly been teaching him some more of the language in the last few weeks, while Logan helped him with his English—when she finally walked back into his life.

The moment she appeared in the bar, looking as beautiful and elegant as ever, Logan smiled widely, sliding out of his chair, and walking, cane-free, across the room to her.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," he greeted, coming to a stop before her.

A bright smile lit up her face. "Bonjour, Monsieur."

"Je suis très heureux de te voir," he said, stumbling over the words a little. It's so good to see you.

Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling. "On dirait que tu exerces ton français?" Practicing your French, I see?

"Huh?"

She shook her head with an amused smile. "Never mind."

"You came back," he murmured, almost in wonder.

"I said I would."

"I know." He nodded. "Just wasn't sure if you actually would, you know?"

"I keep my promises, Logan," she assured him, looking him up and down. "Well, you look great. All better now?"

"Pretty much." He nodded, before lowering his voice. "Tu m'as manqué." I've missed you.

"A moi aussi." Me, too.

Behind them, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor captured their attention, and Logan turned to see Pierre giving them a wink as he picked up a record and placed it on the gramophone in the corner of the bar.

As the first strains of music filtered through the room, Logan held out his hand to Veronica.

"Danse avec moi?" Dance with me?

"Avec plaisir." With pleasure.

His smile widened into a grin as he led her to a space in the middle of the bar floor and took her into his arms. As they swayed to the music, Veronica's arms looped around his neck, rising up on her tiptoes so she could kiss him, he realised in that moment, that this was it. He was going to marry this girl.

Neptune, California, February 1985

"And that's the story of how your grandmother and I met," concludes Logan.

"No, wait. That can't be all of it," protests Laura. "It was just getting good."

"Maybe not," Logan agrees, glancing over at the doorway to the kitchen, where Veronica is tapping her watch impatiently. "But that's all we have time for right now. Looks like Grandma has dinner ready."

The kids scramble off the couch and race into the kitchen, leaving Veronica to call after them, "Don't forget to wash your hands before you dig in."

As Logan gets up off the couch, stretches his aching limbs, Veronica turns back to him and crosses the room, meeting him halfway.

"That was quite a story you were telling there," she says, slipping her arms around his waist. "I think maybe I've heard it somewhere before."

"Heard it?" Logan questions in amusement, his arms coming around her now, mimicking her position. "Baby, you lived it."

"And what a life it was."

"I wouldn't trade it for the world." He brings one of his hands up, running a finger along the neat curls she still wears in her short, greying hair.

"Me either," she murmurs, looking up at him with smiling eyes. "Danse avec moi?"

"Avec plaisir," he replies, "but maybe not right now… we have hungry grandkids to feed. But later, when we have the house to ourselves, we'll dance all night long."

via AO3 works tagged 'Veronica Mars (Movie 2014)' https://ift.tt/2XNwzUV March 20, 2019 at 11:36PM