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buckysgrace · 10 months

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1. The Bones

Chapter One of Every Little Thing.

Gator Tillman x Fem!OC

Daphne Williams has slowly been filling the hole in her heart for the past three years. She poured herself into traveling, into meeting new interesting people and learning new tricks and habits. She’s finally moved on and found herself a caring fiancé who she’s sure her parents will adore. There’s only one person she could think of that would ruin her happiness; Gator Tillman.

CW: Implies/references underage smut. Oral sex, cheating.

Then

The air was warming up, the spring time air melting the snow and bringing in the flowers. Daphne liked flowers, she liked the sound of the birds and the critters that slowly came out from their hiding spots.

She was resting against a blanket, soft blades of grass still poking through as she recounted different shapes from the clouds that were floating in the blue sky. Her feet were bare, slightly dirty from the ground still being wet from the snow that had melted away last week.

Gator’s arm brushed against hers every time he shifted in his spot. He had a harder time staying still, constantly moving and dragging her along to whatever he wanted to do. She didn’t mind. Gator was her best friend, she looked forward to seeing him the most. She spent more time with him than she did her own siblings, even her twin.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” Gator asked her suddenly, pausing their conversation over how excited they were for Easter break, “And your parents don’t count.” He said quickly as he looked over her, his brown eyes filled with curiosity. She liked his eyes. She thought he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen. They were downturned, surrounded by soft eyelashes that only enhanced the chestnut color. Sometimes they looked like they had a hint of green to them, sometimes they looked golden if the sun hit them just right. She felt like she could stare at them forever.

She’d grown increasingly obvious of her feelings the past few months, ever since he’d made her dance with him at one of the Christmas parties that was organized by the church. She had burned several different shades of red, her body tense and covered in sweat as she realized how close they were to one another. It was silly. Their parents had teased them about getting married their whole lives and now Daphne was sure she was falling in love with him.

“No,” Daphne flushed as she relented, speaking the truth. She almost brought up their mock wedding her sister had forced them to do when she was six and he was eight, but she didn’t think that kiss counted either. It was barely a peck and both of them had spit and gagged over how gross it was at the time, “Have you?” She asked him shyly as she clasped her fingers over her stomach. She was sure that Gator would’ve already told her if he’d kissed somebody, but sometimes he surprised her.

“Maybe,” He grinned softly, his eyes filled with mischief as he watched her, “Do you want to learn?” He asked a little softer as he rolled onto his side. He rested his cheek on his palm, covering up the moles on the side of his neck. She liked to touch them sometimes. Sometimes she’d pretend to bite his neck, acting like she was a vampire because that’s what the spots reminded her of.

“Isn’t it wrong if we kiss?” She asked in alarm, her blue eyes wide as she considered his words. She didn’t think you were allowed to kiss someone unless you had a boyfriend, but even then, she was sure her parents would prefer if she was married first.

“Why would it be wrong?” Gator looked at her curiously, his eyebrows raising softly as his eyes moved across her features. She opened her mouth, trying to find the words to explain what had happened but was unable to do so.

“I don’t know,” She responded shyly, “I don’t think I’m supposed to kiss boys yet.” She admitted at last as she twisted her fingers together over her stomach. Gator brought his hand over hers, linking their fingers together the same way that they did when they’d pray.

“You don’t have to tell anybody,” He said with a smile, “Besides, it would just be practice.” He said slowly as his finger brushed against her knuckles. She felt her heart hammering roughly in her chest, nearly making her sick with the anticipation she felt. She remembered her friend Daisy talking about her first kiss, how fun it had been.

“Okay,” She said as she glanced towards his lips, thinking that they were really pretty and such a soft pink, “Just for practice.” She nodded, confirming his suggestion as she waited for him to move. She was too scared, too afraid that she would do something wrong.

////////////////////

She liked kissing Gator.

Most of their free time was spent making out, whether it was at night when he’d sneak into her room when their parents were sleeping or after school when they’d feign doing something important and sneak off to the creek instead.

His lips were soft and smooth and he always tasted of fruit when she’d lick at his tongue. He liked kissing that way, said that was how big kids kissed. She wanted to please him, to kiss him better than any other girl ever would.

“You’re going into high school soon,” Daphne pouted her lips out as she rested her hands against Gator’s knees, enjoying the feeling of his skin against her own, “You’ll be too cool to hang out with me.” She told him solemnly as he petted at her red hair.

“Why would I be too cool for you?” He knitted his eyebrows together as he looked at her in confusion. He sat at the edge of the bank, still in his underwear as she floated in the water. She’d removed her clothes long ago, dipping into the water without anything on. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. They used to bathe together. Besides, her chest was still flat. There really wasn’t much of a difference between them, besides what rested between their legs.

“Everyone is so much cooler in high school,” She told him quickly, “I want to go to high school with you. I’m smart enough.” She replied seriously, knowing that it was true. Her parents always ragged about how bright she was.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Gator responded as his eyes danced over the way her cheeks were becoming pink from being in the sun for too long, “We’ll still be friends.” He promised her as he brushed his thumb against her sunburnt cheeks.

“Do you promise?” She asked him seriously, worried that she would miss out on something. She already thought that he was so much cooler than her. She often fought to keep up with him, fearing that he would leave her behind.

“Always,” He grinned as he wrapped his hands around her biceps and quickly pulled her up towards him. She squealed, giggling as she clambered on top of his lap, “What would I do without Daphne Sue?” He teased her with a rhyme, earning a giggle from her lips.

Now

The air was hotter, more humid than what Daphne had grown used to in the past three years. Her hands felt awkward on the steering wheel, almost wrong as she drove down the long dirt road. She had the windows rolled down, enjoying the cool breeze that washed over them as the sun began to lower in the distance. She always liked summer better, thought it was better that the sun stayed up for so long.

She hummed along to Dolly Parton on the CD, still amused with the way Hugh had huffed and fussed over her choice of music. She thought after being with him for almost a year that he would accept the genre of music that she enjoyed.

“This is it?” Hugh questioned as he turned towards Daphne. His dark curls were dancing on top of his head, floating as the wind carried against him. She felt a grin forming on her lips, knowing that thus far he wasn’t impressed with North Dakota. He was used to the bumbling life in Marseille, the big port and pretty waters. She couldn’t lie; home looked fairly disappointing compared to where they had been.

“Yeah,” She smiled brightly as she moved to fix the scarf that she’d worn around her head today. She was nervous. He’d already spent the week getting to know her parents and siblings, but somehow meeting the Tillman’s for their usual Saturday dinner felt more intimidating, “They have a lot more land.” She stated before she pulled the keys from the ignition.

“It smells.” Hugh responded as he stepped out of the car. He wrinkled his nose up, mirroring the look that her parents had been complaining about the past few days. She bumped his shoulder softly, hoping to erase his stink face before anyone saw it again.

“It does not smell,” She laughed as she slowly walked with him to her parents truck, “You’re just not used to the country air.” She brushed him off, thinking of how bad his allergies had been since they’d arrived. He was constantly sniffling, his eyes puffy and nose sore.

“It smells a bit,” Noelle admitted as she joined them. She was two years older than Daphne, the same age as Gator. Daphne often wondered why she didn’t hang around Gator more often, “Don’t lie to him.” Noelle smiled as she flicked her blonde hair over her shoulders.

Daphne simply rolled her eyes, used to her sister’s teasing as they walked forward. In truth, Daphne’s heart was beating roughly out of her control. She desperately missed Gator, but was fearful to see him. She hadn’t enjoyed the way their relationship had ended. She swallowed stiffly, remembering that it wasn’t a relationship.

“Daphne Sue,” Roy looked at her in surprise as she stepped into the doorway, “You’ve grown.” He smiled kindly as he pulled her into a hug, rubbing his hand between her shoulders. She smiled softly, feeling like Roy was a second father to her.

“It’s been some time,” She greeted, “Oh wow. The twins have gotten big.” She commented as she pulled away, thinking that they had just been toddlers when she’d left. The two girls smiled shyly before gripping each other’s hands and running away in a fit of giggles. Daphne smiled, thinking it wouldn’t take long to get to know them again.

“It’s good to see you,” Karen greeted, smiling brightly as she wrapped Daphne up tightly, “Oh my. Your mother told me the news. Is this him?” She smiled as she pulled away, grinning up towards Hugh.

“Yes,” Daphne felt her face flush from the attention on her, “This is Hugh.” She introduced as she hugged his arm, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. He was pleasant, as kind as always as he officially introduced himself.

She felt her eyes linger for a moment but was quickly reassured when she realized Gator wasn’t here. She hoped that he was working, that she could put off seeing him for a bit longer.

She felt less nervous as time passed as she realized she really was in the clear from running into Gator again. She spent most of her time showing off her engagement ring, a square diamond that glistened no matter which direction she turned it. It was slightly too bulky, nothing like she had ever imagined herself wearing. It was still pretty and she was surprised at the amount that he had dropped on it.

She lingered in the kitchen, spreading some cream cheese on a piece of salami before she wrapped it up in a pickle. She ate it, her eyes lingering against Hugh as he talked dramatically about one of his larger than life stories. She had mentioned to her family more than once to be patient, to not be rude when Hugh would stumble over his words.

“Daphne,” Gator looked at her in surprise, his brown eyes widening as he searched over her features, “I didn’t know you were back.” She stared at him, in just as much shock as she swallowed roughly. She shivered at the way the unchewed food dipped roughly into her stomach.

His hair was slicked back, held into place as he rested two of his fingers into his belt loops. Her eyes traced over his work uniform, her mouth dry as she felt like she had suddenly been slapped.

“I am,” She said awkwardly, wondering how you could spend your whole youth with someone and then turn into strangers, “Hi.” She replied slowly, her heart beating roughly as she looked at him. He looked as handsome as ever. She breathed in, wishing she could reach out and touch him.

“Oh, don’t be modest,” Karen teased as she walked forward and held Daphne’s hand out dramatically, “Look at that rock she got.” Daphne felt horrified, her hand limp as Karen shook it about. Her diamond gleamed in the sun, shining brightly.

“You’re married?” Gator said slowly as he pulled his eyes away from the ring, looking at her stunned as he took a step back. She paused, feeling her mouth was dry and scratchy. She wondered what he thought, if he was jealous. She doubted it.

“Engaged,” She squeaked out softly as she glanced over her shoulder to see where Hugh was lingering. She spotted him near Oliver and August, his eyebrows knitted tightly together as if he was confused over what they were speaking of, “That’s Hugh, my fiancé .”

“Oh,” Gator looked at her stunned for a second as he shook his head so lightly that she almost missed it, “No one ever mentioned that.” He said a second later, like he was trying to imply that it must not be something special. She clasped one hand over the other, hiding her ring away.

“It was a surprise,” Daphne said softly as she began to pick at her nails, “I think they really enjoy him though.” She replied, knowing that it wouldn’t take too much longer for everyone to adapt to Hugh. He was too kind, too funny not to like him.

“He a foreigner or somethin’?” Gator asked slowly as he kicked one leg out and rested his weight on the other. She watched the way he fiddled with the loops on his pants, looking irritated suddenly.

“He’s French,” Daphne confirmed, “I met him last August.” She told him as she looked over her shoulder again, thinking of the funny way that Hugh had asked her out.

“You changed your hair,” He said softly as he took a step forward. His fingertips brushed across her breasts, causing her breath to catch as she stared up at him. She didn’t pay attention to the way he twisted the ends of her hair around his fingers. She didn’t respond, thinking of how Hugh hadn’t even noticed that she’d added balayage to her hair. Gator did. He always noticed when she changed things, “I like it. You look pretty, like always.”

“The food’s ready,” Oliver interjected as he walked into the room and linked his arm with Daphne’s. He tugged her away, her feet dragging as he quickly pulled her out of the room, “Why are you talking to him?” He mumbled underneath his breath, looking irritated as his blue eyes met hers.

Oliver was born twelve minutes before Daphne, but still acted like he was wise beyond his years. And despite being fraternal twins, Daphne didn’t think they could look anymore alike. They shared the same narrow, bony shoulders and slender body. They even had a mole in the same place on their stomach, above their belly button and just a bit to the right.

Daphne had hated her early years of high school as no matter how much makeup she wore or how pink her dresses got people would still mistake her for a boy. They constantly asked her if she was confused because everyone swore up and down she was Oliver’s twin brother. It finally stopped the summer of her Junior year of school when her hips widened and her breasts swelled. She had been so proud, but someone else had enjoyed her body just as well.

“He’s an old friend,” Daphne defended herself, feeling her face heat up at Oliver’s accusation. She fought everything within herself to turn and glance back at where she’d left Gator, “You just don’t like him.” She protested, trying to keep herself from feeling too exposed as they walked towards the large dining table. Oliver snorted as he shook his head.

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” He told her quickly as he dropped their arms, “He’s trouble. You’ve been gone for too long to even realize what’s happened.” She blinked slowly, feeling like she was being lured into new information. Gator had run into trouble before, but she figured it would be long behind him with his new position.

“Come sit,” Ruby, their mother, nudged them quickly as she put a bowl of potato salad on the table, “Everything is ready, come on.” She urged them forward as she took her place at the table. Daphne paused, watching as people situated themselves in their normal spots.

“You gonna take your place?” Gator asked, approaching her from behind again. She flicked her eyes up, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted in her gut. His fingertips lightly brushing against her hip, just enough to leave her body warm as she nodded her head in agreement. She waited for Hugh, before she took her normal spot at the table. It was always next to Gator, “I don’t think we’ve met.” He smiled kindly, politely as he leaned forward and held a hand out towards Hugh.

“Hugh,” He introduced himself as he nodded towards Gator, “You are?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, still looking like he was a little lost. Daphne reached underneath the table to give his knee a reassuring squeeze, hoping that he had grown more comfortable with her family the past few days.

“That’s Gator,” Noelle introduced teasingly, inhaling deeply like she was speaking dreamily, “Daphne’s best friend. You know, we used to say they were going to get married.” She teased as she leaned forward and puckered her lips out towards Daphne. Daphne felt her eyes widen, her cheeks heat up. She had never mentioned Gator. She’d never wanted to open that wound and hurt all over again.

“You couldn’t keep them apart,” Ruby nodded her head, “Oh but that’s in the past. We do love him though. It would’ve been fun to connect our families.” She muttered as she leaned over Gator to kiss the top of his forehead. Gator let out a soft laugh, although Daphne didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered in her direction. She gulped hard.

“Oh,” Hugh looked at Daphne in confusion, his demeanor a little smaller as he nodded his head, “I understand.” He said slowly, looking like he didn’t understand why she would keep that from him. She swallowed harshly again, trying to keep her posture relaxed.

“They’re just pulling your leg,” Daphne said quickly as she shook her head, “Noelle used to have a crush on Roy.” She sprouted out suddenly, desperate to get the attention off of her and Hugh. Noelle’s blue eyes widened in horror, her face turning so red that it reflected off of her blonde hair.

“Daphne Sue I can’t believe you right now!” She shouted shrilly as she wounded her tablecloth into a ball and threw it at Daphne’s face, “You’re still such a brat! A big baby!” She continued to scream, huffing like she was seconds away from jumping across the table and strangling Daphne. It wouldn’t have been their first fist that they’d gotten into.

“I’m not a baby,” Daphne replied in annoyance, tired of how everyone acted like she got some special treatment because she was the youngest. Even Oliver teased her about it, despite him being the same age as her, “You’re the one that’s acting immature.”

“Girls,” Bruce quickly cut them off, sending them both a look so sharp that had them straightening their shoulders and leaning back. He was a good father, with soft blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Daphne knew better than to argue with him. She’d only been spanked by him twice but she had witnessed the rough way he’d handled her older more rambunctious brother, August, “Can we pray or are you going to continue to disgrace God?”

They both muttered a yes sir before Daphne awkwardly shifted in her seat. She felt like she was a small child getting lectured again. She inhaled deeply, fighting to look towards Gator as she thought of how they used to get in trouble for staying up too late and sneaking in snacks when they wouldn’t. She felt a tingle rushing down her spine, wondering what kind of trouble they would’ve gotten into if their parents knew the other things that they’d done through their youth.

Gator had been her first everything; friend, crush, lover and heartbreak. They’d been far too young when they experienced unknown sensations, feelings and experimented with one another. No one ever knew. They still didn’t know about how her and Gator would rut against one another until they’d make a mess in their pants, how he taught her how to suck his dick and how he enjoyed the way her thighs would lock around his head when he had his tongue buried deep inside of her pussy.

She swallowed her nerves, her lust as she stared at the palm that was resting up towards her. She watched the way Gator’s fingers twitched, wondering if he was just as anxious to feel her skin against his. She breathed in her, her heart hammering as she slowly pressed her hand against his own. She took Hugh’s a second later, trying to remember where she was.

She closed her eyes, trying to listen to the prayer but was unable to focus as her right arm stuttered alive from touching Gator’s hand. His hand was still calloused, his fingers still long and nimble as they connected to hers like a missing glove. She tried not to focus on the way he still rubbed his thumb against her skin in the same manner that he used to.

Their hands lingered for a second too long when the prayer was over. She looked towards him, feeling hundreds of memories rush forward suddenly as she met his warm brown eyes again. She felt like she was a little girl again, doing whatever she could do to catch his attention so he’d look at her. They were still soft and they still made her knees weak and her lungs ache.

She pulled away quickly, dragging her palm across her exposed thigh to try and wipe the memory of his skin against hers again. It was like her hand was betraying her, buzzing in anticipation as she desperately wanted to reach underneath the table and grip his hand again. She thought of the ways they used to play thumb war with one another, how they’d secretly touch and just brush their fingertips against one another’s.

She sat there, trying to eat but unable to erase the jolts of electricity that traveled up her leg each time Gator’s knee brushed against her own. She swore he was doing it on purpose, kicking his feet out further and further just so he could bother her.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” She leaned over to Hugh, distracting his conversation with Oliver, “I’ll be right back.” She promised him, giving his hand a soft squeeze before she excused herself upstairs.

She knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of the house before she pushed the bathroom door open. She began to shut it, only to be met with a pair of brown eyes. She opened her mouth, but quickly fell silent as Gator barreled his way inside.

“What are you doing?” She criticized as Gator shut the door behind him, locking them both in the bathroom. She stared at him in disbelief, fearing what anyone would think if they knew that they were in here alone.

“What the fuck?” He looked at her in anger, his eyebrows knitted together as a trace of confusion laced over his features. She stumbled back a step, taken aback by his sudden outburst.

“What?” She asked him in confusion, slightly alarmed as he took another step closer to her. She didn’t think he’d ever hurt her, but this was a new wave of anger that she’d never seen before.

“Three years ago you said you were going on a missionary trip,” He said in disbelief as he watched her, “You said you’d be back within a week and then you never came back. You stopped answering my calls, my texts. You went silent on social media. I thought you were dead.”

“I was figuring things out.” She said slowly, her eyes wide as she turned away from him out of guilt. Shame. She felt a mixture of all of it. She didn’t regret leaving. She wouldn’t be where she was now if she hadn’t left.

“You mean you were whoring around with that guy?” Gator’s eyebrows knitted together, “Seriously. What do you see in him ?” He spit out, sounding even more upset as he questioned her sharply. She felt a flush settle over her from his words.

“I’m not whoring around,” She said in horror as she felt her eyes widening, “He’s my fiancé .” She told him quickly, feeling like it was ridiculous for her to be labeled in such a way.

“So you’re fucking him?” Gator asked as he propped his hand up against the counter, leaning against his lazily as he watched her. She rolled her shoulders back, thinking of the best way to avoid answering that question. She hadn’t had sex with Hugh yet, she hadn’t even let him touch her in such a manner. She wanted to do it the right way.

“That’s none of your business,” She replied hotly, “How dare you accuse me of doing that sort of thing.” She told him quickly, feeling angered at his accusation. She knew him better than most, heard straight from his lips of the other girls that he had been with.

“Oh,” He looked at her amused as he tilted his head, “You’re not fucking him. How come?” He asked, suddenly moving closer to her. She felt trapped suddenly as her back hit the wall. Her heart hammered roughly inside of her chest, but not from fear. She melted underneath his gaze, her eyes lingering in his pretty brown ones for just a second too long.

“Gator,” She warned softly as she put a finger up to his chest to stop his movements, “Don’t do anything. He’s really nice. He’s good to me.” She whispered softly, feeling like she was fibbing. She wasn’t in any sense. Hugh was good, he was nice. She suddenly wished that he wasn’t, that he could be evil and Gator might swoop her up to save her. She gulped that dream down, as she remembered why she’d left in the first place.

“You want a good man?” Gator asked as he looked down at her, his eyes flashing as he lightly dug his thumb into her cheek. She suddenly felt like it was hard to breathe. Gator wasn’t that much taller than her, the top of her head resting just underneath his bottom lip. Still, she peered up at him as the air between their bodies grew warm.

“Yes,” She answered softly, “What are you doing?” She felt her eyes growing wide as Gator slowly lowered himself onto her knees in front of him. She held her breath, feeling like time had frozen as she held eye contact with him. She felt like she was being swallowed whole, her body warming as she stared at him.

She felt light headed as he slowly pushed her dress up to her hips, his eyes full of desire as he continued to look at her. Her heart was rattling against her chest, thumping so harshly that she feared it might explode.

She found no protests to come forth as he pressed his lips against the birthmark on her left hip. She breathed in deeply, resting her head back against the wall as he peppered a series of kisses against her skin. She could feel her panties growing wet, her clit beginning to throb from anticipation. It had been so long since she’d been touched.

“Reminding you how good I am to you,” He told her huskily as he rolled her panties down her thighs, “Tell me to stop. I’ll stop.” He mumbled as he dragged his lips against her skin, dipping down a little lower as he exposed her to himself.

“Gator-,” She breathed in roughly, finding it was hard to catch her breath when he was looking at her in such a manner. She’d missed his eyes, missed how big and soft they were, “We can’t.” She said at last, thinking of the hazel eyes she’d be betraying. She gulped hard, filled with shame suddenly as she remembered he was only downstairs.

“Do you want me to stop?” Gator asked her seriously, blinking slowly as he watched her with parted lips. She thought of how good his lips always felt around her, how he always knew the right places to press his tongue against. She shook her head softly, “Do you want me to keep going then?” He asked again, his lips curling up into a smirk.

“Yeah,” She breathed out softly, all too familiar with how Gator could be if she didn’t answer him, “I want you.” She told him honestly, not caring about the guilt or shame at the moment. All she could focus on was the throbbing between her legs and how he looked all too desperate to sink his teeth into her.

He hummed in response, looking quite proud of her answer as he kissed the same area of her skin again. She closed her eyes softly, enjoying the way he slowly flicked his tongue across her skin before he nipped at the area.

She gasped, her nipples growing hard against her bra as he dragged his tongue lower and lower. Her clit jolted in anticipation as he spread her thighs a little further, letting his lips press against the area above her pussy. She trembled suddenly as his large hands squeezed the back of her thighs.

She felt her body vibrate as his tongue languidly stroked across her wet folds. Her head fell back against the wall as a moan slipped free. She fought the urge to move her fingers into his thick hair, to ruin how it was styled by dragging him closer to her pussy.

He moved his tongue slowly, like he was savoring the taste of her as he sucked on her folds slowly. She pressed her hips out a little closer, trying to fight the urge to rub up against his mouth. He groaned in response as he dug his fingertips into her flesh, sounding just as desperate to have her.

She couldn’t find the words to speak, to utter as he flicked his tongue slowly through her folds then teased at her clit. He circled the tip of his tongue against her clit, flicking it softly as her body jolted against the sensation. She fought to keep from crying out, her body relishing the feeling of his tongue against her once again.

Her body felt too hot, too warm as his groans vibrated against her skin. She let out a shaky breath, her lips parting widely as she rocked forward against his tongue. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Her fingers never seemed as good as his own and nothing felt as good as his tongue against her cunt.

He moved his tongue down further, circling the tip of it against her neglected hole. She shuddered at the sensation, biting down on her lip harshly as the pleasure spread through her body. She let out a broken moan as he curled his tongue inside of her, licking away the slick from her pussy.

He groaned, flicking his tongue against her like a starving man as he inhaled her taste. She felt her eyebrows knitting tightly together as she pressed her palm lightly against the top of his head, careful not to mess up his slicked back strands.

He brought her closer, clawing at her flesh as he licked and prodded at her cunt. His nose pressed against her clit, digging into the sensitive bud as he lapped his tongue against her fluttering walls. She cried out, gripping the back of her head as she rocked her body against his mouth.

His groans came out muffled and broken, his breath hot as he tickled his tongue against her hole. She could feel the waves of pleasure building inside of her, tickling at her spine as she pressed her fingers harder against the back of his head.

“Gator,” She whimpered as she moved her hips up sporadically, doing her best to silence her whines as his tongue flicked in and out of her fluttering hole. His nose pressed down roughly on her clit, rocking her movements forward as the pleasure shot clear down to her toes, “Jesus.” She bit down harshly on her bottom lip,

She rolled her hips up against his mouth one last time before she stalled, her body shaking as she clamped down around his tongue. Her mind was buzzing, full of pleasure as he squeezed so harshly at her thighs that she feared he’d leave bruises.

“Fuck,” He moaned loudly against her cunt, groaning deeply as he licked away her cum from her cunt. Her thighs shook as he greedily licked at her, sucking softly as he swirled his tongue around her folds, “You taste so good. Can’t believe it’s been so long.” He inhaled deeply, like he was speaking more to himself.

She yelped as the sudden sensation of being pulled down with him, her knees hitting against the floor so harshly that sparks of pain traveled up her knees. She opened her mouth to protest, but was quickly silenced as Gator’s lips connected with hers.

She melted against his mouth, moving her lips against his slick ones rapidly as she recounted the taste of him. Her body was vibrating, flying as his tongue slid inside of her lips and lapped against her own tongue. They kissed sloppily, roughly as he licked the drool from her mouth.

She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, a squeal dying in her chest as he roughly pulled her onto his lap. She moved her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tightly as he brought one of his hands up the curve of her ass.

He roughly gripped her chin, squeezing as he pulled her away from his mouth. She gaped, her lips parting in surprise as she stared at the warm eyes she’d missed so desperately. He moved his fingertips from her chin, up to her bottom lip to before slinking his fingers against her teeth. He pulled on her teeth enough to make her jaw relax, his lips parting as he roughly spit into her mouth.

She gasped, her insides twisting in surprise and pleasure as she felt his spit against her tongue. She paused, nearly letting it slip from her mouth, “Swallow it, bitch.” He replied huskily, his eyes flashing like he was challenging her.

She knew that anyone else in their right mind would smack him for being so degrading, so disgusting. She didn’t. She could feel another moan forming as she rolled his spit around her tongue before she swallowed it slowly, ensuring that she kept eye contact with him.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes flashing as he cupped her ass in his free hand and squeezed harshly. Daphne leaned forward again, her nose brushing against his damp one as they exhaled the same breath. She had an urge to kiss him, to press him against the floor and free his hardened cock from his jeans.

She paused her movements as her hand lingered above his obvious bulge. She lingered for a moment, enjoying the warmth that was floating between them as he slowly raised his hips up to meet her hand. She let her fingers brush against his zipper before she yanked it away, suddenly awake with what had just happened.

“I’ve gotta go,” She said quickly, her legs shaking as she stood. She could feel the guilt settling over her, the shame as she realized what she had just done. She’d spent three years doing whatever she could to forget him, and now she’d let him in with no fuss, “We can’t-, this shouldn’t have happened.” She said at last as she adjusted her dress over her thighs, then over her shoulders so nothing would be suspicious.

“Yeah?” Gator looked at her teasingly, his lips slightly swollen and still wet, “Why’s that?” He asked as he rose to meet her again. She breathed in deeply, glancing at the cloth material he had in his hand. She reached for him, giving him a silent look but he shook his head.

“I’m engaged,” She reminded him softly, “To someone that loves me. This was a sin, it was wrong.” She said at last as the guilt washed over her, feeling so suffocating that she may grow sick. Gator smirked as he held her panties up to his face, taking a deep inhale. She felt her body flush, her eyes widen as his actions.

“But do you love him?” Gator asked softly as he tilted his head while he pocketed her panties into his back pocket. She fumbled for a moment, trying to form the answer on her lips but struggling to do so from his actions, “I best keep these then, you know, for the memory.” He drew his eyes across her features for a quick second, a smirk still placed on his lips.

He turned and left as quickly as he had entered, leaving her with an empty feeling inside of her chest. She gulped hard, feeling like she was finally able to breath as the door shut behind him.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman smut #Gator Tillman x oc #Daphne Williams #Every Little Thing #fargo season 5

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saucy-sassy-sparkly · 1 year

Text

Pursuit of Happiness

1: Meet the Littlemans

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family. When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.

Word Count: ~7k

Warnings: Chris is a bit of a horndog. Lots of swearing, alcohol, sex talk, politically charged topics, chaotic families

Note: Despite spending a lot of my formative years in and around DC, I know absolutely nothing about politics or how things work on The Hill. This also runs the risk of dipping into some political topics (hopefully not heavily, but certainly some commentary and references). If that could trigger you, please avoid this.

Series Masterlist

1: Meet the Littlemans

“It’s navy blue with a hot pink luggage strap around it.”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” the agent’s voice was distant as she sorted through the lost luggage around her, “it isn’t here. I’ll add you to our list. Can I get a name and phone number?” She didn’t even bother to force a smile at Kat as she returned to her computer and started to click buttons, presumably opening up the never-ending list of people whose luggage had been lost by United Airlines.

Kat rattled off her name and number, muttered a quick “thanks” to the agent who had already turned to the next customer, and wrestled with her tote bag over her puffy winter jacket. She shuffled through the hubbub of Dulles baggage claim and made her way to the sliding doors and the waiting arrivals pick-up.

The doors wooshed open and the blustery November air hit her straight in the face, sending her hair flying around her and sticking in her chapstick. Kat stopped abruptly to rummage through her bag and find her beanie, yanking it firmly on her head, and returning to scanning the waiting cars for her father’s huge SUV.

After pacing the sidewalk to the end of the waiting cars, Kat finally reached for her phone in the back of her jeans pocket and groaned when she realized she hadn’t even powered it back on. Being the rule-follower she was, if the flight crew asked that you turn off devices, she dutifully turned all of her devices off and sowed them for the flight. In the chaos at baggage claim, she’d forgotten to turn it back on.

As the screen lit up in her hands, she saw the missed calls and then texts from her father. Or rather… her father’s assistant, Ted. Why a former NFL tight end turned garden fanatic even had an assistant was unfathomable to Kat, but nonetheless she put the phone to her ear and listened to Ted’s voicemail.

“Hi Kathrine, it’s Ted. Ted Brown, Tim’s–err– your father’s assistant that is. I’m calling to let you know that your father tried to pick you up when your flight was scheduled to arrive, but once he learned it was delayed, he came back to the townhouse. He sends his apologies and looks forward to seeing you tomorrow at the gala.”

Clicking over to the texts and finding herself unsurprised to have four texts from Ted, all with the same general message and one with a link to the Uber app (thanks, Ted), and even one from her father that read: Sorry KitKat, Giants/Cowboys game was kicking off!

“For fuck sake, Dad…” she muttered before shoving her phone back in her pocket; Kat then turned to the taxi stand and was grateful there were several waiting. She poured herself into one, gave the driver her hotel address, and sank back into the seat to start doing the math:

It was currently 8:37p. By the time she got to the hotel, checked in, and to her room, it would be at least 9:15p– after a 12-hour travel day that should’ve only been 4 thanks to snow just about everywhere she was exhausted and would likely pass out after shoveling in a granola bar and water bottle from the mini bar. She had to be at a brunch with her mother at 10a Ambar, then was expected to pop over to the townhouse and visit with her father before going back to the hotel to get ready for the gala at 7p. That left her about four hours to find a black tie gown– not to mention something to wear to brunch, clean underwear, and makeup– to replace the one that was lost in the bowels of Dulles International Airport.

She fired off a quick “finally made it, talk tomorrow” text and watched the snowflakes hit the window of the cab and the lights of downtown rush by as the car took the slick streets way too quickly. But, Kat was too tired to care. She’d arrived at the airport with plenty of time for her preflight ritual: a cup of overpriced coffee and 40 minutes to read a smutty novel. She’d watched the big red “delayed” letters flash up on the departure screen once, then twice. After the fourth time, the gate agents stopped giving excuses over the intercom and just started to apologize.

Her flight finally boarded only to sit taxing for another 45 minutes before taking off for the less than two-hour flight. The 7:15p landing had then become an extra hour between waiting for the luggage carousel, discovering her bag was not coming and then hunting down the missing luggage desk.

Tim deciding to bail on pick-up and have his assistant call for him– that was the most consistent part of her day. Tim Littleman was, first of all, the opposite of his name. He was 6’4 but claimed to be 6’6, and had filled out since his professional days when Kat was a kid, but he was still fit and trim for a man in his late 50s. Tim also loved his kids but he loved football just a little bit more, even after being out of the game for years, it wasn’t a surprise– although always a disappointment– when he picked a football game over a drive to the airport with his youngest child.

Kat paid and tipped the driver and tumbled out of the car and into the infamous Watergate Hotel– her mother’s favorite spot to put Kat up for the night when she visited. Mallory always insisted it was to make life easier for Kat; as a 31-year-old, she’d obviously want her privacy from her parents when she was visiting! Over the years, Kat had stopped rolling her eyes or even bickering with her mother and had instead accepted a free stay in a balcony suite overlooking the Potomac River.

As expected, she passed out almost immediately and woke up with a start to her alarm sounding at 7:45a. The morning passed in a blur, sprinting to the nearest Zara for a quick brunch outfit to meet with Mallory and several of Mallory’s WASPy DC friends, then back to the hotel to shower and change, then back out again for brunch where her mother barely interacted with her and then headed back to her office while Kat went to the townhouse for coffee with Tim to discuss the prospects in his greenhouse garden back in Connecticut, and then back out shopping again. With only an hour to spare, she’d found a dress and pumps for the black-tie gala– an event to raise money for some important cause her mother only vaguely mentioned in her email requesting Kat’s attendance.

She was actually quite pleased with the last-minute find feeling confident when she’d examined herself in the mirror, and it fit all of Mallory’s qualifications which were: black tie appropriate, black or navy, and tasteful.

Kat used the polished metal reflection of the elevator doors to check herself one more time, smoothing down the black fabric and tossing her hair over her shoulder. The sound of the event met her ears before the doors slid open: laughter, clinking glasses, and quiet music. When she stepped out onto the plush carpet, she saw several familiar faces immediately and offered small waves and smiles while she studied the sea of people for one of her parents.

“Kathrine,” a perfectly manicured claw wrapped around Kat’s bicep signaled Mallory before she pulled her daughter around and closer to the nearest wall, “what are you wearing?”

“Hi, Mom, you look nice,” Kat deadpanned, bracing herself for impact as she took in her mother. Mallory was dressed in a perfectly tailored champagne number that was likely her typical Ralph Lauren. Her hair was pulled back in a tight French twist and she looked every bit the upper-crust Connecticut woman she was.

“This is highly inappropriate,” Mallory reached up and started to play with Kat’s hair, pulling it over her shoulders.

“I have no idea how to respond to that,” Kat bit back her urge to tell her mother that her dress looked like a wedding gown.

“Kathrine, this is just… it is far too sexy for this event.”

“This is the best I could do on short notice.”

“Short notice! You’ve known for months,” Mallory hissed at her daughter, dropping her voice so the women standing near them wouldn’t hear.

“Mom,” Kat huffed, “I told you at brunch that United lost my bag. I had to go out and get this today.”

“Right, right,” she waved at her daughter, still reaching out to maneuver her hair. “Well there is nothing we can do now,” she sighed and finally gave up before pushing her shoulders back.

Behind her was a ballroom full of political powerhouses– senators, congresspersons, aids, donors, and all the other powerful DC folks who liked to gather in rooms together and remind each other how important they are. Mallory had been working her way up the political world for years, starting on the Board of Education in Kat’s hometown (not that Mallory Littleman would’ve ever sent her children to public school, even in their wealthy town) and now just after her second election as a state senator. Hence, Kat’s summons to attend as part of the senator’s loving family. Kat hated these events… but showed up anyway.

Mallory huffed and dropped her hands to her hips, squaring her jaw at her daughter. “Don’t bring up your job.” This was a common command; never ever talk about work. Kat nodded dutifully.

“Yes ma’am.”

“And don’t mention your… that you… the…”

Kat cut her off and failed to contain her eye roll this time, “I won’t let anyone know that we’re not the perfect family.”

“Thank you,” she said curtly, still eyeing her daughter’s dress.

“Did that hurt,” Kat laughed, looking at the tight expression on her mother’s face after displaying gratitude for her daughter.

“Do not sass me, Kathrine. Tonight is a big deal. I need it to go well.”

Kat sighed, “yes ma’am,” and neglected to bring up the fact that Mallory said that for every political event to which she dragged her daughter.

Mallory ignored her, “you know who I need you to talk to?”

Kat nodded, “I was briefed by your aids. Which, by the way, I would’ve preferred to do with you than your 19-year-old college interns.”

“I mean they are hired to take things off my plate.”

“Where’s dad, Senator Littleman?”

“Kathrine,” Mallory’s tone was warning as she turned back to Kat, “please behave.”

“Promise, Senator, now I’m going to find Dad,” Kat pushed past her mother and started to move through the room, listening for her father’s loud laughter. Despite his faults, he was the far easier parent to be around. He was easy to talk to and could entertain a crowd: the perfect way to disappear in one of these large functions was to stand near Tim and let him relive his glory days to people who just oohed and ahhed appropriately in hopes that he would end up writing them some kind of donation check.

She spotted him across the room regaling a group of men. As she passed by familiar faces, she greeted them politely, engaging in small talk when necessary, and pushing her way closer and closer to Tim. When he caught a glimpse of her, his face split into a grin and he threw his arms wide, stepping between the men surrounding him, “There’s my KitKat!” He wrapped her in a hug, smothering her in his heavily applied Polo Blue. When he kissed her cheek and draped his arm over her shoulder, he turned back to the group, “Gents, this is my beautiful daughter Kathrine.”

Kat reached out her hand to shake with the shortest of the group, who introduced himself as Mark, “Kat is fine, it’s nice to meet you.”

Exchanging quick greetings with the other two, Joe and Chris, Tim quickly charged back in control of the conversation before she could say more, “Sweetheart, these boys are trying to get me to spend some money on them.”

Mark, or maybe it was Joe, jumped in with a laugh, immediately changing the narrative to describe the new political platform they were developing, but Kat had essentially stopped listening. She was too busy batting her eyelashes at Chris. He stood almost a head taller than her, his shoulders filling out his navy tuxedo in the most delicious way. His perfectly styled hair, his relaxed stance with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a beer– how refreshing; no one in DC admitted to liking something as lowly as beer, much less a Sam Adams.

He’d had been the last to introduce himself and their hands had lingered while Chris’s blue eyes blatantly trailed slowly down her body. She’d felt a blush rising in her cheeks when his eyes met hers again and a very brief but very smug smirk crossed his features.

Slowly he returned his focus to his colleagues and let them continue to explain their new venture, glancing at Kat now and then, who got caught staring back almost every time. She had to force herself to stare at Joe and Mark while they spoke, feeling Chris’s eyes trail over her skin.

As soon as she’d approached, Chris’s eyes had been immediately drawn to the skin of Kat’s thigh exposed in her dress. Most of the room was filled with an older crowd, the younger women in the room choosing much more conservative dresses for this event. Kat’s choice, with her shoulders, a hint of cleavage, and all that leg made Chris practically salivate. He’d been back and forth to DC for the last several months as he, Joe, and Mark tried to build a following and convince the political world to work with them; each time he was surrounded by women in pantsuits or blazers. The young aides usually wore their outfits slightly tighter, but it was still the same variations of cream, navy, and red work dresses… not that it had stopped him from spending some time getting to know a few of those women.

When the three men had entered the ballroom this evening, he’d been prepared with their usual speech, ready to network and subtly beg for support. He hadn’t been prepared to be adjusting his pants at the sight of this woman’s tight ass when she turned to hug her father. Chris didn’t even bother to scold himself; they’d been working all weekend, and more importantly, Kat’s eyes were drawn to him too.

Kat recognized Chris, albeit not immediately, but after several minutes of making eyes at each other while the people around them talked, it clicked into place that she’d seen some movies that featured his washboard abs and perfectly cut pecs. She watched his reaction when she tossed her hair over her shoulder, exposing her skin (and bumping her father’s hand, which briefly ruined her moment before regaining composure); his eyes moved across her collarbone and up her neck, settling a steady gaze back on her.

No one was paying attention to them anyway. Joe and Mark were chatting away and Tim was listening the best his ADHD and slightly narcissistic brain allowed him.

“Well boys,” Tim finally said, both literally and figuratively jolting his daughter back to reality with a shake of her shoulder, “that is a truly terrific pitch, but I’m the wrong one to give it to. Just didn’t have the heart to stop you. My wife, Mallory, is the politician in the family.”

As if summoned, Mallory’s voice called over Kat’s shoulder, “there you two are,” in a huff and appeared at her daughter’s side, putting more distance between Kat and Chris. Tim remade the introductions of the group and Kat didn’t miss the way Chris’s eyes stayed on her, not Mallory, when the three of them once again began to explain their idea.

This time, Chris did most of the talking, Joe and Mark only offering occasional additions, but he continued to flicker his eyes to Kat. Kat found herself more impressed; she’d assumed he was the Hollywood buy-in to get politicians' attention, not part of the actual brain power. She listened to him, adding her own questions as her mother did the same, and watched him get more and more animated as he rattled off what seemed to be a heartfelt passion project.

He finally paused when Joe took over explaining the technical side to Mallory and Kat allowed herself to look back at his stupidly handsome face; he lifted his beer towards her and raised his eyebrow, silently asking if she wanted a drink.

Kat started to nod when a well-dressed staff member approached and invited them to find their seats, dinner was being served. Chris spoke up before the group separated, “I’m going to grab another drink before I go to the table, can I get anyone anything?” He looked pointedly at Kat who started to speak when her mother spoke for her.

“What a lovely offer, but Kathrine and I don’t drink. Tim?” She turned to her husband, letting him give Chris his drink order, before wrapping her hand around Kat’s arm and pulling her away from the group towards the clusters of tables without a goodbye.

“Kathrine, don’t even think about it,” she hissed, staring at the place cards on a long table and searching for theirs. She reached across Kat, snatched all three off the table, pulled Kat towards table 4, and continued, “I knew this dress was too much for tonight.”

“What are you talking about, Mom?”

“I saw the look on your face and that boy's. Don’t you dare.”

They’d reached the table and Mallory immediately dropped Kat’s arm, circling to say hello to their companions. Kat tucked herself into the nearest chair and immediately moved for the bread basket, perking up when she discovered the rolls were still warm. Mallory perched on the chair next to Kat, still in conversation with another one of DC's most powerful people whose name Kat could never remember… nor ever tried to.

Tim joined them shortly, sliding into the chair on Mallory’s other side and calling a loud, “see you boys later,” and toasted them as Joe, Mark, and Chris walked away. Kat’s eyes flickered up to catch Chris’s, offering a coy smile to his nod.

“That is what I’m talking about,” Mallory was back in her ear, using her butter knife to gesture at Chris’s broad, retreating back.

“Mother, relax, I just smiled at him.”

“You think I was born yesterday? That was not just a smile.”

“You do realize I’m 31 years old, right? And it is perfectly acceptable to smile at a man or even, god forbid, flirt with him.” Kat’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she spread her napkin on her lap.

“I don’t care how old you are, you reflect my campaign and my values every time you’re seen with me. If there are pictures of you kissing Captain fucking America, it is a direct reflection of me.”

“Literally no one cares who your adult daughter kisses.”

“You don’t think it comes up every election? You don’t think that you and your brother and… Do you know how much of my staff it takes to be sure that our family doesn’t get our business blasted across headlines?”

“I wish you realized how much America did not care about my sex life or Ben’s,” Kat reached for her ice water and sipped slowly, wishing it was a vodka tonic, and glanced at her mother’s furrowed brow, “Careful, Mom, your Botox doesn’t like when you frown.”

Mallory huffed and leaned away to start speaking to Tim, whispering frantically at him and casting sidelong glances at Kat. Kat, however, leaned back in her chair and allowed the woman next to her– a Congressman from Minnesota’s wife– to share all of the details of the grandchild her daughter was expecting. Kat had to bite her tongue while she listened to the several-minute monologue about how silly she found it that some people wouldn’t want to buy gender-specific baby clothes anymore. She let the woman talk, as she did most of these people, and let her mind wander, only staying focused enough to offer the occasional, “you don’t say” or “wow, that’s incredible.”

She truly loathed these events. She’d lost track over the years of how many she’d shown up to, how often her mother trotted her out like a prized pony to amplify her mother’s strong family value platform before being sent back home to her normal life. Each time it came with an all-expenses paid plane ticket and hotel, several– usually public to avoid real conversation– visits with her mother, at least one major political fundraiser/gala/rally/etc., and then a quick and once again public goodbye from Mallory before the whole ordeal was over.

Kat knew she could stop coming, stop being hassled by her mother and used as a pawn, she knew that she could and certainly should stop saying yes and start saying no. Ben always reminded her that no was a complete sentence.

Ben.

Ben had stopped coming to these the second he moved out of the house, right about the same time that Mallory and Tim–mostly Mallory– had refused to acknowledge that Ben might not actually be the preppy, lacrosse-playing womanizer he was bred to be and was instead questioning all parts of his identity. He’d moved to Vancouver for a job, and met a wonderful man, Kevin, who Kat adored and had never looked back.

Kat missed him terribly, even after almost 10 years of living several time zones apart, and looked forward to their annual September trip together. They’d meet somewhere each year to celebrate their birthdays… four days and four years apart… together, often surrounded by other people they loved but never ever with their parents.

Kat couldn’t actually remember the last time the four of them shared the same air. It had to have been a holiday while Kat was still in high school and Ben was home from college for a break. She knew that he occasionally emailed Tim or exchanged a quick phone call, but that Ben hadn’t spoken to their mother since the day he’d graduated from college. At their celebration dinner, he’d handed her a check and said, “I won’t owe you anything ever again,” and flown to Canada the next morning. Kat had been devastated but she knew what it was like for Ben to grow in their house. She knew the best thing for him was to put the Canadian Border Patrol between him and Mallory.

Ben was her rock, one of her favorite humans, and her constant reminder that she was a pawn in Mallory’s system and needed to get out before people started to think she actually supported their mother’s platforms. That thought pulled her back into the conversation with the Congresswoman’s wife just in time to force a cheerful, “hurry back!” when she’d told Kat she needed to use the ‘little girl’s room’ and scurried off.

Kat took the moment to enjoy the silence and scanned the room. The sea of tables was tastefully if subtly decorated in muted tones and low centerpieces on each table to allow for conversation. There had to be at least 50 tables, each holding anywhere from 10-12 guests, all various members of wealthy DC society. The majority were politicians and their donor friends; a perk of donating thousands of dollars to a cause was getting to attend other functions for free as a ‘thank you for your support’… only to be expected to write a check at the end for whichever cause the evening endorsed.

Five tables away, she found Chris’s gelled hair and sharp jawline in profile while he laughed at something the woman next to him said. She allowed herself the moment to admire the imperfect slope of his nose, the way his smile showed all his teeth, and the way his biceps were visibly flexing even under his jacket as he lifted his fork to his mouth.

“He is very handsome, I’ll give you that,” Mallory leaned closer to her daughter, who had been actively ignoring her mother trying to catch her eye, “but do not embarrass me tonight, Kathrine.”

“And what would be embarrassing for you, Mom?” Kat sighed and looked at her mom.

Mallory paused, glancing at her husband who was deep in conversation, and back at Kat, “if you did something inappropriate with him.”

Kat grinned slyly, knowing how much her mother hated these kinds of conversations, “what do you consider inappropriate?”

“You know what I mean,” she huffed.

“I’m not sure that I do. Could you explain it to me?”

Mallory sighed heavily and waggled her finger, “do not go home with that boy.”

“He seems to be all man,” Kat countered, her eyes traveling back to Chris just to spite her frustrated, demanding mother. He was rising from the table and gesturing to his tablemates, seemingly taking drink orders.

“Kathrine Marissa Littleman,” Mallory’s voice dropped low and Kat knew she’d hit a nerve, “I do not need any gossip because of you, there has already been enough talk about everything else in our family.”

“There hasn’t been anything to talk about for years, Mom, please give me a break. I’m a grown-up.”

Mallory shot her one last look and stood from her seat, moving around behind Kat and towards an empty seat at the other side of the table to start working the room now that she’d finished her meal– it didn’t matter to her that no one else had.

Kat reached into her clutch and rifled around for a pen, finding one at the bottom, and slid her place card towards her. She folded open the thick cardstock and write inside it, closing it back up and slipping the pen back in her purse before whispering, “back in a bit,” to Tim, who waved his acknowledgment, and she moved through the room to the bar.

Chris leaned on the bar in front of her, chatting with the bartender as he gathered the drinks for Chris’s table. She took a deep breath and stepped beside him and ordered a vodka tonic from the other barkeep; her voice caught Chris’s attention, who leaned on one arm.

“Kathrine,” her name in his deep timbre sent a chill down her spine and a warmth filling her belly.

“Christopher,” she countered, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him.

“I see that ‘we don’t drink’ thing was bullshit,” he nodded to the drink she now took a deep swallow from.

“Just another politician making things up.”

He gathered the drinks from the bartender– another beer for him, a wine for one of his tablemates, and a scotch for Joe, and turned to her– “Gimme a second. Don’t move.”

Kat nodded and watched him strut away; she toyed with the place card in her hand. She flipped it open, looking at her handwriting on the inside, and looked back up at Chris, who was just arriving at the table. Throwing her shoulders back, she followed after him, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I thought you were waiting for me,” he said quietly, dipping his head low to talk to her.

“I changed my mind,” she smiled and slid her hand down from his shoulder, briefly across his bicep, and to grip his large hand. She squeezed, pushing the cardstock into his hands, and turned gracefully on her heels. She moved slowly, knowing he was watching her, and swung her hips ever so slightly as she made her way across the room to the exit closest to the elevator.

She entered it alone, letting the doors slide shut and giving her a chance to take a deep breath, and another gulp of her drink before the doors were opening again on her floor.

In her room, she finished off her drink and mixed a new one from the minibar, and then moved across the suite to stand at the sliding glass doors. Her heart was pounding in her chest with both anticipation and anxiety, knowing she could be stood up, but hoping she’d read him right. Several long minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. Kat took her time to cross the room, finishing off her second drink on the way, and pulling the door open to Chris standing, both hands in his pockets, on the threshold.

“Hey you,” his crooked grin melted any nerves she had and she reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the room; she shut the door after dropping the “do not disturb” sign on the handle and turning to face him.

“Drink?” She started to move around him towards the mini bar but he used their still connected hand to pull her to him.

“Maybe after,” his boyish grin was gone and replaced with a sexy smirk; he held their hands to his chest while his other hand reached up to her shoulder, pushing a few strands of hair off her neck. His fingertips trailed along her clavicle before coming to rest at the back of her neck and leaning towards her.

He slotted his lips over Kat’s, the kiss hovering for a moment in sweetness before his tongue swiped at her bottom lip and the movement shifted. Kat stepped closer to him, allowing his tongue to swipe against hers and pushing her chest into his while his hands covered all the planes of her body, squeezing her hips and her ass, trailing gentle touches up her arms and into her hair to hold her to him and continue the needy kiss. She slid her hands up his body and tugged at his bow tie, feeling grateful for making out with Miles Sharpton at cotillion who taught her how to untie a butterfly knot. Once it fell around his neck, she slid her arms under his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Chris let it hit the floor and stepped away from it to push Kat– one hand on her hips, the other still grasping her neck— towards the dresser.

The backs of her thighs bumped the large wooden piece and she let herself lean against it while he pressed into her, his mouth now trailing her neck and his hands grasping at the back of her dress, pawing for the zipper. Kat pushed his chest away from him, his lips pulling from hers with an audible suction noise, and she panted to catch her breath while her fingers worked their way down the buttons of his shirt. Each one she popped open exposed more of his chest, undershirt, and, to her surprise, a smattering of dark ink that made her mouth water.

She leaned forward and kissed the exposed skin, while she continued her journey down to his belt. Kat tugged his shirt free from his pants and glanced up at him through hooded eyes to find him watching her. Chris’s hands were rubbing her shoulders, raising goosebumps on her skin and sending a fire straight to her core.

Her hands hovered on his belt buckle, slowing the momentum of the last several minutes but giving neither of them pause. Chris watched her, licking his lips and trying to decide which way he wanted her to come first. “Don’t stop now, baby,” his voice had dropped dangerously low and he cupped her chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb along her bottom lip, “or I’m going to take over.”

Kat blushed deeply but held his gaze; she felt her panties dampen even more with those few words and she finished unclasping his belt, whipping it out of the loops dramatically and winking at him when he chuckled. Slowly, agonizingly slowly for Chris, she popped the button of his trousers and then slid the zipper down, holding his eyes and watching his Adam’s apple subtly bob.

Keeping her eyes glued to Chris’s, she slid her hands under the waistband of his pants, still over his boxer briefs, and rubbed slowly down his length, then back up, then back down again, reaching all the way through to briefly caress all of him before dropping her eyes to see the hard bulge that seemed to just keep growing under her hand. When Kat looked away, he took the opportunity to close his and open his jaw, letting out a low groan when she squeezed him back and forth, teasing him, knowing that he wanted her lips on his cock but she wouldn’t give it to him just yet.

She continued her work, flicking her eyes back up at him and taking in the way his chest heaved and his eyes fluttered when she stroked him in just the right away. All this response and everyone still had their clothes on…

After more minutes of this agonizingly slow tease, Chris groaned and dropped his head to press his forehead into Kat’s and growled, yanking her upright and twirling her around. “It’s my turn to tease, Kitty Kat.” The impulsive nickname made Kat’s heart skip a beat but she shoved down that feeling and leaned back into his strong chest. He held her in his arms, one wrapped around her stomach, the other reaching towards her zipper, dragging it down slowly and his hand on her stomach pulled the fabric of the gown down just enough to expose her breasts. Both of his hands slowly slithered up her body to cup them in his palms, rolling her peaked nipples between his thumb and forefingers while he kissed her neck.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded between open-mouth kisses; one of his hands dropped her breast and used it to push her hair off her neck and expose her other shoulder, licking a stripe from the nape of her neck to her earlobe and planting a kiss behind her ear. Kat’s eyes flew open, surprised to find that he’d positioned them in front of the dresser mirror where his eyes were watching her reflection.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her breasts exposed and being palmed by his large hands, Chris’s face kissing all across any exposed skin he could reach, all while never breaking eye contact. He leaned his weight into her and she felt his hard cock against her ass; she pressed her hips back into him, grinding against him and letting out a moan before closing her eyes again to enjoy all the sensations.

“Open,” he said again, his tone leaving no room for question. He pulled his lips away from hers and he stood to his full height behind her– even in her heels she was still inches shorter than him, “I want you to watch yourself.”

Kat nodded, not knowing what else to do and allowing herself to melt entirely into his embrace and his command.

His right hand left her breast and moved tantalizingly across her sternum, her stomach, and to the thigh-high slit in her dress. Chris bent forward slightly to pull the fabric up and allow him access to her lacy thong. He bunched the dress up the best he could, pushing as much fabric out of the way to expose her in the mirror and trace a finger along the top hem of her panties. His left hand still played with her breast and now, she grasped his right forearm, bracing herself against him and using her left hand to reach behind her and hold onto his hip.

Chris traced the edge of her thong again, dipping his finger under the elastic and then back out multiple times before finally sliding his hand all the way down to cup her core. He groaned into her ear as his pointer finger swiped through the wetness between her legs, “all this for me, Kitten?”

“Please,” she whimpered, bucking her hips against him in anticipation.

He hummed in agreement, nuzzling into her hair and pressing his finger into her entrance, slowly pumping in and out at a painfully slow pace. Kat dropped her head back on his shoulder, obediently keeping her eyes open to watch his hand move in the mirror. His thumb found her clit and pressed against it, moving just as slowly. She rolled her hips, trying to find more friction, more pressure, more anything, but he stilled his movements and tutted, “not yet, Kathrine.”

She whined and pushed her weight against his chest, nudging her nose against his neck and pressing messy kisses to his jaw. Her reward was a second finger pressed inside of her, slowly making a come hither motion while his thumb started to increase the pressure and pace on her clit. After more minutes of playing with her, he leaned in to kiss her lips muttering against her, “you ready, baby? You going to come now, sweetheart?” as he continued to increase the intensity and Kat’s hips moved to meet him. He pulled away from her lips, removing his hand from her breast to gently but firmly grasp her chin and turn her to face the mirror again, “watch, baby, c’mon,” he grunted, his hips now joining the fray, “c’mon, Kat, come for me, baby.”

Kat let out a strangled, semi-pornographic moan when her orgasm hit her hard, her ears ringing and her whole body shaking in Chris’s arms. He slowed his rhythm, working her over the edge and through the intensity, giving her a moment of reprieve while he kissed her shoulders, her neck, her cheek, and pulled her lips to his to give her a long, wet kiss.

“Do you have a condom,” she muttered against him, ready to feel him inside of her the moment his fingers slid out. He released her with a quick kiss, stumbling in his pants that were still undone and sagging toward his tuxedo jacket. He fished in for his wallet while Kat studied herself, still trying to catch her breath.

Chris appeared in the mirror behind her again, his hands falling to her hips and pulling the fabric of her dress up quickly. She helped him, letting the dress bunch at her hips, her breasts still exposed and now her ass as well. He stepped back from her and she watched him in the mirror.

He was palming himself in his shorts, one hand still on the curve of her hip and she arched her back slightly, giving him a more full view of her. Chris glanced up in the mirror to find her smirking; he stopped palming himself to tuck both thumbs in the waistband of her thong and drag it down her legs, helping her step out of it and tossing it somewhere in the dim room.

Still, on his knees behind her, his hands traced up her calves, the back of her knees, her thighs, as he rose to stand and smacked her ass, watching her flesh bounce. Feeling impatient, she wiggled at him, arching her back even deeper. He chuckled, “you’re ready for me, pretty girl?”

He met her eyes in the mirror and she bit her lip, nodding and watching him drop his boxer briefs. From her place in front of him, she didn’t have a good view but she listened to him snap on the condom and then mewed when he rubbed the tip of his cock through her arousal.

With one hand on her hip and the other pushing her neck to lean her closer to the dresser, he pushed into her without warning, causing Kat to cry out at the stretch. He stilled, kissed her shoulder, and waited for her to nod before he started a steady, deep rhythm, hitting the soft, spongy parts she so desperately craved. The salacious sounds of his hips meeting her ass, his grunts, and Kat’s sighs and moans filled the room quickly while he pounded into her, the pace ever increasing. Kat fumbled with her dress, trying to get to her clit. Chris moved his hand from her waist, still keeping one on her neck to hold her steady, and licked his fingers before reaching around her hips and quickly building another steady rhythm on her clit. Over and over again he thrust into her, circling her clit and groaning into her neck.

“C’mon, Kat, come for me again, let go, Kitten,” he growled while her velvet walls squeezed him tight, “I can’t hold on, come, baby,” he babbled, rocking his hips while her hips pushed back against him, chasing her release. It hit her quickly, making her legs shake and then wobble, struggling to support her weight. Chris finished with a moan drilling inside of her and draping his body over hers that was slumped against the dresser. He planted kisses on her shoulder, her neck, and then down the top of her spine before gently helping her come upright. Kat turned in his arms and slid into the dresser, letting her back lean against the mirror and lazily tugging her gown to cover her breasts just enough.

Chris snagged a few tissues from the nightstand and handed her some while he cleaned up and disposed of the condom in the trash can by the desk. He tucked himself back into his briefs and came to stand between Kat’s useless legs. He leaned forward and planted his palms on the dresser beside her legs to kiss her lazily, their tongues swiping at each other and showing no urgency.

Finally, Kat pulled back and reached up to push his hair back in place the best she could. “Your business partners will wonder where you went,” she whispered, giving him an out.

He raised an eyebrow at her, “what about that drink?”

“Next time,” she shrugged, sliding off the dresser knowing there would be no ‘next time’ and moving towards her shopping bags for the zip-up and leggings she’d bought today. Once they were in her arms, she turned back to Chris still standing there, pants around his ankles, and looking confused. “I’m going to take a shower,” she pressed up on her toes and kissed his lips once more before crossing in front of him and stepping into the large bathroom.

#chris+evans+fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x ofc #chris evans angst #chris evans smut #chris evans series #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans

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midnightmah07 · 10 months

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This is shorter than the usual but hehe having a brainrot on their friendship:

Would he?

Sat in bed the teenager girl tossed her shoes away, with a irritated sigh leaving her. Isabelle took the yellow bow that held her brown hair in a low ponytail away crossing her arms with a frustrated pout.

“I wonder what he did this time.” Adeline says with amused expression and a softly sly chuckle, referring to the friend’s arranged fiancé, who would constantly get in her nerves. Isabelle kept her pout and bothered attitude up. “Oh, come on. Leona is bad, I know. But not that bad!” She hop up into Isabelle’s bed, taking off her shoes and placing them on the floor. “Come on, what is it?”

The deep sigh left Isabelle’s lungs as she looks into Adeline’s brown honey eyes. “Is just…” She moves her hands around as if them spoke for her awhile she tried to find the correct words. “Leona has come to be awfully annoying. Like, usually it would annoy me when he talked. But now, it’s only his presence that annoys me deeply! His words make a knot in my stomach and it gets harder to talk and I just want to punch him-“

“-Oh? Is that it?” Adeline raises her eyebrow, with the small smirk and curious look in her face, with that she had caught Isabelle’s attention to her next words. “Well, there might be a new feeling on you towards him.”

Adeline stands up with a small wink, waiting for Isabelle to understand.

“What are you implying…” The face goes from confusion, to shock, to angry. More to a denial type of anger. She immediately stands up ready to deny everything. “No! You don’t have the right to think I am starting to like Leona as something romantically!”

“When did I said that? Are you assuming what I said or admitting things about yourself? Maybe both?” Adeline’s wide grin stays there awhile her hands in her hips, leaning forward to stay in Isabelle’s level. As the girl just stay there quiet. “Oh, dear. It’s more than okay you feel that towards him.”

“No it’s not! I mean… He is Leona Kingscholar. Let’s be frank, Adeline. When he has ever take something serious?”

Raising her eyebrow Adeline catches immediately on Isabelle’s worries. “Ah, I see. You are considering he might not want you because of your constant bickering, isn’t that?”

Isabelle eyes travel to the floor, as she stays silent, giving her answer through the whisper of the air in the room. She didn’t had to answer, Adeline knew it, as always. “It’s new, quite alarming. I mean, me? Madame Kingscholar? Not even in my best nightmares!” Adeline chuckles of Isabelle’s choice of words. “Who would ever thought this could be?”

“Well, true, that he is no… Uhm… Prince Charming. But, you can’t deny it, Isa… There is something in him, that you didn’t saw before.”

Isabelle turns to the side hugging herself. Adeline’s places her hand in the girl’s shoulder like a caring old sister type of friend. “But do you recall? He was mean and he was coarse and unrefined! But after that night… He’s no longer just that… I mean, he will always and ever be this jerk and bastard, but now he's dear, and so unsure. I wonder why I didn't see that side of him before.”

“Yet…” Adeline makes her way to the window staring down their dorm, with head full of thoughts. “He wouldn’t change from night to day with you without a reason, would he?” She looks to Isabelle, but head still forward to the window.

“I don’t know, would he?”

KICKING MY BLANKET GIGGLING BLUSHING-- THIS IS SO CUTE AHHHH THE WRITING BEING THE SAME THING AS THE LYRICS FROM THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST SONG THIS IS SO GOOD AAAHSHISJWDOXJDNNEOXNDNEIDJEKNSJXI

HOLD U TIGHTLY SHAKES YOU VIOLENTLY BARBARAAAAAAAAAAA THUS IS SO LOVELY TYSM I ADORE THIS AND OH MY GOSH I LOVE ADELINE SHE'S WONDERFUL AND PERFECT I ADORE THEM

#💙! mah's answers #💙! moots!!!#💙! barbs<3 #💙! Barbs's writting!#SOBS #I LOVE THEM SM #ISA IT'S FINE JUST ADMIT U LIKE HIM IT'S OK

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ash-and-books · 1 year

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Rating: 4.5/5

Book Blurb: Tilly in Technicolor is Mazey Eddings's sparkling YA debut about two neurodivergent teens who form a connection over the course of a summer.

Tilly Twomley is desperate for change. White-knuckling her way through high school with flawed executive functioning has left her burnt out and ready to start fresh. Working as an intern for her perfect older sister’s start up isn’t exactly how Tilly wants to spend her summer, but the required travel around Europe promises a much-needed change of scenery as she plans for her future. The problem is, Tilly has no idea what she wants.

Oliver Clark knows exactly what he wants. His autism has often made it hard for him to form relationships with others, but his love of color theory and design allows him to feel deeply connected to the world around him. Plus, he has everything he needs: a best friend that gets him, placement into a prestigious design program, and a summer internship to build his resume. Everything is going as planned. That is, of course, until he suffers through the most disastrous international flight of his life, all turmoil stemming from lively and exasperating Tilly. Oliver is forced to spend the summer with a girl that couldn’t be more his opposite—feeling things for her he can’t quite name—and starts to wonder if maybe he doesn’t have everything figured out after all.

As the duo’s neurodiverse connection grows, they learn that some of the best parts of life can’t be planned, and are forced to figure out what that means as their disastrously wonderful summer comes to an end.

Review:

Two neurodivergent teens, a summer internship in Europe, and a sweet romance. Tilly Twomley is looking forward for the chance to get away and enjoy her summer, away from the feeling that she's disappointing her parents and a burden to them, and finally just get some time to be herself and make the most of her summer visiting Europe. Tilly has ADHD and her parents are concerned about her future and constantly putting pressure on her, they treat her as if she's flawed... and so they send her to be an intern for her sister, the same sister who is perfect and graduated from Yale and started her own business. Tilly isn't exactly looking forward to being an intern but she is definitely looking forward to spending time exploring Europe and being away from her parents. Oliver Clark knows exactly what he wants and what his goals are. Oliver has autism that makes it hard for him to form relationships with people but he has one true passion: his love for color theory and design and when he lands the perfect summer internship he can't wait to begin. Yet on the plane ride there, both Oliver and Tilly have a very unlikely meeting and unforgettable and disastrous flight filled with mix ups, throw up, and awkwardness. Oliver and Tilly thought their plane ride would be the last they saw of each other... only to then discover that they will be interning together and spending the summer together. Two neurodiverse individuals, a summer filled with beautiful moments, and a summer neither of them will forget. This was a sweet and fun story told from dual POVs, both Tilly and Oliver were great characters to read about and seeing them deal with their own neurodiverse experiences as well as how they support one another was really great.

*Thanks Netgalley and St. Martin's Press, Wednesday Books for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

#book review #bookish #tilly in technicolor

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moonlarked · 1 year

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hi 1. your oc post devastating destructive i am emotion and also 2. i realize i know very little about mars so if u have the time and energy would LOVE to hear about them as long or short of a ramble as u would like i just want to know More!!!

Oh gosh, mars is so much of a person quite the character. She’s almost therapeutic to think about even tho her story is the opposite of happy. I haven’t gotten all of the specifics down but I do have a general idea of how her story goes, so I’m gonna write it down here. Warning tho, it’s rough and has to do with child abuse and self-harm and suicide.

She’s a wandering spirit who can travel across different universes and has been doing so as long as she can remember. She’s immensely power, can alter reality without knowing it, and it really scares her and she can never get too close to anyone. She’s ageless and doesn’t really have a fixed form - her body is constantly untangling and evaporating into smoke like substances, and she doesn’t really have one true face. The only reason she has a name is because she woke up with a ripped piece of paper saying “MAR” and she named herself after the warlike god she found in the first realm she went to.

The only beings who are even close to being like her are the chaos spawn she finds popping up in realms. They are mortal, however, and don’t have as large of a grasp on the multiverse as she does. They can only see what’s in front of them, while she sees everything, she sees so much that she blocks it out of her brain.

Then, one day, she meets Victor.

Victor is a god. More powerful than her, and he’s been looking for her for a long time, so he says. He brings her to a library in between universes and he shows her the books of timelines and worlds and he teaches her how the worlds work and how she’s part of them. He lets her take a pen and alter.

Then he tells her about the chaos spawn, the beings she found in other worlds. He tells her about how they are creations of Chaos, and how he’s fascinated by them. Mars sees them as fractures; she thinks they shouldn’t exist, that they’re ruining the stability of the multiverse. She takes one of his books and shows him how neat the timelines fit; how they’re like a flipbook, one after another. He laughs at her and says that she’s a being of chaos, he is too, everyone is. It’s only natural.

She doesn’t agree, but she lets it slide. Eventually she meets Luka. Luka seems to be Victor’s assistant, just a normal human with seemingly no purpose. Victor doesn’t like it when they’re alone together, though. He says that he took Luka in out of the kindness of his heart, but they’re not the same.

(I don’t have the rest of this fully ironed out, but here we go.)

Flash forward to later when she finds herself alone with Luka. Victor has been becoming more and more paranoid and she’s wondering if it’s new or if he was hiding it all that time. He’s not quite seeing straight right now so she’s able to get away without him noticing her. Luka takes the time to tell her the truth - aka what Victor brought her here for. There’s a being called the Antithesis and its very existence is so chaotic and unnatural that it can go against the gods. Because here’s the thing - Victor isn’t a god. He’s a human who was somehow granted godlike powers and given this library and not quite free reign but enough to think that he was. And of course he’s not a god because gods aren’t human. Chaos and Order and Nature and Life and Energy and all of the other intermingled forces are beyond human comprehension and Victor is an ant compared to the vastness of the multiverse. But Victor genuinely thought he was a god. Eventually, though, he found out his memory was taken except for this idea of the Antithesis. And that’s what he wants, so he can go against the gods. And he thinks Mars is the antithesis.

Mars and Luka end up escaping - picture dramatic action scene that I haven’t figured out yet - but in the struggle Luka falls into the space between universes and is lost.

(Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He ends up going on adventures with this kid named Cory who becomes relevant later in the story. Luka also has his own story with how he got involved with Victor, but that’s not important now.)

While on her own journey escaping, Mars comes to the realization that Victor is wrong and the multiverse isn’t a book or a flipbook. It’s a spectrum, and each universe’s differences are so small that they bleed into each other until they can’t really be seen. She feels quite small.

Eventually, she lands in this pocket universe and immediately it feels familiar. She realizes that the people inhabiting it have the same feel as the chaos spawn - however, instead of just one anomaly, there’s thousands of them.

Except one.

Sterling. She’s not a chaos spawn, but her whole being still radiates chaos, and that’s when Mars realizes she’s the Antithesis. So she has to find her and figure out what to do.

The society that Sterling grows up in is strange, and Sterling herself feels used to it, but she’s clearly suffering from trauma (as well as undiagnosed morality ocd but I’m not gonna talk about that now); however, Mars isn’t really thinking about that. She needs to make sure Sterling is kept away from Victor. Mars wants to run - she wants to teach Sterling how to cut between dimensions, which she does, and the two girls get out - and Sterling is inwardly relieved because she didn’t like that place. Mars starts teaching her and Sterling learns eagerly. This segment is quite lengthy because obviously the two girls need time to form a bond and Sterling eventually starts mastering her chaos skills.

They have another encounter with Victor and he tries to take Sterling, but she manages to get away. However, there Mars learns the truth about who she is - she’s Victor’s daughter. Who he killed. Victor Perez was a man who somehow received the attention of a piece of Chaos, which transformed itself into a female form and married him. They had a daughter, Martina, who became more and more like her mother growing up. Victor didn’t like this - he wanted her to be normal and orderly. He started having fights with his wife and one day he snapped and ended up causing the death of his daughter. Chaos didn’t know what to do - as it was a still a god but also quite human at that point. So it erased Victor’s memory, gave him the powers he wielded now, and resurrected Mars. But Chaos loved Victor, and therefore it created the Antithesis to help Victor in his vendetta against the gods. And this unnatural creation created fractures across the multiverse - fractures that became known as chaos spawn.

Mars wanted to kill Victor in that moment, and Sterling stops her from doing so. But she’s becomes distant and obsessive, wanting to destroy both of her parents for what they did. Sterling wants to learn more about the chaos spawn and if the multiverse is really as messed up as Mars thinks it is. Mars won’t have it.

Eventually, Mars confronts both of her parents and ends up destroying both of them - along with herself. It’s not framed as a good thing, mind you.

This isn’t the end of the story. Sterling takes the helm and we end up going through her own grief, trauma, mental health + the results of her codependent behavior with Mars, and all of her suppressed emotions from her old life. We also get to see more of the perspectives of the chaos spawn - through Bruma, Raykat, and Poisal - and we eventually meet up with Luka and Cory. And, of course, what I’ve laid out for you is a very point-by-point rough draft of what this story is. I can’t include all of Mars’s emotions and her relationship with Sterling - might make another post with that - but that’s what I’ve got so far. I hope you liked it!

#asked #my writing #my ocs #suicide mention

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handfulxfhearts · 1 year

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Verses

Verse list for muses. Some muses only have the one verse, and are therefore not mentioned here.

Please note, this is a non-exhaustive list of verses. If you have an idea for a thread with any of my muses but they are not mentioned here or the verses here don’t fit with it, let me know and we can plot :)

OCs:

Web, Shay and Melody are all present in a story I’ve been writing on and off for years; the verses for these three OCs are based off events in that story)

Web: Main verse - in the present day. Web is living in Brighton and traveling around to play music solo and as part of his band (with Shay). He lives in Brighton with Melody. He is usually portrayed as being single, though his relationship status tends to change depending on who I’m writing him with (he is currently in an established relationship with @shards-of-mortality‘s Kiki - this is exclusive to us and not exclusive to his main verse). In this verse he has already spent a time in rehab for alcoholism - this may be mentioned. If you are just meeting him for the first time in his main verse, he initially comes off as shy, and a bit standoffish/hostile. If you have known him a while in this verse, he may be more open to talking about personal issues. Either way, in this verse, Web is a person that cares very deeply about the people he is friends with, but still a very broken man, who does an excellent job at hiding it. In this verse, Web has many issues surrounding casual sex, alcohol and s*lf h*rm. Because of his inability to care about himself, he can often put himself in harm’s way, sometimes unknowingly. This is an extremely emotional verse. Maybe he just needs to find the right friend to help him see that he matters?

Rehab verse - Web is in rehab after an alcohol/pills induced su*cide attempt. Web’s therapist turns out not to be a nice guy, and will give Web alcohol in exchange for favours.

Post-Shay verse - after a horrible fight between Shay and Web, Web storms out of Shay’s apartment, causing Shay to panic and worry about him, and therefore go and find him. In an attempt to get home in a thunderstorm, Web takes a detour down an alley way and is as*aulted by three men (one of them being one of the boys that used to bully him at the group home). Shay finds Web and takes the three men on, fighting to protect Web, and gets seriously injured in the protest. An ambulance is called and Web stays with Shay the entire journey until Shay is rushed into surgery and Web isn’t allowed to go in. Shay ends up losing their life due to severe trauma and blood loss and Web witnesses it happen. In this verse, Web struggles to talk to anyone, he seems to live in a constant state of denial, he won’t allow himself to grieve Shay and therefore can’t move on. He is very angry in this verse and hard to reach, emotionally. Perhaps he needs someone to break down those walls?

Father verse - yes, you read that right. Nine years ago, Web, Melody and Shay met a girl called Anna, who happened to be at one of the band’s shows in Brighton. Anna quickly became obsessed with Web, and he revelled in it for a while, seeing it like having a groupie. There were a few one night stands, and she would come to every one of their gigs for a while. After a while, however, the trio noticed how obsessive and delusional she was. She managed to convince herself that she and Web were in a serious relationship, cutting his name into her arm, and constantly telling him she would die for him. It was Shay who told her to stay away from Web, and she did. Fast forward nine years later to the present day, and nine year old Ash appears on Web’s doorstep, with a letter from Anna and a wild story to tell. Anna had told Ash all about Web, and told him that they had been in a serious relationship, and would often talk about him after getting drunk or high. Ash tells Web he found his mum after she committed su*cide. After an initial meltdown, Web realises he’s got to help this kid, otherwise he’s going to end up in social care, and the idea of him going into a group home like he did terrifies him. Web and Shay get in touch with social services and a DNA test is completed, along with Web and Shay being involved in helping find a decent foster home for Ash, and going through all the legalities. Web doesn’t think he’ll be a decent dad, but he knows how hard it was growing up without his parents, and wants to help. Ash stays with him for a weekend each month and he has visitation during the week where he can pick Ash up from school and take him out for dinner, or have dinner at his foster parents’ home. Ash doesn’t call Web ‘dad’ most of the time, but occasionally he does. He ends up confiding in Web that Anna ab*sed him.

Childhood/teen verse - anywhere from age 7 to 18. This is a very trigger heavy verse. Nothing will be outright written, but there will be many references to what happened to Web at his time at the home. Read his bio to find out more. In this verse, Web is a terrified kid, scared of everything. He excels in school and keeps to himself. He is bullied a lot at home and at school. He has a few fleeting relationships in his later teen years, but nothing serious. This is a very s*lf h*rm and alcohol/drug abuse heavy verse.

Established musician verse - Web’s band have been signed and are going on tour with more and more well known bands. This is probably Web’s happiest verse, as he’s doing what he loves as a career.

Vampire verse - Web is a new vampire, trying to come to terms with his new lifestyle.

Shay: Main verse - Shay plays bass in Web’s band and is a full time record store manager. Shay is a very outspoken, blunt and sometimes mean person, but get to know them and they can be fiercely protective and caring. Shay will do anything for someone they care about, and will be brutally honest with you if they care enough.

Established musician verse - see Web’s established musician verse.

Childhood/teen verse - definitely Shay’s angriest verse. Shay grew up in the system, moving from group home to foster placements, never finding one that stuck, until they moved in with foster carer, Ruth. Though Shay was initially hostile, they grew very close with Ruth. Shay was permanently excluded from mainstream school due to their violent and aggressive outbursts. Shay’s on and off boyfriend, Eric, got Shay involved in dr*g ab*se, and used Shay’s dependence on it to s*xually ab*se them. Shay is an extremely angry and hurt person, and they got moved to a school for emotional and behavioural difficulties when they were 13. They were physically restrained a lot, and this used to trigger memories of Eric. Eventually, Shay found a member of staff they trusted enough to disclose things to, and the physical interventions became less and less. By the time Shay was ready to leave to go to mainstream college, they had not been physically restrained in over a year.

Melody: Main verse - Melody works at a strip club as a bar girl. She is highly empathetic and practises witchcraft. She lives with Web in their loft apartment in Brighton. Melody often struggles with people staring at her and being unkind to her because of her burn scars, but she is usually a compassionate and kind person in this verse.

Dancer verse - Melody gets to live her dream of being a professional dancer, eventually able to perform with groups such as Cirque du Soleil and other well established groups. Despite her burn scars, she thrives as a dancer.

Call girl verse - Melody’s main verse, except instead of working as a bar girl at a strip club, she is a dancer at the strip club and also works as an escort. She is very professional and has a professional website, business cards, and a Madame. She is very well off in this verse.

L, Mello, Light and Matt: Main verse - anywhere within the canon Death Note timeline.

Wammy’s verse - taking place during their time at Wammy’s; Light is not part of this verse.

Alternate timeline verse - Mello and Matt are older and help L with the Kira investigation.

L lives verse - L isn’t killed by Kira.

Kayako: Main verse - anywhere in the events of the original Ju-On & Ju-On 2 movies, and the 2003 remake, The Grudge.

Alive again verse - Kayako is given a second chance at life.

Living dead verse - similar to the above, only that she still looks half dead, her injuries are still painful (especially her broken bones) and it hurts for her to talk. In this verse, she uses her knew lease of ‘life’ to punish and kill men who do to women what her husband did to her.

#muse verses #verses #;; ooc

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sapphyreopal5 · 4 days

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Gen actually answered a question about her exploiting her kids on a podcast 4 years ago. Question was : “How do you create boundaries for your kids in the public eye?” Gen's answer was: “Great question. I don’t put them in things they’re uncomfortable with. This isn’t their job. I’m careful with making them the butt of the joke. When they look back, are they going to think I’m exploiting them? Tom hates it. I just want to represent my family well.”

This is also the only podcast & interview she mentions having a nanny for her kids. Besides that one time, she acts like she does it all herself. She constantly complains about never having "me time" or time away from the kids. She has had a nanny since Tom was days old & she was unemployed in 2012. Jared said at Pittsburgh Con 2017 main panel that they had multiple nannies & babysitters.

Jared at 7:58

youtube*com/watch?v=9bitftPqEhY

One of the nannies with Tom & Shep on May 28th 2017.

64*media*tumblr*com/fb7e151df8d4428aa3b06cd1db5334b0/tumblr_inline_p34zhmT4R91vx9qhi_640*png

Gen

“We have someone who helps us with our family and it would be a disservice to say I do it alone. My husband travels a lot for work so I am alone. I can 100% take care of my kids but I need help so I can do everything I want. I don’t know how we would get work done without help. I can’t imagine doing it alone. I don’t want to put that image out there that I can do it all without support. We take on different kids on different schedules.”

art19(.)com/shows/being-bumo/episodes/3e830086-f9f8-4de9-8172-dd485b4c9cc3

In this same interview, she says these things:

“My chore growing up was to ‘ride a horse’.”

“I don’t want to tell my husband something and set him off...”

“We had issues for a while. He’d be the fun dad on the weekend: load the kids up with sugar, let them stay up late, and let them watch movies I would never allow.”

“When he got home it was like having a sleepover with your friend. We have never really lived together. I was shocked, I shouldn’t say shocked, I was surprised that he picked up the slack.”

You should check out her other podcast interviews. She has said some really interesting, to say the least, things over the years.

Hello Anon, I am very grateful for this info. There are so many panels to keep track of it's very difficult to even recall what year, which panel, etc. something was said at unless there's a post of it somewhere or someone has a specific one saved for a particular reason. With this being said, I listened to this same panel a little bit ago but not this particular tidbit. It seems like it is in fact the same panel where Jensen made the joke of wanting just one more to make two kids but ended up getting two more, referencing his twins. For everyone's reference, I linked to that first video anon was kind enough to forward me the link to:

youtube

As for that first photo, that certainly can't be Gen! I'm going to listen to that Being Bumo podcast you sent me and will probably write another post about that one. I want to listen to the other podcasts that are out there but need to look into all of the ones she's done out there. Hopefully someone's got a consolidated list or something out there somewhere (or that she didn't do too many more that I need to find ha ha). I'll let you know my thoughts on it when I've listened to the whole thing.

“Great question. I don’t put them in things they’re uncomfortable with. This isn’t their job. I’m careful with making them the butt of the joke. When they look back, are they going to think I’m exploiting them? Tom hates it. I just want to represent my family well.”

Well well well, so Tom DOES hate being in the public eye as others have said. Thank you for providing a quote and the source from which people are deriving this conclusion. Representing your family well and treating your family well are two different things. I feel like she can be extremely tone deaf and it shows in statements like this.

“We had issues for a while. He’d be the fun dad on the weekend: load the kids up with sugar, let them stay up late, and let them watch movies I would never allow.” “When he got home it was like having a sleepover with your friend. We have never really lived together. I was shocked, I shouldn’t say shocked, I was surprised that he picked up the slack.”

Thus the highlighting the WANT tidbit. It seems Gen predictably so grew up with privilege and therefore wanted to maintain the status quo by marrying within her social class. Seems rather typical if you ask me. As for Jared "picking up the slack", well it certainly keeps the peace at home. Happy wife, happy life they say. I'm not sure why she was at all surprised, don't know your husband well enough to know he isn't useless unlike what he's said about himself before?

“I don’t want to tell my husband something and set him off...”

I'm not sure what in the hell she is saying with that but well, I will probably have to hear the whole podcast to get a better feel for the context. If it was an open ended statement like I'm halfway expecting it to be, I will say I can speculate on this being about another breakdown or whatever. Is she walking on eggshells with this emotional state? Sounds very much not a positive thing to say about him for sure. Again I need to listen to that entire podcast and I'm sure I'll piggy back off of this one when I have a chance.

#anti genevieve #anti jarevieve

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liz-ahiru-scribbles · 4 months

Text

i picked my poison (and its you)

“Shut up.” His glittering eyes, darker than usual, rapidly scanned her face.

The words came out before she could stop herself. “Make me.”

Liz meant it as a taunt, a test to what on earth was currently happening.

She did not expect for his lips to come crashing onto hers.

She was not currently kissing Kenji Yoon. And she certainly wasn’t enjoying it.

[hiding in a broom closet to hide from their best friends turns into the best kiss ever with the guy liz has come to realise she doesnt hate THAT much]

------keep reading below------

The sound of Ari and Toya’s conversation floated to their location, and Liz cursed under her breath. “They’re here.” She looked at him expectantly.

Kenji snorted. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“Just shut up,” she hissed, shoving him into a conveniently open broom closet and jumping in before quickly closing the door. She sighed with relief, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

“Well, darling, you want to kiss me that bad?” His irritating damned voice sang.

Liz’s eyes snapped open, and she then realised how damned close they stood.

Stupid Toyari. Stupid broom closet.

With his words, she became acutely aware of the lack of distance between them. There was hardly enough space for the two of them to stand, let alone to sit, and Kenji’s height forced him to lean his head down dangerously close to hers.

God, she could feel his breath on his. Was it so wrong if she wanted a taste?

NOPE, SHE DIDN’T MEAN THAT.

Her gaze travelled up from where she’d been avoiding his gaze, and it was as she met his eyes she realised he had her pinned against the wall, almost intentionally.

Damned Toyari.

“So,” he finally spoke, voice husky, hungry (maybe for KFC). “What now, princess?” His face flared an alarming shade of red, and before she could stop herself, her stupid hand reached forward and lightly touched his cheek. Kenji drew in a sharp breath.

She brought his face closer to hers. “Why are you so red?” she muttered, close enough to feel the shiver that ran down his spine.

“Shut up.” His glittering eyes, darker than usual, rapidly scanned her face.

The words came out before she could stop herself. “Make me.”

Liz meant it as a taunt, a test to what on earth was currently happening.

She did not expect for his lips to come crashing onto hers.

A startled sound left her throat as she closed her eyes. This isn’t happening.

She was not currently kissing Kenji Yoon. And she certainly wasn’t enjoying it.

It’s a part of your little dance, your dynamic. You constantly battle to see who will dominate.

So she leaned in and kissed back, the boy she despised oh so much, with a fiery passion that could only be from pure hatred. Totally.

`…why is he actually a good kisser?

Liz swung her arm around Kenji’s neck and pulled him closer, moving her hand from his cheek to rest on his chest, and feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat. He surrounded her in his warm arms, and she was a fool to admit that it actually felt nice. Her hand found its way to his hair she’d always imagined playing with, and was pleased to know it was as soft as she had expected (and hoped)

He pulled away slightly, heavy breaths still fanning over her face, and she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t whimper faintly (from the loss of warmth obviously)

He moved his face to her ear, his lips lightly brushing over her bare shoulder from the stupid dress that she was very grateful for now. She shuddered.

“They might open the closet,” he murmured. “This is so they don’t see who we are.”

“Oh.”

And yet, as he leaned in for a second time, she couldn’t do much to stop it.

Stupid Kenji. Stupid kiss.

She channelled all her anger and pent up emotions from the little game they’d been playing into the kiss. It was heated and aggressive, symbolic of their dynamic, a hatred long forgotten as she bit his lip slightly and grinned at the way he groaned and roughly began to explore her mouth with his tongue, frantic, a prudent reminder that once their bubble burst, they would have to return to normal, enemies.

But hating Kenji seemed impossible as he moved to press light kisses on her exposed neck, as she leaned her head on his, leaned into him. “I—get your mouth back up here—”

He grinned and moved so their noses touched, and lightly leaned forward in a taunt. “Did I mention how cute you look today?” he murmured against her lips.

She pulled away so fast that her head hit the wall with an audible thunk, and she met his smug expression with a flushing face and a roll of the eyes. “I’d say the same for you, but we both know I’d be lying.” Smooth, Liz. “Besides, you’re cuter with your glasses.”

This time it was her turn to grin at his surprised look, committing his beautiful face to memory, something she’d remember for eternity, the face she’d last imagine before succumbing to sleep and the first thing she’d think of in the morning, the guy who would visit her dreams every night, the person she’d last thing of with her dying breath.

Okay, so maybe she liked him a little bit.

“No need to blush so much, pretty boy,” she remarked slyly to distract herself from her thoughts. “Just kiss me.”

His eyes darkened. “Say no more, darling.”

So engrossed, the pair didn’t notice the door slowly creak open, until Toya’s voice clearly rang. “Uh, sorry for interrupting?”

His voice shook Liz out of her daze, and she nearly snapped her head around, but Kenji moved his hand to her face and brought her closer to him, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. Whether to keep their identities hidden or because he actually enjoyed this, she didn't know, but who was she to stop him?

The startled sound that Ari made and the slamming of the door confirmed her hopes. It’s working. They don’t know who we are. She could hear their panicked, flustered whispers outside the cupboard.

“...I’ll call Liz and ask her.”

Well frack.

Liz pulled back abruptly, panting slightly, scrambling through her pockets to find her phone, cursing that stupid kiss for her shaking hands.

His vulnerable, searching gaze on her, his swollen lips and dilated eyes and beautifully messy hair-

Get a grip. You need to turn your phone off-

A loud ringing interrupted her thoughts, and she cursed under her breath. As she decided she wanted to crawl into a hole and die, Kenji kicked the door open.

“Hello Toya and Ari,” he greeted the gaping pair as he climbed out, as if he totally hadn't been caught making out with Liz.

He held out a hand to her, and after a wobbly attempt to climb out, she gratefully accepted his assistance. Stupid. How could he be so nonchalant after that?

Liz turned slightly to assess the damage. Okay, so maybe his hair was extremely messed up and maybe his lips were swollen but that could happen for other reasons! It didn’t mean that they kissed!

Toya eyed where their hands remained clasped, as if glued together, and sighed as he handed some money over to Ari. A part of her wished they would hurry up and go away so they could continue. No what?!

She shook herself sane and attempted to clear her throat. “What do you need, Ari?” She definitely didn't notice his grasp on her hand tighten at the sound of her breathy voice.

“Uhm,” Ari said, unsure of what to say and wanting to leave instantly and preferably not watch them finish up. “It can wait.”

“Do you have my glasses, Toya?” Kenji cut to the chase and held out his other palm, and his friend rolled his eyes as he handed them over.

Liz hadn’t even noticed her eyes glued to him, until he put on his glasses with a wink in her direction, as if a switch to flood her entire body with a sense of warmth.

She could feel the smug message radiating from Ari. Bro’s really trying to turn you on.

“Thanks,” Kenji said. “Goodbye.”

The message was clear. Please leave. I’m a bit busy.

He nodded at an amused Toya and a snickering Ari, pulled Liz back into the cupboard and promptly shut the door.

The pair still breathed heavily, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, gaze fixed on their linked hands.

She could feel his watchful eyes on her. Noticing her discomfort, he released her hand, and a freaking whimper escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She clapped a hand to her mouth, all too late as he snorted.

God, he could even make a snort seem cute.

“Hey,” he said softly, hesitantly, gauging her reaction, bursting the bubble of silence that they had settled into. The adrenaline rush had slowed to an end, and reality slowly began to sink in, the reality that they made out in a cupboard-

Liz allowed herself to meet his eyes and smile slightly. “Hey yourself.”

Please don’t please don’t-

“We should probably talk about what just happened.”

Damnit. She could probably shut him off with a kiss, right?

The spell was broken, she had to stop herself at all costs, her sanity dangling from a single thread. She snorted, words tumbling out before she could stop themselves. “Don’t worry, I know it was for the cover, even if it didn’t work. It meant nothing. I hate you, you hate me, that’s never changed and it never will.” She shrugged, feigning nonchalance (betrayed by the slight waver in her voice)

A strange look crossed Kenji’s face, a huff escaping his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. She watched him carefully, watched as he ran a hand through his hair (damn, he never messed up his hair willingly), watched as he opened his eyes and his vulnerability evaporated, once again masked with his typical uninterested composure.

This was the Kenji she knew. (Not the one she wanted to see right now)

“Yeah, I hate you-” he said smoothly, as if stating a natural fact. Paused. Clenched his jaw. Voice strained, he continued. “-and you hate me.”

A pang in her heart. “Just as it’s always been.”

“And it always will be,” he agreed lowly. Taking a step closer, his eyes hungrily searched hers, as if desperate for some kind of a sign.

Her breath hitched. She shut her eyes, forced herself to concentrate on his words, her words, a constant stab to the chest, but anything other than his face inches from hers, his heavy breath intertwining with hers.

Liz took a deep breath. Summoned as much courage as she could. Opened her eyes. God, she didn't care about her sanity, he’d stolen it from the moment they met, she’d sacrifice it all to have his lips on hers, his arms around her, that crooked smile directed to her.

She was delirious in love.

She knew she’d regret this, but she wanted nothing more than to allow herself to want him. She'd picked her poison, but that poison was him, and she'd be damned if she brought that tainted chalice to her cherry lips for the chance to make brief contact with his once more.

“Kenji, I-”

But he had already slipped away.

cross posted on ao3

thanks for reading!! it means a lot :33

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #blorbos #original character #writing #ocs #academic rivals #rivals to lovers #kissing in a closet #mutual pining #miscommunication #enemies flirting #hate kiss #“shut up” “make me”#idk how to tag help #ao3 writer #ao3 link

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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Meeting the Family // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hello there, could I please request Anthony bridgerton and reader fic where hes introducing the reader to his family for the first time and shes really nervous but the family ends up loving her more than him? Thanks, I absolutely love your work!! Please dont overwork yourself darling❤ - @lespaceboi

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun with this request, I love it so so much. I only hope you do too! Lowkey posting this early bc I’m watching the euros final tonight and I won’t have time.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, light angst, some worries, lots of fluff, family fluff, Anthony being cute, dialogue heavy, declarations of love.

Word count: 3.6k

Her hands shake uncontrollably as the carriage clatters through London. Taking calming breaths, (Y/N) does her best to stop her shaking hands by gripping her shawl tightly. Her maid, Jayne, looks over at her in concern. “We can always turn back, my lady,” Jayne whispers, “I’m sure Viscount Bridgerton won’t mind postponing to another day.”

(Y/N) smiles warmly at her maid; grateful for the care in her voice. However, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer, Jayne. Anthony’s sister and her husband have travelled all the way from Scotland.”

Jayne sits back against the carriage bench, nodding her head understandingly. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” She offers in comfort.

“I can only hope,” (Y/N) whispers, casting her gaze out of window and into the London streets.

She had met Anthony Bridgerton when shopping for ribbons. An unusual time and place to meet anyone, but Anthony had strolled into the shop and asked to see the best ribbons in the place as nothing would be better than the absolute best for his nieces. (Y/N) had giggled at the tone of his voice; unused to seeing such a powerful figure in such intimate settings. Her laughter had drawn his attention to which a conversation began. By the end of the Viscount’s visit to the ribbon shop, he had asked to see her again.

The visits continued in secrecy, or in as much secrecy as one could afford when holding a peerage. The relationship blossomed; what was once considered a friendship was turning romantic, and (Y/N) could not help her feelings for the Viscount. He had captured her, body and soul. She counted every blessing that Anthony felt the same.

The first glimpse of Bridgerton House steals her breath away. The red brick stands out amongst the paler buildings; Anthony’s wealth already obvious but further personified by the sheer scale of his home. The sweet scent of the violet hyacinths perfume (Y/N)’s carriage; their aroma bringing a small smile to her face as she remembers a masquerade party in Chiswick, a balcony and Anthony’s hands on her waist.

Her carriage rolls to a natural stop; (Y/N)’s heart in her throat as she tears her inquiring gaze from Bridgerton House to Jayne. Jayne smiles and squeezes her lady’s hand, a silent offer of support for the afternoon.

“They’re going to love you,” Jayne whispers, bolstering (Y/N) as best she could as the door to the carriage is opened by (Y/N)’s footman.

Now closer, Bridgerton House is much grander. The deep green iron gates pronounce the family’s wealth further. (Y/N) gulps as she takes step after step down the path to already open front door. Her steps falter slightly as she catches sight of Anthony waiting in the entrance; his hair the usual untameable mess that endears her so.

“You came,” Anthony breathes in greeting; his eyes wide with barely concealed surprise as he takes in the sight of her on his doorstep.

“I came,” (Y/N) answers just as breathlessly. Even the sight of him was enough to leave her gasping for breath; there were moments in their prolonged courtship that she couldn’t quite believe he had chosen her, that he wanted her. As Anthony stands there, his white shirt unbuttoned from the collar with his waistcoat undone, she realises that this is the most casual she had ever seen him. His outfit wasn’t proper, but she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to see him from every angle; she wants to know every Anthony there is. So far, she had found herself besotted with each and every one.

Both remain silent as Anthony offers his arm to her. (Y/N) uses the silence to quash the nerves rioting in her gut; she had never been this nervous, not when she was presented in front of the monarch for her season, and not when she danced with the Prince of Wales at his birthday celebrations two years ago. Now, however, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.

Anthony pauses their journey. “Are you okay?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) confesses bashfully, “What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me so much that you end things? I’m having so much fun with you, Anthony. I don’t want this to end.”

“Hey,” Anthony whispers, taking her face in his hands, urging her to look at him, “You’re going to be fine. They’re going to love you, I know it. I’ve spoken about you so much they feel they already know you.”

“You talk about me?” (Y/N) asks, her voice small.

Anthony presses a kiss to her forehead. “Constantly. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out with how much I talk about you.”

“You’re really very sweet.”

“Only because of you,” He flirts, pushing his luck by kissing her quickly.

(Y/N) laughs softly against his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

Anthony laughs gently, pulling away from her lips but keeping hold of her hands. “I’m as nervous as you,” He confesses, “But I have you by my side to help me get through just as you have me through this too. Any time you want to go, let me know and I’ll call your carriage back round.”

“Thank you,” She whispers before Anthony continues on down the hall, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Anthony asks, double checking, voice wavering as they stand outside the door to the drawing room. “My family can be a bit much to meet all at once.”

“We’re nothing of the sort!” A masculine voice shouts from behind the door.

A surprised laugh leaves (Y/N) lips. She covers her mouth to bring back the mask of perfect decorum, not wanting to insult a member of Anthony’s family. “I’m ready when you are,” She whispers, smiling at the eldest Bridgerton.

“Sooner rather than later,” Anthony whispers before opening the door, giving her the first glimpse at his family.

The Bridgerton brood sit around the large drawing room. Sisters and brothers, husbands and wives – they all mix together as they wait for Anthony and his new beau. Each all fall silent as Anthony and (Y/N) enters the room; their first glimpse of her, their first conversation with her. Anthony had spoken about her constantly but refused to let any family meet her until they were both ready.

Now that moment had arrived.

“Mother,” Anthony introduces to the silent room, “This is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) exclaims, smiling at the Bridgerton matriarch. “I’ve heard so much about you all,” She continues, casting her gaze around the room.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, dear (Y/N),” Violet announces, “Anthony has been nothing but a ball of nerves since he announced you would be joining us.”

(Y/N) nods at the matriarch, feeling herself become speechless as she takes in the sheer size of Anthony’s family. It isn’t hard to tell who the Bridgertons are among the group are; they each have the same eyes and smile. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” (Y/N) announces, repeating her earlier words, unable to keep the nerves from entering her voice this time.

“I’m Benedict,” The second eldest introduces, jumping up from his seat on the couch, holding his hand out for her to take.

“The artist!” (Y/N) gasps, “I’ve seen some of your work. You’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict blushes, excusing himself with a pat to Anthony’s shoulder, a silent sign that Benedict already approves.

“Help yourself to some tea,” A younger woman exclaims in the brief silence between conversations, “I’d get up to greet you, but it would take twice as long as the conversation itself.”

“Please don’t strain yourself,” (Y/N) offers graciously, “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m Daphne, and this is my husband, Simon.” Daphne introduces, her hand landing on the thigh of a handsome man.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) greets, making her way to an empty seat at a nearby table. There she pours two cups of tea, one for her and one for Anthony, knowing he would be dropping by in a minute or two. The tea steeps as (Y/N) helps herself to one of the many biscuits, taking a small bite of the buttery concoction before reaching for the milk and sugar. This is a routine she has practiced many times before, knowing exactly how long to stir her tea so it wouldn’t burn the tip of her tongue with every sip.

It’s takes less than two minutes for someone to join her at the table. (Y/N) offers the young woman a polite smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Eloise Bridgerton,” introduces the young woman.

“A pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) repeats, feeling herself already grow tired of the words.

“Are you educated, (Y/N)?” Eloise enquires; her keen blue gaze dancing over the young woman.

(Y/N) finishes her sip of tea before nodding at Anthony’s younger sister. “I am,” She answers, “I studied under a very thorough governess, and I am fluent in French and Latin, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to sit in on some lectures at Oxford and Edinburgh.”

“How?” Eloise all but demands, ignoring the stern stare of her mother as she leans forward, elbows on the table. “You must teach me your ways.”

(Y/N) represses an amused smile at Eloise’s antics. “My favourite cousin, Sylvester, was a student at both. I often annoyed him into letting me attend in secret whenever I visited.”

“Did you attend any interesting lectures?”

(Y/N) nods, happy to further indulge the brunette. “Sylvester was a student of medicine, beginning his education at Oxford before continuing on to Edinburgh where he lives now. I’ve attended a few medical lectures, but I pressured him into letting me attend a philosophical debate surrounding Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.” (Y/N) shakes her head, amused at the memory, “Sylvester didn’t find that one nearly as thrilling as his medical lectures.”

“Anthony!” Eloise calls, gathering the attention of all her brothers, “I’m keeping (Y/N) for myself. You’re going to have to find a new beau, I’m afraid.”

Anthony chuckles, leaving his brothers to their own conversation. “Pray,” He begins, “Just what are the two of you talking about.”

“(Y/N)’s education. Did you know she’s sat in lectures at both Oxford and Edinburgh? I daresay I might attend a few myself.”

Anthony’s hand lands on your shoulder; a warm squeeze has you turning to meet his stare. His smile is fond; his eyes are bright with happiness. “Are you inciting further rebellion in my little sister?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) playfully scoffs, “Just letting her know that should she want to attend any lectures, I have a connection for her.”

A laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he catches sight of Eloise’s excited wiggle in her chair. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” He murmurs to (Y/N) quietly, dropping an unexpected kiss to her hair before entering a debate with Eloise, explaining why she cannot go about interrupting lectures at prestigious universities.

Leaving the siblings to their bickering, (Y/N) stands from table, wanting to stretch her legs and discover more to the drawing room. By this point in the afternoon, the appeal of company has worn off. The large family now broken off into their own conversations; Francesca and Michael remain sat close together on the couch under the window, Lady Violet remains sat by her eldest daughter – the matriarch keeping a weather eye on her pregnant daughter.

(Y/N) smiles fondly at the scene before turning to one of the many fixed bookshelves in the room; leather bound volumes line the shelves. There wasn’t much for light reading, she thinks to herself as she reads the spines. Much about the War of the Roses and the subsequent Tudor reign, not much in the way of Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron.

“You’re very pretty,” A young girl announces from behind (Y/N). She turns to find two girls, both no older than four or five, their hair matching pigtails, curled into ringlets.

(Y/N) kneels to their height, ignoring the pinching of her corset as she smiles at the young children. “Why thank you,” She states gratefully, “But you know what I would really like?”

“What?” The eldest of the two asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Gorgeous pigtails like yours,” (Y/N) smiles, gesturing to their hair.

Both girls break into wide smiles, already won over. “What are your names?” (Y/N) asks.

“I’m Amelia,” The eldest states proudly, “I’m five and a half.”

“I’m Belinda,” The second girl introduces, “I’m four.”

“Well it is lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) compliments, “My name is (Y/N).”

“We know,” Belinda chimes. “Uncle Tony talks about you all the time.”

“He does, does he?” She murmurs amused; catching sight of the brunette doing his best not to intervene on the conversation taking place with his nieces.

Amelia nods. “All the time!” She cries happily. “He talks about your hair, your eyes, your smile.” She breaks off, leaning towards (Y/N) to whisper in her ear. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“Do you think?” (Y/N) questions, unable to keep the eager hope from her voice.

“I know,” Amelia nods sagely, “I heard Uncle Tony tell Mama and Papa.”

(Y/N) presses her lips together to keep the wide smile from growing across her face. She had known that Anthony felt very deeply for her though he had never uttered a word. With a quick glance in Anthony’s direction, she gestures for the two girls to come closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amelia and Belinda nod silently; too excited to hear what (Y/N) has to say. “It just so happens,” (Y/N) whispers to the two girls, “That I also love your Uncle Tony.”

“You do?” Belinda squeaks.

“I do,” (Y/N) nods seriously, “I love him very much.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Amelia asks; her blue eyes wide with burning curiosity.

“I think on some level he already knows, but I plan on telling him very soon.”

Both girls squeal in happiness, leaving (Y/N) behind as they run towards their parents. Daphne and Simon greet their children with open arms, wide eyed at their level of noise as they demand their voices to be heard over the hubbub of the rest of the family.

“I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me to this particular conversation,” A warm voice sounds from behind her. The way his arm slips around her waist, as if it were his home, tells (Y/N) that Anthony has found her once more.

“A secret for another day,” (Y/N) teases, turning to face the man that had captured her heart so wholly.

“Will you tell me later?” He asks, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout that has her giggling.

“Perhaps,” She whispers, leaning ever closer to the Bridgerton. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” He whispers seriously, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“I know you would,” She murmurs, “But all I’m asking for is for you to not pester your nieces over what I told them.”

“How did you know?” Anthony asks, voice glum.

(Y/N) brings a gloved hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Because I know you, my dear.”

Anthony leans into the touch, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to her wrist. “I like being your dear.”

“I like being yours too,” She replies earnestly. “Now, I’ve spoken to most of your siblings. Do me the honour of introducing me to Francesca, she came all the way from Scotland, it’s rude that I’ve neglected her.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony responds, taking her hand and leading her to the couch where Francesca sits with her husband, Michael.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Bridgerton House had never been quiet when the whole family was in attendance; raucous laughter and loving bickering filled its many corners with noise. The life and laughter of the family bringing the house to life.

As the grandfather clock ticks closer and closer to the evening, (Y/N) finds herself lamenting the fact that she must leave the Bridgerton family so soon.

“I must take my leave,” She announces to sad cries to Amelia and Belinda, already so attached.

“So soon?” Benedict asks, frowning as he wonders when he’ll get to continues his conversation with her. So few wanted to talk about art nowadays.

(Y/N) meets Anthony’s gaze, hating how sad he looks. “I’m having dinner with my parents and their friends. An occasion I simply cannot miss, I’m afraid.”

“Do we know them?” Violet asks in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She had grown fond of the young woman over the course of the afternoon, seeing how perfectly she fit amongst her family, how she brought out the best in her eldest son.

“The St. Clair’s?” (Y/N) enquires, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. “My father has worked with Lady Danbury’s family for a long time. Gareth and I are old friends.”

“Have a wonderful time,” Violet announces, “But please visit us soon.”

“I would love to,” (Y/N) smiles, crossing the room to be by Anthony’s side.

Offering her goodbyes to the large family, (Y/N) takes Anthony’s offered arm, hooking hers through his as they descend the grand marble staircase to the foyer. “Your family are lovely,” (Y/N) compliments as she takes care not to trip over her skirts on the stairs. “You all care for each so much, it’s clear the moment you enter the room.”

“My mother and siblings are the best people I know,” Anthony murmurs, walking beside (Y/N) at a steady pace in order to delay her departure by a minute.

“I can only hope they liked me,” She worries, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that has Anthony restraining himself by gripping her arm tighter.

“You were wonderful,” Anthony murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheekbone before helping her into her carriage.

“Thank you for today,” (Y/N) calls, sticking her hand from the window to prolong the contact between Anthony and herself. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye; wasn’t quite ready to leave him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anthony answers, kissing her hand before tucking it back through the window of her carriage. If they didn’t say goodbye now, they wouldn’t say goodbye at all. If she didn’t leave, he would most likely offer marriage on the pavement than somewhere proper.

Nodding to her footman, Anthony watches her carriage leave. He stands on the doorstep to Bridgerton House until her carriage is no longer in sight. Only then does he let himself release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Weariness washes over him as he turns to face his childhood home. Inside, in his mother’s drawing room, await his family. Each one ready to give their verdict on the woman he has had the good fortune to fall in love with.

Sighing, he kicks at the ground, knowing he cannot delay this any longer.

His mother and siblings are where he left them; his mother’s drawing room. They fall silent at the sight of him; each clearly unwilling to make the leap and be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

“What do you think of (Y/N)?” Anthony asks; voice loud in the ever so silent room. He meets the eyes of each of his siblings, not missing the way Daphne leans into Simon or the way Michael reaches for Francesca’s hand. They’ve all found their love matches; it was now Anthony’s turn.

Colin takes the fall for his family, standing to face his eldest brother and titled peer. He clears his throat, fidgeting on the spot before he eventually pauses all movement, breaking into a smile to declare, “We all loved her!”

“You do?” Anthony asks, falling onto a nearby couch in shock.

Violet smiles at her eldest son. “We do. (Y/N) is a sweetheart and looks to be just as taken with you as you are with her.”

Blush begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. “I can only hope, dear mother.”

“It’s true,” Amelia chimes, her young face bright with joy. “She told Belinda and I.”

“You have found your love match, my darling boy,” Violet states warmly.

“It does help that (Y/N) is a trifle more tolerable than you, dear brother,” Benedict teases, laughter bright in his Bridgerton blue eyes.

“And so educated!” Eloise gasps, “We had an enlightening conversation about Wollstonecraft’s Vindication on the Rights of Women.”

“She was wonderful with Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne murmurs, her hand falling protectively over her pregnant stomach.

“Why do I get the feeling that you prefer (Y/N) to me?” Anthony murmurs, mischief bright in his eyes and evident in his voice.

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Gregory points out, “I only hope (Y/N) can keep up with your obsession with Pall Mall.”

“A worthy obsession,” Anthony argues, mind wandering to the games he could play with (Y/N).

“She’s wonderful,” Violet interrupts, a large smile on her face as she takes the final say.

Anthony smiles widely at his mother; constantly grateful for her love and care throughout his life. She had been lost after the death of his father, as had Anthony, but Anthony had never truly understood what it would feel like to lose someone you love as wholeheartedly as his mother loved his father.

Until now, that is. The mere thought of losing her sends a lance of pain through his chest, cutting short his breath and increasing his panic. Anthony shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and feelings.

Calm enough, he faces his family once more. “I plan on proposing to (Y/N),” He announces, showing his family the ring box that has been sitting heavily in his trouser pocket all day.

“Thank goodness,” Francesca murmurs, smiling indulgently at her big brother. “I cannot wait to call her sister.”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmurs, a loving smile on his face, “I cannot wait to call her my wife.”

******

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fanficimagery · 3 years

Text

Talking to the Dead

Imagine your sister calling in a favor, only to find out said favor is for the vampire sheriff of Louisiana.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: I am not Bill's biggest fan, nor am I Eric/Sookie's biggest fan either. That said, this takes place AFTER all damn drama with King Bill. Eric still runs Fangtasia alongside Pam and Sookie still works under Sam at Merlotte's. They're friends. That's it.

Eric sits behind his desk, the bottom half of his face covered in blood as Pam files her nails. She had been going through Fangtasia's books when she realized the money wasn't adding up and that some of their product was missing. So when Tara brought forward those responsible in making sure Fangtasia was up to date with their taxes and everything, Eric called in a favor from Sookie to get a read on them. Only Eric lost his temper and killed the two men, leaving thousands of his money stashed somewhere only the dead knew of now.

The office door opens and Sookie stumbles inside, still in her Merlotte's uniform. She takes one look at Eric and sighs. "Did you have to kill them? I just wasted a trip out here, Eric Northman."

"How tragic," he deadpans. "You wasted about five dollars in gas, meanwhile I'm still out of thousands, Miss Stackhouse."

"Don't you take that tone with me, Mister!"

Pam snorts. "Shame your little fae powers don't allow you to speak to the dead," she drawls. "That would really come in handy right about now." Sookie opens her mouth to defend her still untrained powers, only to pause and snap her mouth shut. Immediately that catches both vampires' attention and Pam leans forward, interest piqued. "Have you been holding out on us, Tinkerbell?"

"No." Sookie scoffs, suddenly overcome with wariness. "But I, uh, I might know someone who-"

"No." Eric cuts her off. "No witches."

"She's not a witch," Sookie says. "Y/N is, um, she's my sister."

Eric freezes before he leans forward in his chair. "There's a third Stackhouse? How come we never learned of this?"

Sookie sighs and drops onto the couch. She shrugs. "Y/N's powers manifested a lot earlier than mine did and they.. well it drove her crazy. She was in and out of the hospital, and the death of our parents didn't do her any favors. She started rebelling at seventeen and drank herself into oblivion. Constantly."

Pam hums. "Sounds like my kind of girl."

Sookie frowns at her before looking back at Eric. "She's actually due for a visit tomorrow. I'll bring her by."

"How are you so sure she'll do this for us? If I recall correctly, you did not come peacefully," Eric muses.

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Y/N is a free spirit. If I hadn't told you she was my sister, you wouldn't have known we were twins."

"Twins?" Eric seems to perk up, eyes lighting up, and this time it's Pam's turn to roll her eyes.

Sookie scoffs. "Don't be gross. We'll be by after my shift tomorrow."

Finding an Uber into Bon Temps after the sun had set was almost impossible, but fortunately you found someone who was willing to make the trip. You knew Louisiana had become a vampire hotspot, but you didn't know people had found traveling in the state quite so fearsome.

You don't have much on you, with the exception of a small suitcase holding a few change of clothes, so you opt to be dropped off at Merlotte's rather than your childhood home. And upon exiting the car after making sure your payment went through, you grab your suitcase by the handle and walk towards the entrance. A few whispers attempt to reach out to you, but you shake off the echoes of death and march on.

There's only a handful of locals inside Merlotte's, but the no-good nosy folk still all stop to see who's entering their local establishment. Inside, the whispers get louder, but you reign in your control and shake your head clear. What the hell happened here that there are so many echoes?

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that my favorite Stackhouse?"

You're already grinning as you find the source of the comment, grin widening as Sam's familiar handsome self makes his way towards you. "Come on, Sam. We all know who your favorite Stackhouse really is?"

He laughs as he opens his arms for a hug and you drop your suitcase to step into his embrace. "Jason's bragging again, isn't he?"

You huff a laugh and pinch his side, the two of you not speaking of all the years he spent pining after your sister. "So where is my twin?" You ask as you pull back and roll your eyes when Sam readily picks up your suitcase.

You follow him to the bar as he says, "She's taking a call in the back. Want me to let her know you're here?"

"Nah, but can you put in an order for me? I miss Lafayette's burgers."

"Sure thing, chère. What do you want?"

"Cheeseburger with everything, cut the onions. Extra ketchup. Fries. And whatever beer you have on tap."

Sam chuckles as he's already pouring your beer. "So the usual." You grin as he slides your glass across the bar. "I'll be back."

Taking a seat on the stool there at the bar, you grab your glass and sip at the ice cold beer. It feels so good sliding down your throat that the sip turns into a gulp, and before you know it half the glass is gone. Needing a breath, you set the glass down and inhale deeply. As you exhale, you burp, and then take a moment to stretch in your seat while glancing around. A few people are still staring and murmuring far too low to their companions for you to hear, so instead you raise an eyebrow at them- challenging them to say their opinion out loud. None of them do and you scoff an amused laugh before drinking the rest of your beer.

Sam reappears. "Long flight?" He takes your glass and refills it.

"Flight was fine. It's the people of Bon Temps who annoy the shit out of me." Sam frowns, but you shrug off his concern as he quickly glances around at those in his establishment. You're well aware of what everyone thinks of you and Sookie thanks to Sookie's abilities, and you're grateful you didn't quite get the same ability as her. If you had to hear every living being's thoughts on top of the dead's, you'd have permanently committed yourself long ago.

"Well I talked to your sister in the back. She said she'll be right out."

"That's fine." Accepting your second glass of beer, you smile gratefully at Sam before taking another drink.

"Girl, I knows you ain't tryin' to eat my food without saying hello."

You turn on your stool, one knee crossed over the other as you beam at the cook. "Lafayette!" He approaches with your plated cheeseburger and a basket of fries, setting them in front of you before pulling you into a hug. "I wouldn't have left without saying hello. I just wanted my food first."

"'Course you did," he muses. "How long you here for, little Stackhouse?"

"Um, I'm kind of between jobs at the moment," you sheepishly admit. You quickly grab a fry and pop it into your mouth. "I'll probably stick around until I can find something or Sookie kicks me out."

Lafayette swats you with his dish towel. "You know damn well Sook won't kick you out. That sister of yours misses you lots. She's been talkin' nonstop about your visit."

"If you need a job, chère, I'll be happy to give you one."

You pop another fry into your mouth, grinning over at Sam. "Lord knows you can barely handle one Stackhouse, Sam. No way in hell you can two- three if Jason is around as much as I'm assuming." Sam opens his mouth to retort, but a shriek cuts him off. It's Sookie and she barrels right into your side. "Jesus Sook," you laugh. "Warn a girl."

As you and Sookie quickly catch up (she's all for you staying as long as you need), more patrons enter Merlotte's and Lafayette's forced back into the kitchen. Jason and his best friend Hoyt walk in, so you walk over to join them as Sookie gets back to work also.

Jason is glad Sookie won't be in the house all on her own since he has his own place and Hoyt is just glad to see all the Stackhouses together once again. You finish your cheeseburger and fries there at the table with them, along with three glasses of beer and two shots courtesy of your brother who wanted to properly celebrate your homecoming.

Jason and Hoyt leave, you waving them off when they asked if you wanted a ride home. Sookie's shift is just about over and you remember her asking if you could wait for her because she wanted to take you someplace. So when Sookie comes out from the back to collect you from the bar, you're slightly swaying on your stool as you grin at her.

"Are you drunk?" She incredulously asks. "Y/N, I need you level headed."

"Ooohhh," you coo and reach out to bop her on the nose. "And just what do I need to be level headed for, sis?"

"Can you walk?" She asks instead. You laugh and nod, hopping off the stool and giving yourself a moment to make sure the room isn't tilting. She sighs. "That's good enough for me. Come on. A friend of mine needs a favor." She walks behind the bar to collect your suitcase and a bottle of water from the small refrigerator under the bar. "Bye, Sam! See you later!" She then calls out as she leads you down a hall. You hear Sam's muffled reply from one door in particular and then Sookie's leading you out the back exit and towards her car.

Outside she opens the passenger door to her small yellow Honda Civic that looks newer than the last time you saw it, and tosses your suitcase in the backseat. She pushes you down onto the passenger seat and holds the water bottle out to you. "Drink."

You take the bottle without a word, twist off the cap, and start to guzzle the water as she shuts the door and walks around the car to the driver's side door. You only get half of it down before needing to breathe. "What.. am I.. guzzling water for?" You ask in between breaths.

As Sookie starts up her car, she casts a wary glance your way before looking back to where she's driving. "Shreveport. We're going to Fangtasia. The owner of the bar needs you to listen to some echoes."

"Fangstasia?" Your brow furrows as you try to wrack your brain about why that sounds so familiar. A moment later, however, the answer comes to you and you groan. "First off, I can overlook the vampire bar. What I can't overlook is that of all people to tell our secret to, you chose vampires. Vampires! Do you know we're like crack to them?"

"I'm sorry, okay! I got involved with them a while back, which is a mistake that I can admit now, but Eric actually tried helping me in his own way. Somewhat. We've become friends."

"Sookie." You groan again. Your sister pouts and you decide to keep quiet, sipping on your water and wishing it were something stronger. "So what does this Eric know about me listening to echoes?"

"Nothing really," she says. "I know how you like your privacy, so last night was the first time I mentioned that I even had a sister." You grin, not hurt at all by her not mentioning you to others. "I just said that you could listen in on the dead. They don't know about anything else."

"Good. I like to keep 'em on their toes." Sookie snorts at your all too amused expression. "And besides, I learned a new trick! I can't wait to test it out."

Your sister glances between you and the road, her smile faltering. "Are you- are you sure you're okay to do this? I know how it can get when you're not truly focused."

"We're on the road." You giggle. "No turning around now."

This time it's Sookie's turn to groan. "I knew I should have asked beforehand. Now the night's gonna end with one of us pinned to a wall."

"Oooh. Kinky."

The rest of the drive is painfully quiet, with the exception of some gospel music station Sookie has playing on low. You're humming a completely different song under your breath, right arm hanging out the window and letting the humid air rush over the skin of your arm. Thankfully the drive isn't too long and Sookie is soon pulling into the parking lot with a building partially decorated with neon red lights. The outside of Fangtasia is not what you expected, but seeing the line of both human and vampires in their scantily clad outfits makes you excited to see what's going on inside.

You're practically bouncing in your seat as Sookie parks and she can't help but grin at your apparent excitement. "Get it all out now," she says. "You won't be smilin' the closer you get to the buildin'. Not while you're half drunk."

"Shut up and let's go!"

Sookie fondly rolls her eyes and the two of you simultaneously pull down the sun visors to check yourselves in the small mirrors provided. Happy with your reflections, the two of you climb out of the vehicle. As your sister comes around to your side, you hook your arm through hers and the two of you head for the building.

Instead of heading straight to the back of line, Sookie leads you directly to Fangtasia's bouncer and ignores the grumbled displeasures of those waiting in line to get in. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the dark skinned female checking ID's, but when she turns to greet Sookie and her eyes widen upon seeing you, you grin. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

"Oh Lord," Tara muses. "Eric's gonna murder the both of y'all."

Sookie huffs and she holds you back as you attempt to poke at Tara's abdomen. "Who put him in a bad mood now?"

Tara shrugs as she swats your hand away. "It's Eric. He's always in a bad mood unless he's balls deep in some fang-banger."

Your sister ew's and you grin, clearly impressed, until Sookie elbows you. Tara just chuckles and gestures inside. "Go on in. You know where to find him. See you later, Y/N."

"Lookin' forward to it." Sookie drags you inside and the second you step foot in the darkened hallway, you sway on your feet as pressure builds up in your head. "Wait, wait, wait." You step aside to lean against the wall, shaking your head clear and trying to build up mental walls. When you catch a glimpse of your sister, you see her smiling sadly at you and are grateful she doesn't gloat about being right. "This is why I don't hang around vampires much," you murmur. "So much death."

"Sorry. I know I should have asked beforehand, but I didn't want to give you a chance to say no. Eric's annoying when he doesn't get what he wants."

"Yeah, yeah." You wave her off, close your eyes, and take a few deep breaths. Once you feel a bite more settled, you push off the wall and meet your sister's gaze. "Okay. I'm ready."

Entering the main part of the club you can't help but look around in wide-eyed wonder. While most would think you were awe, you actually weren't and instead bit back the comment about how ridiculously cliché the establishment is. Everything is in blacks and reds, vampires in leather or electrical tape are dancing on poles, and the humans reek of desperation.

"Huh. No one's on the throne," Sookie muses.

You glance towards a raised platform, eyes lighting up at the sight of two actual thrones. Sookie's grip on your arm, however, stops you from attempting to go up there. "At least buy me a drink before we meet Mr. Scary Vampire." You pout.

"Nope." She starts marching away from the bar and towards a back hallway. "You're drunk enough already. You can have one at home when we're done here."

"Boo. You're no fun."

Sookie stops right outside a black door and impatiently knocks. You grin at her already huffy attitude and then walk in behind her as soon as someone permits entrance. The office is very plain, with the exception of a blood red couch off to the side and the two vampires behind the desk, and you frown as Sookie guides you towards a black leather chair and pushes you down into it.

"So this is the mysterious Stackhouse." The blonde male drawls.

You drag your gaze from your sister to the vampire in question and sit a little straighter in your seat as a lazy smile stretches across your lips. "And you're the mysterious vampire I've only heard about an hour ago." You then look at your sister. "Please tell me you banged this one."

There are simultaneous snorts from behind the desk and Sookie exhales roughly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Eric. Pam, this is my sister Y/N. She might be a little drunk."

"Just a little," you muse, giggling.

"Well at least we know who the fun Stackhouse is."

You perk up again, putting one finger on the tip of your nose and pointing at Pam who's smirking at you with the other hand. "And don't you forget it."

"As amusing as this is," Eric drawls again, "I need a favor. Are you capable of doing what your sister claims you can do?"

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't." You smirk. The smirk falters however as you feel a chill slide across the back of your neck. You still and slowly glance over your shoulder, whispers you hadn't been listening to earlier getting louder. You wince and turn back around, strengthening your shields. A moment passes before you clear your throat and say, "But I have two conditions before I start."

Eric and Pam had been watching you closely, intrigued the second Sookie held up her hand to stall their questions when they noticed you zone out and stare at the corner of the room. "Money is no issue," Eric then says.

"Pft. I don't want money."

"Y/N!" Sookie reprimands. "You're in between jobs. Take the money."

Without looking at your sister, you wave your hand at your sister to get her to shut up. You know you've done your job when she swats your hand so you continue speaking to Eric. "First condition, no biting! I don't care how delicious I smell. No gnawing on the tiny little gremlin."

Pam's lips stretch into a wide smile whereas Eric's lips faintly twitch. "And the second?"

"I get free drinks from the bar whenever I'm here."

"Deal."

"Yes!"

"You're such an idiot," Sookie mutters.

You look to your sister, bouncing in your seat in excitement. "Joke's on Dracula. I'm gonna be in Bon Temps for the foreseeable future. That's a lot of free drinks for me. Suck it, Pixie."

"Oohh. I like this mouth breather. Can we please keep her?"

You meet Pam's gaze and wink. "As beautiful as you are, sweet stuff, you are so not my type."

Her left eyebrow raises as she's still clearly amused. "Because I'm a vampire?"

"Nah. Because you're female," you say. "I can appreciate a hot as fuck lady when I see one, but I still prefer cock."

"Okay!" Sookie nearly shouts as she stands up. Eric beams at your drunken blunt attitude. "We're here so Y/N can find out where your money is and we're way off topic. Can we please get on with it so I can get her home?"

You snort. "Prude." Sookie slaps the back of your arm and you squeal, slapping her arm back. You glare at her until her lips twitch and then you're back to giggling, looking back toward the vampires. "So let's do it. Do you have anything of the dead guy I'm supposed to be listening for? It'll make it easier to listen in on him."

Pam shrugs. "His blood is still in the dungeon. Will that work?"

"Gross, but yeah. Lead the way."

As soon as you stand, the voices amp up and you sway at the sudden onslaught of voices. You grit your teeth and tune them out, nodding at Eric who had stilled to keep an eye on you. He gestures to follow after Pam and you do, Sookie and Eric following behind you. Pam makes a beeline for the stage of thrones, but before you can follow there's a hand gripping your wrist and leading you towards a door behind the bar.

You're led down into a dimly lit dungeon behind Eric and you can't help the next words that leave your mouth. "It's always such a let down when the dungeon is actually a dungeon and not a sex dungeon."

Eric turns around to stare at you with a leering gaze and Sookie groans. "Been in a lot of dungeons?"

"Not really." You shrug and walk towards the back of the room where there are metal poles sticking up from the concrete floor. Chains hang from each of them and you shiver as your fingers run over them, the metallic rattling immediately tuning you in to the whispers. Subtly shaking your head, you look towards Sookie. "You know the drill."

She nods, pulling small orange styrofoam plugs from her pocket. "If it looks like you're struggling, plug my ears. Or get out."

"Bingo." You grin at your sister before looking at Eric. "If it gets bad, I expect you to vamp speed her little butt outta here."

"And how would I know what bad looks like?"

"Oh you'll know," Sookie mutters.

Grinning one last time at Sookie and Eric, you turn back towards where Eric obviously chains up those who end up on his bad side. So touching the chains again, you let the rattling and whispers overcome your senses.

"..dangerous. Need to leave."

"..bad place. I just want to go home."

"Stupid fuckin' vampers."

The room turns hazy and silhouettes walk to and from around the basement. You stare at them, letting the voices come and go until you find the one you're looking for.

"..so screwed. Never should have done it." Your gaze zeroes in on the silhouette, watching it pace back and forth. "It was just a little money. Pocket change."

"Never gonna find it. Calm down. We're already dead."

You listen a bit more to their whining, hoping for anything useful when a loud dry sob pierces the air. You wince and whirl around to spot the source of noise.

"Did she- can she hear us?"

"If she can then she can tell that goddamn vamper where his stuff is." You whirl back around, gasping at the too close silhouette. "Hello." A chill rushes through you and your too tense muscles seem to relax as a haze takes over your mind.

"Y/N? You good?" Sookie asks. She warily glances around, she and Eric both noticing the atmosphere in the room thickening.

"Hm?" Your eyes blink rapidly as if clearing your vision. "Yeah. All good," you hear yourself saying.

"Well what did you find out?" Eric asks.

You feel your head turning left and right as if taking in your surroundings before you turn around and walk towards the wall where more chains are hanging. Eric growls at being ignored and Sookie quietly assures him that this is normal. Reaching for a chain, you feel your hand gliding along one chain and picking it up, caressing a metal stake at the end of it.

"Y/N," Sookie cautiously calls out. "What are you doing?"

Getting a good grasp on the stake in one hand, you turn around and smile at Eric- a chilling smile that immediately sets Sookie on edge and lets even Eric know that something is off. "Fuck your money. You're never gonna get it, you dead piece of shit."

"Y/N, don't!" Sookie screams as your arm suddenly thrusts the stake towards the side of your neck, only to stop mere centimeters from the intended target.

Sookie gasps and Eric raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Are her eyes supposed to completely white over?"

"Well she did mention learning a new trick." Sookie nervously shifts beside Eric and they watch you slowly come back to yourself, expression hardening.

Eyes completely white, you stare straight ahead as you lower your hand without any resistance from the spirits. "You dead fucks try that shit again and I will obliterate your fuckin' souls, and mark every soul in your goddamn family. Do I make myself clear?" You seethe. The dungeon gets chilly before the tension seems to suddenly dwindle. The whispers amp up before completely dying out and you stand a little taller. "Good. Now where is the money?"

Eric and Sookie patiently watch Y/N as she lazily glances back and forth before the white recedes from her eyes. Her shoulders sag and she meets Eric's gaze. "That Rafael guy had a building he was renovating over on.. over on.." she trails off, brow furrowing as she tries to collect her thoughts.

"I know of it," Eric says.

She sighs. "Well the money's in the wall on the second floor. Happy demolishing."

Then like a puppet with its strings cut, Y/N collapses right before their very eyes.

- - - - - - - - - -

A pounding at your temples is what wakes you and you groan as your eyes flutter open. You're apparently still at Fangtasia, back in Eric's plain office and laying on the most uncomfortable couch you've ever laid on.

"You're awake. Good."

You begrudgingly sit up, wincing as the throbbing persists. Glancing around, you frown as you notice you and Eric are the only two in the room. "Where's my sister?"

"Miss Stackhouse couldn't bother a mere hour in my presence so she went out front to pester Tara."

"You two exes or something?"

Not even close. "No. I admit I pursued her once, but it was only to satiate my curiosity about why she smelled so divine." Bill fuckin' Compton was also a cock block of epic proportions.

You snort. "Cock block. Who is Bill and why did he cock block you from Sookie?" Eric stills and he goes quiet. You frown at him and then between one blink and the next, Eric is kneeling in front of you.

Can you hear me?

"Um, yes?" You say. A moment passes and then you realize your slip-up. You groan. "Okay, so yeah. I can't read the minds of humans, but apparently I can read the minds of vampires. It only happens when I'm at my most vulnerable and being slightly possessed makes me vulnerable."

Eric slowly smirks. "Well aren't you my new favorite Stackhouse."

You fall back against the back of the couch, groaning. "Whatever. I don't have the energy to argue with you. Just please don't tell Sookie. She gets all huffy when I can do something she can't."

Another blink and Eric is sitting beside you on the couch. "Is there a reason why you can read vampires and she can read everyone else but vampires?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." You shrug. "I eventually came to the conclusion that we're just a part of different courts. She's Light Fae and I'm Dark. She flourishes under the sun and I under the moon. I don't really know."

"Have you tried getting answers from other Fae?"

"Yeah, no. I met a member of the Fae court and that's a hard pass. Those fairy fucks can keep their imposter foods. I like this realm just fine, thank you very much."

Eric's lips twitch. "If the vampires find out about your powers, they're going to fight to put their claim on you."

"Is that your not so subtle way in trying to convince me that I should ask you for protection?"

"I'm the sheriff of this area, sweetheart. You won't be able to find anyone better suited for the job."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Keep your fangs to yourself, sweetheart. I can take care of myself."

We'll see about that.

Settling in at what was always known as Gran's house, you almost take Sam up on his offer to become a waitress or bartender at Merlotte's. But then a day after doing Eric a favor, a check arrives for you- a check worth thousands of dollars- along with an offer from Eric to work every other day at Fangtasia to read the vampires coming and going from his area.

You didn't get back to him right away, instead choosing to just keep to yourself for a bit and re-familiarize yourself with the town. And then just when you think you have a lid on things, a constant buzzing makes a home just at the back of your skull.

For days Eric tries reaching you through texts and calls, but you just don't have the patience to deal with him. The buzzing is non-stop, the echoes of the dead sound as if they're underwater, and you can't hold a conversation longer than a minute. Sookie seems to understand that you can't be around people, so she leaves you be for the most part.

Your sister is currently at work so you have the house all to yourself. You haven't been able to clear your head and the buzzing is only getting louder and louder. You're nearing your breaking point, so when there's a knock at the front door you try to ignore it.

The knocking persists so you reluctantly roll out of bed, frowning as you march downstairs and towards the front door. Through the screen door you can see Eric standing there. You scowl at him, he grins, and when you push open the door he's immediately leaning against the door jamb. "You've been ignoring me."

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. "I haven't been feeling well. Something's.. off."

That causes his faint grin to drop. "Is it something serious?"

"I'm not sure. I just- it feels like something bad is on the way."

"Well in that case.." Eric straightens up and stares down at you. "You're going to invite me in so I can protect you-" you scoff, "-or have primal passionate sex with you. You pick."

Though your mind is on overdrive, you can't help but faintly grin at the tall vampire. "I'll take a raincheck on the sex, but if you still want to come in, then come in."

Eric smirks as he crosses the threshold of the house and you shake your head at him before turning around and leading him to the living room. You take a seat in the corner of the couch, curling up with a pillow in your lap, and Eric sits on the middle seat to be as close to you as possible. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Few days now," you tell him. "There's this.. buzz. It's constant and it just keeps getting louder and louder."

"And the voices?"

"Muffled. No matter how much I concentrate, I can't hear them clearly. It's like they're trying to tell me something, but I can't tune in to the right station. It's annoying." Eric hums in thought and you attempt to change the subject. "So what brings you down here to Bon Temps? Surely my first impression wasn't that memorable."

He smirks as his arm rests along the top of the backrest of the couch, his fingers tugging on a few pieces of your hair. "It's rare for someone to amuse me these days. And you weren't what I was expecting Sookie's twin to be."

"Between the two of us, Sookie got all the perkiness. I, uh, I got stuck with all the doom and gloom." Eric quirks an eyebrow at you and you chuckle, wincing a moment later as an lingering echo screeches in your ear. Your attention is immediately drawn towards the kitchen where you see a silhouette walk by and the buzzing amps up.

Without uttering a word, you get up and follow it.

Eric watches as Y/N laughs one moment and then in the next second her expression is completely blank and attention elsewhere. Normally he'd be offended, but after learning what he could from Sookie he knows to never bring Y/N out of a trance. So in order to protect this little fae that just continues to become more and more interesting, Eric gets up and follows Y/N through the kitchen and out the back door.

He keeps several feet between himself and Y/N, his curiosity piqued as he notices her stop in the middle of the field behind her home. She glances back and forth as if searching for something, slowly turning in a circle. She winces and stumbles back, eyes wide and heart pumping furiously. Whatever's going on, Eric's instincts suddenly kick in and he doesn't like it. He doesn't like the look of fear on Y/N's face.

One sudden stumble sends Y/N to her knees, hands clamping around her ears.

"No, no, no," you mumble. The buzzing is extremely loud now, voices are screaming but you're still unable to make out what they're saying. Rocking back and forth, you glance around and your heart sinks as you watch Eric standing there across from you. "Go. Get away. I can't-"

"What's wrong? I can help you."

You shake your head. "You can't. You need to go. Get away from me. Please."

Eric watches you and you whimper when you see his resolve strengthen. He's not going anywhere. Clenching your eyes shut against the onslaught of noise, you slam your hands down on the ground in front of you and your fingers dig into the earth. Your breaths come faster and faster, and when you can't take it anymore your eyes fly open as you open your mouth and scream.

Your scream drowns out the buzz, the voices become clearer and it's only there alongside your scream do you understand them. You don't know how long you scream for, but when you stop your throat feels raw.

"What was that?" Eric asks.

"Sookie."

He's immediately kneeling before you, fingers under your chin to tilt your face upward. "What did you say?"

"My sister. She's not- she's not safe."

"She's at work under the ever watchful eye of the shifter."

"She is. Until she walks out back to take out the trash," you say. "Please," you beg. "Just.. just go check on her."

Eric continues to hold your gaze for a moment longer before he gives you a terse nod and then stands tall. Your eyes follow him as she lifts off into the air and it's like a weight is lifted off your chest. You sob in relief, curling in on yourself with your face in your hands.

"..inside.. safer.."

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your cries immediately cease. Sniffling, you sit back up and glance around the field you're in. Hearing the chirping insects and the ruffling of tree limbs puts you at unease, so you climb to your feet and hurriedly make your way back towards the house. You don't breathe until you're inside, behind closed doors, but even then you're still a little tense and wondering if your sister is okay.

The minutes tick on by as you pace back and forth in the kitchen, and you yelp when you turn around and Eric is standing right there. You raise a fist in order to punch him, but stop halfway there and instead poke his chest as you push him back a step. "Don't do that."

He smirks. "Sookie is fine. A couple of human junkies needed some money for their next fix. The sheriff is on the way to take care of the issue."

"Thank you." You sigh. As you move aside to take a seat at the table, you glance back at Eric and see a blood trail falling from his ear. Your eyes widen and you rush towards him, uncaring about boundaries when one hand lands on his chest and the other grasping his chin to turn his face sideways. "Your ear! I told you to leave before I screamed. Why didn't you listen?" You let go of his chin and then shove him a step back as you go back to pacing.

Eric chuckles. "You've been keeping secrets. You're not just Fae, are you?"

You shrug. "I'm not really sure what I am. I only found out I was part Fae because you guys told Sookie she was. The mind reading is from Fae abilities, but the screaming-"

"The wailing is a whole different breed."

You stop pacing and face him once more. "There's only one creature that wails," you say, "but I gave up on digging into our family history a long time ago."

"You truly are a rare breed, Miss Stackhouse. Half fae, half banshee. The vampires are going to be in a tizzy over you."

You groan. "A problem is inevitable until I agree to a claim, isn't it?"

"Aren't you a smart cookie."

You scowl at Eric then, holding his gaze until you sigh. "If I say yes to a claim, can I have your word that you won't take advantage?" He smiles then and though this vampire is ridiculously good looking, you rather not be someone's pet. But alas, you know he's right. "If the offer for a job at Fangtasia is still open, I'll take it. I don't plan to leave Bon Temps anytime soon and I'm going to need the cash."

"Sweetheart, if you agree to be mine I'll give you all the cash you could want."

Your nose wrinkles. "I'm so gonna regret this." There's a faint click! as Eric's fangs appear, his eyes darkening as he readily bites into his wrist. "Don't tell my sister."

Drink up, little one. We're going to have some fun.

#true blood imagine #eric northman imagine #eric northman x reader #eric northman #true blood #sookie stackhouse

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retroyousei · 3 years

Text

Female characters in retro shojo [70s edition, part 2]

In this series, the female characters in 70s shojo are being analysed. In part one, three of the most common types were examined; the “average” protagonists, the villains and the tomboys. In this article, other three very common types are being discussed.

The westerners innocent blondies

They are either orphans who just want to find a place to belong, princesses who dream about falling in love, or normal girls who always knew that they weren’t where they meant to be and they somehow discover that they are royalty or from a noble family. Either way, they are lively, innocent, but naive, so sometimes they may be betrayed or belittled, but they have a kind heart that knows how to forgive and have faith on people, so they make friends easily. Many times they are portrayed as Tomboys who love the nature and sometimes they get into trouble accidentally. They may seem helpless and dense sometimes, but despite all of this, they are actually very independent, as they may travel to the other side of the world all alone if they have to (they will make new friends wherever they go anyway) and if they need to, they can kick some serious ass too. But their most precious weapon is their inner strength to move forward, no matter what.

In “Candy Candy” Candy, is an orphan girl who goes through so many hardships. At first, her best friend Annie gets adopted, leaving her behind, but her troubles had just begun. She gets adopted by a rich family to keep company to their daughter, named Elisa who is the one who, along with her brother will constantly try to make her life miserable, firstly when she was staying at their house, then in the private school in England and afterwards when she was working as a nurse. But Candy makes many friends and has many allies and with her inner strength and lust for life, she overcomes all the obstacles that she faces. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t lose some of her dearest friends along the way. As she grows up she learns the hardships of life, but all those obstacles makes her only stronger and she never loses her hope for a better tomorrow.

In “the Rose of Versailles” we see Marie Antoinette evolving from an innocent and silly girl, to an irresponsible young woman, to a sorrowful, regretful, but determined queen. In the first volumes, she was still a child who just wanted to have fun and didn’t care about homework, traditions and preparations for being a queen. Later, during her first years as a queen she was portrayed as a naive person who didn’t make the right choices. Also, her friendship with Countess de polignag was a bad influence for her as she goaded her into gambling. But she was also well intensioned and just wanted her loved ones to be happy. Oscar always tried to be her voice of reason, but it wasn’t enough. Later it was more and more clear that she was spending her country’s money in clothes, gardening and building the petit Trianon to be with her inner circle, because she wanted to fill the void of being a woman who cannot be with her beloved. In the end, during the time that she was captured, before her decapitation, she surprisingly matured, realised what she had done all those years and wanted to make things right, but it was too late. Her final thoughts was about her family, Fersen and Oscar and she was proud and composured until her last breath. Throughout the story she was portrayed as an innocent woman who was sacrificed for the sake of politics.

In “Alpen Rose” Jeudi is an amnesiac girl who lives in Alpes with a boy named Lundi. She works as a nurse and has a quiet life, until a French nobleman captures her. Luckily she is very clever and with Lundi’s help they get away. And that’s how their journey towards finding Jeudi’s parents start. Along the way, Jeudi befriends many people, like a little girl with his brother and his girlfriend, a journalist who helps her a lot, a young couple and a mysterious musician named Leonard Aschenbach. Jeudi is different from other characters in this particular category because of her wit and courage. She also has a strong sense of justice and in matters of life and death, such as hiding from the nazis in the trains, planning traps for them and solving mysteries with the information that she gathers with the help of her friends, she succeeds. She also cares about the others and tries to see the good side in everyone. When she finally found her mother, she was asked from her grandparents to pretend that she wasn’t her daughter, because she was blind and in a fragile state, besides there was another girl who resembled Alicia (Jeudi’s real name) a lot. She had patience and it was repaid in the end.

Rosalie from “Rose of Versailles” was a poor girl who lived with her mother and her sister Joanne and she just wanted for others to be healthy and was happy with the simplest of things, like being able to buy bread and helping other children in the neighborhood who can’t afford to eat anything. When her mother is killed by Polignag who was in fact her birth mother, she is devastated and swears that she is going to get revenge from the nobles who don’t care about anyone else. When she befriends Oscar and Andre and stays at Jerjeyes household, she learns fencing, manners, horseriding and and history, to make her debut in Versailles. There, she meets the woman who killed her mother, her sister who suicides because of Polignag and managed to get away from her. She also felt disappointed with her other sister, Jeanne who betrayed her, but she was sad when she was killed. Later she meets and falls in love with Bernard, a friend of Oscar and they get married. As the years passed by, she evolved from a stereotypical nice girl, into an accomplished woman who can protect herself and the others. By the end of the story she was pretty much the only one from the main characters who stayed alive.

There are many other characters who fit this image, such as Georgie from “Lady Georgie”, who lived in Australia with a family that wasn’t hers and after meeting an English noble young man, Lowel, they fall in love, so she decides to follow him in England where she makes new friends, faces many enemies and also finds out about her real family. Lynn from “Lady Lady” travels to England to live with her father and her step sister and there she faces her evil step mother and her children, but she also finds many allies too.

Note: “Anne of green gables” was and still is popular in Japan, because of Anne’s passion for freedom and expression, the book’s “pastel” aesthetic, so Anne’s imagination and strength despite being an orphan, might have inspired those characters.

The worthy rivals

Those ladies tend to have what the main heroine lacks and they serve as her opposite. They tend to be considered prettier than the main characters and that circumstances are easier for them, something that isn’t true. They also appear to be elegant and refined, on oppose to the heroine who is more clumsy and tomboyish. They are usually more practical, down to earth and skilful than the main heroine, causing her to feel inferior to them. They may start off as the snobbish girls who look down on her and don’t take her seriously, due to her clumsiness and her easy going attitude towards work, but as the time goes by, they realise her real talent and her worth, causing them to consider her as a worthy opponent and expect great things from her. They may appear as almost perfect at everything they do, but the truth is that they are also insecure and they are having other types of problems, such as finding it very difficult to make friends, due to their cold nature, as they always appear antagonistic and determined to win. But as time goes by they may change their attitude with the help of the heroine, or better, with their own realisation.

Ayumi from “Glass Mask” is the greatest example of this. She is the daughter of a famous actress and a famous director and she was always on spotlight ever since she was a kid. She is beautiful, refined, elegant and admired by everyone, also considered to be a genius, as she excels at acting techniques, dancing and reciting. Her family environment helped her to pursue a successful career as an actress. But that doesn’t mean that she is rest assured as she always seeks to exceed her parents’ talent, so that people will see her as her and not as a daughter of famous parents. She also stated that no one truly knows how hard she worked in order to reach her current level. And that hard work was something that she succeeded on her own. When she encountered Maya for the first time and faced her on the stage, even though she (Ayumi) was better than her, she felt as though she was defeated. From that moment, even though it seemed like Ayumi had everything and Maya had nothing, Ayumi always thought that Maya had something that she lacked; a deep understanding of the characters that she portrays. Ayumi may excel at the techniques of acting, but she never manages to portray the true depth of emotion of each character. Her portraits of characters are accurate and true to the play, but Maya’s are refreshing and original. Even when it’s clear that she is way ahead of Maya, she always walks off stage with the feeling that she was defeated. As a rival, she is also very fair and she likes to unlimitedly challenge Maya in many ways. Of course, as the story progresses, Ayumi’s talent evolves and she becomes more open as a person.

In “Candy Candy”, Flanny is a girl who works as a nurse in the same hospital with Candy. She is the best of the nurses there, as she’s always on time, always knows what to do, is very practical and smart, yet she is rather cold and distant towards others. She only cares to get things done, that’s why she is often annoyed by Candy’s bubbly nature. What’s more, as soon as she learns that Candy is an Ardley, she assumes that she only works out of boredom, contrary to her, who she has to support her poor family. She even goes at the front, to work as a nurse and support the soldiers there. Candy respects her for that this and she visits Flanny’s family to inform them about her decision, as her own relationship with them is bad, as she only sends them her monthly allowance and they never seem to appreciate her hard work. Her and Candy make an interesting dynamic and many stated that both of them make the perfect nurse, with Candy’s gentle and caring personality and Flanny’s practical skills. At the end, both of them learned from one another.

In “Swan”, Sayoko is a refined woman who loved ballet ever since she was a child. But when she meets Masumi for the first time, she starts being insecure about herself and afraid that she will overshadow her, as she’s younger than her with a bright future, whereas she had a night of glory as a prima ballerina, but after an accident she needs to learn how to dance again. But she still feels sympathy for her, besides they both shared their love for ballet, thus a rivalry begins.

In “Aim For The Ace” Reika is the best player on the tennis team and so her nickname is “Madame Butterfly”, due to her grace in the field. Hiromi is fascinated by her and even though at first Reika isn’t impressed by her, later she appreciates her skills and thus a friendship begins.

The “damsel in distress” love antagonists

They are fragile, sweet and pretty, that’s for sure. They are either the daughters of an important family which aspires to marry them with the love interest, thus expand their power, or they are someone who because of some circumstances, grew closer to the love interest, before the main character even could or when she was separated from him for various reasons. Nevertheless, they are in a better social situation from the heroine. Their character arc usually begins at some crucial point of the plot, which is halfway through the story, when the main character and the love interest’s relationship have had already developed, but had not quite bloomed yet. They are considered to be innocent and kind, contradictory to the main character who is much more spontaneous, causing trouble to other sometimes. As expected, they slowly fall in love with the main love interest, in some cases before the main character even realises that she loves him. Either way, those characters add an extra dose of melodrama and constitute to the story, sometimes a little bit, some others a lot to a point of changing it.

Shiori from “Glass Mask” is an interesting case. She is a lady from a wealthy family, so she’s elegant and accomplished. She’s also very pretty, but fragile, as she suffers from anemia and many times she passes out. At first, she’s sympathetic, as she goes out with Masumi and starts falling for him, even though Masumi loves Maya. But as the story progresses, looking at the way Masumi talks to her (Maya), she starts to suspect that he likes her. Slowly but steadily, she evolves into a manipulative woman, who uses her weak health to keep him close. She sees Maya as a threat and she goes out of her way to make her seem like a bad person in front of Masumi. When he learns about all of this, he breaks up with her, but afterwards, Shiori attempts suicide and passes out. When she recovers, she loses almost all of her sense and she goes mad. She’s hospitalised in her room, where she barely speaks and sometimes she growls Maya’s name, rips apart her pictures in magazines and orders bouquets of purple roses to rip them too. At this point of the story, her parents don’t allow him to break their engagement, until their daughter recovers, leaving him responsible for her. In conclusion, Shiori evolves from a sympathetic woman, to a pathetic creature who’s adrift to its feelings.

Susanna from “Candy Candy” is a young talented actress, with a good heart, who works at the same theater company with Terry. During the time of their troupe’s performances in Chicago, she starts falling for him. Seeing that Terry’s heart is set on elsewhere she tries to keep him distant from Candy. Later on, in New York, during a rehearsal, the spotlight that was above of Terry, was ready to fall, so Susanna ran and pushed him away to save him, but the spotlight fell down before she could walk away from it. In the hospital, the troupe learns that she’s alive and healthy, but unfortunately the doctors were unable to save her legs and were forced to amputate them, meaning that her career as an actress was over. Terry took the responsibility, having a strong sense of duty and being pressured by Susanna’s mother. When Candy arrived to New York and see his play, she learned about it soon. Before she even fathom the news, she ran to catch up to Susanna, to save her from a balcony, before she could jump, trying to suicide, to free Terry and let him be with the one he loved. Candy manages to save her and decides to leave them be. So Terry chose to stay with Susanna to take care of her.

Lalissa from “Haikara-San Ga Toru” is a character that appears in the second half of the story. She’s a Russian noble, who arrived to Tokyo with her husband, who is in fact not her real one, but he’s Shinobu who suffers from amnesia after the war and believes that he’s married to her. Lalissa is elegant and quiet, but sad and the truth is that she had lost her real husband, that’s why she wants Shinobu near her, due to his resemblance to him. Benio, who’s Shinobu’s sweetheart, believing that he was dead, was shocked when she saw them together. But due to the circumstances and the fact that Lalissa suffers from tuberculosis, Benio decides to give up on him. But when the Kanto earthquake stroke, Lalissa was severely injured and ready to die, whereas Shinobu regained his memory and she told him to marry Benio and be happy.

Another mention, is Marie from “Alpen Rose” who liked Lundi and that was the reason that she miraculously stood up from her wheelchair to help him, although it’s clear that he likes Jeudi.

#retro shojo #shojo manga #Rose of Versailles #Candy Candy #Alpen Rose #Lady Georgie #Lady Lynn #Glass Mask #Swan #haikara san ga tooru #aim for the ace #character types #70s manga #80s manga

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sturchling · 4 years

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Hey can you do a daminette fanfic where marinette transfers to gotham because of lila's lies and becomes the class favourite, then lila's class goes to gotham for a trip and, unlike the french class, this one can see through her lies and work together with damien to protect marinette and expose lila. Adrijon pairing and lila salt and alya salt please

Marinette felt nervous as she approached the gates of Gotham Academy. She had never thought she would leave Dupont, let alone Paris. Now, here she stands in a new country, at a new school, on the other side of the world from her home. She had never wanted to leave Paris, she truly did love the city. But Lila hadn’t left her a lot of options.

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Lila had stayed true to her word for once. She had systematically removed Marinette from her friends. Marinette had been so sure that her friends would see through any lies Lila told about her. But it didn’t take much from Lila to convince the class that Marinette was nothing more than a bully. It had been heartbreaking. Marinette had tried everything she could to convince the class that Lila was a liar and tried to prove her innocence but nothing worked. The only people that believed her were Adrien and Chloe.

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Adrien obviously knew that Lila was lying and stayed by Marinette’s side, despite the class’ pressure to leave the bluenette. Chloe believing her had surprised Marinette. But Chloe had known Lila was a liar since that incident with the Ladybug summoning dance. Of course, even without that, Chloe would have known. She may not like Marinette, but even she knew that it was utterly ridiculous to think of the girl as a bully. Marinette was the furthest thing from a bully.

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But as time went by, even their support wasn’t enough. The class got worse. They were harassing Marinette any chance that they had, and Adrien and Chloe couldn’t be with Marinette constantly, though they tried. It was eventually decided by Marinette’s family that a change of scenery would be good. They looked at several study abroad programs, eventually deciding on Gotham Academy. The school was excellent and even had a very well reputed arts program. It was perfect for Marinette. Luckily, Gina had a friend in Gotham named Alfred that she had met on her travels who, after speaking with his employer, agreed to host Marinette during her time in Gotham. Soon, Marinette was packed and on her way to Gotham.

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That is how Marinette found herself living at Wayne Manor, in Gotham, about to start a new life at a new school. To say she was nervous would be an understatement. She would have been even more nervous, if not for Damian standing at her side. When she moved into the manor with Alfred, she was introduced to his employer, Bruce Wayne and his sons, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. They all immediately like Marinette, as a lot of people had a tendency to do. They quickly started acting like her older brothers, and made Marinette feel at home in Gotham.

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So, on her first day at Gotham Academy, she was being escorted in by all of the Wayne boys. She was in the same class as Damian, which made her feel slightly calmer. Damian had agreed to stay by her side, knowing how nervous she was to meet her new class. After everything that happened in Mrs. Bustier’s class, Marinette was worried that the same thing might happen here. That she might become the class outcast and be alone again.

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Needless to say, that obviously didn’t happen. When Marinette was escorted into the classroom by Damian Wayne, it definitely got the attention of her new class. Damian wouldn’t hang out with just anyone. They became curious about this new girl, and were instantly charmed by Marinette. The whole class became very fond of the designer and they were all fast friends. And they acted like friends. They didn’t always ask Marinette for impossible favors, and they helped Marinette as much as she helped them. Adrien and Chloe would often visit her as well, and when they couldn’t visit they made sure to video call with her everyday. Marinette was the happiest she had been in a long while, starting to forget the problems she had in Paris.

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But trouble had a way of finding Marinette. It was during one of their video calls, that Marinette found out that Mrs. Bustier’s class was participating in a program that had them visit classrooms around the world and learn how schools taught in different countries. And of course, the American school they would be visiting is Gotham Academy. And of course, it was Marinette’s class that they would be joining for the week. Just like that, all of Marinette’s worries came crashing back. What if Lila targeted her again? What if Bustier’s class started harassing her again? Or worse. What if Lila turned her new class against her?

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Damian had grown quite close with Marinette over the last several months. They had even begun dating, much to Gotham’s collective surprise. He had learned almost everything there was to know about Marinette and loved her quirky personality. So, when Marinette grew quiet and nervous like she had been when she first arrived in Gotham, Damian quickly noticed the change in her behavior. Marinette changed almost immediately after her latest video call with her friends. He tried talking to her, to try and fix whatever was wrong. But she would just say “I’m fine.” and walk away, trying to handle everything herself. She didn’t want to bother Damian with her drama. But Damian wasn’t going to give up, he was going to help his angel with whatever was bothering her.

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He also had contact information for Adrien and Chloe so he reached out to the two, trying to figure out what had changed during that video call. That is when he found out about the visiting Parisian class. He instantly knew what Marinette was worried about. She must be worried about the liar making people hate her again. As much as he wished that she wouldn’t worry about it and trust that her friends here would have her back, he couldn’t expect that after what happened in Paris. Of course she would still be worried about it. But Damian was going to make sure that not only did the liar not mess anything up here, he was also going to keep that horrible class as far from his angel as he could.

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He only had about a week to get things in place, but that was enough for Damian. He gathered the class together one morning, when Marinette was out of the classroom. He told them everything he knew about the Parisian class and what they had done to Marinette. Needless to say, Marinette’s new class despised the Parisians before they even arrived. They couldn’t believe everything they had done to Marinette, but they were determined to protect their friend for the whole week. And to try and destroy the liar that had hurt her. They had no idea what kind of lies to expect from this Lila girl, but they knew she must be a gifted liar to make anyone think that Marinette is a bully.

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Bustier’s class had arrived and Lila wasted no time trying to impress the Gotham class. She went on and on about her usual stories, while also adding in some new Gotham centric ones. Like how she had helped Batman several times, and how she is very close with the Waynes, practically dating Damian. But then immediately contradicted that by claiming that she was dating Adrien Agreste, completely ignoring when Adrien denied it in front of everyone. Mrs. Bustier’s class ate it all up, as usual. But the Gotham class just stood in shock. This girl was a terrible liar. How did this other class believe a word she said?

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But Marinette’s worries were partially realized fairly quickly. Once Mrs. Bustier’s class saw her sitting in the classroom, they started in on her. Lila tried to cry about how Marinette had bullied her and the rest of Mrs. Bustier’s class started yelling at Marinette. The young designer started to shrink into herself, until she noticed that none of her new classmates seemed to buy it. They were all glaring at Mrs. Bustier’s class and circling around Marinette to shield her from her old class.

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Mrs. Bustier’s class finally noticed that the Gotham class was shielding Marinette and glaring at them. Alya became infuriated that they were standing in the way of them defending Lila. “Why are you protecting her?! She is nothing more than a bully! She bullied Lila horribly when she was in Paris, you have no idea what she did!” Lila pulled out the fake tears and cried some sob story about all the horrible things Marinette had done to her, expecting that when she peaked out from her hands after, this new class would now turn against Marinette and be glaring at her. But when she did look, this class didn’t look impressed. They were still glaring at her, some even rolling their eyes.

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Lila, after seeing this, quickly turned back to her class, realizing that this Gotham class wouldn’t be easily swayed. “They don’t believe me! I’m just trying to warn them!” The Parisian class consoled their crying friend, while Alya stepped forward to defend her friend. “How could you keep protecting that monster?! She bullied my best friend and is a horrible person!” The Gotham class collectively rolled their eyes, before Damian stepped forward, having heard enough. “We are still protecting her because unlike you, we don’t turn on our friends on the word of a liar.” Lila wailed louder, trying to earn some sympathy, which just enraged Alya more. “How dare you! Lila isn’t a liar! Where is your proof that she is?!” Damian pulled out his iciest glare, making most of Mrs. Bustier’s class back away. “Where is your proof that she is telling the truth? Regardless, I know she is a liar. Marinette is the sweetest girl I have ever met, a literal angel. There is no way she would bully anyone. Besides that, I know that the liar’s stories about the Wayne family are completely made up.” Lila whips around, forgetting that she is supposed to be upset, angered that this boy had called out her best lies in front of this new class. “And how do you know that huh?! Not like you would know the Waynes. I will get my Damian down here and he will make you regret calling me a liar.”

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The Gotham class couldn’t hold it in anymore. They all started howling with laughter at the liar who didn’t realize what she just did. Even Marinette had started to smile. Lila shrieked, “What’s so funny?! Why are you all laughing?!” Damian stared coldly at Lila. “They are laughing cause you just said you are dating Damian Wayne and didn’t even recognize him standing in front of you. I am Damian Wayne, and I have never met you before.” Lila stood shocked, trying to think of anyway out of this. “W-well, I said we were practically dating. Besides, I am dating Adrien.” Adrien had had enough and pushed to the front to stand in front of Lila. “No you are not! I don’t like you. I have never liked you. Besides, I am dating someone else.” As if on que, which if you ask him he will deny that this was planned, Jon Kent burst through the door making a beeline for Adrien. “Sunshine! Finally came to see me again! Jon hugged Adrien tightly, while Mrs. Bustier’s class just stared in shock. They had really thought that Adrien and Lila were dating, but keeping it quiet so his dad didn’t find out. Or at least, that is what Lila had said. Slowly they began to realize that maybe just because Lila said so, doesn’t mean that it is true.

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The rest of the week was spent quietly. Lila kept trying to win over this new class, while also trying to win back favor with Mrs. Bustier’s class but that was a lost cause. Alya kept trying to defend her friend, refusing to acknowledge that she was a liar. The rest of Mrs. Bustier’s class did finally see the light though and apologized to Marinette. Marinette did forgive them, but they still weren’t going to be friends again. The damage to the relationships was too much. The week at Gotham had ended for Mrs. Bustier’s class and they left. Things returned to normal for Marinette. She was surrounded by Damian and her new friends, who truly cared for her. She was the happiest she had been in ages, and was finally able to rid herself of the fear that Lila would ruin everything again. She felt safe and happy, and nothing was going to change that.

701 notes · View notes

aminiatureworld · 4 years

Text

Affection

Characters: Albedo, Beidou, Keqing, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,705

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: More “new” characters! I’ve been neglecting Keqing and Beidou, they deserve some love. I hope as always their characterizations live up to expectations! This was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t tell whether to make this melancholy or fluffy, so I guess I half-and-half-ed it. Best of both worlds, right? Although the tone feels definitely lighter.

Albedo

Your friends never could figure out why you were flirting with Albedo.

“That alchemist has nothing on his mind but work,” one of them once told you, “he’ll never reciprocate your feelings you know.”

“I know.” You’d replied, smiling the sort of smile people put on when they’re trying to show they’re not annoyed. “I know he doesn’t like me in that way, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to.” You’d shrugged, shifting the conversation to some other topic. In all honesty, it wasn’t as if your friend was lying. But neither were you, not really. There wasn’t any good explanation for why you were flirting with Albedo after all. You knew that he’d never take it seriously, knew you weren’t good enough for it anyways. Maybe that’s why you flirted with him. Maybe it was better to make the slightest fool of yourself than drive yourself mad thinking about something that could never be.

So you continued on your merry, if slightly self-destructive way. Every time you saw Albedo, which was quite a bit considering the fact you were often posted around Dragonspine and spent a lot of your free time in the square right outside his office, you ran his way, asking him what he was doing, or telling him about your own day. You’d developed this habit of leaning in a bit whenever he spoke to you, and the slight pause he gave as his smile grew wider whenever you did made your heart soar.

Not that you ever started thinking there was ever a chance. I mean, come on. Albedo was Albedo and you were you. There was a great deal of distance between the two of you, as if you were standing on opposite sides of a bridge which was liable to fall at any moment. You could shout across at each other, but never did you attempt to walk over to him, knowing it’d surely result in disaster.

Still, why did you flirt with Albedo? The question sort of haunted you at times. You enjoyed his company, you’d even told him you enjoyed his company. He’d smiled his sedate smile, pausing for a moment to look away from the painting he was working on. “I enjoy your company too.” He’d said, before turning back to his work. It was a quiet, calm, even sort of response, just the sort you’d expected. And yet you kept going, and though you made no attempt to push the boundaries or go any farther, you still wondered at times what the point of it was.

Perhaps following that line of thought was a bit dangerous. You found the more you asked yourself what you expected out of your closeness with Albedo, the more absent you seemed to be. It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid him or anything, no quite the contrary. It was only that you tended to want to be alone when you were thinking about something like this. Reaching out was hard, especially to the person who you were thinking about.

“Are you alright?” You glanced up from the lunch you were pondering over to see Albedo leaning over you. Feeling your cheeks redden you jumped slightly.

“Albedo! Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings! Sit down!” You gestured vaguely to the spot on the bench next to you. Albedo smiled politely, sitting down as directed. He seemed to sober however once he was sitting, scanning your face for something, though you weren’t sure what that something was.

“You seem… absent recently, I was wondering if something was the matter.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine!” You shook your hands out in front of you. “I guess I’ve just been sort of busy recently, or maybe a little tired I guess. You know that the festival is coming up, right? Well Acting Grand Master Jean is really running us ragged! But I promise I’ll be back to normal soon!” You laughed awkwardly; it wasn’t as if you weren’t telling the truth per se, just… not the whole truth. But you’d rather not put all your troubles on Albedo, not when he was reaching out to see if you were okay. Smiling once more you attempted to switch topics. “How’s your research? Have you found something new while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, I’ve begun to study the reaction between macrophage and eukaryotic cells in contrast with prokaryotic cells, and how adding elemental effects to reactions either speeds up or slows down the reaction. But I’m glad to hear you’re alright,” Albedo seemed to relax a bit, leaning backwards slightly on the bench, “everything has been much quieter with you gone. It’s unnatural, I can’t focus as well. I keep finding myself distracted by little things. I look forward to participating in our conversations once more.”

“Well I’ll be there soon!” You promised, heart fluttering slightly. Did he really mean that? I mean sure, it didn’t mean anything more than what was on the tin. Your situation hadn’t changed that much. Still, it meant something to you that Albedo wasn’t just tolerating your presence, that he was actually somewhat involved in your friendship. “I promise I’ll have some very interesting topics of conversation when I come back.”

“Good.” Albedo nodded once more before smiling slightly sheepishly. “My workspace is currently going through a cleaning and the lab isn’t supposed to let any foreign substances in in; would you mind terribly if I ate with you?”

“Not at all!” You responded. “I love spending my free time with you. What have you brought?”

Why did you flirt with Albedo? Why did you seek out his presence despite you and everyone around you knowing full well that it was never going to come to anything? What did you even think of Albedo? Well you could answer that last one at least. You loved him. You loved him very much. And even if he didn’t reciprocate the way you did, even if your friends told you it was pointless and your mind chastised you for putting yourself through the ringer, even if all that was true, you weren’t going to stop. Because you were Albedo’s friend and he was yours. And for now that was enough.

Even if a part of you continued to hope that one day this would change.

Beidou

Beidou was utterly out of your league and you knew it.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to after all. Brash, outspoken, good with a sword, Beidou embodied that sort of restless, self-reliant spirit you wish you yourself could emanate.

It didn’t hurt that Beidou had essentially rescued you from destitution, having found you languishing in a corner of one of the seedier docks of Liyue, and having taken you in quickly after the fact. You owed her a great deal, and was glad to do so. After all you’d fallen hopelessly in love with Beidou.

Life aboard a slightly illegal ship was bound to be an intimate one. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, and it was very difficult to find someone that hadn’t heard about your crush. Someone who wasn’t Beidou, that was. Although it wasn’t like you attempted to hide it; you just never brought it out in the open. And who could blame you? How could anyone who’d nearly died of starvation waiting for some sort of divine help compare to the bravest captain you’d ever met?

So you two settled into a routine of sorts, at least in your mind. You ate every meal as close to her as possible, something which had been difficult at first but as the “secret” spread around became almost comically easy, you discussed your plans with her first, gave her various trinkets you’d found in your travels, asked her opinions about your weapon then asked her to train with you. The training sessions had almost killed your resolve not to tell her, nothing was so intimate as having someone constantly checking your posture, moving and arm here a leg there, closely monitoring how you moved and acted.

All the while you said nothing. It felt selfish after all to even think about it. Beidou had many a time told her crew that they were one big family. On top of the obviously platonic motives behind her love for you, you weren’t about to impose on the crew by trying to take the spot as favorite or partner. It’d make you feel sleazy.

But damn if sometimes your resolve wasn’t tempted. It was the night after a particularly successful raid, and everyone was drunk out of their minds. Even you were tipsy, although compared to the rest you were positively sober. Sitting next to Beidou, who was walking up and down the tables making speeches of various levels of comprehensibility, you thanked the archons above that this woman had saved you. It was all worth the pain and suffering, if only to see her smile, which was blinding at the moment.

“You were brave, my dear compatriots! Distinguished! Honored! Positively courageous!” Beidou let out a slight “hic”, her vocabulary always did turn a bit grand when she drank too much. “Indeed, I’m sure not even the greatest of emperors had an army which could rival the visage of our band of brothers! Storming the deck, why we all might’ve perished! Damned visions, they’re for cheaters! For fraudsters! You all fight without them, and in doing so you prove yourself far more valiant, far more exemplary than they do!” Evidently Beidou had forgotten she herself was a vision wielder. Then again, so had everyone else.

“On this night of victory, of perilous and prestigious triumph, I wish to congratulate the greatest of warriors! This! My proverbial right hand man, the distinguished…” Beidou turned around towards you, gesturing in a very flamboyant sort of manner. You stood there, shocked by the sudden attention, blushing deeply, brain so filled with awe that you only half realized Beidou couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes! This person, this noble scalawag!” Beidou lifted you up so you were standing next to her, archons was she strong. “Now I don’t believe in laws, but if I did I’d marry them I would! You all ought to be more like them, mark my words I want to see some shaping up! There are no levels on this ship, but if there were they’d be higher than you all! Pay attention to my words, they are final!” And with that, speech apparently over, Beidou planted a soft, if slightly messy, kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the people around you, you might’ve fainted.

The next day announced itself with a headache, though as the least hungover of the group you were put in charge of dishing out the medicine and water. The whole ship appeared to be groaning, and though the crew was usually quite active and excited at almost any hour of the day, you could tell that most of the men and women just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“Captain wants to see you when you’re done with your rounds.” There were a few other people helping you out, and the one that informed you about this raised an eyebrow as you promptly turned white as a sheet, before a splotchy shade of red covered your face. What was she going to say? Had she remembered what had happened the night before? You admitted to yourself that maybe banking on Beidou forgetting was a doomed cause from the start. Beidou was perhaps brash and a lover of alcohol, but her memory was sharp, and she somehow managed to never drink herself to total incompetence. If you challenged a drunk Beidou to a duel your chances were going to be about the same as if you’d challenged her sober. Hell maybe they’d be even worse. With that grim thought in mind you distributed the last of the medicine, wiping your hands needlessly on your clothes before walking towards the captain’s cabins.

You loved Beidou’s cabins, they somehow seemed both incredibly grand and inexplicably homey. With furniture made out of a plush and luxurious red sort of material, it was nonetheless crowded by knickknacks; drawings, carvings, and other such paraphernalia littered the shelves and the dressers. Beidou had once told you almost all of it was from current or former shipmates. The luxuries they stole had no use in her home.

“Captain Beidou?” You ventured. The captain was at her desk, scribbling out something, probably a plan. She loved to plan in her free time, whether or not the plan was something doable or a total fantasy. Now she looked up, setting her pen down and smiling her classic, cocky grin.

“Ah, my favorite shipmate. How’re we feeling today?”

“W-well!” You managed to get out, a bit distracted by the nickname. Ah, it seemed she had remembered at least part of it. “Um, captain, I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been thinking since last night, thinking a great deal, and I was wondering, what would you think to becoming my partner, in a, well, romantic sort of sense.”

“So suddenly?” You replied, eyes widening but nevertheless cracking a smile. Beidou’s confession had been blunt, devoid of all the usual flourishes. And yet it was what you wanted, what you’d always wanted.

“Well why not?” Beidou shrugged nonchalantly. “After all considering how you’ve been acting towards me for the past few months, I figured why not become my partner. Unless I’ve been reading you wrong of course.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “I mean yes, I mean, well yes to the first and no to the second. I’d love to become your partner, and you haven’t been reading me wrong.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I just figured I wasn’t good enough. I mean you’re… you. And besides, you said we were all a family. I figured you wouldn’t want me as a partner.”

Beidou raised her eyebrow slightly as her smile melted into a smirk. Shaking her head slightly she approached you, raising your gaze every so slightly. “Well I can tell you right now I’m not too good for you. Not only are you good with a weapon, but you’re about as tough and fearless as they come. I don’t want to hear about how you’re secretly scared or whatnot. Everyone is that doesn’t matter. But you fight well and without second thought. And I admire that. And as for the speech about family, well a romantic partner is family of some kind. Besides the crew won’t mind, they’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I guess they have.” You blushed; apparently Beidou hadn’t been as uninformed as you thought.

“Any last words before you’re my partner?” Beidou’s smile was as wide as you’d ever seen it and just as infectious; you grinned back.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now,” Beidou smiled, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and then a peck on your lips – something which left you grasping for coherent thought “let’s tell the others.”

Keqing

Working with Keqing was an experience akin to slowly dying inside.

You’d become somewhat enamored with the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing ever since you’d first met her. Her brusque and honest manner was refreshing, and when listening to her talk about the archons, about Liyue, about how the past and the present tied together, you never really seemed to question her. She always gave off the impression of intelligence, and, unlike some others you’d met, she had the brains to back it up. And what could you say? Before you knew it you had a crush on her.

Yet working with her showed other sides of Keqing too. She was very self-conscious when it came to compliments. Not that she minded them per se, as one time you’d asked her if your constant praise was a bother. “I just never know how to respond.” She’d admitted, and to be fair you understood that. But as long as she told you she liked them you’d compliment her.

Of course you knew it could never go beyond that. Keqing was your coworker; she was your superior in almost every way, both in occupation and in character. She never lost her cool or found herself off guard when fighting treasure hoarders or when dealing with rowdy citizens. She was efficient, capable, and aware of her incredible abilities. And she didn’t feel the need for a partner, something she had told you every time someone else worked up the courage to ask her out. You couldn’t bring yourself to impose on her like they did, not when you knew what her answer would be.

It was a slightly disheartening existence, and indeed sometimes you wondered what the point of it was, wondered if you shouldn’t just quit. But that wouldn’t be fair, not to Liyue, and not to Keqing herself. She relied upon the other members of the Liyue Qixing to work efficiently and without sudden disruption. And the sudden quitting of someone who was hardly at the bottom of the ranks would’ve certainly done just that.

Besides, Keqing was first and foremost your friend. It was a bit of a fragile friendship, yes, but it was friendship nonetheless; and you valued that friendship well above your own infatuation. If you had to bottle your feelings up so be it. You owed it to Keqing to keep it together, to not impose on her what she obviously didn’t want and to not punish her for it by drawing away. So it hurt, so what? A lot of things hurt, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or experiencing. And this was certainly one of those things.

It was late evening, and most of the cubicles were dark. You sat, writing the last few sentences of a report, trying to ignore the headache that had been developing since earlier that day. A friend had attempted to set you up on a blind lunch date, and though you appreciated their motive the whole thing had been a chore, and now you were late on your work.

“Almost done?” Keqing’s voice broke through your mental grumblings. Looking up at her you nodded, and Keqing smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Can’t have one of our best workers getting sick on account of working too hard.”

“I won’t get sick.” You assured her. Finally stamping the paper you let out a sigh leaning back in your chair.

“A difficult day?”

“You could say that,” you admitted, “a friend went on a slightly appreciated but incredibly unnecessary mission to get me to go out on a date. Honestly, I’d rather her just treat me to lunch.”

“I can understand the feeling.” Keqing frowned in sympathy. “People are too obsessed with the idea of romance, so much so it blinds them. There are more important things in this world.”

“I’d say most people consider love pretty important.” You commented. Keqing shook her head in response.

“Perhaps, but aren’t ideals better than individual wishes? Romance may be fun, perhaps, but there are other things to consider. Besides, I find your company far more enjoyable than I would any date.”

“You do?” You responded, heart fluttering slightly; you hoped Keqing didn’t notice the blush spreading across the bridge of your nose and coloring your cheeks. Luckily it was slightly dark in the office.

“Oh certainly,” Keqing waved her hand dismissively, “you’re the best coworker and friend I’ve ever had. No significant other could give me advice like you do, or help me so much when I’m struggling with work or with my thoughts, and dates are so formal and boring and awkward compared to spending an afternoon with you. Really I’m perfectly content relationship wise with our friendship. Relationships are full of pitfalls, people keeping this little thing from their partner, or omitting that little act. No, better to have an open and supportive friendship like we do.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You replied, and really you did. You’d known since day one that a romantic relationship was off the table. So if you could stay by Keqing’s side and support her, if only a little longer, then you’d be perfectly content.

Even if a part of you still wished that things could’ve been different.

Zhongli

To be fair to Zhongli you weren’t sure how much he understood of any type of human relationship. The fact that the Geo Archon had befriended you in the first place was an achievement in itself.

And yet he had befriended you, and soon you’d found yourself falling in love with the slightly aloof, slightly out of touch geo archon. Zhongli was much more than that of course. Surprisingly open, the ex-deity took to finding out information about humanity with zeal. Always eager to ask you questions and to hear about how your day had gone or how you felt after something particularly happy or sad or gratifying, Zhongli had morphed into a pseudo confidante for you. Someone you found yourself relying on more and more. His gentle nature didn’t hurt either, or his looks for that matter; all in all Zhongli seemed like the perfect sort of person, and though you knew that you’d never be able to measure up to an archon, you found yourself unable to suppress the overwhelming love you felt for him.

Zhongli didn’t seem to mind your openness at all, indeed he sort of relished it, or at least he seemed to. Every time you reached out to grab his hand he gladly slipped it into yours, and whenever you ran up and hugged him after a long period of not seeing one another he always hugged you back. He’d eat lunches with you, and sometimes dinners, and sometimes weekends were spent running around Liyue, or at home listening to one another’s stories or reading one another’s books. It’s truly a magical sort of feeling to share a book with someone. But then again with Zhongli everything seemed magical.

Of course affection aside the whole matter never crossed the line of friendship. You never told him of your affections, and in return Zhongli never initiated anything further than conversation. Not that it bothered you; you felt there was a bit of a gap between you and Zhongli. After all surely it was idealization which caused you to recognize that someone like Rex Lapis had no want or inclination towards engaging in a relationship with a mere mortal. Facts are facts, and there’s no changing them, no matter how much you wanted to.

And yet how odd fate is.

“What is being in love like?”

You looked up at Zhongli, trying desperately to act as if you hadn’t felt your heart rate spike to unhealthy levels.

“Uhm… what do you mean what is love like?”

“I’ve noticed mortals are very enamored with love. I have to admit, my experience with romance is minimal; archons and adepti seldom see romance as something that affects them. But I want to know, as a human, what is love like to you?” There was no mockery or sense of superiority in Zhongli’s face. Not that you expected there to be. Zhongli never looked down upon humans as unequal. Many times he’d told you he admired them. Taking a breath you thought of your answer.

“Well… hmm. Love is very different for everyone. To some love is like an inferno; it’s very sudden and very intense. It sort of burns them up, it’s all they think about. I think that’s less love, more infatuation, but to some that is indeed love. To others love is sort of… staid. It’s being able to rely on them, to talk to them about anything and everything without feeling embarrassed or like you have to put on some sort of show. It’s knowing that there’s someone who will always side with you or help you realize what’s right, or be there when you feel terrible. To them love isn’t passionate, it’s comforting.”

“And to you?” Zhongli interrupted, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

“Well to me it’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose to most people it’s somewhere in the middle. And this is only romantic love after all. Love is so big, so all encompassing, I think it’s hard to pin down. But to me romantic love is both; it is the passion that causes people to do crazy things and espouse crazy sorts of ideals, and it is the staid comfort of knowing there is someone who will always understand you, and always support you in that understanding.” You paused, realizing you’d been prattling on a bit. “Why, may I ask? Is there a reason you want to know.”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, voice slightly less calm than usual. “I, I’ve been thinking about my feelings towards someone a great deal recently; they’ve been alien, although not distressing per se. They feel as if I’m always on some sort of edge, but I don’t feel upset by it. Instead I want to approach it, want to be around the person who makes me feel that way. I wanted to understand that emotion more. I wondered if it was love. Thank you for answering my question, it was most enlightening.”

“That person must be very lucky.” You replied, keeping your tone as light as possible, trying to ignore your emotions, which had risen and dropped so very quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to lay off on the affection now. Part of love is sometimes being a little bit jealous, at least in the beginning, at least for some people. It’s silly, really, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zhongli’s tone was surprisingly wry, as if there was a joke somewhere you’d missed.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Because the person whom I was enquiring about is you.”

Honestly you would’ve been less surprised if Zhongli had told you that he was going to run away from Liyue and join the circus. All you could manage to sputter out was: “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Zhongli chuckled slightly. He raised his hand, gloved fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I’ve suspected it for some time, but I wanted to be sure. Are you alright with me telling you this?”

Alright? You were over the moon! Had you ever been this happy before? You weren’t sure, but you were happy now.

“Of course it’s alright. Zhongli, I’ve liked you for months now.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Zhongli tilted his head slightly in confusion. You stared down at your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I mean you’re an archon and I’m a mortal. I’m hardly different from the other people of Liyue, and I just, I don’t know, I was scared of rejection, I was scared you’d think I was overstepping and that our friendship would crumble. And I didn’t think I could stand that.”

At first Zhongli said nothing, instead he held out his hand. You gladly placed your palm in his, comforted by its warmth.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself so cheaply,” Zhongli spoke softly, “there are a great many extraordinary things about you. Your affectionate nature, your determination to live even when the world is dark and dangerous, your willingness to open your heart to some ancient archon who knows little of humans. If that’s not extraordinary, I don’t know what is. I don’t feel towards anyone as I do towards you, at least I haven’t in a long time. So don’t think of yourself that way anymore, please.”

“I won’t.” You replied. And it was true. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, not anymore. Zhongli would make sure of that, already you could tell.

To some love burns like fire in the mind, to other it wraps you up in a blanket of comfort. You felt incredibly lucky, for you despite yourself demanded both, and somehow fate had bestowed it upon you. And for that you would be forever grateful.

#is damn a swear word?#I tagged just in case #I have sort of triumphed over my computer #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo #beidou #keqing #zhongli #albedo x reader #beidou x reader #keqing x reader #zhongli x reader #scenarios #my writing #requested

535 notes · View notes

dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

And Dusk

A/N: Just a heads up, the sensitive content in this chapter will be marked "<<<<<<" as the beginning and ">>>>>>" to signify the end. The racial slurs used in this chapter were targeted towards African Americans (and still are) and I chose these because I, myself, am African American and used them as a sort of “default” for any POC readers. ⚠️Please, never use these towards anyone. Whether it be in a “joking” manner or not. They are hurtful and were created to be that way⚠️ I wrote this chapter the way I did to bring awareness. Proceed with caution. Much love ❤️

Warnings: ⚠️racial slurs⚠️, violence, mentions of guns and dying/death

Word Count: 3707

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Chapter 3: The Frankel Footage

Shaking himself out of his shock, Five stood from his seat and hurried after his brother, grabbing onto his arm and stopping his strides. “The hell is wrong with you, Luther? I just told you the world’s gonna end in ten days!”

“Yeah, well, you’re always saying that.” Luther nonchalantly spoke before moving away, but Five intervened yet again.

“And so far, I’ve been right.” He hissed as Luther sighed and shook his head.

“Look, you want to go save the world? Knock yourself out, alright? I already got a job.”

“Wait, you work in this shithole?” The boy furrowed his brows.

“Yeah. Well, my boss owns the place,” Luther only received a nod from his brother, so he clarified. “I’m his body man.”

But this only made Five even more confused. “What’s that? Like, a masseuse or something?”

“Okay, you can make fun all you want, but I take good care of Mr Ruby.”

“Wait, Ruby. The Jack Ruby? The gangster who shot Oswald.”

Despite Five’s concern, Luther proudly smiled a smug smile as he glanced over at his boss. “Yeah. The one and only.”

“Well, it finally happened,” Five sighed. “That gorilla DNA has finally taken over your mind-”

“Hey, watch it, alright? Jack’s a good friend-”

“And you’re Number One. Numero Uno. Remember?”

Luther clenched his jaw and shook his head. “There is no Number One. Not anymore. Not in 1963,” When Five stared at him in disbelief, Luther sighed again. “Look, I’ve been stranded here alone for a year. What did you expect?”

Five scoffed. “I get it, alright? You watched Pogo die, the world exploded, and I marooned your big dumb ass in time. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m asking for your help, Luther. The Umbrella Academy needs you.”

“It doesn’t need me,” He slowly spoke to draw out his words. “It never did.”

“Luther, honey,” The waitress from earlier approached the two. “Jack’s about to lose it on some half-wit. A little help?”

“Ah, shit,” He groaned and began walking away. When Five tried yet again to stop him, he whirled on him, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Listen. You’re the genius who said we should jump, right? You’re the one who got us stuck here. And you’re the one who brought Vanya. So, if there is a doomsday coming, she’s probably the cause. And if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you. That’s (Y/N)’s job, being dragged around into your messes-”

“I don’t drag her into anything.” Five swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, she wasn’t stuck as a thirteen-year-old and constantly worrying about her kids until you showed up. I’m surprised she isn’t sick of you yet.” And with that, he stomped away to his boss. This time, Five let him go, his words sending a pang through his chest as he thought back on it. Grabbing his drink, he sighed and shook his head.

“Dad should’ve left him on the moon…” He muttered, taking a sip of his drink before moving to leave his seat. When he felt his jacket snag on something, he looked down to see an object in his pocket. Taking out the tape, he frowned and turned it over.

Date: 11/22/63

Subject: FRANKEL FOOTAGE

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

This world was unfamiliar to (Y/N). She knew she had to have been somewhere in America, but she didn’t know where. The cars, fashion and stores bringing the street she walked to life told her she had to have been in the sixties. But she didn’t want to believe it. Surely Five hadn’t time travelled that far? She had to have been dropped during some type of sixties-theme festival. But the voices suddenly beside her quickly prove her doubts wrong.

“What do we have here?”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a lost little colored girl.”

Tensing, (Y/N) continued her way down the sidewalk, slightly speeding up her pace, but the men fell into step beside her with ease, flanking her sides.

“You’re on the wrong side of town, girl.”

“Yeah, we don’t like coons around here.” One of them hissed right in her ear. Her eyes welled up with tears before the other shoved her forward.

“Gon now, get!” He ordered as if she were a dog. She realized that’s how they had seen her. An animal. Nothing more. Tripping on a crack in the sidewalk, she fell to the ground, smacking her face on the concrete. She choked out a sob as the two men cackled. And to make matters even worse, she felt the pitter patter of raindrops start to freeze her skin.

(Y/N) gasped out in shock when the men spit two wads of saliva in her face. She knew she must’ve looked a mess with spit and tears sliding down her cheeks and blood oozing from her nose. She hiccupped on her sobs and began to stand, much too tired from her previous fight with Vanya and literally being dropped from the sky to successfully do so. The men backed her up against a wall and one fisted the front of her vest before a voice called out.

“Take your hands off of my child!” Whipping around, the men were half expecting to find another target, but (Y/N) coughed and sputtered nonsense upon the person her gaze fell upon.

“M-Mom…?”

Before her was Grace, but… she wasn’t robotic in any sense. She could tell by the raw anger etched into her features. She took a brave step forward. “I said. Take your hands. Off my child.”

And that was another thing: her accent. (Y/N) was immediately comforted by the stern southern accent the woman shared with her attackers. It was a voice she never thought she needed. The two looked between Grace and (Y/N) with smirks. “You mean this lil ol’ jigaboo-”

“Is my daughter. Now you let her go before I call the police.”

“Woman, I don’t care if you call the police-”

Grace took it upon herself to step closer and grab the child by her arms, yanking her into her warm embrace. (Y/N) immediately latched onto her, quivering in her hold. The men scoffed and shook their heads, beginning to walk away. “Make sure to keep that thing on a leash if you’re gonna have it out, ma’am.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She growled before turning and walking back in the direction the girl came from. As they walked past the alleyway, Grace took out a handkerchief and began wiping the girl’s face clean of what the raindrops hadn’t already washed away. “It’s alright, hun, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore.”

“T-Thank you.” (Y/N) sobbed and gently held her nose in pain. Grace crouched in front of her and gently held her face in between her hands.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, it’s how everyone should be treatin’ you ‘round here… Where are your parents? I could take you to ‘em.”

(Y/N) thought for a long moment, watching as the rain soaked Grace’s hair and clothing. The woman didn’t seem to mind as she watched the girl before her swallowing thickly. (Y/N) skimmed over her current choices. She didn’t have any choice.

“I don’t have parents. I-I don’t remember them…”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m tellin’ you, Reggie, she’s highly intelligent for a child her age.” Grace proudly presented (Y/N) to the man she had grown fond of over their time working together. (Y/N), however, was frozen in her spot. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The man whose death she had wished upon for years, whose death had finally graced her existence, was back in her life. She flinched at the disapproving look on his face, much too acquainted with it by this point in her life. “And she’s very respectful. Talented, too, this girl can speak several languages.”

“You seem rather fond of this child.” The man observed as Grace squeezed her into her side.

“She’s my pride and joy.”

“And you cannot remember anything of your past, child?”

“N-No,” (Y/N) shook her head and stared down. “Not a lot. J-Just my name and birthday.”

Reginald hummed and stared her down with an unreadable expression. When she met his eyes again, he was crouched down to her level, his monocle clutched in his fist. “(Y/N), was it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be an honor to have your presence within my home, along with your mother.”

“O-Oh, that’s okay-”

“I insist. Besides, you have been living with her for almost half a year, correct? It is highly unlikely that she will share a home without you.”

“He’s right about that, hun,” (Y/N) glanced up at Grace, who was smiling warmly at her. “I’m not leavin’ you.”

(Y/N) could have cried.

And she did.

One year later, (Y/N) had been living quite the comfortable life with Grace and Reginald. She had been introduced to the ape, Pogo, for the second time since Grace first started working with him. As much as she loved being around the chimp, it brought back so many memories. She almost felt silly, looking after him sometimes knowing he had done the same for her in the original timeline.

Her relationship with Reginald was nothing she ever expected. He was gentle, well as gentle as Reginald Hargreeves could get, he cared for her, spoiled her, even. She wouldn’t have to ask for anything half the time. If he were to overhear a conversation between her and Grace about a dress she oh-so wanted, it would suddenly be laid out on her bed the next day. She usually had a say in dinner meals every Thursday and Sunday and Reginald listened intently whenever she would voice any discomfort or concerns with her living conditions. (Y/N) never had a real father, but she assumed this is what it was like to have one. She never wanted to let go of it.

For her birthday in 1963, she was surprised that he had actually gotten her a present. As she entered the parlor, she was met with the tiniest bark and an even tinier golden retriever, bounding up to her. She gasped and stopped low, letting him jump into her arms. She let him lick her face and giggled in the joy it brought her.

“Your mother said you would like it. Though I would never allow dogs in my house, I have come to understand that there are rules I must bend for you, my child.”

(Y/N) turned to her father. Yes, father. Reginald, also growing quite fond of their father-daughter bond formed between them, decided to adopt the girl. As much as his beliefs and his deep distaste for children protested. There was just something about this child. Or perhaps it was Grace’s insisting, reassuring him that he would make a wonderful father. (Y/N) was very hesitant at first for her own reasons she never shared, but eventually came around to the idea of being his daughter again.

This was the same Reginald Hargreeves who locked her in a dark room for five days straight, but also an entirely different man. Perhaps it was her fascination with the differences, or maybe she just wanted a real father for once.

“Thank you, Dad.” She softly smiled, the man nodding in response.

“But this is your pet, (Y/N). It is your responsibility. I will not find it in my study, in my bedroom, you are to train it yourself-”

“Can you-”

“And no, I will not help you pick out its name.”

The girl softly groaned and looked back down at her new puppy. Looking into its eyes, she smiled softly at a distant memory as a small child.

“Welcome to the family, Mr Pennycrumb.”

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

(Y/N) groaned when she felt the sunbeams of the early morning sunrise hit her eyelids, coloring her black vision with the stinging fire of orange. Rolling onto her other side, she stretched her blanket over her head. They were yanked away the next second, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Mom… Five more minutes.”

“I let you sleep in long enough, hun, it’s time to get up. You have a date with Preston this afternoon.” Grace gently pulled her daughter to sit up, giggling quietly at her look of disgust.

“Preston? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, let’s get goin’.” Grace patted her leg and walked to her door, waiting patiently. (Y/N) sighed and rubbed her face, letting her feet slide into her slippers. As they descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, Reginald could hear his daughter’s sleepy complaining from his place at the table.

Setting his utensils down, he turned his head in their direction. “My child, how many times throughout each week must we have to repeat this conversation?”

“Until it starts making sense.” (Y/N) stepped into the dining room, now in her robe, and crossed her arms over her chest. Reginald sighed and stood from his chair at the table.

“You are one of my greatest accomplishments,” He began towards her. “There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a fine successor. I do not believe you will need a husband. In fact, you would be better off without another individual holding you back from what you are truly capable of.”

“But?” She raised a brow.

“But… I have grown to know you more than I expected… and I know that you would need someone to help manage your finances you inherit once I am gone. Preston is a fine young man who was born into this life, made into this life. He will take good care of you.”

(Y/N) knew there was only one person in this world who would truly take good care of her. But he wasn’t here, and she needed to play the part as the amnesiac adopted daughter, so she huffed and nodded. “Fine… I’ll go…”

“Thank you-”

“But only if Mr Pennycrumb can go, too.”

“Very well, but you will not be gifted another animal if you lose it.”

The outing wasn’t entirely bad. (Y/N) didn’t mind the picnic or the art museum, it was the company that made her blood boil. Preston is anything she would have expected out of him. This had been their seventh date, tenth of the ones he planned. (Y/N) sought out any opportunity she could to cancel on him to save herself from the unbearable three hours she would have to spend with the kid. He was arrogant, smug, selfish, narcissistic, and overbearing. Of course, this was not the Preston he presented to her parents. No, to them, Preston was ‘a fine man with a bright future ahead of him’, or as Grace would put it, ‘a delight to have around’. He laughed like a drunk, talked like a husband, and smelled like a man. All at the age of fifteen. (Y/N) had to remind herself on several occasions that she was mentally the older out of the two and to not stoop to his level when he got under her skin.

“Don’t you think, (Y/N)?” The voice brought her attention back to the boy beside her. She looked up from the grass they had been strolling through. When she hummed in question, he amusedly scoffed and side-step closer to her. “Never mind. I should have known you wouldn’t have been interested in politics.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The girl raised a brow. At her confusion, he laughed and gently tapped the side of his head.

“You’ve always got that head of yours in the clouds. Or turned behind you- like right now.”

(Y/N) turned her head away from where she had been looking over her shoulder. “What? Sorry, Preston, I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“With what, exactly? You don’t seem to be the type of girl to have very many issues. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” She sighed as her puppy ran in between her legs, rolling in the grass once he was a few paces in front of them. Preston frowned in distaste and shook his head.

“You should really keep that thing on a leash, sweetheart.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she folded her hands behind her back. “Really now?”

“Really. You know, I’m not very fond of dogs, so I’m not sure how it’ll work out once we’re married. I think we should get one after we have kids, you know? Just so the kids could grow up with it.”

(Y/N) quickly turned her head to the left, pointing out across the street. “Preston, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” He gullibly looked in the direction, (Y/N) quickly checking the area before almost silently singing her tune. From her shadow, her clone formed and robotically walked behind the two. She quickly switched spots with it and ordered the clone to walk with Preston before scooping her puppy into her arms and rushing off in the opposite direction. Once she was behind a diner far away from their date location, she let out a sigh and gently patted her dog on the head.

“Were you sick of it, too?” She chuckled. Resting the back of her head against the brick wall she leaned on, she let out a slow breath and began to relax. The sound of guns cocking had her head snapping up so fast, she swore she could have dislocated it. Just down the end of the line of stores were three white-haired men, one in a milkman uniform, training their guns on her. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second tucking her dog in front of her and spinning around, charging down the opposite direction as bullets whizzed past her. She dodged them the best she could, jumping a few feet in the air at the ones that threatened to take their place in her feet. It was like a dance; the twisting, spinning and jumping, and she was to perform this dance until one of those bullets killed her if she didn’t find a way out soon. Sliding to the side of a clothing store for cover, she gently shushed her pet as she caught her breath.

The three sets of footsteps eventually found their destination and rounded the corner with skilled quickness, shooting at the girl until she was nothing more than a bloodied corpse on the ground, bullet holes lodged in almost every inch of her body. The three men nodded to each other and turned around, making their way out from behind the stores.

(Y/N) had already been down the street from her house by the time her attackers found the clone in her place. She couldn’t have been bothered to check herself for any wounds, too worried about Mr Pennycrumb’s potential bullet wounds. But the pup was perfectly, happily nuzzling into her arms and wagging his tail. This left (Y/N) to ponder.

Who the hell were those men?

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“Is it on?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There’s an ‘on’ button. Just- There’s something over- that jigga-ma-thing, whatever.”

“I hit the jigga-ma-thing!”

“Okay, well, just- Give it to me. I know how to do this.”

“Alright, here, here. Hurry up.”

“Okay, alright, let’s see…”

Lila didn’t look up from her task of painting poor Elliott’s toenails, his bindings he received after threatening the trio with a gun preventing him from moving too much. Which was beneficial to her, as it kept her from ruining the paint job. She softly smiled as she listened to the argument between the elderly couple on the film Five and Diego were intently watching. “They’re so cute,” She commented. “I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.”

Ignoring her, Diego turned to his brother from his seat on Elliott’s counter. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush.” Five replied, eyes trained on the film before him, searching for any clue to the approaching apocalypse, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah, I… I’m Dan Frankel. And…”

“I’m Edna Frankel.”

“...Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president. Today’s date is November 22, 1963.”

Five nodded as everyone’s attention was brought to the projected screen before them.

“That’s six days from now.” Lila spoke as Elliott thrashed about more against his bindings. Diego sat forward in interest.

“Holy shit. This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five answered. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel…?” Diego frowned, remembering the man he spent hours searching for and planning to kill to avenge the death of Eudora Patch.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila looked up at the boy.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego asked as Lila turned her head back to the film.

Five shrugged. “Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

“This is very exciting.” The old man smiled before the sound of gunshots and screaming could be heard, the camera moving around in blurs due to the shock of the old woman filming.

“Oh, my god!”

“Oswald…” Diego whispered, setting his knife down as Five leaned in closer.

“The president!”

When the camera was steadied to record across the street, Five and Diego both stiffened in their spots at what their eyes caught. “Oh, no…” Five breathed and moved behind the projector, rewinding the film and scooting the cart backwards to zoom in closer. The room was silent as Diego stood to his feet and Five rounded the cart before standing beside his brother, directly in front of the film. “This can’t be…”

“Okay, you gonna fill me in now, boys?” Lila glanced between the two. “What the hell is this shit we’re watching?”

But she was ignored yet again.

“No, that’s impossible…”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

“What… What is it?” Elliott muffled past the gag in his mouth.

A beat of silence went by before the two Hargreeves whispered in unison,

“Dad.”

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