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rolandkaros · 7 months ago
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DAPHNE VAN DOMSELAAR [NED] encouraging ROSA KAFAJI [SWE] to celebrate her first Arsenal goal with fans post-match || WEST HAM UNITED 0 - 2 ARSENAL || 10 20 2024
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charcherry-weekly · 2 months ago
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Charcherry Weekly - Issue 241
Hello everyone, Mage of Light Nick Card here. I traded pokemon with myself and I'm not sure if I was ready for the results. Now for some news.
Frozen Core
Early this week, a team of dungeon crashers was sent to Brumal to retrieve a beta dungeon core that had been stashed away in a frozen cave on the winter planet for a relatively long time. The party consisted of Heir of time Thoren Emit, Witch of Time Katyleen Kitten, Rogue of Heart Charles, Floofy hardware specialist Periodic, and their escort, a private individual. They dived deep into the cold waters with the help of Brae Emit's lapras. Fortunately the dive move kept all passengers dry and safe for the duration of the ride. Upon reaching the cave where the core was stored, the group worked together to extract it from the ice. The party then captchalogued it, to later be dealt with in a far less chilly location. Reportedly this is a step in a timeloop Thoren is following, as well as a past mission that Queen Mab had once issued to the group.
Union happenings
Reportedly, desertia has purchased a number of spaceships for raiding practice. They are apparently standardized to CLC specifications.
The Grand Line, aka the cyan line, is planning on having some of the starter line stops skipped on its route for the sake of greater efficiency on its route, one day planned to visit a great number of previously unconnected places beyond currently known bounds. The potential stops to be skipped include Endcroak, Neon City, Charcherry North, Desertia, Poketopia, and/or Seasaw. Public opinions have been requested.
Pi Fight
Earlier today, in celebration of pi day, Prince of Time Flux Emit replicated a large number of pies in Gene's Garden, inviting the public to visit and eat pie for the occasion. For much of the day, it was quite peaceful, until later on a pie throwing fight broke out. By the end of it, the bar was absolutely covered in pie filling, crust, whipped cream, and tins. Those that were identified in security footage have been warned about their behavior, and cleanup will be funded by those that were involved, except for one that will have their fine covered by somebody else that was also involved. Names of the accused have been redacted from this article for the sake of their safety.
Classified ads
Do you know any significant locations of interest located on Starter Planet that you would like recognized officially? Please visit Unity Town Hall or otherwise contact sourFruit to share what you know with the Desertian National Park service.
Journalists wanted! DSPAN is preparing for election season later this year and is preparing to hire and train a great deal of them to be able to effectively cover the elections in every municipality and faction within Desertian territory.
FLARP players wanted for a campaign in the works! Session zero is scheduled for march 20th at Gene's Garden. Contact arachnidsGlamour for details.
Bright ideas needed! Answers to Korous's imminent water/climate crisis needed! Please contact Secretary Deuce for inquiries.
Do you need therapy? Have you been impacted by the cosmic creation game in some manner? Do you have weird problems that likely have supernatural factors? Contact Dr. Winters at 555-555-0125 to schedule an appointment.
Staff needed! DTA has major openings available for new staff members for both construction and operations positions. Training is offered.
Do you want an ad here? Contact lavenderSiren to get an ad for whatever. If you don’t write it yourself, you risk the newsletter writer writing it instead, do be warned.
This week’s known market stands in Desertia Town: (note, 1 gear is equivalent to 1 silver piece for Plit currency conversions)
DTA train ticket stand
Katie’s potion stand (Now fully licenced by the Plit Alchemist Board!)
shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand (Unity Village location is now open 26/7!)
Brae's produce stall
Karmic Joys magical toys (open during night hours)
Snipper's haircut stand
Korosian legends bookshop
I think that covers it. I decided in the end to just skip the complex conveyor belt choreography setpiece and just have the cards move on the belt as normal, and that managed to break me out of developer's block. Unfortunately Hazell is still reportedly dealing with her own dev difficulties. There will be a mission spearheaded by Rise on monday, to those that are interested. Regardless, I must go to teh sleeps now. Goodnight! (and stahp pecking holes in my walls, pikipek!) https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/480/charcherry-weekly-issue-241
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areptvclown · 4 years ago
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For the Elucien week drabbleathon, can I have Lucien finding out about his bio father and talking through his feelings with Elain?
ELUCIEN WEEK
DAY 7: FREE CHOICE
Okay so this is kinda funny to get this. I actually have this in my docs that's a multi chapter fic. The feelings bit with Elain is spoilery for the story itself so I can't share that...yet. But what I can do is show this part. Basically in this story, Elain finds out of Lucien's parentage through a vision and this scene below is what happens after that. It's set to be a few parts. Where Lucien deals with this information and then Lucien and Elain playing matemakers lmao. The chapter after this is where we deal with Lucien and talking to Elain I can tag you in it whenever I post this story to tumblr.
TRIGGER WARNING: very, very slight mention of child abuse
The three of them settled in the sun-lit room. For an office it was worlds different than Rhys' in the river estate back in Velaris. That room was a standard four walls. This one, Helion's office in the Day Court was a rounded room. Tall ivory columns wrap around the circular area. There were no windows, it was simply an open space allowing the sunlight and the warm kiss of its rays inside to dance along the tiled floor. Elain adored the sun peering in at every angle and the soft breeze that followed. She only wished they were here for better circumstances.
Glancing between the High Lord of Day and her mate, the resemblance was uncanny. From their posture, sitting regal yet with an air of recklessness to the silken strands of hair, matching grins, and the shape of their eyes. Mother above even their nose was the same. There was no denying her vision wasn’t false. They scarcely were.
When she told Lucien of seeing Helion and his mother, he refused to believe it. He was Beron's son unfortunately. His mother would never hide this from him. Elain pointed out to him that he did in fact cleave an unbreakable spell to come to her aide that day in Hyberns. No Autumn court member, high fae or otherwise had done that. Lucien attempted to pin it on the bond. Elain dismissed it bringing up his tendency to glow when in the throes of passion. The seer had once asked her sister if this common for faes to glow while being intimate. Feyre told her it was power from the High Lord of Day. Elain never could make sense of it. Why her mate glowed like a fire bug in the summer seasons until her vision. Lucien claimed it could be from a crossed lineage years ago.
“Lucien...you said you never felt like you were a Vanserra. That there was something wrong with you.”
“Maybe this is why. Because you’re not a Vanserra. We go to the Day Court and ask Helion says no then fine.”
There was panic and fear in his russet eyes when he looked at her. “What if he says yes?”
Elain crossed the threshold to her love taking his face in her hands, resting their foreheads together, her fingers lacing with his. “Then I will be there with you and together we will hear him out.”
With reluctance he agreed and now they were here, an awkward tension like a dense fog slowly filling the silent room.
Lucien leaned backed in the golden chair, hand flexing at fae speed on the arm of it, his equally golden eye whirring as it zeroed in on Helion. The High Lord's brows quirked up in amusement, a roguish smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.
"I've always wondered what that eye of yours could do. What it could see." Elain's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, Helion's gaze fell on her offering a wink, "Petal." He purred, "Is it alright if I call you petal?"
The smile he gave her could turn someone's insides into liquid heat. No wonder he had as many lovers as there were clouds in the sky. She chuckled before answering, shifting in her seat, "Elain is fine."
"Ah, I see. We don't want to upset your mate and have him feel left out."
Helion turned to Lucien who remained silent and watching. A steely gaze on his father, Not father and his boots tapping with the same ferocity as his hand. Elain reached through the bond feeling wave after wave of anxiousness roiling through him. It was enough to make her feel nauseous like they were in a sea of turbulent waters instead of seated, far away from any ocean. His heart, she could tell, was battering so quickly Elain was surprised it didn’t fling directly out of chest. There was something else she noticed in the bond. Realization. He knew. And Lucien was not handling it well in his mind. Elain poured her affections down the bond then overlapping her hand with his. Sweeping a thumb over his knuckles. A silent statement to say, I'm here.
Elain smiled tenderly, noting the appreciation in his russet eye as Lucien glanced at her fingers. Sliding in between his own, squeezing them in reassurance. He repeated the action to her, holding tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Then his eyes met hers. The nervousness etched on his beautiful face softened. Her heart fluttered as it always did when he looked at Elain this way. Like she was his home. His comfort. His everything. Just as he was hers.
Helion coughed a bit too loudly to be real, breaking their moment, "I hate to break up this lovely storybook moment petal. If this is about the Pegasus who ate Rhys' shirt. One Rhys should come and two he left it in the stables. If you’ll excuse me, I do have a party to prepare for and guests will be arriving shortly.” Helion made to stand.
"Sit.” Lucien snarled. Helion’s eyes widened at the pitch and the bite of the one word. “We don't know anything about a Pegasus. We're here on our own accord." Lucien curtly stated.
The two high fae stared each down as Helion slid back into his chair. The fog thick tension is now so deep a knife could only strike it. Helion lifted a hand over his heart " Unfortunately, I don't take mated mates as lovers. I'm honored you thought of me to share your bed." He teased with a lovers grin. The fire in Lucien’s eye was a roaring flame. He was several seconds from exploding. Elain has seen him angry, furious, but nothing like this. If he wasn’t her mate, she’d be frightened at the burning rage beneath him.
"I find that odd. Being if Feyre or Nesta were here you'd take the chance." Elain challenged feeding off the energy her mate emitted.
"I-" His eye shuttered briefly before meeting Elain's again, "Sweet petal," he crooned before he could speak again Elain cut him off feeling Lucien's waring feelings churning through the bond.
"There's a reason you'd deny me. Us. I think it deals with a vision I had and Lucien." She gripped her mate tighter feeling his hand grow clammy yet white hot beneath her own.
Helion grew quiet, brows pressed together, his tanned chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Holding a stern gaze with Lucien. "Of?"
"The past."
Helion blanched, the color of his skin fully drained. All hints of the easy going High Lord faded into nothing. A mask of steel replaced it.
"What did you see?" His voice faltered, shaking and strained. He cleared his throat, aiming for a deeper tone in his voice. One that caused anyone to listen and obey. If an ominous storm with roaring thunder that streaked the sky in lighting had a voice it would’ve sounded like this. It came through gritted teeth in a low predatory growl. "What did you see?"
"You will not speak to her like that." Lucien snapped. Slamming his fists on the desks sparks of embers shot from his hands. Elain jumped back into the chair. Helion had the good sense to look startled for a moment, "Unlike you or my mother, she doesn't keep things from me." then Lucien added that and the steeled features returned.
It was Helion’s turn to stand and move for move copy his son’s actions. “Listen boy. I will rip your throat out if you insult your mother like that in my presence again are we clear?”
Lucien scoffed. Not the usual playful scoff Elain had grown accustomed to. This was laced with malice. “You don’t think I’ve heard threats like this before? My entire life? "I've been beaten for saying less.”
Elucien watched as the emotionless expression Helion wore quickly faded. Now his face crumbled. Pained with grief, the glow in his eyes gone as he stepped away from Lucien. Her eyes darted between the two. This wasn’t just protecting a secret she realized. There was love here. For the lady of the autumn court, and for his son. Her mate.
"I'm sorry." Helion let out in a defeated sigh. "Forgive me. forgive us."
For as fast as that heated anger ripped through Lucien, it seemed to to die down. Like the loud sigh for Helion somehow cooled her mate down.
"I-" Lucien turned to Elain unsure of what to do. Elain did not respond the whites of her eyes rolled up, her body falling back into the chair.
Mate.
The word seared in her head, when thrust back into the past, seeing Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court together. As if her inner eye was speaking to her, revealing a part neither Lucien nor herself were ready for. Now she felt it. The golden spark tethering two souls. Pure, protective, unbreakable love. Seconds later she came back to reality.
Lucien no longer standing at the desk but kneeling in front of her. Calloused palms on hers while he searched her features.
“Elain?”
She didn’t look at him. Her gaze landed on Helion who took a step back.
“You’re mates."
“There are things bigger than telling you the truth. Stakes are high dealing with him and a situation like ours. This conversation cannot happen here.” Helion drew a finger to follow as he stood. “Ears are everywhere in Prythian. You should know this.” He fixed a sorrowful look on Lucien. “We will talk in my inner office.”
elucienweek taglist: @ladyvanserra @helion-ism @bookologist @firestarsandseneschals @thecrownlands @rarephloxes @elucienweek @nestaisgod
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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago
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Double Heart | Chapter Seven ~ Haldir
|previous part|
Pairing: Haldir x OFC
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2738
Warnings: Canon-level violence, injury, blood
**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**
A/n Happy Monday! I’m so thankful for each and every one of you <3
We rise with the first rays of the sun. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel refreshed after a full rest. I slept soundly, trusting my brothers to do their job well. They did spend the whole night awake though, so I make a note to ensure that they sleep tonight, even if they will need to get up for second watch. As helpful as it would be to have two others on the watch rotation, I can’t risk putting the humans to the job—their senses are so inferior. I’ve snuck up on them nearly ten times by now, all without meaning to.
Rumil brings Roch into line behind Faervel. Farther on Roch’s back sits Cosima, her arms wrapped around my brother’s middle. She’s much more comfortable on the horse now, and if the mountains weren’t so rocky and full of steep drop-offs, I would suggest that she lead the horse—the experience is important. Alexander has expressed zero interest in learning how to care for or ride a horse, or learn anything about Arda, really. I will allow him the journey to adjust, but if he decides to return with us to Lothlórien, he will have to acquire skills to become more self-sufficient. Though, I have a feeling Alexander will attempt to leave this realm, or, at the very least, seek out a human settlement. I just don’t know if Cosima will go with him. She seems to have accepted our world and has taken steps towards making it her own, but she is tied to her human friend. The hold he has over her concerns me, though I do understand it. They’re each other’s only tie to the world they left behind. It would be hard to break that bond.
The sun rises above one of the higher peaks, blinding me for the brief second it takes for my eyes to adjust. Looking up, I see the morning sky is decorated with thick stripes of pale pink and brilliant gold. I take a second, and only a second, to enjoy it, then return to scanning my surroundings. This level of vigilance used to exhaust me, but by now, it’s as natural as breathing. Even when I am off duty, taking my leave in Caras Galadon or vacationing in Imladris or elsewhere, I never fully relax my surveillance. It is better to be prepared. Advanced warning can mean everything.
I hear the sound of a canteen rattling and Cosima clears her throat. “Hey, Haldir?”
“Yes?”
“When did you say we would reach that stream?”
I stretch my eyesight as far I can. It’s difficult in the mountains, where boulders and peaks and valleys hinder a proper line of sight, but I make out a slight glimmer on a rock far ahead of us—sun glinting off the surface of water and casting light on the boulder. “By tomorrow morning, I’d wager.” Then, the pieces click together. I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
I can hear the forced nonchalance in her voice. “No reason.”
I sigh. She really should have been more careful with her rationing. “Rumil and I will share water with you.”
Rumil protests at the same time Cosima calls out her thanks. I leave them to their good-natured bickering and return my full focus to guiding my horse and my company.
A slight movement registers in the corner of my eye. “Draw arms!”
I unsheathe my sword and swing it to the right just in time to stop the arrow finishing its flight to my youngest brother. I block another one aimed at my neck. I hear Orophin and Baranor free the swords at their hips, as well as Rumil hurriedly instructing Cosima to take the reins. She protests, likely not yet fully registering the attack, and I cover them as they argue. “Cosima, do as he says,” I call back. I need Rumil and his bow to take out the attackers on the hillside to our right. Orcs, likely.
My suspicions are confirmed when twelve of them descend from the peaks to our left and right, converging on us in the middle. Rumil has evidently persuaded Cosima to take control of Roch and has put his bow to good use, killing the orc that focused its fire on us from above. Sharp clangs and the shouts of battle create a chaotic cacophony that is all too familiar. I urge Faervel forward, cutting through the middle of an orc as I go. One chances a blow to my leg but before it can carry out the act, I sever its head from its neck. By my count, ten more to go.
Arrows rain from above, this time coming from our left. Alexander shouts, and I risk turning around to see if he’s been hit. Thankfully, he hasn’t — an arrow had only come relatively close to him. I have to remind myself how frightening this must be for humans who have never experienced an orc ambush, or even an orc. While unpleasant, an attack like this is part of the job for myself and my wardens — even Baranor, who frequently heals others on the battlefield. With that in mind, I cut down another orc and bring Cosima into view. She grips Roch’s reins with an intensity that turns her knuckles white and whips her head around, trying to keep all the beasts in her line of sight. It pleases me to see that she’s attempting to be observant, even if her already weak senses are untrained and thus dilute her efforts.
While Rumil focuses fire on the orcs attempting to fell us with arrows, an orc in the infantry rushes Roch. Cosima jerks the reins to the right, spurring him into movement. The motion catches Rumil’s attention, and, with deadly accuracy, he hits the orc in the eye. He turns his attention back to the skies, attempting to locate those that still assail us with arrows.
Concussions sound to my left — the beasts have dislodged a pile of rocks, trying to crush us. Faervel is an intelligent steed and dodges the boulders skillfully, allowing me to keep my attention on beheading one of the orcs who jabs towards my middle. As I kill another, the arrows cease falling from above—Rumil’s done his job, then.
Six orcs left.
Those remaining attempt to surround us. Can’t have that. I guide Faervel past the furthest beasts and then turn, swinging my sword, forcing them to fall back. From the rear of our line, Orophin follows my lead, blocking an orc’s blow and returning it with a fatal one. Baranor rears his horse to narrowly avoid being knocked off by an axe. I tighten my jaw. It is risky forcing the orcs into the middle when four of our company must share that space with them. I shake my head, firm in my original decision. It is less risky than allowing the orcs to encircle us.
Alex yelps and directs Baranor to an orc approaching them from behind, having snuck past Orophin. They keep coming. They must be hiding in the rocks. My youngest brother recognizes the urgency building at the back of our line and concentrates his close-range fire on those that attack there. He has also noticed the threat hiding in the rocks and kills the beasts as quickly as he can identify them.
The noises of battle are loud, but any experienced warrior knows it’s the quieter sounds—the ones out of place—that are the most important. A boot scuffs against stone and I raise my sword just in time to meet the massive orc that throws himself from the rock above me. We collide, falling to the ground. The impact knocks the breath from me and the colossal weight on my chest definitely doesn’t help. With my left hand, I retrieve my dagger, slicing towards the beast’s neck. He stops me with his sword, pressing the blade to my own throat. He’s strong, but I’m stronger. I push against him, using the leverage from my movement to flip us over and, before he can register the change, I plunge my blade into his gut.
A fiery sting shoots up my leg and I kick my uninjured foot, knocking the newcomer in the head. He falls to the ground, stunned by the blow, and I draw myself to full height. His rotting flesh squelches when I stab him in the chest. In the second I have before another beast attacks me, I check the weapon that sliced my leg. Not poisoned. Good.
A scream pierces the air.
Cosima.
I whip around, locating her quickly. She gasps, gripping below her left shoulder, staring at the blood between her fingers in shock. I switch my dagger to my dominant hand and throw it forward. Within a second, it is buried to the hilt in her assailant’s chest, and he falls to the ground with a thud.
A blow from behind sends me sprawling, and I catch myself just before my face collides with the dirt. Coughing violently, I twist, jabbing my sword under the orc’s chest plate and in between his ribs — a fatal strike. Mentally, I reprimand myself for getting so distracted, and let my eyes wander around our surroundings, checking for any enemies we have yet to eliminate. Only one remains, and Orophin ends its life with a deliberate slice to the gut. Everyone is alive and accounted for, thank the Valar. I run to them.
Cosima’s face contorts in pain — she’s gone sickly pale. Panic I didn’t feel during the attack sears through my chest. How much blood can humans lose before it is fatal? “How badly are you hurt?”
“It’s just her arm,” Rumil answers for her, looking quite distressed himself. “It’s deep. I do not think the sword was poisoned, though.”
“You don’t think or you know? How sure are you?”  My voice is harsh—harsher than it needs to be, probably, and I try to de-escalate. I’m likely still fired up from battle.
Rumil sets me with an even gaze, nothing but honesty in his eyes. “I know. The sword was not poisoned.”
I nod, feeling my breathing begin to slow. “Good.”
Alexander calls worriedly from the edge of the group. “What happened? Is she okay? Cosima!”
“I’m fine,” she grits back. Her voice is scratchy, strained, so obviously speaking through the pain that it makes my stomach hurt.
But the pain will pass, I remind myself. But for now, I can’t say for sure if the threat has. And I need to be sure.
“Baranor,” I gesture to my friend. “Bind her wound so it is secure for travel. Orophin—search back and make sure we are not being followed. I’ll scout ahead.”
Before turning to leave, my eyes seek Cosima’s of their own accord. Hers are tight, squinted against the pain I’m sure she’s not used to feeling. In them I see so much fear—terror, even—and I feel resolve settle within me. An attacker won’t get an opportunity like that again.
I pull my gaze away. There’s still work to do.
{***}
Thankfully, no orcs hide ahead. Though I am reluctant to leave the group for long, I spend a handful of moments retracing the trail our attackers took. It leads to a shallow, empty cave and an abandoned fire pit. Just to be safe, I stomp the pit under Faervel’s hooves. That will discourage other orcs from sheltering here.
In this rare moment of privacy, I roll up the edge of my right legging, assessing the injury to my leg. It’s shallow, just a slice, really, and the sting is minor enough that I’ve nearly forgotten about it. Satisfied that it’s not serious, I decide to wait to have Baranor look at it until we’re settled for the night. Right now, my top priorities are Cosima’s wound and getting moving again. Now that we’ve encountered a pack of orcs, I am even more eager to reach the safety of Imladris.
I ride back to where I left the others, arriving not long after Orophin. No orcs on his end, either. Good. I dismount, leaving Faervel in Rumil’s care and join Baranor where he crouches on the ground next to Cosima. Behind her, Alexander paces anxiously.
Baranor smoothes a salve over the torn skin. It seems he’s already cut away the excess cloth of her tunic sleeve and cleaned her wound. Part of me is grateful I was gone for it—by the haggard look on Cosima’s face, it can’t have been a pleasant experience. Like Rumil said, the wound is deep. Orcs don’t typically use well-crafted weapons, and this one was no different—a jagged blade had been used to injure Cosima, possibly an old knife or a scrap piece of metal fashioned into a rudimentary sword.
I raise my eyes to hers and find her already looking at me, watching my expression intently. Looking for signs that she should be worried, probably. I say a quick prayer of thanks to the Valar for my natural stoicism that gives nothing away and for our safety. Then, I address my obviously shaken friend. “Baranor is one of the best healers in Lothlórien. The cut looks frightening and hurts, but it will heal.”
She nods, keeping her jaw tightly clenched.
My heart aches. I look to Baranor, at a loss. His bedside manner comes much more naturally, and he gives an easy smile as he wraps a clean bandage around Cosima’s upper arm. “There, that will do the trick until we reach Imladris. I want to redress it tonight though, and again in the morning. I’ve used some of my power to aid the healing process begun by the salve—we’ll see where it’s at tonight. Don’t you worry my dear friend.”
Cosima bobs her head again, murmuring her thanks to our healer. The look on her face—stricken, fearful, pained—both hurts me and draws attention to the steadily growing guilt. I should have been faster. I should have looked out better. I should have—
I jerk my head to the side, trying to free myself from these thoughts. As leader of the group, all faults are mine. But dwelling on that now won’t keep us safe, so, for the time being, I stand, gesturing for the others to do the same. “We should get going. I don’t want to lose more time.”
Rumil nods and hands me Faervel’s reins, reaching down to help Cosima stand. I hear him whisper a heartfelt apology to her, sounding as if he feels just as much guilt as I do.
She waves it off, wincing when she moves her injured arm. “It’s not your fault. I’m okay.”
But her voice sounds fragile, devoid of the liveliness that characterized it this morning. Rumil also notices the change in our friend and is extra gentle when he grips her foot to lift her onto Roch’s back.
Something pricks at the edges of my mind, bothering me. “No.” I hear my voice ring out over the silence. I’m met with five pairs of questioning eyes. I clear my throat, hastening to gather my thoughts. “Rumil, I want you to guard the back with your bow. I’ll take Cosima on Faervel so you can focus on shooting if there’s another attack.”
Seeing the logic in this, Rumil nods, releasing Cosima and mounting Roch alone, leading the horse to the back of our company. As Alexander passes to join Baranor, he takes Cosima’s hand in his, squeezing. She gives him a tired-looking smile then walks to join me at the front of the group.
Automatically, I kneel, locking my hands together as I wait for her foot.
She hesitates. “No orcs in Imladris?”
I hold her gaze, wanting her to see the honesty in my eyes. “No orcs in Imladris.”
She swallows and places her boot in my hands. “Good. Let’s get going, then.”
I help her up, taking the opportunity to assess her face. The fear remains, but it is now eclipsed by a hardness, a determination. She’s putting up a wall. I know. I’ve been there.
But there’s nothing we can do about it now. We’re still in the orc-infested mountains and we need to reach safety. So, I grip Faervel’s mane and pull myself in front of Cosima. I give the order and we continue our journey.
A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are the best :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3. That will notify you automatically when I post there!
|next part|
|masterlist|
Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande
Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @tolkien-apologist @ordinarymom1 @sam-was-the-true-hero @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff
**Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you**
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angelanika · 4 years ago
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How Bizarre Pt.3
<<<Part 2                                      
Chapter Warnings: Toxic Relationships, Sugar daddy/baby relationship, cheating, cursing, implied sexual activity, depictions of racial discrimination
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Your new job is how you would describe as very...eventful.
While most of the girls catered to Mr.Hara in more thrilling ways, you took it upon yourself to look after Prince and actually do some tidying up around the place, which Mr.Hara was extremely grateful for.
And being the generous magician that he is, he then materialized said gratitude into dollar bills.
One Saturday evening after you had tucked Prince in and all of the girls had left, you placed a steaming plate in front of an exhausted Mr.Hara who instantly pulled you into his lap.
The house was eerily quiet for a place that’s usually buzzing with excitement but you kinda enjoyed the peace.
You made yourself comfortable as he holds you tight against his broad chest and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. 
His sleek, black hair was untidy and a few top buttons of his shirt had been undone but overall, the man just looked SEXY.
“Rough day?” you ask softly.
“Yeah,” he groans. “Thank you for the meal princess.”
“My pleasure.”
You hop off his lap to allow him to eat and he ushers you to sit down next to him. 
As he finished, you sprung up to collect the plate but he stopped you and told you to just sit back down for a minute.
You were confused.
“So,” he finally began,”My wife is coming back tomorrow.” 
Well isn’t this fucker just full of surprises...
“WIFE?!” you exclaimed, “You told me you were divorced!”
“Divorced……..in my mind.”
This bitch.
You felt totally betrayed, stupid and almost disgusted with yourself. You wanted to slap him across his cheek, spit in his face and walk out right then and there but... you didn’t.
You knew that finding a new job that paid just as well quickly would be extremely difficult, especially when the employers here were always reluctant to hire...people like you…
You basically had to fight for your last job and even after all that struggling, they still didn’t pay you well.
Mr.Hara watched the anger wash away from your face, being replaced with that of just annoyance and uncertainty of what to do next.
Taking notice of your semi-cooldown, he figured it was ok to continue, “She was dealing with some international relations for the Hero’s Commission abroad and was gone for quite a bit, but as i said, she’ll be back tomorrow so I have to make some changes.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, plopping your exhausted body down in the luxury dining chair, holding your aching head in your hands.
 “Ok, so what does that mean for me?” You asked without even looking up.
Mr.Hara adjusted in his chair a bit and cleared his throat, “ahem well obviously I can’t have all the girls here anymore, so I let them go.”
Your face flew up, “Even Lada?”
“Yes, sorry, I know you two had gotten close.”
You only sighed and dropped your head again as he continued.
“But I would like for you to stay if you don’t mind.” 
Seeing that you were the only one who really worked around the house and took care of Prince, it made sense. 
With his wife around, his little “maids” are gonna have to actually do some housework and that’s where you come in.
“My wife will probably try to cut your pay but don’t worry, I’ll still top up your account and such. So what do you say princess?”
You remained quiet.
“I understand if you want to go,” Mr.Hara said quickly during your silence, sitting up and reaching for your hand, “but it would be a real help if you sta-”
“fine.” you whispered.
Relief washed over the unnecessarily attractive man and he was finally able to relax back down in his seat.
But just as he slouched back down, you swiftly jumped up.
“But if she’s a bitch then I want extra,” you argue.
Mr.Hara immediately laughed at this and dragged you into his lap once more,
 “Well I guess I’ll be paying you extra princess.”
*   *  *
The next day, just as he had promised, Mrs.Hara arrived.
She had long manicured nails and shiny jewelry to match. Her silky dark hair rested by her slim waist adorned with an expensive diamond clip. She looked a tad younger than Mr.Hara himself but her stare was just as intimidating.
The minute she stepped through the door, the whole atmosphere changed drastically and it was plain as day that their relationship hadn’t a single drop of romance.
You wondered if it arranged for connections or convenience or something like that but then again, that ain’t none of your business.
"Welcome home," Mr Hara stated plainly.
“Mm thanks" she boredly replied.
She huffed while taking off her brown fur coat, to which he makes no effort to assist and you laughed to yourself at the thought of how eager he is to remove other women’s clothing.
"Where's Rosalina? I need a massage."
"Actually…” Mr.Hara began, “Ms.Rosalina was getting a little old and had served us well for years so I let her go." 
Mrs.Hara glared at him.
He then grabbed your shoulders and presented you in front of her.
"This is Y/N L/N, our new maid" 
The terrifying woman finally acknowledged your presence.
She eyed you up and down and up and down.
The sass in you was aching to do the same to her and turn up your nose, but u suppressed to urge. 
"Hm," she finally says, "at least she looks the part."
TF SHE MEAN BY THAT?!?!
"Ok Y/N, I'm not comfortable with you touching me just yet, so fix up a plate for me quickly, I'm starving. I don't care what it is." 
"Ok," you said ready to walk off.
"Oh and one more thing....its Yes Mrs.Hara"
As you strolled passed Mr.Hara to slip into the kitchen, you quickly tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Remember. Extra."
* * *
It had been a little over 2 months since Mrs.Hara's arrival and you were balancing working at the house and the daycare pretty well.
When you finally arrived at the mansion one Friday to complete your evening work, you immediately noticed a missing luxury car from the massive driveway.
"Mrs.Hara," you spoke, "should i prepare the dinner table for you and your husband now or will he be out a bit later?"
She straightened up from her lounging position on the couch and looked up from her phone to face you.
"Oh yeah, about that. I kicked him out." 
Huh?
Your soul left your body.
Fly high y/n 🕊
"W-what do you mean you kicked him out?" You damn near shouted. Your voice laced with desperation and your eyes wide and shaky.
Mr.Hara was the only reason you kept this job, the only thing getting you through this job!
She turned to you with a raised brow, confused as to why this would bother you so much.
"I caught the old dirtbag sleeping around so I kicked him out," she explained calmly.
 "Frankly I knew he always had other girls in our bed and I was with other men," she laughed, "but I got tired of it, you know, so I kicked him out." 
You felt sick.
"P-please excuse me," you mutter.
Mrs.Hara only gave you a small nod before plugging back in her earbuds and turning to her phone.
You dashed towards your small chambers and immediately took out yours.
"Please pick up! Please pick up! Please pick up!" You chanted into the device as it rang.
The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please tr-
Fuck...
“Come on you dirty bastard! Pick up! Pick up!”
The number you have dialed is unavailabl-
FUCK!!
You probably tried to call Mr.Hara’s phone at least 74 times that evening and each time there was no answer. 
You didn't have anyone to ask for a possible new number.
The extra cash suddenly stopped being deposited into your account 
And honestly, now you were just tired.
Rumour has it that he left everything behind to go live his best life in the tropical paradise of Jamaica soaking up the sun, sand and sea and fully enjoying the Caribbean girls and culture. 
You laughed to yourself as you thought about all these bizarre events that took place throughout the year and landed you where you are now.
All you could do was laugh at this point.
You looked back at the list Mrs.Hara had left on the table for you this morning, mentally ticking off "Make Lemonade" as you placed the 2 jugs in the large refrigerator.
"Ok y/n," you said to yourself, "time for the cupcakes! Ouuu Prince is gonna love these!" 
As you zoomed through the kitchen, as busy as a bee, Bakugou was on the other side of town casually strolling through the hotel you had left just hours before.
“Did you enjoy your stay, Ground Zero?” asked the polite lobby boy as he opened the large glass door for the hero.
“Yeah Yeah Whatever,” Bakugou grumbled while pulling up his dark sunglasses.
But he was in a better mood than most days and was feeling generous. 
Before he slipped through the door, he stopped and pulled out his wallet, “And uh, here’s a tip- WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Lobby boy: 👁👄👁
“WHERE TF IS MY MONEY?!”
“Umm sir...we’re gonna need you to lower your voi-”
“STFU and take this,” Bakugou yelled while shoving a $20 bill into the boy's hand.
The boy went on to thank the Pro Hero but Bakugou was already storming out the door and throwing himself into his car.
“I’m sure I had a few other hundred bucks in here, where the fuc-……...THAT BITCH!”
It all finally came back to him.
“THAT SNEAKY FUCKING BITCH! Ohhhh when I get my hands on the slu-”
*Brrrrr Brrrrr*
Bakugou continued to curse under his breath as he aggressively shifted around in the car to grab his phone from his back pocket, “Tch. What is it shittyhair?!”
“Hey Man!” Kirishima chirped, “Just reminding you about the kid’s birthday party today.”
“HAH?! The fuck you talking about? It’s my day off!”
“Uh well no, not really. You agreed to show up for the kid’s party today at 4, remember?”
Bakugou finally took a glance at the notifications on his phone, revealing the 20+ reminders from his assistant and notes in his calendar. 
Oh yea this shit to make him lOoK bEttEr iN tHe pUbLic eYE.
“AGHHH!! Fine...I’m on my way. I just need to go home and grab my costume.”
“You’re not at home?”.
“No shittyhair, I’m at a hotel.”
“What are you doing at a hote- OHHH!” Bakugou could practically hear Kiri’s smirk through the phone, “so you finallyyy got laid, huh?”
“Shut the hell up! It hasn’t been that long shittyface!”
“Its shittyhai-”
“WHATEVERTHEFUCK”
“Haha alright man,” Kiri laughed, “Just hurry up ok? I’m pulling up now and these people are LOADED!”
Bakugou started up his car and put Kirishima on speaker as he began to drive.
“Yeah ok whatever, just send the address.”
“Alright man, will do…...wait, HOLY SHIT Bro!”
“What is it?!” Bakugou barked.
“Aye man, make sure you dress well! The maid setting up here is SMOKING HO-”
*Beep* Call Ended
“Tch. Fucking dumbass…”
A/N: wheww what a piece of drama! Sorry if this seemed rushed, I really wanted to get the backstory out there, without taking away from the main plot 😅 Thanks for all the support, sorry for the wait but sit back, things are gonna get heated🤪
Taglist:
@jazzylove @blkirishima @lovinthesiz3 @lasnaro @starrylustrousastraea @thanx-idonttry
99 notes · View notes
stargildedskies · 4 years ago
Text
A Song Among the Stars Ch 3
Tumblr media
Pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn x Original Female Character
Rating: Mature/Explicit (18+)
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings/tags:
Slow Burn
Slow Romance
Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con (never by Thrawn)
Sexual Tension
Mix of Legends and Canon
Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo is protective of his muse
Ballroom Dancing
Imperial Officers (Star Wars)
Angst and Romance
Canon-Typical Violence
Masquerade
Imperial style
Phantom of the Opera AU if you squint
Thrawn finds his muse
Summary: Lyra's life was turned upside down the day the Empire took her. Once a renowned singer and performer on the Outer Rim, she is now little more than a songbird trapped in a gilded cage. Forced to perform and used as Imperial propaganda for years, she grew to despise her life until one fateful night and a chance encounter with a certain Grand Admiral.
Author's note: Hi everyone! Please let me know if you enjoy chapter 3 of A Song Among the Stars. I'll have a masterlist soon with all of the chapter links, but here's the link for the first 2 chapters on Tumblr and AO3 here. Tumblr likes to hide my writing, so please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it!
A big thank you to @pala-din-djarin for formatting advice!! 💙💙
AO3 link here for chapter 3 if you'd prefer!
Song Suggestions At the beginning: Thrawn - AtinPiano The dance: Masquerade Ballet Suite: 1. Waltz - Aram Khachaturian
“I am Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Seventh Fleet. I trust you will have no further issues with me asking you to leave.”
The edge in the Grand Admiral’s voice glittered with dark promise, and a tense silence fell. Even in my current state, I could tell that he was definitely not asking; his statement was little more than a scarcely veiled command. Bost stood incredibly still as the oppressive atmosphere continued. I could tell he was carefully considering his options, but there couldn’t have been many, as Thrawn’s commanding body language clearly showed he had no intention of backing down.
Suddenly, the sound of frantic footsteps broke the silence. All my muscles involuntarily tensed as my instincts screamed danger. Three more shadowy figures came running around the corner of the maze behind Bost. Fearing the absolute worst, I physically and mentally prepared to defend myself again. I dropped my weight evenly between my legs and shifted into what I assumed was a passable fighting stance. Apparently, the change in my posture did not escape my new friend even though I was still completely behind him.
“There will be no need for that,” Thrawn’s voice had returned to its original soft, dulcet tone, “excellent timing, Commander Vanto.”
How did he recognize him? It’s kriffing pitch-black out here!
I quickly decided it was a question for another time and relaxed ever-so-slightly as Thrawn acknowledged the newcomers. If he knew them, considering the present situation, it was currently good enough for me. Thrawn gestured back towards me and spoke again in an infuriatingly calm tone for the situation, “Please escort her back towards the ballroom. I will join you momentarily; the Commodore and I have something to discuss.”
I had no idea what Thrawn needed to discuss with Bost, but anything was better than me being chased down.
The three shadowy figures stepped into a patch of starlight. Any relief I felt earlier was amplified tenfold because Dreycolt and Arkmad were instantly recognizable. They stood slightly behind the third man, who I assumed was Vanto. All three of them looked ready for a fight, and their facial expressions flickered between worry and relief. Vanto gave Thrawn a curt nod before pushing past Bost and offering me his hand.
I don’t know him, but I don’t have much of a choice here, and there’s not really any time to think…. I have to trust my instincts.
Tentatively, I reached out and placed my hand in his; he gave it a reassuring squeeze. Vanto’s hands were noticeably calloused, which gave me another sensation to focus on. However, even with those feelings grounding me to reality, my frazzled emotions swooped in like carrion birds as the adrenaline started to wear off. Intrusive thoughts started to slip through every mental wall I had in place as he led me away from the maze and back through the garden.
Stars, what do they even think about this situation… How is this going to be handled? Is the Empire going to somehow blame me for causing a scene? Am I going to be the one punished??
Before I realized it, we had walked about half of the way back to the ballroom. Vanto led me to a nearby bench; I gratefully sat down and stared back in the direction of the ballroom. The flickering lights, laughter, and faint music indicated that the party was still in full swing and would be for some time. There was zero chance of me leaving early because the second part of my job tonight hadn’t even started.
Vanto took a seat on the bench directly across from mine, and I didn’t even have time to open my mouth before words came tumbling out of his, “Are you alright?”
I immediately recognized the accent, and it momentarily drew me out of my melancholy state. “Commander Vanto, you’re from the Outer Rim too,” I noted with as much of a smile as I could manage.
He returned the smile, but his deep brown eyes and creased eyebrows still showed unease, “Yes, I’m from Lysatra, but please call me Eli.”
It was obvious that Eli wanted to discuss the incident, but it was so very rare to meet another person from a world near mine on Coruscant that I actually felt slightly relieved. It was like having a small piece of home nearby.
Another pleasant change was that the starlight shone bright enough for me to fully see in this area of the garden. Eli’s tanned face seemed kind, even though half of it was hidden by a black mask, and his dark hair and eyes were a welcome contrast to Bost’s icy complexion. Maybe it’s a sign that everything will be ok.
I could tell that Eli was trying to find the right words to continue, but he only managed to gesture around like he was trying to pull them out of the air. That alone told me all I needed to know; he had a rather good idea of what Bost tried to do.
Deep breaths, I reminded myself as I nodded with all of the confidence I could muster. You must be strong. “It’s happened before. I didn’t have anyone to rescue me, but I survived then, and I will survive now.” I was reminding myself just as much as I was informing Eli.
His face paled. “This isn’t the first time?” He trailed off before nervously running his fingers through his dark hair. I heard him muttering something under his breath that sounded like a long string of swearing in another language.
Any chance of further conversation was stopped by the sound of footsteps and the arrival of Dreycolt. He was out of breath from running through the garden, but he still managed to get the words out, “I cannot apologize enough for what happened. We tried to get help, but….”
The apology is nice but pointless.
I raised a hand to cut him off. “I’m assuming you don’t know Bost like I do. That conniving bastard would have found a way to dispose of you both so he could get me alone. However, you getting help likely saved me; the Grand Admiral arrived at a very timely moment.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but a pointed look from Eli cut him off. I raised an eyebrow at the two men.
Eli rushed to speak first. “I was the contact if there was trouble, but we weren’t expecting anything like this.
Something doesn’t quite add up here…..
At that point, I noticed both Dreycolt and Eli had the same insignia on the shoulder of their uniform: an extremely stylized black tribal design with three heads. It was emblazoned on a grey circle, and the whole thing was ringed in red. They had to be from the same fleet, and if Thrawn knew them immediately….
Suddenly, everything clicked into place as I locked eyes with Eli. “You’re all from the Seventh Fleet, and Grand Admiral Thrawn is your commanding officer.”
“Quite perceptive.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden reappearance of Thrawn’s smooth voice behind me. Unlike with Dreycolt, there had been no footsteps or any other warning of his arrival.
Kriffing hell, why is this man so silent? He may have helped me, but that doesn’t give him the right to scare me out of my mind a few minutes later.
Concern flashed across Eli’s face as he wordlessly reached out to make sure I wasn’t too rattled by the shock. I took a deep breath and nodded slightly in reassurance. My thoughts raced through my previous mantras. You are fine. You are safe now. Eli shot an annoyed look at the man behind me as I composed myself and turned to face Thrawn so I could properly thank him.
It was still dark but I immediately realized that he was tall. Very tall. Even though I was looking up, my small stature combined with my seated position meant my gaze fell on his broad shoulders. I instantly noticed the crisp, white hue of his close-fitting dress uniform and the shining rank bar he wore confirmed his earlier claim. He was absolutely a Grand Admiral.
He smoothly stepped backward and acknowledged me, “My apologies, it was not my intent to frighten you.”
Any words coming out of my mouth died at the tip of my tongue as I finally saw Grand Admiral Thrawn fully illuminated in a patch of shifting starlight. All thoughts of this rank or thanking him abruptly left my mind as one thing became abundantly clear: he was not human.
Where the neck of his pristine uniform ended, his skin was blue. Not merely tinted with blue, but it was truly the beautiful color of a deep pool of water that had frosted over in winter. My gaze continued its path upwards and traveled to his face, which was partially obscured by an ornate mask resting atop high, regal cheekbones and an aquiline nose. From beneath the mask, his ruby eyes seemed to burn into mine like red-hot coals.
Trying desperately not to make a fool out of myself, I did my best to snap out of the shock. Grand Admiral Thrawn was the only non-human Imperial of any significant rank I had ever met, and I severely doubted any others existed. Every Imperial gathering I attended before this one had been filled with countless human guests, but I had only ever seen non-humans used as servers or entertainers. Talle, Kaia, and Ahni had never served a non-human Imperial, but almost all of the other handmaidens were non-humans taken from their worlds.
Why is he working for the Empire in this high of a position?
I fervently hoped the dim lighting hid any sign of my surprise. After all, no matter the reason why, this man was still a Grand Admiral. There was no guarantee that he wouldn’t request some kind of a favor in return for saving me earlier. I knew enough legends about the types of favors high-ranking Imperials often pulled or traded, and I was already way more indebted to Thrawn than I was comfortable with. His appearance may have surprised me, but I refused to let my lack of knowledge show. I fully realized that lack of knowledge was a weapon the Empire had firmly pressed against my throat, and it was marking me as prey like blood in the water.
I took a deep breath, straightened my posture, and mentally berated myself. This was all my fault. I had gotten too complacent and comfortable with the Imperials. I had no idea Bost was even here, but I let down my guard and accidentally gave him an opportunity. Dreycolt, Arkmad, Eli, and now Thrawn…… There was absolutely no guarantee that I could trust any of them.
Think, Ly, you have to think. These people prey on the weak, so you have to seem strong, at least for now. At the very least, use caution. Just get through this night.
It was like flipping a switch mentally; all of my walls flew back up, and my emotions dulled until everything was just numb. The sparkling, faultless personality I used in Imperial society clicked back into place. I inclined my head respectfully and addressed Thrawn, “Grand Admiral, I cannot thank you enough for your help tonight; your quick response to the situation likely saved me.”
“There is no need,” his voice was still impossibly soft as he regarded me. I lifted my head and met his eyes for the second time; the heat of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. “From the state of his hand, I would say you were defending yourself admirably.”
My face flushed, “Still, I do not know what would have come of the encounter. If it came to a case of my word versus his, especially since I injured an Imperial officer, I doubt anyone would take my side.”
As a “guest” of the Empire, I had everything to lose based on my reputation. If I angered the wrong person or fell from social favor, I would no longer be useful as propaganda……. The weight behind my previous words went unspoken but was understood by all.
An indecipherable expression crossed Thrawn’s face. Krayt spit, he’s hard to read. Most people had tells that let me read their expressions like an open book, but the Grand Admiral seemed to be very different.
“However, I do have one question. What happened to Commodore Bost?” I couldn’t help the tiny falter in my voice when saying his name, but it was small enough to be excusable.
Thrawn’s eyes narrowed and seemed to burn brighter, “I sent him to be treated for his injury. However, I made it perfectly clear that you were a guest and asset of the Empire, so his behavior towards you would not be tolerated.”
I mentally scoffed. So that’s what upset him. Not the injustice committed against me, but the mistreatment of Imperial property. I wasn’t foolish enough to ignore the protection he had provided, but my blood absolutely boiled at his words. However, I gritted my teeth and smiled at him, “Again, I do not know how I could possibly ever thank you enough for this.”
I wasn’t worried about the medics treating Bost; they knew enough about Imperial society to keep their mouths shut on what and who they treated. Most likely, they assumed he was one of the many starting an after-party early. The rumors of the extreme tastes of some officers and politicians often spread like wildfire among the servants and handmaidens. Talle had been unofficially requested at an after-party once before, and she told me stories that made my stomach turn.
Thrawn inclined his head towards me in acknowledgment of my thanks, and I continued speaking, “However, I do need to return to the ballroom. The orchestra will be the main entertainment for the rest of the night, but I was requested to be available as an escort. I’m sure my dance card is already quite full, and I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”
After all, what good is propaganda if it isn’t thoroughly used, I thought dryly. It honestly did not matter to me if I kept anyone waiting; in my opinion, they could wait for all eternity. Unfortunately, it would matter a lot to my handler if they complained.
“Don’t worry, Captain Dreycolt and Lieutenant Arkmad will still be accompanying you. Both of them are already on your card,” Eli reassured me as I turned around to face him again. “I also took the liberty of placing myself on your card so that I will be close by too.” He pulled out a small datapad and continued, “We are all spaced evenly throughout the remaining time so that you will have someone checking on you often.”
Now that was reassuring. As much as I wanted to be wary of Eli, he seemed to be very kind and it was making it hard to keep my guard fully up.
I thanked him with another smile and reached up to check my hair. Thankfully, all of Kaia’s hard work seemed to have paid off. Not a single pin or gem felt out of place, and I chalked it up to a minor miracle. After a brief inspection, my dress was still pristine, and my shoes were fine too.
I stood up from the bench and turned to address Thrawn once more, but he had stepped off to the side and seemed to be in deep conversation with one of the medics. His current expression was much easier to infer because the poor medic looked terrified. I quickly decided that I didn’t want to know, and it was better that I didn’t ask.
When I glanced back towards the ballroom, Eli offered me his arm, and I accepted the gesture. He signaled to Dreycolt, and the three of us began the short walk back through the garden. Thankfully, it was uninterrupted and uneventful.
Arkmad was waiting for us at the same side door he and Dreycolt had helped me exit from earlier. He was fixated on the small datapad he was holding and muttering under his breath. The datapad looked very similar to Eli’s, but this one was exceedingly familiar.
I peered down at the list displayed on it, “So, who’s on the card tonight?”
“Oh, just the usual mix of the usual senators and high officers. You actually seem to be in higher demand tonight; the performance earlier must have really impressed some important people,” he responded with a sympathetic look. “It looks like your card is completely full for every dance tonight.”
Oh, joy. Sometimes I was lucky enough to escape the last few dances, but, of course, tonight couldn’t be that convenient. I sighed inaudibly and shifted my feet. At least these shoes are comfortable.
Arkmad tapped me lightly on the shoulder and gestured to the far side of the ballroom, “Your first partner will be waiting for you near that column. The next song is about to begin, so I suggest you get started.”
The first thing I did when I stepped inside was signal the nearest server. I took a glass of sparkling wine, quickly glanced around to make sure nobody was staring at me and downed it. I felt the effects of the strong alcohol almost immediately; one glass was nowhere enough to make me drunk, but I hoped it would further dull any remaining nerves. I returned the glass to the tray and ventured off in search of my partner.
The first few songs passed by quickly. The slight buzz from the alcohol lightened my mood and made it easier to tune out any faults of my partners. Some were heavy-handed with flattery or praise, intent on trying to steal me away for the night. Others had already indulged in too much alcohol to the point where their breath smelled of the wine and their steps faltered. At least they all seemed to be decent dancers, and I was skilled enough in social etiquette to politely refuse or divert the conversation.
I truly had no problems dancing; most of the time I rather enjoyed it. My education at the conservatory had included many lessons on the classical styles and different regional dances in addition to my more intensive singing lessons. We were all supposed to be well-rounded performers, so the education contained much more than just singing, even though it was my main focus. When I was taken to Coruscant, it was vaguely easy to learn any dances I didn’t already know. Most of my partners here were higher class, so they had some kind of dance instruction at least once; they weren’t always graceful, but almost all of them were bearable partners that only sometimes stepped on my feet.
As the orchestra played on, the long list on my dance card grew shorter. Some faces were new, but many were the same senators and officers that often requested me. Before I knew it, I had danced with both Arkmad and Dreycolt, and less than half of my list remained.
I told both men the same thing when they checked on me: the rest of the night was going well. They each seemed satisfied with that answer and moved to the balcony overlooking the dance floor. As Eli’s lively dance was finishing, he pushed his stray hair back into place with a gloved hand, “Miss Lyra, it was a pleasure.” He gave me a small bow as an excuse to lean in close and whisper, “Are you doing alright?”
I responded with a curtsy and an almost imperceptible nod. “The pleasure was all mine, Commander.”
He seemed satisfied with my answer as he walked off to join the other men on the balcony. I had turned to grab another glass of wine before my next partner found me when an all-too-familiar voice turned my blood to ice.
“I do believe that I have the pleasure of claiming the next dance. It seems the man on your card….. won’t be able to make it.”
I whipped my head around and stared directly into the cold, glacial eyes of Commodore Bost. Somewhat vindictively, I noted that his injured hand was bandaged and slung across his chest. He had also donned a plain, white half-mask that covered the scarred side of his face since our last encounter.
My heart raced in my chest; I scanned the upper balcony for Eli, but he was nowhere to be seen. I caught Dreycolt’s eye and he raced off with a panicked expression at the sight of Bost standing in front of me. Even though my heart was racing and panic rose in my throat, I knew that as long as I stood inside the ballroom he couldn’t harm me; even Imperials dew the line somewhere.
Bost reached out to seize my hand and I snatched it away from his grasp. “I refuse to dance with you. You aren’t the name on my card and I have no reason to accept your request.”
He clicked his tongue at me mockingly, “So defiant…” He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “However, I am a very patient man. I can be here all night if that’s what it takes.”
Another shiver ran through me at Bost’s chilling words. I closed my eyes and winced at the foul feeling of his breath on my neck. Suddenly, a looming presence appeared behind me and Bost quickly stepped backward. Assuming Eli came to my rescue, I turned around and gave a low curtsy in greeting, but I instantly realized my assumption was profoundly incorrect; the figure standing in front of me was dressed in white.
Still in my low curtsy, I raised my head and stared directly into the smoldering gaze of Grand Admiral Thrawn. His red eyes remained fixed on mine as he bowed and offered me his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Thrawn’s request rang in my ears. Did he actually want to dance with me, or was he just guarding an Imperial asset? Either way, I was incredibly grateful for his second timely arrival of the night. There was no other choice for me but to take his hand.
Before I could, Bost made a small noise of protest behind me. Thrawn rose from his bow and silenced him with a single look. The Grand Admiral’s voice had the same dark, commanding edge as it had in the garden, “Commodore Bost, your presence here is not required. I will be claiming the rest of Miss Lyra’s dance card tonight.”
My thoughts raced again at his statement. Sometimes a particularly wealthy or powerful person would request multiple dances a night, but someone claiming the rest of my dance card was absolutely unheard of. However, I highly doubted anyone would be willing to argue about it with Grand Admiral Thrawn if he was serious.
Bost must have realized the futility of his position; he glowered at me, turned away with a flourish, and exited the ballroom. I sighed audibly, “Thank you for stepping in again. However, I don’t wish to be a burden on you for the rest of the night.”
The corner of Thrawn’s mouth twitched into a smile, “Not at all. I believe it will provide an enlightening distraction.” He offered me his hand again, “May I?”
Kriffing hell, he was serious then. I gently placed my right hand in his left, and he wrapped his long, elegant fingers around mine. The orchestra played the beginning notes of the next song, a waltz, and he seemed to recognize the dance immediately. Thrawn murmured appreciatively, “ah, an excellent choice,” as he pulled me in until our chests were almost touching.
My cheeks colored slightly and I prayed he couldn’t tell. The familiarity with which he moved me was almost seductive when combined with his velvety soft voice and the lingering effects of the wine.
The dance began and we glided across the ballroom floor to the music. This was one of the more difficult dances of the night, so many stepped off to the side and watched the braver couples attempt it. I knew it by heart, but Thrawn led us with an intensity that told me he did too.
Some of my previous partners could dance very well, but none moved with the same warrior’s grace that he exemplified in every step. The feeling of his broad chest against mine and his strong arms firmly around me made my mind spin. He was so unlike anyone I’d ever danced with; he seemed to move with the same strength and confidence with which he commanded.
No, no, no... you are not doing this. It’s just the wine and your overcharged emotions running all over.
I distracted myself from the dance and his burning touch by studying the intricate pattern on his mask. It was white, but under each eye a thin strip of red in a slightly darker shade outlined the openings and made his gaze even more intimidating. An intricate pattern of entwining, golden snakes bearing their fangs delicately wove their way around the mask’s rim.
In the back of my mind, I came to a sudden realization: Thrawn was testing me. As the song progressed, he began using more and more complex movements. It was as if he was trying to see if I could keep up with his brutal pace.
Kriffing blue bastard. I’m not some little thing for you to toy with.
Well, two could play that game. I locked eyes with Thrawn, gave him the most stubborn look I thought I could get away with, and switched my step pattern up. If his gaze was smoldering before, now it was blazing. He flashed me a grin that was absolutely feral and twirled me out on his arm. As he brought me back in, he pressed me against his chest and dipped me low. He murmured in my ear and his breath smelled faintly of the sweet wine, “Very enlightening, thank you.”
The rest of the night passed in a similar fashion. Thrawn led and I matched his pace step for step, challenging him the entire time. By the time the final note on the last song rang out, we were both breathing noticeably harder. A single strand of his neat, dark hair had fallen into his face and I knew some pins had fallen out of mine. This was the first time a dance partner had made me break a sweat since I was at the conservatory.
He released me from his arms, and the loss of contact was more disappointing than I cared to admit. The Grand Admiral bowed one last time as Eli, Dreycolt, and Arkmad appeared behind him. His voice seemed to have the slight accent from the garden as he addressed me, “You dance quite artistically; thank you for indulging me.”
Thrawn turned away and shared a quick word with Eli, who had an expression of shock on his face. Their conversation lasted for a few minutes before he addressed me again. However, this time his accent was gone. “I’m afraid I must take my leave now, but Commander Vanto will see you safely home.” He reached up to push the stray lock of hair back into place and walked off the dance floor and out of the building. Dreycolt and Arkmad shared a look before following closely behind him.
Eli still seemed to be in a state of surprise. He shook his head like he was clearing out his confusion and offered me his arm, “Miss, if you’re ready, we can head outside. I have a speeder waiting for us.” I smiled at him as we walked out of the ballroom and into the crisp Coruscanti night.
Tags: @mittheresabosen @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @handbaskethell
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funky-boat-zone · 4 years ago
Text
can this be a “pilot episode” if it’s a fic—
(the first fic for my salty’s lighthouse au is finally done! enjoy (or don’t). also it’s not going on ao3 because there’s no tag for this show and i don’t wanna clog the tugs tag.)
It was 6:30 in the morning, with the sun just starting to cast its light over Snugboat Harbor. All twelve tugs (plus Grampus) waited in front of Captain Star’s window for their orders. No one knew what they were waiting for besides the fact that Star had specifically asked the Zero Fleet to wait at her window instead of his.
Ten Cents yawned. “Why’d Captain bring the Zeroes here instead of just waiting for Zero to come to work?”
“What, do you have a problem with us staying at your dock?” Zorran snapped, Zug glancing apologetically at Ten Cents on his behalf.
Ten Cents sputtered in irritation. “No, of course not! Sheesh, are you sure you’re not the one with a prob—“
“Have some respect! If she called all of us over, it must be something serious!” Top Hat protested.
“D’ya think somebody sunk?” ZB tactlessly wondered aloud to Zak, earning him a few horrified looks from his fellow tugs.
“Well if the Coast Guard’s not here, it probably wasn’t someone that important.” Zak replied, only to spot Zorran glaring at him. “… What?”
“Shh, here she comes!” Hercules ordered, which promptly stopped the boats’ chatter.. for the time being, anyway.
Sure enough, a blue and white-striped megaphone popped out of the window. “Star Fleet, Zeroes, Boomer’s owner wants to know if Snugboat Harbor has the right kind of jobs for him and he’s coming to assist you all with work today! Whether or not he decides to stay, I expect you all to be on your best behavior!” With that, she returned to her office, closing the window on the way and leaving the tugs to talk amongst themselves until Boomer inevitably arrived.
Ten Cents groaned. “Oh no, what’d we do?”
“What do ya mean?” Zip asked.
“He’s jinxed! Cursed! No reasonable captain would make their tugs work with Boomer unless it was some kind of punishment!” Big Stack cried.
Ten Cents’ sighed. “I remember when he wanted to ‘help us out’ with a liner.”
“How’d that go?” Sunshine asked, although she quickly realized her mistake when she saw how Ten Cents’ face fell. “… Too soon?”
“Lighten up everyone, it’s not like he means to bring bad luck.” Warrior chided.
“And it’s not like Sunshine means to run bow-first into other tugs because she can’t take two seconds to look where she’s going, what’s your point?” Zorran argued, ignoring Sunshine’s cry of “Hey!” from across the jetty.
“Can’t we at least try to be nice to him?” Sunshine suggested. “Who knows? Maybe his luck will turn if we stop acting like everything he does is bad luck, just saying.”
The dead silence from both fleets indicated that they weren’t feeling inclined to take her suggestion.
Roughly an hour later, ZB spotted a tug in an orange worker’s cap and matching livery entering the harbor. What stood out to him the most was the tape and bandages covering the vessel, no doubt covering the cracks, dents, and holes from his countless accidents. “Must be Boomer.” He thought aloud to himself, pulling his barges out of the way so he could pass by. From how far away the other tug was, there was almost no way Boomer would actually hit the barges, but better safe than sorry, right?
Almost as soon as the tug in the orange cap was out of sight, ZB heard Zero cry “Watch the dock, watch the dock— I said *watch the dock!*”, which was in turn followed by a loud thunk and Zero lamenting the damage to his newly-repaired dock.
“Yep, has to be Boomer.” ZB corrected himself.
Much to the dismay of everyone, including the captains, Boomer’s first job for the day involved helping Warrior and Big Stack transport explosives. Both fleets were ordered to give them plenty of room, which they gladly did, excessively so: Not just because it was captain’s orders, but because no one wanted to be hit with flying shrapnel in case this job went wrong.
“C’mon, I’m pretty sure we don’t need to give them that much room.” Hercules sighed, noticing how both fleets were stationed almost a liner’s length apart from each other. Despite his reassurance, no one made a move to get closer.
“Well, I may end up in a museum someday, but that day will not be today and my exhibit will not be one on shipwrecks!” Top Hat argued, earning a few eye-rolls from the rest of his fleet.
“Really, you guys need to stop assuming the worst of him! He’s not even the one towing the explosives, there’s no possible way he could—!“ Hercules was interrupted by an explosion, followed quickly by Big Stack proclaiming “I’m okay!” in the distance. He looked to his horrified fleet. “O-Okay, that was just a fluke! Besides, it doesn’t sound like all the barges exploded—!” As if on cue, there was another explosion.. And another. And another. Warrior, Big Stack, and Boomer met up with their fleet and were thankfully all still afloat and intact, albeit covered in soot and understandably shaken.
“… Did you manage to save any of the barges?” Top Hat squeaked out, looking at the smoke rapidly rising in the distance.
“Some of them! Well, I don’t know how much good they’ll be, since they’re.. kinda-sorta—well, very much on fire now.” Boomer stammered. “But we tried!” Almost immediately after Boomer stopped speaking, there was a bright orange light in the distance, with all the tugs recognizing it as a fire.
Sunshine winced as her fleet scattered and passed her to find the Fire Chief. Ten Cents sighed.
At the very least, the blaze was only the second worst fire he’d ever seen in port.
“Who needs the Star Fleet? Zero’s been looking for another tug anyway.” Zorran noted as Boomer and the rest of the Zero Fleet prepared to pull down a group of old buildings. “Now, all you have to do is secure your line to these buildings, sound your whistle to make sure everyone gets clear, and pull them down.” There’s no possible way Boomer could mess this up, it’s so easy that even Zip and Zug can do it!
Boomer did as he was instructed, sounding his whistle as soon as he got his line on the building’s superstructure. The rest of the Zero Fleet stayed back, shut their eyes, and waited for the sound of the building to come down.
… And waited. And waited.
“I’m not hearing any…” Zug stammered to try and find the right word before settling for just poorly imitating the sound of a building falling down. “Y’know, any of that.”
“Zorran?” Boomer called. “It’s— Uh, the building’s not coming down!”
“… What?” Zorran asked incredulously.
“I think I made myself pretty clear, I’ve been—“ Boomer stopped to catch his breath, “I’ve been at it for at least a few minutes and it hasn’t budged.”
Zorran steamed over to where Boomer was struggling, wondering how he could fail such a simple task. “Move over and let me see that!”
ZB cringed as soon as he saw his boss head toward Boomer. “D’ya think the building’s gonna collapse if he—“
Zak quickly wrapped his line around ZB’s towbitts, making sure he stayed put. “Nah, let Zorran figure that out for himself.” He said. ZB stayed out, failing to notice the smirk on Zak’s face.
Zorran approached the building, having pushed Boomer out of the way. “I don’t see any reason why it hasn’t fallen yet—OH NO!” Shrapnel and dust flew everywhere as the building finally collapsed as the Zeroes had hoped.. right on top of Zorran, who sunk to the bottom with a terrified yelp.
Once the dust cleared, the rest of the Zero Fleet hesitantly steamed over to check if Zorran was okay. Thankfully, he wasn’t fully sunk, since the water near the abandoned buildings was too shallow to let that happen. In fact, he seemed relatively fine for a tug who’d just had a small building collapse on top of him.
“You—“ ZB coughed, “You okay?” he asked nervously, turning carefully to avoid hitting the debris in the water and coughing from the still-lingering dust.
Zorran just shook his wheelhouse resignedly, his eyes unfocused. “At this rate, those kids will go blind if they keep talking to that lighthouse.” He muttered.
The Zeroes exchanged a nervous glance with each other.
“I’ll get him to Lucky’s.” Zak sighed.
Zorran returned from Lucky’s good as new, although he looked just as irritated as usual. With the Zero Fleet done with their jobs for the day, he planned to meet up with them near a set of old docks, hoping the Star Fleet wouldn’t come by. “So, who do you think is going to be the oh-so-lucky fleet who gets stuck with Boomer?”
“Probably the Star Fleet, I’m calling it now.” Zak said. “They’ll take anything! I mean, look at Grampus! What’s Captain Star gonna do with a submarine, make him check the docks for barnacles?”
“Hey, he could check boats for barnacles too!”
“Not my point, Zug.”
“Sorry.”
Unbeknownst to the Zeroes, the Star Fleet were having a near-identical argument at their own dock.
“I don’t wanna say I don’t want him around—“ Sunshine began.
“I do.” Top Hat said snootily, causing the rest of the Stars at the dock to glare at him.
Sunshine ignored Top Hat and went on. “—But Captain just got Grampus, and I didn’t hear her talking about buying another tug.”
“Ah, so Zero wants him, then.” Big Stack sighed. “Never thought I’d say this, but I feel bad for the Zero fleet.”
Both the Stars and the Zeroes apparently had the same idea, because Warrior, Big Stack, and Zorran all found themselves gathered in front of the Star Dock in hopes that they’d get Captain Star to change her mind.
“What’s the problem, Star Fleet.. and Zorran?”
“Well, it’s not that we don’t like Boomer..” Warrior began, only for his brother to cut him off.
“We just hate working with him! I keep telling you, every time someone works with him, they end up crashing, sinking, or getting set on fire! Unless you put something into place to keep this from happening, he can work alone!”
Zorran cut in. “Or at least get someone more expendable to—“
“Zorran!” Both brothers snapped, prompting the Zero Fleet’s leader to shut up.
Captain Star sighed. “I guess now’s a good time to tell you that Boomer likely won’t be working with either of your fleets. Zero and I have thought it over and talked it out, and he doesn’t need a new harbor tug and the Star Fleet has plenty of tugs as is.”
“… Oh.” Big Stack and Warrior responded awkwardly. As much as they didn’t like working with Boomer, it wasn’t as if they wanted to drive him out of the harbor.
“Yes!” Zorran cheered quietly, though not quietly enough to keep Warrior from hearing him and shooting him a disapproving glance.
Captain Star ignored the tugs’ reactions and continued. “Star Fleet, I’d like you to say goodbye to him once you’re all done with work. Snugboat Harbor wasn’t the right fit for him, but let’s wish him luck.”
“Aye aye!” The Star Fleeters agreed before leaving to help the rest of their fleet finish work for the day. Zorran just turned around, headed for his own dock, and prepared to go to sleep.
The sun was just beginning to fall as the Stars and the Zeroes gathered to say goodbye to Boomer. The Zeroes arrived twenty minutes late, because Zorran refused to leave his dock and it took the rest of his fleet to drag him to the meeting spot.
“Goodbye Boomer! We wish you the best of luck!” Sunshine cheered.
The Zero Fleet looked to Zorran, only to realize he was falling asleep where he was floating. Hoping Boomer wouldn’t notice, ZB bumped his leader, jolting him awake.
“Uh— what she said!” Zorran shouted as his fleet sighed disappointedly behind him.
Thankfully, Boomer took no notice. “Thanks guys! I’ll be sure to write or visit or something once I find my new job!” He shouted before sailing off toward the horizon.. But not before accidentally sinking a buoy on his way out.
“Should we tell—“ Otis wondered aloud before Hercules cut him off.
“Nah, Captain doesn’t have to know.” Hercules said, wanting to just enjoy the moment.
But once Boomer passed under Snugboat Harbor’s bridge, a small piece of infrastructure came loose and crashed down onto his bow. While it wasn’t enough to collapse the bridge, it was certainly enough for Boomer to notice as he yelped in pain.
The Star Fleet froze in horror, wondering if they should go and help before Boomer’s voice broke the silence. “I’m okay!”
Realizing the rest of his fleet was staring at him with an expression that could best be described as “We told you so”, Hercules sighed and turned around to head to his dock. “I know, I know, I’ll go tell Captain.”
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megurine-san-7u7 · 4 years ago
Text
My Valentine - OS
WONDERCORP PROMPT
It was one of those days in which Kara would drop by unannounced with donuts in hand. Successfully pulling Lena away from her tiring job.
Although it was still a bit difficult for her to get used to the idea of having friends, the blonde reporter was very persistent in becoming her friend that Lena was unable to refuse that friendship.
And even when from time to time the Luthor was reluctant to trust, given her rocky past with betrayals in her life. Lena just had to remember brown hair, chocolate eyes and gentle kisses, and all doubts would banish.
She had met Diana by chance in one of her trips to Europe, and the amazon was quick to win her heart.
How could she resist a goddess herself?
Diana had teared down her walls and made her believe in people again. The amazon was the only reason Lena didn’t shut herself off completely after her brother’s trial.
A sigh left her lips, it was barely noticeable, and even with super hearing, Kara was more distracted by the story she was telling Lena.
And she should probably pay attention, but her mind was elsewhere.
Miles away, more precisely, across the ocean. In a certain museum where her lover worked.
It had been barely a year since she moved to National City.
The memory of the day she took the hardest decision of her life, was still fresh in her mind.
.
She got off the phone, a blank expression and dull eyes.
Diana was by her side in an instant gently taking hold of her face to look her in the eye.
“What’s wrong?” She asked with a soft voice.
“LuthorCorp…” Lena mumbled with a distant gaze. “…is mine now…”
The amazon waited for Lena to gather her thoughts, gently stroking her lover’s cheeks with tenderness.
“I-I thought mother would take control…” a frown etched on her features. “but…Lex left it all to me in case something happened-” again a distant gaze settled on her features, as if her mind was miles away.
Because something did happen. Her brother went mad and murdered hundreds of innocent people, all because of his vendetta against Superman.
“Lena-”
“I just can’t believe him!” Lena huffed in anger and moved away from her lover’s touch. “I don’t want LuthorCorp, I never wanted it!” She exclaimed while pacing around the room. “Lex knew it! And he still-”
Her anger was abruptly stopped when a pair of strong arms surrounded her body from behind. Lena felt the instant calm Diana always provided.
“Why would he do that?” She muttered with a broken voice.
“I don’t know…” It was the only thing Diana could say. “But it is done.”
Lena sighed and turned around to hid her face in Diana’s neck, letting her lover held her and comfort her.
“What to do next is up to you, my love.” The hero mumbled while gently caressing the Luthor’s soft hair.
Lena knew Diana was right, and a lump formed in throat.
She wanted to stay in Paris with her lover, but with her family’s company in her control, her wish could not be anymore.
LuthorCorp was one of the biggest companies in the world, holding much power, and in the wrong hands -like her brother’s- its resources could be used wrongly.
It was easier to walk away from it all when she didn’t have the power to do something. But with Lex’s actions, Lena did have the power to change the company’s future, to turn it into a force of good.
The only catch, she’d have to return to America.
“I have to go back…” The words left her lips in a whisper, as if reluctant to be voiced at all.
“I know…” Diana said gently, still caressing her hair.
Soon the tears she was trying to swallow couldn’t be held back anymore, and Lena started crying on her lover’s shoulder, wetting her expensive blouse. But Diana didn’t complain, on the contrary, she strengthened her hold on the young woman.
The hero knew her better than anyone else, and she always understood Lena’s actions, never asking for something the Luthor wasn’t ready to give.
“I don’t want to leave here…”
“I know…” With a sigh, Diana gently moved Lena away, placing her palms on Lena’s cheeks and wiping away the tears. “But it doesn’t mean this has to end here.”
“No?”
“We can make this work if you want, Lena. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She said those words with sincerity and a big teary smile on her face.
.
“Lena?” Kara’s voice brought her out of her memories, and by the look on the blonde’s face, it wasn’t the first time calling her name.
“Sorry, I spaced out a bit.” Lena said with a practiced reassuring smile. “What did you say?”
Kara narrowed her eyes a bit, and a crinkle formed between them. It was clear she was worried, but their friendship was still new and she didn’t want to push.
“I asked you about your plans for this Tuesday.” Kara said with a smile.
“Uh, I have work to do-”
“What?! No, you can’t work on Tuesday!” Kara refuted right away, an offended frown on her face.
At her confused expression, the blonde opened her eyes in surprise.
“You don’t know what this Tuesday is?!”
“Should I…?”
Searching her memory, she tried to remember if someone on their friend group was celebrating a birthday or something. But her mind came up empty.
She looked at Kara at a loss, and the blonde gasped in shock.
“It’s Valentine’s Day!” Kara exclaimed as if it was a sacrilege to forget such a day.
“Oh…” Very eloquent on her part, but Lena just didn’t know what to say.
She remembered the last year’s Valentine’s day.
Diana had prepared the day with anticipation, and Lena was a little surprise at her lover’s enthusiasm. But the amazon told her about Eros -also known as cupid- and how the day reminded her of the Greek God, son of Aphrodite. It made her remember her mother’s stories about the gods when Diana was just a child.
Lena had listened to everything the amazon wanted to share with a smile on her face.
The Luthor had been happy by just spending the day with Diana, but the demigoddess had made sure to make it a day to remember…
And now, they would spend the day apart. They had talked about it a few days ago, but their schedules were too hectic, and neither Lena could fly to Paris, nor Diana to National City.
And the Luthor really didn’t want to think about that.
“I have a lot of work to catch up on, so I’ll be really busy that day…” She said, a grim look on her face.
“No way, you can’t spend Valentine’s alone.” Kara protested. “You can come to my place; we were planning on throwing a party with everyone.” The blonde said excitedly.
“Look Kara, I appreciate the offer but…”
‘But I rather focus on work instead of thinking about my girlfriend across the world.’
“Come on Lena, it’s friendship day.” Kara whined with a pout on her face
“Kara…” Lena tried again, but the pout only increased, and she felt like kicking a puppy in the rain. “Fine. But after I finish working.” She said with a resigned sigh, knowing she’d regret it later.
“Yay! You’re the best!” The reporter exclaimed while launching herself at the Luthor, and almost asphyxiating her with the bear hug.
.
Tuesday came sooner than she could expect.
She woke up like usual, checking her phone and the ever-present text from Diana.
‘Good morning, love.
I hope you have a wonderful day.
Yours, Diana.’
Lena smiled like a school girl in love, and wrote back a message. Although a little frown appeared on her face. Diana hadn’t mentioned anything about Valentine’s Day.
But she decided to ignore it, maybe Diana didn’t want to be reminded they were continents apart either.
.
After a couple of hours of work in the morning, her assistant knocked on the door and stepped inside her office.
“Do you need something, Jess?” She asked with curiosity, barely giving her assistant a proper look.
“I have a delivery for you, Ms. Luthor.” Jess said with a smile on her face.
When Lena raised her head from the documents in her hands, she gasped at the beautiful bouquet in Jess’s arms.
Those were her favorite flowers, and there was only one person who knew of that.
In an instant she was out of the seat and approaching her assistant to take the bouquet in her own arms.
The Luthor smelled their fragrance and a content smile settled on her lips. Then she noticed a note gently buried in the middle of the bouquet.
Jess noticed the happy giddy look on her boss and decided to leave her to her privacy.
Lena didn’t even notice her leaving, and was quick to take the note from between the flowers.
‘My beautiful star,
How I wish I was by your side.
Your smiles make my heart beat faster
Your kisses make me feel like flying
And knowing your heart belongs to me brings me absolute joy.
My heart is yours completely, I love you.’
The Luthor felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, it still amazed her how happy a simple detail could make her heart flutter.
Lena let herself a moment to enjoy the fragrance of the flowers, and when her heart was content enough, she turned to press the button she used to call her assistant.
“Jess, could you please bring me a vase filled with clean water?”
“Right away, Ms. Luthor.”
.
Her work went a lot easier after Diana’s note, and her mood was completely improved from when she first arrived at her office.
Time went by without her noticing, her thoughts only on her beloved.
So when Kara came inside with lunch in her hands, Lena was startled to say the least.
“Sorry…” The blonde muttered with an apologetic smile.
“Don’t worry about it.” Lena was quick to wave away the apology, and her smile was once again on her lips.
Kara tilted her head slightly in contemplation, as if not fully understanding the good mood. But a smile of her own plastered on her face.
If Lena was happy, then she was happy too.
And while putting the dishes on the table, blue eyes zeroed on the flowers on Lena’s desk.
“Nice flowers.” She said and a little frown etched on her features. “I thought you hated Valentine’s day.”
Lena laughed with mirth and left her chair to join Kara on the couch.
“I never said I hated the day.”
Kara waited a few seconds for Lena to add something else, but the Luthor didn’t say anything else about that, and instead brought out another topic of conversation.
The rest of their lunch was spent with a confused human puppy and a overjoyed Luthor.
“So, uh, I’ll see you at the party?” Kara asked, fidgeting with her glasses, sensing there was a story behind Lena’s smile and those flowers on her desk.
“Sure…” The Luthor said absentmindedly while gently stroking some of the petals of the flowers.
Lena seemed to be immersed in her thoughts, so Kara decided to leave it be for now.
She could get answers later, she told herself.
.
After Kara left, the young Luthor went back to work.
There had been a few problems in the research department, and she was currently writing to several people on how to take action on the problems.
Once again, she let herself get immersed in her work, not giving the clock even a glance.
.
Lena was just finishing typing a few important e-mails, when the balcony door opened and a gust of wind entered the office
“I see you still get carried away with work.”
At hearing that voice, she felt her heart beating faster inside her ribcage, and her body was quick to turn around.
“Diana…you’re here…” Lena mumbled when her eyes settled on Diana wearing her Wonder Woman suit.
“I am.” The amazon said with an amused smile on her lips, seeing that the Luthor still could not believe her presence was real.
“Oh my god, you’re really here!”
When Lena realized the sight in front of her wasn’t made up by her mind, she was quick to jump out of her seat and go to the arms of her lover. Diana caught her and spinned with Lena in her arms, like those lovers in the movies they watched in Paris.
They laughed with happiness in the arms of the other, filled with joy at been together after months apart and only videocalls in between.
When they finally settled down, their eyes met and soon the distance between their faces started to disappear.
Their lips met in a kiss, and soon they lost themselves in it.
It had been too long apart.
.
The party was supposed to be at night, and Kara was still patrolling the city in her super suit.
But when the sun started to go down, the blonde knew it was time to go get everything ready.
Suddenly Lena came to her mind, and she just knew the Luthor would still be working, so the hero decided to go visit her friend and remind her of their plans.
With a smile on her face, she flew towards L-corp, but when she was near, her eyes opened wide in surprise.
Inside Lena’s office was none other than Wonder Woman, currently in a deep kiss with Lena Luthor.
Shocked by the view, Kara lost control of her ability to fly for a moment, and before she could do something, she crashed on the Luthor’s balcony.
There was dust everywhere, and a new Supergirl’s dent shaped on the balcony’s floor. When she looked up from her place on the floor, Kara noticed the couple had separated, but Diana was standing in front of Lena protectively.
“Supergirl…” The amazon acknowledged her fellow hero, but still not letting Lena out of her protection, which made Kara frown.
The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but her mind came up empty on what she could say. So, she was just sitting there with dust on her suit, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.
Lena cleared her throat and taking hold of Diana’s hand, she looked at her lover’s eyes to communicate that it was fine, she was not in danger. The amazon nodded her understanding and lowered her guard.
The Luthor then approached the fallen kryptonian.
“Are you okay?” She asked gently, and Kara finally seemed to snap out of her trance.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” The blonde then stood up and dusted off her clothes.
Silence once again settled in the place, and yet again Lena was the one to break it.
“Is there a reason you came crashing on my balcony?” The Luthor asked softly.
“Oh, sorry about that…” The reporter was quick to apologize with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.
Lena almost chuckled at the sight, because in front of her wasn’t Supergirl, but her dorky friend Kara.
“So?” The Luthor inquired again raising an eyebrow.
“Uh…yeah, I was just passing by and…” Kara was saying, but her eyes would dart from time to time to the amazon, who was currently serving herself a cup of water from Lena’s cabinet. “…and I…” the blonde had a crinkle between her eyes, clear confusion on her features, and once again Lena had to bite her lip to avoid laughing.
“And?” She tried to keep Kara focused.
“And uh…Kara Danvers asked me to remind you of the party…” The blonde finally said a full sentence with her gaze on the Luthor.
Lena’s smile dropped in an instant.
Kara was looking at her with a hopeful expression, and being honest, the Luthor had completely forgotten about said party. Even worse, she didn’t want to attend anymore. Diana was there with her, and Lena preferred her lover’s company than some party with people she was just getting to know.
“You’re going, right…?” The blonde hero asked tentatively.
Lena opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when Diana’s voice reached her ears.
“You can go if you want, my love.” The amazon said in Greek, and by Kara’s confused expression, she didn’t understand it.
“I rather be with you.”
“And I’d like that as well, but if you wish, we can go to that party together.” Diana said with tenderness in her voice. “We can do whatever you wish, my love.”
Lena nodded and turned around to face Kara again, who was darting her eyes from one woman to the other while they were talking.
“So…uh…?” The blonde hero was at a loss.
Lena pondered her options, but there wasn’t really much to ponder. She already knew what she wanted.
“I’m sorry, Supergirl…I don’t think I will be making it to the party.” The Luthor said with the softest apologetic voice she could muster. “Please give Kara my sincere apologies.”
“I-I see…” There was hurt in her eyes, but Kara was quick to regain her composure. “I’ll pass the message then. Have a good night, Ms. Luthor-” she turned to her colleague in being a hero. “Wonder Woman.” And acknowledged her as well before flying away.
Lena sighed, feeling a bit bad after seeing Kara’s expression, but she didn’t regret her decision.
“Did you like the flowers?” Diana asked with a soft smile on her lips.
“I loved them, thank you.” Lena replied with a happy smile, approaching her beloved to. “Now, where were we?” she muttered with a deeper voice and surrounding Diana’s neck with her arms.
The amazon smiled and kissed her again.
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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 5 years ago
Text
Misjudgment
Summary: can you do a losers club x reader where the losers save the reader from the bowers gang so they invite her to the losers club, except stan doesn’t trust her bc he’s stan. so then the reader confronts him abt it and then they become friends?
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Being the new kid in any new school is difficult a label designed and slapped on your forehead to follow you around and attrack attention because of it. Derry middle school was no exception, and in fact, to you knowledge, was even worse than any other school you had ever been too. Your parents switched jobs a lot, and with that came moving around heaps of times too, so being the new kid wasn’t a state-of-the art experience for you. 
It still sucked, walking into a school, your peers huddled together in group while you, the loner, picked at your fingernails to appear busy and to not get caught staring longingly as two friends giggled and talked about their crushes to one another.
The first time you spotted Bill, leader of the infamous loser club you would soon become a part of, was the same day you first witnessed Henry’s psychotic behavior, plundering Bill’s book bag and lighting it on fire mere inches away from the poor kids face. You had stomped over, snatching the bag out of Henry’s hands, the books were mostly destroyed and missing, and handed it back to the boy who scrambled up.
‘You better stay the fuck away from me you fucking hoer. You must either have a Deathwish or want to date B-b-billy,’ he mocked,’ enough that you don’t care who you piss of, and that mistake, can be deadly here in my town.’
Bill thanked you, asked for your name and invited you to join in on a birdwatching retreat him and his friend were going on, but you declined. The altercation left you rattled and spooked, and you didn’t know Bill or any of his friends, all strangers in a town of even more strangers, and went back home.
That decision had both negative and positive outcomes attached to it. Bowers awaited you along with his goons, emptying a slushie on your head and spitting in your face and hair, humiliating you to the best of their abilities. At one point, they tried to glue a freshly bought pad to your skirt, their tyranny halted as Bill and his followers threatened to call the police on them.
‘That’s what being brave will get you in this town’, Mike said, staring the bowers gang off as they .
‘Yeah, but luckily there’s strength in numbers.’
‘Yup, welcome to the losers club new kid. Ben, you’ve been kicked off the nickname ‘new kid’, I need to find you a new one.’ Richie pondered, tapping his fingers to his chin as he came up with a new nickname for Ben.
Persuading Richie into giving him a different derogatory name was enough for Ben to accept you with open arms in the group, as did almost everyone else, and you gained six new friends, a huge upgrade from the zero friends you had prior to them. The hospitality showed, and you were never forced to eat lunch or walk to class by yourself any longer.
The losers club consisted of seven people, but to your parents you vowed that there we’re only six friends you engaged with, because the seventh member, Stanley, was not your friend. At most, the two of you were acquaintances, people that hung out because of mutual friends.
He never liked you or made an effort to befriend you, his cold demeaner deterring and dynamite to your time dedicated to the losers. Not once did he address you personally, and if someone inquired a question and you would go to respond, Stanley would talk over you, like you were never there in the first place. The whole situation, that you had no inkling on how you ended up in the first place, put a damper on the blossoming friendship, and you often found yourself nail-biting tense, on the lookout for the day the other losers would be tired of the tense underlying issues themselves and kick you to the curb.  
This unease pushed you to confront Stanley about his behavior towards you, as you did not want to end up alone again, and you adored the friends you had made in the losers club too much to let go without a fight.
The opportunity to do this arose one day after school, when only Eddie and Richie, both lounging in the hammock, and Stanley and you are around in the clubhouse. You’re sketching in the a notebook, the one you and Bill share, to compare  various techniques and color schemes, and also because it’s fun and interesting to observe what someone else is crafting.
No one besides Bill and you know of its existence, but it’s not strictly a secret, it’s more of a - none of the others care so why tell them-? You’re seated in the stack of cushions, plumped up by Eddie, in order to protect ones ass against blisters, since that’s thing apparently, and Stanley is fully emerged in a book, as far away from you as the small, incepted space allows.
The drawing is coming along pretty well, the sketch portraying the clubhouse itself and it’s inhabitants, and you’re focusing on measuring the length between the hatchet and the far wall, when Stanley spots the book in your lap.
‘That’s Bill’s,’ he snidest, crossing the room in no time to protectively grab it and cage it in his arms.
‘I know that’, you secure, reaching for the book but too short to actually clasp it. ‘I borrow it from him.’
Stanley stares you down with a level headed look, ‘Oh, really?’ He says so sarcastically you urge to rip out his tongue and render him silent.
‘Yes really. What’s the problem with that Stanley?’
‘Stan the man, chill out’, Richie laughs on edge, squirming in his place as he and Eddie watch the situation unfold.
‘No fuck that. What the fuck did I do to get you to hate me so much?’
‘You know what you did.’
‘Enlighten me, fucking please Stanley.’  The hostility swarming around the two of you is palpable, and it’s containing to build to a crescendo neither are prepared for. His admission could potentially dissolve the undercover threat, a way for you to explain or fix the thing you display that Stanley contempt. But that can only be done if the thing gets pointed out, which so far, it hasn’t.  
‘You are conspiring with Bowers and Patrick, I am onto you.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Just admit it.’
‘Okay, I fucking admit I’m colluding with the same douchebags that tried to defoule me. You got me there Stanley’, you’re seething, rage vibrating in every pore. Richie and Eddie attempt to deflate the situations, but glares from Stanley and you dispirited their focus.
‘Stan, come on,’ Eddie pacifies, ‘why would she do that?’
‘Is it not it convenient that she just so happened to be at the same time and place as Bill is getting beat up? And that she gets attacked right after but somehow escaped any physical damage? Who knows what secrets she’s been tattling?’
‘Well I’m sorry, let me go to them and ask if they would be so kind to punch me in the face’, your voice got more and more hysterical with every word, and you bend down your knees making eye contact with Stanley as you mock him.
‘Stan Urine, This isn’t ‘The Soldier’, they’re no such thing as spies, although Miss K in a spy suit is the fantasy to have for all my wet dreams.’ Richie vulgar joke goes by unnoticed, you and Stan involved in a staring match. You’re the one that breaks eye contact, huffing as you slide on your heels and move to leave.
‘Fine, whatever, I pick up on when I’m not wanted.’
‘No wait. Y/N, don’t go.’  
‘Stan the man gets prickly around the time his period is due, chalk it up to that.’
‘Shut the fuck up Richie no I don’t.’
You force the handle up, resting it a bit above your head and pause, sighing. ‘I’m not conspiring with Bowers, I just wanted to make friends.’ The latch gravitates to the floor after you’ve climbed out, and with it a chapter of your life, now it’s back to being friendless.
Four steps away from the clubhouse, the latch opens again and out tumbles Stan, meticulously lifting himself up by the piece of hardwood that is unscathed with dirt from the ground, and sprints to catch up with you.
‘I am sorry’, he says, flabbergasting you. ‘I should have been more open and accepting, and not my judgmental, evil self. I am not myself if I haven’t eaten a snicker and I apologize,’ Stan rolls his eyes.
‘Those lines were fed to you by Richie’, you state matter of fact, a smile tugging up your lips in spite of your earlier mood set.
‘No they weren’t’, elevates from below ground, conforming your suspicions.
‘Okay, yeah partly. But I do need to apologize. Being so antagonistic was wrong and unnecessary. Can we start over?’
‘I mean, give me back my notes and we’ll make a deal out of it?’
‘Of course.’
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Text
Happiness Begins
Part 23
Chapter Summary: It turns out going home to Austin wasn’t all it cracked up to be. Elsewhere, Jensen has an interesting conversation with an old friend. 
Warnings: Language, angst, dealing with mental health issues
Word Count: 3.2K+
Author’s Note: I just want to start here by reiterating that this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. I mean no harm to Danneel or her beautiful family, and I have a zero-tolerance policy on this blog. I see and legit forms of hate towards any wife and you are blocked. That being said, I hope you enjoy this part xoxo Alex
Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly. 
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Two months later…
When Y/n had stepped onto the tarmac in Austin, she had believed wholeheartedly that this could be a fresh start for her. Or at the very least, she hoped going back to her status quo would help to dull that empty feeling she now held in her chest. And it had worked, at first. Catching up on everything had been just the distraction she was looking for, but as time went on and the workload steadied off, it became harder for her to mask all the emotions.
It was something she had done numerous times before. A coping mechanism that as much as she knew how unhealthy it was, she always found herself reverting back to. This time was no different, and Y/n had found herself working herself into the ground. She was doing everything she could to make sure that work was all that could consume her thoughts, which turned out great in the end for Et Cetera. 
Last week, she had received an email from the conglomerate Coty, one of the world’s largest beauty brands, requesting a meeting with her and her lawyers. Obviously, she had been immediately interested, the butterflies in her stomach on full alert even after the meeting had ceased. 
 “Just… think about our offer. We don’t need an answer right away, we understand that this is a big decision for you. We hope to hear from you soon.” Mr. Baltussen, the CPO for Coty, slid her over a copy of his business card along with the legal documents that spelled out their offer. 
“Of course, thank you.” Y/n nodded her head as the small group of executives let themselves out of the conference room. As the door closed behind them, she snapped her head to her lawyer next to her, who already had her nose in the paperwork. 
“What do you think?”
“I think this all looks pretty legitimate. Y/n this is a more than generous offer.” Her lawyer’s eyes quickly scanned the words before flitting up to meet Y/n’s. 
“So you think I should accept it?”
“Honestly?” Y/n nodded, pleading for an honest answer. “Only you can make that decision, but this says to me that no matter what decision you make, you’ll be just fine.”
“Damn, I was hoping for a more definite answer.” She dropped her head into her folded arms on the table top.
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but I’m here for you no matter what.” 
 That conversation had been all that she thought about for the rest of the night and was the first thing on her mind when she had woken the next morning. Having the day off, since it was the weekend, meant she had more time to dwell on it. At first, she had been adamant about declining their offer, but the more she thought about it the more appealing it became. After all, her method of shoving everything down to avoid feeling was no longer working for her. Being in Austin, where he also lived, tended to grate on some of her nerves. She often found herself tense when out in public, which she fully understood how irrational it was, afraid that she would run into him somewhere. Her heart just wasn’t ready for that quite yet. Even with her and Jared talking again, things still hurt. He was family and she would never be able to get away from him, but Coty was offering her the ability to get about just as far away as she could from the mess she had created. 
Y/n had pulled her laundry from the drier as she went about doing her weekend chores. She plopped onto the couch with the basket in front of her and turned on the news for some background noise. The program was just finishing up as she paid no attention to it and its switch to Entertainment Tonight. She was just about finished with folding when the host’s words caught her attention. 
“Coming up next, Supernatural star Jensen Ackles and ex fiance Danneel Harris caught cozying up to each other for lunch in downtown LA.” Y/n snapped her head up to the tv and dropped the panties in her hand back into the basket at her feet. She searched blindly for the remote to turn up the tv as the program returned. 
“The two ex lovers were seen having what seemed like a friendly, and funny, lunch together. Could this be the start of a rekindling romance? Only time will tell as their reps declined for comment.” Images of the two flashed across the screen, paparazzi photos of the two of them, both had wide smiles on their faces as they sat next to each other on a patio table. A pair of sunglasses sat on both of their faces, but even she could see the small crinkles around his eyes from that beautiful smile on his face. 
Her heart sank into her stomach as she sat back on her couch and pulled her knees into her chest. All those emotions she had fought so hard to push down were now bubbling back up to the surface and threatening to explode out of her throat in a sob. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she fought the stinging in her nose. 
Deep down she knew she had no right to feel the way she was. After all, Jensen had ended things with her, and she certainly didn’t leave the door open for him to come running back in. But all she could think about was his promise to her, his promise that he was over the one woman that had the pleasure of wearing his ring on her finger. The images on her television now told her a different story, though, and that brought up every insecurity in her. 
What was it that Danneel had that she didn’t? There were the obvious physical differences that she wouldn’t even dare to delve into in her fragile state. But what else about her made her more desirable? Was she smarter, funnier, better in the bedroom…
Ugh! Y/n ran her hands through her hair, tugging gently at the roots. She was so far beyond over feeling like this. She was supposed to be better at handling herself when she got this way, but more so, she was supposed to be over comparing herself to other women. It had been so long since she had relapsed like this, and she had reached her breaking point. Y/n was not okay anymore, and she needed help. 
****
Y/n rifled through her living room, tossing pillows and cushions from her couch. She had been so sure that she had left her laptop on the coffee table when she went to bed last night. It was nowhere to be found. Not in her bedroom, living room, not even in her kitchen. 
“Damn it.” she growled to herself. There was no more time to look for it, she had to be at Jared and Gen’s soon, so she would just have to push back this search until later. Quickly she put her house back into a semi clean order and ran out the door. Luckily, her brother didn’t live too far from her and she was still on time when she pulled up in their drive. 
Three little bodies had the front door pulled open before she could even open her car door. “Aunt Y/n!” Odette was the first one out the door. Y/n knelt down in front of her niece, sweeping her up into her arms and squeezing her tight. It had been longer than usual since she had seen Jared and his kids, in person at least. Things were still… tense to say the least between them. They were still working on their issues… slowly. 
Y/n picked up the toddler and made her way inside, hugging the boys as she went. Gen was waiting just inside the door, offering her a tight hug as well. 
“We miss you around here, you know that?” Gen smiled as she let down Odette and the kids ran off to continue what they were doing before she had pulled up. 
“I know. We are getting there.” Y/n agreed, it really had been too long. She missed her family more than she had thought. They had been so close since forever, that she never understood what it was like to be at a distance from them. 
“Then come around more often, please?” Gen urged her sister in law to follow her into the kitchen. 
“Gen,” Y/n tried, casting her glance away from the woman who was pleading with her. That was the last thing she needed to hear right now. “I have some news.” 
“Should I grab Jared…” She started towards the stairs that lead to their second floor before Y/n moved to stop her. 
“No please, just listen.” Gen leaned against the island, giving Y/n her full attention. “I had a meeting on Friday with executives from Coty. They uh,” She chuckled, still in disbelief that this was even happening. “They want to buy my majority shares in Et Cetera.” 
“Wow, Y/n that is huge.” Genevieve’s word’s didn’t match the inflection in her voice or the crease that appeared between her brows. She was just as skeptical as Y/n had been when they first presented her the offer. 
“That’s not all. Coty offered me a VP position where I would be in charge of US operations. My lawyer said it’s a more than generous offer since I get a seven figure salary plus benefits and bonus’, not to mention the money from the sale of my shares.” Y/n played with the fruit in the bowl in front of her. 
“There’s more, isn't there?” The woman was too smart for her own good, Y/n thought to herself. Of course Gen picked up on that fact that she was holding something back. 
“I would need to relocate to New York.” Her face scrunched up as she prepared for some sort of outrage or surprise from Gen, but nothing came. Her next words were softer than she deserved.
“Do you want to accept the offer?” 
“I didn’t, at first.” Y/n admitted. That was the easy part, admitting to what had changed her mind on the other hand would be a lot more difficult, because she didn’t even want to admit it to herself. “But I don’t know now. It feels like everyone around me is moving on with their lives while I’m just stuck on some sort of endless corporate hamster wheel. I don’t feel the excitement for what I do anymore. Hell, I don’t feel anything anymore. Moving to New York could be just what I need.”
“And what about us? What about your family here in Texas.” 
“We have facetime. And I’ll always just be a plane ride away. I mean, it's not like I’m going to Yemen or something. We will have the holidays too.” The catch in her voice broke on her last sentence. She didn’t know who she was trying to convince more, herself or Gen. 
“Is this about Jensen?” Gen stood up straighter, her head cocking slightly as she spoke. 
Y/n huffed, what a stupid question. “Of course it is. He’s clearly moved on, our time together just a distant and horrible memory. Why shouldn’t I be afforded that same luxury?” 
“Come on, you don’t really believe that? Y/n, you have worked so hard for everything you have. And it is all yours, right here in Austin, where your family is too. Why throw all that away over some guy?” Gen’s hand found its way to Y/n’s shoulder, her fingers squeezing the flesh there to try and ground her. She hated seeing her making emotional decisions, especially ones that would affect not only her. 
“Jensen wasn’t just some guy, Gen. But I did lose him, and I’m trying my damndest here to move on, but I just haven’t found the ability to do so yet. That’s all I’m looking for.” Y/n cast her gaze down into her lap, where she was now picking at the cuticle on her thumb. 
“And all I’m saying is, don’t make this kind of decision without talking to the people around you. Get all the perspective you can, because I don’t think you are seeing this clearly right now.” 
“I hear you Gen, but I don’t know if I’ll change my mind again.” Gen nodded her understanding, only wishing she could get through to her sister in law somehow. She pulled her into her chest, hugging her again, because she didn’t know what else she could do. 
Neither of them noticed Jared standing on the landing of the stairs, catching every word his sister uttered. His heart sank as he listened to his sister talk. Never before had he heard the defeat in her voice. Y/n was one of the most strong willed people he knew, but she had just… given up. 
Before now, he hadn’t noticed how far she had fallen. But maybe that was because he wasn’t looking. The two of them didn’t talk like they used to, and right now he was feeling incredibly guilty about that. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Was it because all he could focus on was the steam coming out of his own ears when he found out she had been sleeping with his best friend? Or was it because as much as she chastised him for it, he still saw her as his baby sister and not the independent woman she had become. It was not like her at all to give up on something she had been working so hard towards. Y/n was not the type of woman to balk at money, and she certainly wouldn’t be the one to walk away from her family for any amount of it. 
Jared couldn’t see anymore why he had ever been so adamant that the two of them should not be together. Maybe it was because he knew too many of the intimate details of Jensen’s sex life to think about his sister in that way, or maybe it was even because he thought they wouldn’t be a good match. He could see it now though, having known both of them for so long. Jared shook his head at himself for not seeing truly how much those two were made for each other. He had only stood in their way when he should have been playing matchmaker. After all, didn’t he owe it to two of the most important people in his life to help them find their way to each other?
Jared vowed in that moment, he would fix this. He had to fix this. 
 Meanwhile, in Los Angeles...
The waiter set down their plates in front of them with a quick ‘enjoy’ before running off. Danneel bit into the salad placed in front of her, chewing delicalating as she decided on what to say. 
“You know, I have to say I was surprised you called me.” She thought back to his cryptic text that he had sent. ‘I’m in town and need to talk, can we get lunch?’ was all that it said. He had sent her the name of the cafe when she had agreed on meeting him. The two had exhausted the small talk in the time it took for their food to come and she wanted to get straight to the point. 
“I was too, to be honest. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think you may be one of the few people who can help me.” Jensen took a drink of his water, not looking in her direction. 
“Me? We haven’t exactly been pen pals all this time.” 
“I know, that means you have an outsider's view point on all of this. And you know me better than almost anyone, I trust your opinion.” Jensen stated. Danneel mouthed a ‘wow’ and sat back in her chair, wiping her face with her napkin. 
“This must be big then.” Danneel eyed the man sitting next to her, waiting for him to start with whatever it was he wanted to tell her. 
“God, where do I start, uh… I met this woman.” He began, his hand fiddling with the fork against his plate. 
“Mmmm.” Danneel hummed, the realization finally hitting her. 
“I… she is probably the best thing to ever happen to me. Actually, she’s a lot like you in some ways, brilliant, witty, and beyond beautiful. I fell for her, and I fell hard.” 
“So what is the problem exactly?” 
“I had to break things off with her. I thought what I was doing was best for her and me, but as time has gone on I’m not so sure. I can’t seem to get rid of this churning in my gut.” His tongue jetted out to wet his lower lip as he poured his heart out. This was not an easy thing for him to admit, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Danneel. 
“This girl wouldn’t happen to be Y/n Padalecki, would she?” A small smirk graced her features as Jensen snapped his gaze up to hers. 
“H...How?” 
“Well you weren’t exactly subtle when you ran after her at your birthday. Not to mention both of you were gone for too long and you returned with that little post coitus smirk you tend to get.” Danneel swirled her finger in a circle to emphasize her point. Jensen chuckled under his breath, his head shaking in disbelief. The noise grew in his chest before bubbling up into a full bellied laugh. Danneel couldn’t help but to join in, his laughter having that effect on people. 
“Would you believe that Jared asked me not to get involved with her?” Danneel nodded, she had known Jared for a while, and that did not surprise her at all. “We saw each other behind his back and when he found out, all hell broke loose. The two of them weren’t talking for two weeks.” 
“Oh, Jay…”
“Am I an idiot?” He asked her, his voice soft, as if afraid of her answer. 
“No, you are not an idiot. You’re in love, but you’re not an idiot.” Danneel held out her hand for him across the table. He took it and she squeezed his palm. “Listen, I know what it’s like to walk away from something because it is the best option for both of you, but I also believe that what’s meant to be, will be.”
“What are you saying?” 
“I’m saying if you truly love her and she loves you, you’ll find your way back to each other.” Danneel reiterated. 
“And what if we are too late?” Jensen tried. 
“Then don’t make yourself late. The least you can do is go to her and tell her how you feel. Then it’s in her hands.” 
“You make it sound so easy, Dee.” 
“Oh it’s not.” Danneel dropped his hand. “It’s downright terrifying. But do you want to live your life wondering what if?” Jensen shook his head. “Then go get her.”
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Part 24
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Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfic​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​ @superfanficnatural​ @malfoysqueen14​ @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​
Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @kalesrebellion​ @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ @vicmc624​ @supernatural3002​ @winchester-writes​ @maralisa124​ @therollingstoners​ @parinarain​
200 notes · View notes
avengemebuckyy · 5 years ago
Text
Be Careful
Summary: 
You tell Bucky to be careful with your heart. Too late he realizes you should have been careful with his.
or:
You’re awkward,odd, and not the most conventionally attractive yet you’re the only woman that Bucky sees
Warnings: manipulation 
Authors note: Back from the dead lmao. This is probably trash but I just needed to force myself to finish something it order to try to get back in the groove! Feedback is more than greatly appreciated, it’s what keeps me writing tbh...
PS. You ain’t shit in this lmao
---
You weren’t the most eye-catching. You didn’t look like the girls Bucky used to chase after in his younger years, or the girls on the internet he’d find himself staring at once he’d discovered Instagram, endlessly scrolling through picture after picture, lost in a sea of beautiful bodies and faces. You didn’t look like the tall slim blonde agent he’d always make a point to hold open the door for, or his neighbor’s daughter in Wakanda, who had had dark skin so smooth and a face so perfect he’d never managed to say more than two words to her.
You were slightly awkward, with a slightly odd sense of humor, always cracking jokes that sometimes no one laughed at but you. But you didn’t care, you would laugh at them all the same. You wore baggy clothes, and not the fashionable baggy kind either. Your favorite outfit was baggy camo print cargo pants and an old grey band t-shirt, logo so faded it was almost impossible to decipher.
At first Bucky didn’t pay you much attention. He wasn’t rude, but he treated you with the same gruff stoicism he treated everyone with. Well everyone besides Sam, Steve, and Natasha. Besides he only saw you rarely, you were a high level agent thanks to your skill, but you didn’t work closely with the team very often. Until you did.
One mission with Clint was all it took to have your name thrust forward when Fury was looking to fill a coordinator position. Suddenly you were everywhere. Coordinating their positions on missions, even going on missions with different members of the team. You fit in well with the team, your corny jokes and generally happy disposition make you easy to like. Your apartment was five minutes away, thanks to Tony, so you would often eat breakfast with the team and stay at the Tower well into the night, often crashing in a room designated for you, also thanks to Tony.
You were like a deceptively shallow river Bucky would think after. One minute he was wading through your shallows, next moment he was being taken under by your currents, realizing too late that he was in deeper than he thought possible.
It started slowly, you would make an effort to make conversation with Bucky, never seeming off put by his non answers. Bucky found himself coming to you with numerous questions on how to work social media, you would give such long winded explanations he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself with asking questions. Soon he found himself seeking you out for more than explanations. Funny thing is you were the one who introduced him to Instagram, to the  beautiful women on the app but eventually he found himself unable to see any woman but you.
Bucky found himself sitting with you at lunch, looking out the window in the mornings waiting to catch sight of your army green jacket. He’d sit with you in the afternoons as you did your paperwork, steal glances at you ,your forehead always shiny by midday with an almost ever-present patch of acne, eyebrows scrunched together as you filled out mission reports. He loved those quiet moments the most. Bucky wasn’t good with words, not anymore. But he would help carry the 10 pound boxes of paperwork, always bring an extra pen in case yours ran out of ink, and constantly would bring you your favorite Starbucks order. He secretly hoped that you would read the affection behind his actions.
You didn’t usually go to Stark’s parties, you’d rather go to bars and clubs with your friends.
“The crowd at Stark’s parties just aren’t my crowd,” you’d explained with a shrug, toeing the floor with your scuffed sneakers. Bucky had nodded in understanding. They usually weren’t his crowd either, but he’d always go to support Steve, who was pretty much expected to show face.
But for some reason you show up to this party. Four months into your blossoming friendship (and Bucky’s crush). Bucky wasn’t prepared for what you were wearing. When he heard the agents whispering about your unexpected appearance at the party he half expected to see you in jeans and a t- shirt. Or even your cargo pants. At the sound of your name Bucky zeros into the muttered conversation.
“Did you see her?”
“Yeah, damn.”
“Was not expecting that. Or her to even show up. Who knew?”
“She’s kinda hot, not gonna lie. In a weird way”
Bucky turns his head scanning the crowd, heart rate already picking up, fully expecting to see your sweat-pant clad form. He sees you alright. But not in sweatpants. A red dress barely covers your figure. Hemline way above the halfway mark of your thighs and twin slits in the skirt reaching up to your hips. A draping halter neck ties at your neck and completely exposes your back and gives a generous view of your tits. He catches flashes of the curve of your ass as you walk.
In hindsight the dress was totally in line with your character. You didn’t dress the way you did because you were ashamed of your body but rather because you didn’t give a fuck. Your hair is pinned up, one perfect curl escaping your updo and kissing your neck. Bucky feels his heart stop. He spies numerous heads turning as you languidly weave through the crowd in dangerously thin stilettos. You cozy up to one of your agent friends and the two of you drink, giggle, and dance. Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you.
When you head to the balcony he follows.
“Hey,” you say when you spy his shadow darkening the entrance to the balcony. 
“Hey,” he gruffs, in a tone he fears is too quiet. But looking at the curve of your exposed back suddenly has his voice dying in his throat. You turn back to looking at the city skyline. Bucky steps forward next to you. Close. Closer than he’s ever been to you, painfully aware of your arms brushing. He can’t fully feel your skin through the long sleeve button down he’s wearing but the touch sets him on fire all the same.
“Needed some air. “ He eventually grumbles. Trying not to stare at your profile. You look at him then, wearing a sly expression he had never seen on you.
“I’m sure you did,”
--
After that it doesn’t take long for Bucky to gather up the courage after that. Maybe it’s the way you had looked at him on the balcony or the way both male and female agents were sniffing around you at the party. All the same about a week later Bucky finds himself heading to your office in the afternoon as usual, but this time holding a bouquet of flowers.
Afterwards Bucky falls in love with you hard and fast. He finds himself doting on you, taking you out, bringing you flowers and other tokens of his affection. He hears the whispers, it’s almost impossible not to with his super soldier hearing.
“How’d she’d get him,”
“What an odd couple,”
“The Winter Soldier’s with cargo pants?”
But he still holds your hand in public all the same. Stops in the middle of training recruits to kiss you whenever you happen to cut across the gym all the same. Keeps a picture of you in his wallet all the same.
Bucky has never felt this amount of care and comfort from a person since...ever, even before, in his other life. You put his boots by the heater in the winter when he sleeps over so his feet won’t freeze when he walks to the compound. You listen to him, even when he’s angry, raging at nothing, or when he’s sad and sullen, taking minute long pauses in between sentences. Or even when he wants to do nothing but sit in silence and hold you. You especially listen when his words come fast, tinged with self hatred. You reassure him, holding him like he’s fine china. After many late night musings you give him with the best present he’s ever gotten, an impossibly soft kitten who’s uncharacteristically loud purr always grounds him. Bucky finds himself able to open up with you in a way he can’t with anyone else, even Steve. Bucky’s not good with words anymore, but with you he’s amazing. He can’t stop singing your praises, lavishing you with sweet words and adoration.
In hindsight it was a warning.
“Sweetheart, your wallet must be screamin’ for mercy, with you buying this cake nearly everyday,” Bucky says pinching off a piece of the lemon pound cake which is almost always at the corner of your desk. He recognizes the cake from a bakery across the street, and knows its nearly four dollars a slice. You stretch cracking your back, nipples poking through your shirt. Your ever present band shirt had breathed its last breath, and this new shirt is thinner and cropped, and hugs your body closer.
“Not really, I don’t buy it, Tommy hooks me up” you say, shooting him a smile and then returning back to your paperwork.
“Tommy?” Bucky says, and unbidden hot jealousy sears through his chest at the mention of your coworker “He’s always buying you these?”
“Yeah,” you answer, not looking up, and Bucky tells himself to remain calm, unbothered. 
He doesn’t.
Later after the subsequent fight and make up Bucky holds you as the two of you sit on his bed.
“I’m sorry,” He says again.
“It’s alright,” you say and somehow your simple words draw the truth out of him.
“I’m just...I- I’m afraid of losing you.”
“I’m afraid of losing you too,” you confess, then pause “Bucky, please be careful with me,”
Your relationship was easy, comforting. The two of you almost never fought, and never grew tired of being with each other. One blissful year turned into two and then five. It was like a dream and Bucky never wanted to wake up.
But reality eventually did.
How closely you guarded your phone should have tipped him off. How you’d constantly declined calls while the two of you were together. The way you almost always got ‘too drunk’ on girls night and would end up crashing at your friend’s place.
The first time it’s sixth months into your relationship on a lazy Saturday. The two of you had ordered pizza and planned to cuddle on the couch and have a movie marathon. You were in the bathroom when your phone had vibrated. Knowing that you would get a notification when the pizza arrived Bucky had looked at your phone. Bucky had felt surprised to see the name Dominos instead of an unsaved number pop up on your screen. Your phone didn’t show the preview of the text like his did. Your phone was still unlocked since you had headed to the bathroom but a few seconds ago, so Bucky tapped to open  the text.
Dominos: [Can’t wait to see you again, beautiful]
Bucky’s blood had run cold. He froze, only unfreezing when he realized you were standing next to him.
“We aren’t exclusive!” you had defended.
“What the hell do you mean?” Bucky had growled. At that your face had crumbled, eyes filling with tears.
“You never asked me to be your girl.” you had looked away “We never talked about what we are,”
“Whaddya think we’ve been doing these past months?!” Bucky had yelled back,
“ I don't know. I don’t assume Bucky. Because guys always seem to want to date me, treat me like their girlfriend and then turn around and throw it in my face that they never said I was.” your voice breaks and so does Bucky's anger.  He hadn’t been very verbal with you so far. It’s true he never asked you to be his girl, or even verbally on a date. He just thought you both knew. Guilt fills him at the sight of your tear stained face.
“I’m sorry I was just preparing for the inevitable,” you say and turn away. Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.
“Well, let me make it clear. I want you to be my girl. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”
Your expression is unfathomable as you wind your arms around his neck.
“I am yours.”
That night you stand in front of Bucky and  wordlessly slip out of your sweatpants and t shirt, rendering him speechless. With reverence Bucky’s hands trace your frame and his mouth follows. That night he worships you.
Later, you wrap your arms around him and whisper 
“I love you,”
 And Bucky knows that he’s done for.
“I love you too sweetheart.” he says, and later still when you’ve fallen asleep Bucky lies awake, stroking the soft contours of your back. He’s done for. And he knows it.
“I’ll be careful,” he whispers.
--
Reality had tried to wake Bucky gently. Through warning signs that should have been loud and clear especially to an ex assassin. But Bucky had accepted your half baked truths and excuses. He was too far gone off of the drug that was your love to heed the warning signs until reality slapped him- no choked him, awake.
His awakening came in the form of the sight of you on your kitchen counter, a man kneeling in between your spread thighs. The flowers he had bought you on his way back from his mission that had ended early drop to the floor. Bucky freezes. But at the sight of Tommy’s face, cheeks slick with you he loses it. Next thing he realizes that he has his hands around your coworkers throat. But your hand on his shoulder drains the fight out of him, and as Tommy scrambles out of the apartment Bucky crumples to the floor and sobs. 
“Why?” He asks and he realizes he’s not just asking about now, but about all the times he’s caught you cheating but didn’t have the strength to leave you. 
“Baby” you say and gather him into your arms. He wants to pull away, thrash, yell, but he doesn’t. He just melts into your touch. You make him weak. And at night when he thinks about your excuses and half truths he hates himself for it.
“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he says, sobs wracking his frame “Five years-did they mean nothing to you?”
“I’m sorry,” you say “I love you,” 
At this Bucky pulls away, standing. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” he hisses.
“I’m not,” you say standing “I might lie all the time but I’m not lying about this.” your eyes go soft at the corners, and start to water.
“No. I love you. I adore you. I’d give you anything-everything and you treat me like shit” Bucky spits, there’s a pain in his chest, his heart is breaking “And I just fucking take it, because you make me so fucking weak- and I hate it” another sob ribs from his chest. A part of him thinks  that this is his punishment. For all of the terrible things he’s done. Cursed to be in love with someone who will never truly love him back. He looks at you, your hair is in disarray, baggy t shirt, those fucking cargo pants around your ankles. He gives a bitter laugh “Who woulda thought that you would’ve been the one to make me weak.”
“Why? Because I’m not pretty?” hurt flashes across your face then your eyes go hard. Usually Bucky would have been quick to refute any self deprecating words, reassuring you how beautiful he found you, how gorgeous you were. But now he just lifts his chin and looks back at you with the same hard eyes.
“Well I know I’m not pretty.” you shrug, face going strangely expressionless “But you still fell for me all the same. More fool you.” you say, and after a moment continue. “We should break up.”
At this Bucky shatters. Because he knows deep down that even after all of this he still would have taken you back. He still wants to grovel at your feet and plead to try to fix your relationship. But instead he decides to finally choose himself and turns and walks out of the door and out of your life.
Year later he still finds himself looking at your picture in his wallet, the one remnant  of you he has left, that he can’t bear to get rid of. On lonely nights where he can’t sleep and can’t stand the coldness of his bed  he’ll trace the curve of your smile and wish that you had cared enough to have been careful with him.
Tags:@stephie-senpai@ayeputita@pixierox101@iamwarrenspeace@ dreamgirljere  @ufffg@pietrotheavenger @trinityjadec@abbytagg@wastedsummerss@turdblossommm@jimmyisfab@sev7en@hottrashformarvel @superbuckytrash@waidewilson@abbytagg @awkwardfangirl2014 @desir-ae
Bucky only @chamongangae@callmebucky-doll
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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 years ago
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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
January 18, 2021
Heather Cox Richardson
The Trump administration is winding down as Joe Biden and Kamala Harris prepare to take office on Wednesday.
Trump will leave office with an approval rating of 34%, dismal by any measure. He is the first president since Gallup began polling never to break 50% approval. After the attack on the Capitol on January 6, the House of Representatives impeached him for a second time, and a majority of Americans think he should have been removed from office.
In the last days of his term, the area of Washington, D.C., around our government buildings has been locked down to guard against further terrorism. Our tradition of a peaceful transition of power, established in 1800, has been broken. There is a 7-foot black fence around the Capitol and 15,000 National Guard soldiers on duty in a bitterly cold Washington January. There are checkpoints and road closures near the center of the city, and 10,000 more troops are authorized if necessary. Another 4,000 are on duty in their states, protecting key buildings and infrastructure sites.
In the past two days, there have been more indications that members of the Trump administration were behind the January 6 coup attempt. Yesterday, Richard Lardner and Michelle R. Smith of the Associated Press broke the story that, far from being a grassroots rally, the event of January 6 that led to the storming of the Capitol was organized and staffed by members of Trump’s presidential campaign team. These staffers have since tried to distance themselves from it, deleting their social media accounts and refusing to answer questions from reporters.
A number of the arrested insurrectionists have claimed that they were storming the Capitol because the president told them to. According to lawyers Teri Kanefield and Mark Reichel, writing in the Washington Post, this is known as the “public authority” defense, meaning that if someone in authority tells you it’s okay to break a law, that advice is a defense when you are arrested. It doesn’t mean you won’t be punished, but it is a defense. It also means that the person offering you that instruction is more likely to be prosecuted.
The second impeachment, popular outcry, and continuing stories about the likely involvement of administration figures in the coup attempt seem to have trimmed Trump’s wings in his last days in office. He is issuing orders that Biden vows to overturn, and contemplating pardons (stories say those around him are selling access to him to advocate for those pardons), but otherwise today was quiet.
He has tried to install a loyalist as the top lawyer at the National Security Agency, either to burrow him in or to get the green light for dumping NSA documents before he leaves office; Biden’s team will fight what is clearly an attempt to politicize the position. Tonight, Census Director Steven Dillingham resigned after whistleblowers alleged that he and other political appointees were putting pressure on department staffers to issue a hasty and unresearched report on undocumented immigrants.
According to news reports, Trump is planning to leave Washington on the morning of January 20 and should be at his Florida club Mar-a-Lago by the time Biden and Harris are sworn in. The last president to miss a successor’s inauguration was Andrew Johnson, who in 1869 refused to attend Ulysses S. Grant’s swearing-in, and instead spent the morning signing last-minute bills to put in place before Grant took office.
There is a lot of chatter tonight about the release today of the 1776 Report guidelines on American history. This is the administration’s reply to the 1619 Project from the New York Times, which focused on America’s history of racism. As historian Torsten Kathke noted on Twitter, none of the people involved in compiling today’s 41-page document are actually historians. They are political scientists and Republican operatives who have produced a full-throated attack on progressives in American history as well as a whitewashed celebration of the U.S.A. Made up of astonishingly bad history, this document will not stand as anything other than an artifact of Trump’s hatred of today’s progressives and his desperate attempt to wrench American history into the mythology he and his supporters promote so fervently.
But aside from the bad history, the report is a fascinating window into the mindset of this administration and its supporters. In it, the United States of America has been pretty gosh darned wonderful since the beginning, and has remained curiously static. “[T]he American people have ever pursued freedom and justice,” it reads, and while “neither America nor any other nation has perfectly lived up to the universal truths of equality, liberty, justice, and government by consent,” “no nation… has strived harder, or done more, to achieve them.”
America seems to have sprung up in 1776 in a form that was fine and finished. But, according to the document’s authors, trouble began in the 1890s, when “progressives” demanded that the Constitution “should constantly evolve to secure evolving rights.” It was at that moment the teaching of history took a dark turn.
The view that America was born whole, has stayed the same, and is simply a prize worth possessing reminds me of so much of the world of Trump and the people around him, characterized by acquisition: buildings, planes, yachts, clothing, bank accounts. Trump and his people seem to see the world as a zero-sum game in which the winners have the most stuff, and America is just one more thing to possess.
But there is a big difference in this world between having and doing.
America has never fully embodied equality, liberty, and justice. What it has always had was a dream of justice and equality before the law. The 1776 Report authors are right to note that was an astonishing dream in 1776, and it made this country a beacon of radical hope. It was enough to inspire people from all walks of life to try to make that dream a reality. They didn’t have an ideal America; they worked to make one.
The hard work of doing is rarely the stuff of heroic biographies of leading men. It is the story of ordinary Americans who were finally pushed far enough that they put themselves on the line for this nation’s principles.
It is the story, for example, of abolitionist newspaperman Elijah P. Lovejoy, murdered by a pro-slavery mob in 1837, and the U.S. soldiers who twenty-four years later fought to protect the government against a pro-slavery insurrection designed to destroy it. It is the story of Lakota leader Red Cloud, who negotiated with hostile government leaders on behalf of his people, and of his contemporary Booker T. Washington, who tried to find a way for Black people to rise in the heart of the South in a time of widespread lynching. It is the story of Nebraska politician William Jennings Bryan, who gave voice to suffering farmers and workers in the 1890s, and of Frances Perkins, who carried his ideas forward as FDR’s Secretary of Labor and brought us Social Security. It is the story of the American G.I.s, from all races, ethnicities, genders, and walks of life who fought in WWII. It is the story of labor organizer Dolores Huerta, co-founder of the National Farmworkers Association, and Fannie Lou Hamer, who faced down men bent on murdering her and became an advocate for Black voting. It is the story of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, who 60 years ago this week warned us against the “military-industrial complex.”
And it is, of course, the story of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose life we celebrate today. King challenged white politicians to take on poverty as well as racism to make the promise of America come true for all of us. “Some forty million of our brothers and sisters are poverty stricken, unable to gain the basic necessities of life,” he reminded white leaders in May 1967. “And so often we allow them to become invisible because our society’s so affluent that we don’t see the poor. Some of them are Mexican Americans. Some of them are Indians. Some are Puerto Ricans. Some are Appalachian whites. The vast majority are Negroes in proportion to their size in the population…. Now there is nothing new about poverty. It’s been with us for years and centuries. What is new at this point though, is that we now have the resources, we now have the skills, we now have the techniques to get rid of poverty. And the question is whether our nation has the will….” Just eleven months later, a white supremacist murdered Dr. King.
These people did not have a perfect nation, they worked to build one. They embraced America so fully they tried to bring its principles to life, sometimes at the cost of their own. Rather than simply trying to own America, the doers put skin in the game.
Today, the Trump administration issued the 1776 Report that presented the United States of America as a prize to be possessed. And yet, the country is demonstrably still in the process of being created: tonight, there are 15,000 soldiers in the cold in Washington, D.C., defending the seat of our government against insurgents.
—-
LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
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fandom-collective-writers · 5 years ago
Text
Nexilis (Edgar Bright x Reader)
nexilis (adj): woven together or intertwined
→ pairing | edgar x unnamed female reader (alice)
→ genre |  angst + fluff
→ word count | 2,664
→ written by | @dangerousfe-l
→ requested by | anon
→ prompts | “you look like you could use a hug.” + “who hurt you?”
→ note | i might write edgar a lot, but at least i have good taste. and i live by that. (also, i recommend listening to ‘i found’ by amber run while reading this~)
It was a normal day, as long as you ignore the fact that it wasn’t.
It began with him slipping out of his bed hours earlier than usual, careful not to wake the princess sleeping oh so peacefully beside him. She, rightfully, had little idea of the things he was orchestrating in the shadows, and looking back on her still features contorted by sleep, he couldn’t help but be glad. It was in his best interest to keep his pure lover separate from the things that continued to dirty his hands further.
His groggy eyes trailed down to his hands, lit up by the moonlight shining through the dull panes over his bed. To the naked eye, they were merely calloused by years of handling a sword, but to his more knowing ones, the phantom stains of old blood never disappeared. He reached over to the bedside table and pulled on the dove white gloves he was never seen without and felt himself physically relax as the soft fabric slid over his knuckles.
He had always felt safer with them on. Vulnerability is a deadly concept when faced with the crimes of a guilty man, after all.
Edgar’s vision adjusted routinely to the bright lights of the red army headquarter’s hallway as he eased the door shut behind him, the quiet sound signifying the start of his hellish day.
Later in the morning, she gradually awoke to the sounds of robins chirping from just outside her window. It was as if the very sunlight itself that illuminated the surrounding room was straight out of a fairy tale. But, there was one thing missing that subdued her into leaving the thought behind.
The moment she grasped a fist full of strategically tucked sheets in the place beside her, she sighed.
It wasn’t necessarily odd for Edgar to leave before she would wake and get home past the time she could stay up, but every time he did, it left a blank space in both her day and the explanation she tried to give herself in her head. Even after she’d been with him for months, she could never provide more than a simple excuse.
Yet, seeing as he quite literally closed up whenever she thought to ask, she decided not to push him further some time ago.
Then something changed. Something within the day, the hours, the seconds — that greatly twisted the course of events that would soon come to be. Because finally, Edgar’s concentration began to slip.
She made an effort to drive him far away from her thoughts through the slow morning, not letting the absence of the man beside her adhere her concentration. Whether he was there or not, the day still went on. She might’ve been the only person who needed to be reminded of it, but her purpose was nonetheless important.
Thankfully, she still had her friends to distract her. The little threesome of Alice, the ace of hearts, and the red army doctor gathered by chance in the hallway a ways after noon, and it seemed as if Kyle was practically teeming with new information from the moment they did so.
“So ___,” Kyle started off the conversation with a small but jovial smile, immediately setting off warning bells in her head. “Do you know what Edgar’s up to today?”
She couldn’t help but stay silent, turning the question over in her head. What he’s up to?
“Don’t ask her things like that, Kyle. If you want to know where Edgar is so bad, then go and find him yourself.” Zero said.
She shot him a grateful look.
Kyle didn’t notice the exchange, though, just shrugging. “You know that I couldn’t find him even if I tried. The guy’s too good at everything to be caught.”
“...I really have no idea where he is today, sorry.” she admits sheepishly, her eyes darting away under the two men’s gazes. “But he does this occasionally, so it’s not the biggest deal, right?”
Zero smiled gently at her.
“Edgar really got lucky with you. You’re so supportive.”
“A bit too much”
Kyle added this in a quiet mumble, but Zero shut him down with an elbow to the ribs quicker than she could reply.  
“Don’t say that.” He chatsied the younger with a click of his tongue. “She has every reason to believe in Edgar.”
“You just can’t ever be sure of what he’s doing, is all I’m saying.” Kyle croaked, his voice a mix of light pain and a hangover, flinching when Zero feigned hitting him again.
She couldn’t help but sigh as they bickered amongst themselves, crossing her arms over her body in an attempt to ward off the worries in her head. Kyle was right, not unlike usual, about Edgar being hard to find on days where he disappears. But, was he right that she supported him too much? She had no reason to think that he’s acting odd.
Do I? Her lips twisted in thought.
The boys didn’t notice her forlorn look as she excused herself, consumed in proving each other wrong in whatever point they’d since moved onto.
It’s just a coincidence. She tried to convince herself this as she made her way back to the kitchens, preparing to push her lover’s dealings from her head once again. Kyle just had bad timing. What the Red Army decided to send him out for, that was his own business -- not hers.
Yet, she still found herself frowning over the warm apple pithiviers she had helped the chefs prepare, the warm steam not the only thing contributing to her uncomfortable mood. To think all of her worry was from a hungover doctor’s blabbering. It was laughable, but the anxious feeling she felt in the pit of her stomach was from something her friend had said, rather than his stereotype. And she had no reason to doubt her friend.
But she didn’t think she had any reason to doubt Edgar, either.
She groaned softly, squeezing her eyes shut until one of the chefs still mingling around noticed. And only until then would she allow herself to dwell on the topic that was hurting her so much: she promised herself that.
And, well, that went about as well as expected. It wasn’t even her own fault -- at least, she didn’t think it was. Soldiers had just chosen then to become talkative about the discrepancies considering her lover that day, which only further fueled her anxiety until it peaked when the sun dipped below the horizon.
It was a beautifully clear night, the light of the moon and stars reaching Edgar’s bedroom even when shut out by the thick curtains. It bathed the room in an effervescent hue, giving it an almost celestial aura. It did little to calm the unapologetic beating in her chest, but looking up at the black sky through the delicate window panes, her thoughts were momentarily subdued.
Though, the door opening startled her out of her short-lived peace, making her jump slightly in the spot she sat on the bed. She almost began to yell at the person for not bothering to knock, but was stopped in her tracks when she noticed who stood in the doorway. Edgar winced as her eyes met the dried blood running up his normally pearl white uniform, and widened upon noticing the slash through his skin that came along with it.
He silently cursed himself for mindlessly assuming she would be out, and not bothering to wash up before coming inside.
“___,” He mumbled, not looking her in the eyes as he schooled his expression. “...I thought you would still be working.”
Edgar spoke shamelessly, as if not to startle her, but to still convince her that everything was okay.
But his Alice -- she had never been easily fooled.
She stood with a frown, taking hesitant steps over to where he still stood in front of the closed door. “Edgar, what happened to your arm?”
His eyes travelled down to the arm she specified, swallowing what felt like the equivalent of razors as he forced out, “It was just an accident, don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt very much.”
Not much to his surprise, but still to his dismay, she took his arm gently in her hands and inspected the gash beneath the bloodied fabric. He resisted sucking in a breath. Upon closer look, there was no other passable excuses: it was a wound from a sword, and that much would be obvious to anyone.
Without looking up at him, her lips thinned and he expected the worst. But instead, he heard small words escape her lips that had his heart dropping into his stomach, ridden with guilt.
“Who hurt you?”
He stared down at her with wavering eyes.
“No one, ___.” Edgar reached down and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. As if it would make up for all of his lies. “It’s alright.”
“But… it doesn’t look fine. Maybe we should go to Kyle just in case.”
The idea genuinely wasn’t bad on her part. Except, by that time, it was almost expected that the doctor would have a couple of drinks in him, making him a lousy information holder. Edgar didn’t think he wanted to risk a slip in the conversation, so he shook his head.
“I stopped there before I came here.” He lied with a crafted sad smile. “He was out, probably in town.”
Her adorable mouth twisted in thought, but she still nodded after a few moments. She didn’t want to admit it to him, but it made more sense than she wanted to give him credit for.
“Then I’ll fix you up myself.”
Edgar reached out to her a moment too late, just grasping the fabric of her shirt beneath his fingers before she slipped away. She took long steps to the other side of the room that he couldn’t follow, where a small cabinet stood sturdy and majorly unused, and pulled out a small medical kit that was kept for emergencies.
He wordlessly peeled off his jacket and sat down on the bed as she rummaged through its contents. But on the inside, he was scrambling for something, anything, to explain what was going on. He bought time for his thoughts with her back turned to him, and bit down on his lip in a small effort to get out the nerves that had accumulated in his chest.
But before he could fully recuperate, she turned around, medical supplies in hand. Her expression was uncharacteristically solemn, as if the thoughts that were whirring through her head were rapid yet still abridged. He couldn’t find it in himself to react, though.
She had every right to be feeling whatever she was right then, whether it was anger or something in between, it was only courtesy to let her have it. He didn’t want to deny her anything else ever again.
“You know,” She began in a soft voice as she wiped her hands down with a bacterial cloth, making him wince for the pain that was about to come. “I was worried about you today. I heard some things, and I couldn’t help it.”
But..? He waited.
Her lips twisted as she met his eyes with a small smile. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry, did I?”
Edgar didn’t dare react. So, she continued, taking a different cloth and motioning for his arm. He gave it to her quietly.
“People told me I was naive for believing in you, but I will until you give me reason not to.” Her expression was the same soft one he’d grown used to, but there was an intense edge to it that kept his eyes anchored to her.
“And I haven’t already?” He spoke without thinking, but didn’t regret it upon seeing the small smile that quirked her lips.
“No.” She took the now dirtied cloth and put it casually aside, but his eyes finally left her and followed it. It was much dirtier than he would’ve expected, the cloth that was white just minutes ago now the terrible colour of blood and dirt. “You haven’t.”
“How have I not?” He asked, his brows pinched. “I told you from the start, ___. I’m not the person you think I am.”
Her head whipped up for her gaze to meet his head on. Her eyes were narrowed, and she looked almost angry at his profession.
“The person I think you are is unique to me,” She said, a small irritated hiss lining her voice. “You can’t tell me, no matter what you’ve done, to change my perception of you.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t--”
“That doesn’t mean I should!”
They stared at each other for a few moments, their eyes intense and breaths suspended. It was as if the world itself had stopped in their wake, waiting for no one to catch up. But, she chose to break it first, her gaze retreating to the kit behind her.
“You’re hurt, and that’s my concern right now.” She grumbled quietly, reaching for a small jar of medical salve. “So kindly wait to preach about how bad of a man you are until I’m finished.”
He was stunned, and it must have shown, because there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes that he could never miss.
She worked in silence for the next few passing minutes, the only sounds in the room their breathing and the occasional estranged tap on the bedroom window. It felt like years to his anxiously beating heart, but he didn’t dare speak to disturb the quietness he knew that she loved.
When his wound was finally clean and bandaged, he allowed himself to look at her once again. But, he hadn’t been expecting the awful turn of her quivering lip, nor the tears hanging at the edge of her vision as she struggled to hide them.
“Woah,” He couldn’t help the sound that escaped him, as panicked and confused as the look adorning his features. “Are you okay?”
She refused to look at him as she put away the materials she’d used in the bandage that wrapped skillfully around his arm, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight way her hands shook as she did so.
“___…” He trailed off, reaching out his good arm to plant his hand lightly on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
She mumbled a few indiscernible words before reaching up to wipe her tears with the back of her hand. Then, taking the small medical kit by the handle, she started to get up in an attempt to put it back. He was faster than that, though, reaching for her arm and pulling her back down to where she sat that time without any repercussions.
“Ed--”
The moment her head instinctively turned to him, it ripped an involuntary breath from him. Her eyes were full of tears even after she’d taken measures to get rid of them, and her cheeks were puffy and tinted with red. She looked beautifully sad, and he firmly believed that she was the only person who ever could.
“___…” He trailed off, at a momentary loss for words. “You look like you could use a hug,”
Her lips pursed ever so slightly as she looked away, slightly embarrassed at the albeit serious offer.
“You can’t hug me,” She mumbled, a blush darkening her cheeks further. “Not with your arm.”
He opened his arms to her anyway. And even if every nerve in her body was screaming for her not to, she met him there head on.
He hugged her tightly despite his arm, and despite the pain, only did so tighter. After what felt like a decade of stress smashed into one night, he felt comforted to know that no matter where he chose to run, there would always be someone waiting for him when he made his way home.
In her, there was something special that saw that reflected in him.
And desperately, he sought to hold onto everything that she gave him.
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haiky-u-lously · 5 years ago
Text
King Kuroo and the Red Knights (4)
Summary:
A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.
Themes:
Action, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance
Warnings:
Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Gore and fighting
Word Count:
For Chapter: ~5600words            
Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always.
This week you get 2 chapter updates! As a thank you to the first comment I recieved here on Tumblr and on AO3! Thank you for reading!
Enjoy!
–Admin Red
Chapter 4: First Impressions
In your traveling companion’s suit of armor, sat upon your horse’s back, Suga and you approach the castle within Camelot’s bounds. Halting just steps away from the stairs up to the main entrance.
“You know your role from here on.” Suga whispered as he dismounted.
Nodding once to indicate you both heard and understood him, you followed suit and dismounted as well. 
Your pair stood, waiting to see how the residents of the kingdom would react to your arrival. Suga held Mapo’s reins and indicated he would take Tofu’s as well. Handing them over, you took a short walk around the open square, eyeing all the open crevices and possible attack points, making note of them should things happen to go wrong during your stay.
A sound reaches your ears and you face the direction your friend and horses were still standing. Trying to focus your vision, you squinted past their figures and caught the glimpse of  a reflection from the setting sun on metal, though from the current distance you couldn’t tell if the reflection was from a weapon or something else. Deciding to be safe, you made your way back to Suga, waving as you did so.
Having donned the Red Knight’s armour, you knew better than to speak. It was one of the first rules of being a proper Knight, ‘Do not speak when wearing your gear, Y/N. You generally know how to hold your tongue, especially when it’s necessary, but this is a rule all of us follow to make sure our anonymity stays intact.’ You recalled Suga’s squad leader’s teachings from the times he’d allowed you to train with them.
Suga noticed your quick gestures and tightened his hold on the horse’s reins. Glancing around him as inconspicuously as he could while waiting for you to return to his side.
“How many?” He asked promptly when you reached for Tofu, a ploy of stroking his mane to cover the act of regrouping with your companion. You held up a fist to indicate how unsure you were. “Difficult,” He whispered back.
Suga was trained as a proper Red Knight, and though you were never given the title, so were you. If anyone dared to attack you, your pair would be ready. 
This time Suga didn’t miss the reflected light and he recognized the size of the weapon. He looked at you and smiled, speaking tightly through his facade of a grin, “Long swords, it’s probably an ambush. At least 2, more likely there are more.”
You smiled, and despite your face hiding behind the mask of the armour, you could tell that your friend knew what expression you wore. 
“Don’t be reckless before we even make an introduction.” He chastised, though you both knew it was procedural and not intended to hold any real effect.
You walked towards the edge of the square, headed towards a hand pump situated closer to where the reflections were coming from, but obvious enough that any would be attacker would confuse the approach.
Pushing upon the force rod a few times so the water would be released, you acted to be off guard, inviting the attackers to utilize a moment of weakness.
To your joy, the ploy worked and suddenly there was a long sword pushed against the chest of your armour just under where your helmet ended.
“Be a good knight there and don’t move.” The voice warned, a cackle escaping him as he added, “Unless you want your friend back there to die a most gruesome death.”
You made a small attempt to glance towards Suga and the horses, but the sword  was swung to sit sideways. The sharp edge now jutting just under your helmet. Accommodating your attacker, you stood up instead of trying to look back. 
Now you could see the male clearly.
He laughed again, his near blue-toned skin darkening in the crease of his brow and his hair flipping back and forth as he jutted his head in his hysterics. “And here I thought the great Red Knights were something to be cautious of. You were taken so easily!” His annoying voice continued to ring out, but you let him continue to think he held the upper hand. Wanting to get a proper look at Suga’s situation before making a move. “Because I am so kind, I’ll let you watch as we cut your friend down to size.” He hissed, still all smiles as he whipped your body around and forced you to your knees as you faced your friend from across the square once more.
Suga’s eyes were glued to you, his lips pressed thinly together. You tracked his eye’s movements as they showed you the three attackers hiding behind Mapo, the two holding short swords to his figure, and the four trying to keep Tofu from bucking any of them.
Ten. Ten people. They thought ten was enough to subdue them? You wanted to laugh at their miscalculation. But you had the rule to consider.
To everyone’s surprise a loud bell rang across the castle grounds.
So surprising in fact, that one of the men holding a sword to your friend sliced the metal across his bare arm. Suga wailed out in pain and you knew there had to be more than just metal that scratched him. Eyes locked on his figure as he fell to his knees still crying out in pain despite the other attacker trying to keep him standing up, you watched with held breath.
The men were apparently unable to quiet Suga in whatever way they originally wanted, and the one who’d scratched his arm swung the sword out in preparation for a beheading. 
Your eyes lit with an ember glow, and all nine men around Suga and your horses began to rise in the air. They fought the invisible strings, twisting their bodies around, blindly swinging their weapons. Growling you jerked your head backwards and the floating men bulleted towards you and the man who up until that moment had thought he’d bested you.
Reaching out, you grabbed the hilt of the long sword held against your throat, eyes still burning, the light shining through from between the slits in your helmet. You saw the fear take over your assailant’s face. 
He fell on his backside as he clambered away from your being, having let go of the sword as soon as you’d taken hold.
A growl escaped you again as you rose your free hand into the air, the nine men who’d attempted to apprehend your companion jutting higher into the sky, their screams echoing around you. Throwing the sword you’d stolen at the lone male quivering in fright before you, you forced him to stay in place. The sword being used as a chain, buried into the ground through his shorts all the way to its hilt. 
He tried pulling at it, scratching at the dirt and rocks around where the blade met the earth, but the actions were to no avail. 
Determining one was taken care of thoroughly, you turned your full attention to those floating above you, and zeroed in on the man who’d struck your friend.
A whispered curse under your breath and all the mens’ weapons floated above their heads. You smiled behind your mask of protection, as you lowered eight of the assailants and trapped them similarly to the first.
Left with only the one you wanted to harm, you brought him close to your face. He screamed, but you paid it no mind. Your eyes’ glow changed from ember to red as you searched his mind, searching to find exactly what was used on the sword that hurt your best friend. Finding the potion mix in the man’s recent memories, you quickly threw him back up into the sky.
You heard something drop a small distance away, and hurried footsteps retreating from where you were, but you paid no real mind to it.
Growling once more, you were ready to rip Suga’s striker in half. But before you made another move a hand laid on your shoulder.
“That’s enough, (Y/N).” Suga’s warm voice whispered to you.
Glancing at him was enough to return your eye color to normal, and having removed the power from holding the attacker in the air, he quickly fell.
To your surprise, and the attacker’s relief, he landed on a pile of hay. When you turned to face him once more, he raced to scurry away, tripping over the loose hay beneath his feet but still rushing to get as far away from you as he could. 
Additionally with your power released, the weapons holding the others in place became loose and they helped one another to escape your immediate vicinity.
“Ah geesh,” Suga managed as he watched the group of men run off in pure terror. “Well there goes making a good first impression.”
You rolled your eyes but quickly moved to check his arm.
“It’s fine now. Sorry for scaring you.” He smiled as he pulled back from your touch. At your growl of annoyance, he sighed and let you take a look. Reluctantly, he half turned so his arm faced the little light still glossed over Camelot’s high walls. “See, hardly a thing once I used that salve Akaashi made. It extracted the poison fairly well I think.”
Though you had to admit, that it did only look like a cut from a sword now, the remnants of a fast acting poison still showed in his elevated veins. You scoffed at him before taking his scratch under your palm. Eyes glowing green as you whispered to yourself something that not even Suga could make out. When you released him, the scratch and evidence of poisoning had fully disappeared.
“See?” He smiled once more, “I told you it was all fine.”
You held your hand out to him, as you rolled your eyes once more.
“What?” He exclaimed indignantly, “I’m not paying you for that! I told you it was fine before you even did anything!”
When you just made a grabbing motion, and still held your hand out to him, he caved. Head drooping low as he returned to his horse’s side. He dug around one of his bags before finally pulling out a small wrapped object. “The things I let you get away with. I swear the King is going to kill me one of these days.”
You just took the treat from him and threw it into your own bag.
“And you’re not even going to eat it?!” He yelled out, annoyed that you’d take some of his chocolate and then just horde it.
Holding your pinky up at him, you used your signs to let him know you were sticking your tongue out in response. 
Before either of you could move to continue your bantering, loud footsteps were heard coming from the main entrance into the castle. Your pair looked up as 12 men stood atop the stairs, swords held at the ready. You glanced around them and noticed a single female hiding behind one male with white-tipped-hair. You sensed another pair of eyes on you and looked in their direction, seeing a dark figure move across the window space and disappear past it.
Suga coughed to pull your attention back to the men at the top of the steps, as they sheathed their swords and walked down in what you assumed was going to be their greeting towards you.
You glanced at Suga and pointed two fingers towards the ground, a sign to say he should explain very little and let the approaching group do the most talking. He nodded after seeing your message and coughed again to indicate the men had stopped just feet in front of your pair.
One man stood in the middle, and despite not wearing a crown you knew this was the new King of Camelot. The one your father had told you and Suga to determine trustworthy or not.
“Welcome to Camelot, your arrival is a bit surprising as we hadn’t expected you for at least another day.” The one you assumed was the King offered as a greeting.
You stood at attention, fulfilling your duty as an observationalist first and foremost.
Suga took his cue and began the more informative conversation. “Our King told us the letter said within the week we would arrive. To meet his expectations, with tomorrow being the end of the week, we had to arrive today.”
The men behind the King of Camelot glanced at one another, seemingly discussing things amongst themselves just as you did with Suga. It was expected of knights to be able to speak openly without being understood by outsiders. The smile that crossed the King’s features was surprising though.
“Of course! Our misunderstanding!” He joyfully announced, before actually introducing himself. “I am King Kuroo,” he indicated with a proud stance, before moving to the others. “The lady up there is my wife, Queen Yuurei. The one with her is my right hand knight, Sir Bokuto. And this,” He clamped his hand around a male to his right side, and forced the boy to step up next to him, “This is my attendant, Futakuchi.”
Your eyes narrowed behind your helmet as you sensed the amount of power pouring off the so-called attendant, and you sent a signal to Suga, though you figured he saw it as well.
“These other’s are some of the best and most important knights within Camelot’s kingdom.” He smiled, pure pride and appreciation of those around him showing through the tone he’d used to introduce them in such a manner.
Glancing at Suga, you saw his sign that he’d introduce you as agreed.
Taking a step forward, your friend proudly stood half between you and the men of Camelot. “I am Sugawara, squire to the Red Knight Yomimasu.” You bowed your head at Suga’s pause so the knights in front could recognize who he referred to. Continuing, Suga brought the attention back to himself, “If you need to speak to Yomimasu, you need me present as the Knights are forbidden to speak in uniform. We will not reveal the knight’s person until approval standards have been met. If you refuse these conditions we will leave at once.”
You could see it in the eyes of the knights behind the King, they were shocked that someone claiming to be a squire would address the King of Camelot in such a manner. In the eyes of the one introduced as Futakuchi, you saw recognition. He could see Suga’s power coursing through his veins and you watched as the servant came to understand exactly where your friend’s confidence came from. Looking at him last, the King had ample time to consider the words and tones directed at him...you were impressed to see his face held little change.
“Of course,” He answered the unasked question. “The rules of a Red Knight come first for you both. Camelot will do well to abide by them and not make you end your visit early.” He glanced around as if he didn’t really care about your answer or not, but his tone betrayed him. “Exactly how long do you expect your visit to be?”
Suga looked to you before answering, “The King expects a thorough investigation to take at least a few months, but could take longer if we feel you are trying to change our perceptions.”
You noticed a few of the knights in the rear of their formation wince, and figured they’d been doing some research into Camelot’s history with the Red Knights for just that purpose. You signaled to Suga that you wanted to laugh and he did so for you.
“Yomimasu wants to say it’s funny that you would think to try and pull something over on us like that.” Suga explained.
One of the knights stepped forward before speaking on his own, “Wait, so you really speak for the Red Knight?”
Suga and you nodded in the same instance. Neither missing a beat at the question.
“Well!” King Kuroo called, drawing attention back to himself, “I can understand that. Unfortunately your rooms are not yet prepared. Please, join us for a meal while I send someone to prepare them for you.” His smile was blinding and you thought that he probably got away with a lot just from that small action alone.
Your friend had been distracted momentarily as well before you clamped a hand on his shoulder and stood ground. He looked at you, locking eyes around the slits in the headpiece. When he finally understood, he faced the King and his knights, and said in the most serious tone, “We need to lock up our belongings before we leave them be.”
The men glanced between themselves once more before King Kuroo grinned and pushed his page forward. “Surely, Futa here would be happy to lock up your stuff for you.”
Suga frowned at the King’s twist of his words, “No, I said that WE need to lock up our belongings. Please, show us to where we will be lodged.”
It seemed the King would take Suga’s words as a threat, and had anyone questioned him again or challenged his directives it would have quickly turned into one, but a different knight stepped up from the group and stood up for your companion.
“Futa, take them to their rooms. Should be the ones next to mine. Let them lock up and then bring them to the mess hall.” The giant knight ordered as if he held the power and title of a King before trekking up the stairs, presumably to return to the dining facility himself. The other knights shrugged before following suit.
Only King Kuroo and his attendant remained in front of your pair. Suga looked on, waiting for either the King to conform to his request and follow his knight's suggestions, or to see if the King would challenge him again.
The one called Futakuchi sighed before facing his king. “Kuroo, just go back to dinner. I will take the guests as Aone has suggested.”
King Kuroo gave him a quick glare, but released it when he faced Suga’s determined gaze. “I suppose you two are correct in this course of action. Very well. Sugawara, Yomimasu, I look forward to you joining us for dinner promptly.
You just nodded again, and Suga responded that you’d make your trip short and quick.
Only then did the King nod and make his own way back to the rest of his men.
Being left alone, apparently gave the attendant confidence as he quickly stepped up to Suga and announced, “I can sense your power. If you even think to use it against Kuroo or Camelot I will end you.”
Suga glanced down to see your long sword cutting through the space between his side and arm and point directly at the attendant’s heart.
“Please refrain from threatening me as it angers Yomimasu.” He retaliated calmly.
Futakuchi looked down and saw the blade, astonished at the speed the Knight would have needed to make his draw so acutely positioned. 
Deciding that a call-out was an appropriate response, Suga regarded the King’s aide with his own threat, thinly veiled by his smiling face. “I can see yours as well there, magician. If you are trying to hide it from your King, I suggest you find a new profession.” The brunet’s eyes blew wide before Suga lazily waved his hand about, “But we do not have plans to do anything against your King or his Kingdom. As representatives of the Red Knight Order, we are here for a job and shall work to that end. Though,” he began to whisper and leaned in towards the man he was currently speaking to, “If we are attacked like that again I can’t guarantee anyone’s safety from that one.” His thumb indicated your figure and the brunet stood stock still. 
You could tell he was trying to see your power, but internally laughed as you remembered what your father told you was so special about the Red Knight’s armor.
As long as he didn’t see you outside the uniform he would never be the wiser to your true power level. And this fact made your grin despite yourself.
‘It’s important because it hides the magic that the knights possess. We don’t speak because it keeps anonymity amongst the knights, but if other magicians could see your magic then anonymity would be pointless.’
“Anyway,” Suga rolled out, his voice dragging out the syllables as he slowly faced Futakuchi once more, “Can we lock up our belongings now?”
Futakuchi nodded stiffly, before moving to help Suga with his bags and leading us to where our supposed rooms would be.
Walking down the halls of the castle, you once more felt the gaze of the dark figure you’d seen through the window. You externally ignored the presence as you had to keep up with your guide and friend.
“Here you are. You can choose who gets which room, but as Sir Aone and King Kuroo determined you’d share this hall with the knight, well…it’s just...but then...and sort of...well...see it’s...more so then...but...uh...I...see it’s just...” His inability to fully explain his thoughts confused you, but when you grabbed a pair of keys that Suga had taken from the servant, and opened the door to the room at the end of the hall you thought you understood. 
In your armour, your frame overtook most of the opened doorway. You looked inside the room and saw only a bed. No dresser, no mantle, nothing but a bed frame and what seemed to be a mattress. Though the bumped-out seat beneath the window was a benefit, the way the rest of the room lacked anything to actually lock your stuff in upset you. Turning around you faced Suga, and held your hand out to switch keys, to which he obliged quickly. 
You didn’t miss the wince that passed through Futakuchi’s lips as you moved to unlock the other room. But, you hadn’t expected it to be worse off then the room you’d just sceen.
A growl passed through your lips before you could stop it, and Suga quickly looked into the room from around your form, to see only a mattress sitting directly on the ground. No bed frame, no dresser, no mantle. He thought about how troublesome this would be, and quickly moved to stand between your and the servant’s bodies. “Calm yourself, Yomimasu.”
It couldn’t be stopped, another growl escaped your lips.
Futakuchi, to his defense, stood his ground and tried to laugh around an explanation, “The King did say the rooms were unprepared.”
With nowhere to actively lock up the belongings you couldn’t let anyone catch sight of this early into the mission, you tightened your grip on your bags and poked Suga’s shoulder forward.
“Very well,” He closed his eyes as he contemplated your suggestion. “Futakuchi, if you would lead us to the dining facility. As agreed we will meet your King and his men there now.”
The servant’s eyes blew wide before he glanced at the bags still held in your hands, “But, what about--” He’d started before being cut off by Suga’s sharp tone.
“We will abide by our agreement to meet your King in the dining facility quickly.” He reiterated.
Futakuchi nodded before turning back down the hall, leading the pair of visitors, luggage and all, to the mess for dinner.
When the group reached the doors, and the guards noticed the armor of the Red Knight, they began shivering as if a cold wind caught them off guard. Futakuchi noticed their behavior, but presumed they were still surprised by how quickly your pair had reacted to your apparent attack. He opened the doors himself and held them for Suga and you to enter.
You motioned for Suga to fall back on your walk. Whispering to him as soon as you knew he was within earshot, “You will move the mattress to stay with me until they get us proper rooms.”
He nodded in understanding and moved back to his position before your guide noticed a change in either of your demeanors.
You glanced around the room and took notice of the seating arrangements of the knights and royals. Only three empty set seats around the table, and none of them next to each other, Suga’s face contorted as he also recognized this obvious attempt to separate your pair.
“And after he’d just agreed to abide by our rules too.” Your friend mumbled just loud enough for the servant to catch. You could see the wince he made as he approached the King directly.
Suga took the seat right next to the Queen, the one he knew had probably been reserved for you, but dropped his bags at his feet, a clear sign of displeasure at the supposed accommodations recommended to them for locking up their belongings.
Deciding it best to watch, you took a seat towards the end of the table, next to the only knight who’d been formally introduced and noting he was now as far from the Queen as he could physically be while still being in the same room as her. ‘Interesting’ You thought.
To the royal’s benefit, Suga noted that he acted in the manner of a true King. He didn’t make any verbal response and instead moved slightly closer to hear the continued whispers of his magician.
“I see,” The King sighed upon Futakuchi’s conclusion, “Please pardon the state of the rooms, as I told you outside, we had not expected you until tomorrow. I have sent the maids to prepare them properly at once.”
Suga nodded, but refused to dignify that excuse with an answer.
The Queen, however, seemed not to notice the silent battle waging between the King and his visitor. “Dear, you are a cute one aren’t you. Are all the Red Knights as adorable as you?” Her gushing would make some of his shier squadmates blush, but Suga had grown up with your teases and felt he was immune to most comments as such. 
“You are very kind to think so, your highness.” He answered curtly, refusing to say more.
This was apparently not the reaction the Queen had expected, so she continued on. “The knights of Camelot are strong, sure, but very few of them have the looks to pull off all that being a knight entails. So, what of the Red Knights? Surely, you all meet those bare minimum requirements?” Her tone made it seem like a compliment, but he could sense something sinister mixed in.
He took a drink from the goblet of water in front of him, “If the knights of Camelot are regarded as knights, who are the Red Knights to judge. Not every Order has the same requirements.”
Having intentionally ignored the pressure from the Queen to answer in a manner for what she wanted, Suga smirked to himself around his glass. She huffed to herself a few times before announcing she would turn in for the evening. 
The King stood to see her out, but she rushed away despite his calls, only pausing momentarily to face the white-tipped-haired knight sat next to you at the end of the table. When his attention did not immediately get drawn to her, she continued her rush out of the hall.
Suga took the opportunity to glance at you, you’d a full plate in front of you, but you made no motions to eat anything off of it. He shook his head despite having expected this outcom. And he addressed the so-called King about it, “So you’d try to abide by our rules, huh?” 
Kuroo smirked at the call out before answering, “I only walked in a few moments before you. Perhaps my knights need a better explanation of what exactly are the expectations of our visitors while they are here in Camelot.” The smug grin the King sent to Suga irritated your friend, but he wasn’t going to back down so easily.
The two went back and forth a few more rounds before both men’s hunger demanded their utmost attention and they focused on eating instead.
At the other end of the table, you stared at the plate of food offered to you by the knights on either of your sides.
“What, is this stuff not good either?” The one that had been introduced to you as Bokuto asked, pulling chicken off its bone after asking you about your plate.
You made no move to answer, did not even turn your head to indicate you had listened to him.
“Probably can’t eat around that armor, right?” The blonde sat next to you pressured, “If that’s the case, you can just remove your helmet and eat peacefully.” He smiled as if he’d offered the best suggestion ever.
Baring your teeth behind your helmet, you successfully held back your growl. Your eyes glaring at the male who had just made that suggestion. You had to come up with something. If not, you’d go hungry, and that was not something you wished to do.
The one name Bokuto addressed his companion across from you, “Oh well Atsumu, didn’t the other guy say that the Red Knight wouldn’t reveal themselves until they decided if they were going to approve of Kuroo’s rule?”
Checking his eyes, you noticed that the knight had honestly been asking, and not trying to tease or make fun of you. This caused you to release some of the pent up frustration sitting between your shoulder blades, but that tension returned twice over when the blonde knight, presumably Atsumu began reaching for your helmet. You were sure he intended to remove it by force if necessary.
A cry of a curse was heard and you sensed the power of the King’s attendant grab hold of your helmet and hold it in place, despite the tugs of the blond knight.
“ATSUMU!” The King’s voice bellowed around the room, causing everyone to halt their actions.
The knight turned to face Kuroo with a half-sheepish grin, “Ah right, sorry about that Kuroo.”
With the tension levels high, Suga and you regrouped. Standing together as you faced the room as the Red Knights versus Camelot’s supposed finest once more. 
After a moment, you felt the pressure of Futakuchi’s magic release itself from your helmet.
You knew Suga was primed to fight, and you weren’t far off, but both of you knew that the point of coming to Camelot was not to fight these knights, or even to fight their King. You put your hand on Suga’s shoulder and tapped a specific message to him. 
“Are you sure?” He asked you aloud, clearly trying to build on the pressure amongst those still seated at the dining table.
To answer, you removed your hand from his shoulder and unsheathed your sword.
“Since you obviously refuse to acknowledge the way of the Red Knights we will return at once, and let our King know that the Order should never reacquaint itself with Camelot again.” His voice was even, and he spoke with the determination of a royal. And, you were proud of your friend for both understanding and agreeing with your assessment.
“Wait!” The fear in the King’s eyes was obvious, though the rest of his face attempted to hide it. “Surely, you don’t mean that. You are but a single Knight and squire. To begin, what power do two people such as you have over an entire Order. Further, it’s the first night. Everyone is on edge and with you both sneakily trying to lock away your bags and refusing to show us one of your faces. It is a bit much to just accept.”
Hearing the sound of more swords being drawn, you faced the knights you’d just been sat next to.
“We have the authority.” Suga responded plainly, giving no further explanation.
Kuroo, exalted and near enraged at the disrespect he felt Suga was giving him, but still fearful that he’d messed up too bad on the first meeting, grand stood for his position and continued to question your friend. “What authority? What authority gives you the power to enter another’s kingdom and not only demand certain treatment, but to demand you lock up your own stuff. For all we in Camelot know you could be planning to take us down with whatever items you have hidden in those bags of yours. So I ask again,” His voice evened out as he became serious in his accusatory question, “What authority?”
Before Suga could fight anymore you nodded to him, giving him permission to give more information than you had originally planned.
Sighing, Suga locked eyes with Camelot’s King. “We have the authority given to the King’s offspring.”
Eyes shooting wide, Kuroo glanced between the squire and the Red Knight, wondering just which of the pair was the royal and which was not. “Bokuto, Atsumu, Osamu, stand down!” He ordered the three knights.
Seeing that the King had figured something out, and that his men were putting their swords away, you sheathed your own.
“Yomimasu, grab your plate. We will eat in the rooms they’ve deemed worthy of your visit.” Suga instructed.
You rolled your eyes at his own grand standing attempt, half knowing it was a ploy to continue throwing off your hosts and half wondering if he truly expected you to not push their confusion further. So you walked directly to the King’s side. Grabbed Suga’s bags and plate, before turning back to grab your own gear, letting Suga grab your plate.
Your pair left the King and his knights in the dining hall, and found the rooms set aside for you with ease. They still stood barren of most furniture but you were both content that it was at minimum, away from the prying eyes of the people who’d made absolutely terrible first impressions.
Table of contents:
Chapter 3                                                               Chapter 5
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thestorytellersapprentice · 5 years ago
Text
Over Thunderstorm and the Impossible
Pairing: Jo Yeong/Myeong Seung-ah
Fandom: The King: Eternal Monarch
Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe, Parallel Universe, (Hint of) Time Travel
Summary: Seung-ah was sent to Yeong's apartment by Lady Noh. She ended up staying for longer than she expected, due to reasons. Short story short, things got weird, but what’s important was she was there for the Captain.
Notes: Totally non canon. More explanation over at AO3. Unbeta-ed.
Link: ArchiveofOurOwn
~ What Lady Noh said was: "Take this message from His Majesty the King for Jo daejang. Make sure you deliver it to him personally by today. This is important." She took the time to put the emphasis on “this”, whatever it was.
And when Seung-ah looked for the Captain in the Royal Guards Office, one of his subordinates told her: "Jo daejangnim doesn't come in today. We were told that he’s sick."
So, yeah, that was basically why Myeong Seung-ah found herself standing in front of Jo Yeong’s apartment later on. 
It was only after the fifth try, but she made it in the end anyway. She should have known that his place would be really tricky to find - the address and directions she got from the Royal Guards gave her the feeling of a location somewhere totally secluded that was so him - but she did not expect it'd be that tricky.
Seung-ah wondered if her sense of direction of Busan got worse from her prolonged time in Canada as she pressed his doorbell, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"Yes?" His voice was even more gruff across the intercom.
"Jo daejangnim? It's Myeong Seung-ah. Lady Noh sent me."
When he unlocked and swung his door open to let her in a beat later, Seung-ah looked up and did a double take.
She knew that it was silly of her to picture him in a full three piece suit when he's at home, but whatever it was that she expected still failed to prepare her to encounter the toned down version of the Captain.
Just like what she had encountered in the hospital, there was zero product in his hair. And just like what she had thought back then too, the sight of Jo Yeong with his forehead fully covered by his bangs made him look so different, but in a very good way. (Seung-ah would even say that he looked a hundred times cuter by her standards.) As for his outfit, he's clad in a dark loose shirt with its sleeves rolled up halfway to his elbow. It was a pretty far cry from his usual immaculate self at the Palace, but Seung-ah just needed to take a quick glance down to see that he still opted to wear long fabric pants at home, compared to the alternatives.
Seung-ah giggled internally. For a split second, she pondered if she could ever scheme him into wearing any kind of shorts, but she reckoned that it would be much quicker to find his doppelgänger to do it than to actually persuade him to do so.
Yeong led her inside and motioned her to sit on the sofa in what should be his living room while he moved towards his open kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee?”
“Tea is good, thank you.”
She looked around his apartment. As expected, it was spotless and nothing looked out of place. There were not too many personal items, but she did notice a few photographs framed and displayed on his bookshelves. Moving on, she tried to catch any signs of him being unwell, but could not find any. There was no visible medicine lying around, used tissues, fever packs, bandages, nothing.
Yeong returned with the tea, bringing over the teapot and another cup for himself. Seung-ah watched him closely as he poured some into her cup. He looked totally fine, calm and collected, as always, and clearly was not distressed.
Okay then, first, official business.
“Lady Noh told me to give you this," she retrieved the envelope from her bag and handed it over. “She said it’s a message from His Majesty, and that it’s highly important.”
The envelope in question was small, just the same size as a greeting card. She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t get curious about what's inside. However, what made her even more curious was the way the request was worded. The Head Court Lady specifically used the word 'message' instead of 'thing' or 'document'.
Seung-ah knew that the King and Captain often exchanged phone messages, if not every day. They were not tech-challenged people after all. She found it odd that the King would go to all of those troubles - well, technically, tell her to go to all of those troubles -  just to relay some messages to his best friend.
“Thank you,” he said simply. If the Captain was thinking along the same lines as her, he didn’t share it with her explicitly, but Seung-ah did think that she caught a brief flash of a perplexed look on his face as well.
“Jo daejangnim, you are okay, right? You’re not hurt?”
“Eh?”
Seung-ah sensed something was suspicious. “Your squad told me that you’re sick…” her voice trailed off.
"I'm not-" he started, but then he stopped himself. He looked like he's struggling to get whatever it was that he wanted to say, out.
If he wasn’t before, Seung-ah was positive that Yeong was slightly frustrated by then. It was one of his expressions that she was most familiar with as it's also the one he seemed to use the most.
“I was told to have a day off,” he said, finally, and he didn’t have to elaborate further. There were only a handful of people who could give Jo Yeong command and for him to actually carry it out. One of them had his message currently delivered by her, and the other one ordered her to do so. It was a no brainer.
"Is the tea to your liking?" He changed the subject. As he turned his head to look out of the window, Seung-ah also noticed that it had begun to rain. "Why don't you wait a bit until the rain has stopped before you go on your way?"
Seung-ah thought that was a really good idea. The weather forecast didn't warn her about the downpour, so she did not bring any umbrella. And, well, being in his apartment was totally not unpleasant, for obvious reasons.
After that, she just remembered that the first thunder struck. It was a big one as the rain kept getting stronger. There were flashes of lightning and rumbles, but what was burnt into her memory most was how out of nowhere the Captain doubled over in pain in front of her.
Seung-ah was startled at the turn of events. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”
Yeong had his arm clutched on his right shoulder, fully wincing.
The sky outside got darker.
“-fine,” he gritted out in between heavy panting. Seung-ah immediately dismissed his blatant lie.
“I’ll call the taxi. Let’s go to the hospital.” She had already reached into her jacket pocket to pull out her cell phone, but Yeong gripped her hand before she could even touch it.
“No,” he managed. “They won’t have a clue.”
She knew that she should have ignored him and dragged him to see a doctor anyway, but Jo Yeong fixed her such a determined look on his face. She realized that he was being absolutely serious about the fact that it was pointless to consult the doctors.
“Okay, arraseo,” she reassured him, feeling least assured herself. "At least let me take a look at it, will you?"
He tightened his grip on her hand, even though he looked like he was about to pass out.  “Don’t-”
What was he about to say was swallowed by yet another roar from the sky. The rain had turned into a thunderstorm.
That’s it, Seung-ah made her decision, seeing Yeong groaned in pain once more, this time more intense. If he wanted to shoot her afterward for her defiance, then she would also deal with it later.
Trembling, she tried to steady her fingers long enough to unbutton the top part of his shirt, careful to anticipate his further objection if he insisted. When it didn’t come, she tugged it downward, enough to expose his right shoulder.
Seung-ah instantly noticed the blood vessels- No, they weren’t those at all- they were like cracks, but instead of just a bunch of fractures, they blazed up through his skin, gleaming red and gold as if they were on fire and in sync with the thunders that kept on coming.
His breathing was completely labored by then. It should have been so painful, but she really did not know what to do and she hated herself for it.
"Hang on," she told him as she stood up from the sofa.
The first thing she looked for was his medication supplies, which thankfully were kept in an easy to reach and highly visible place: at the corner of his kitchen countertop. Almost tearing through it, Seung-ah quickly identified some painkillers he currently had and checked their expiration dates.
She debated with herself to give him two tablets in one go, but decided to wait and see. It was not the time and place to joke about it, but the last thing she wanted was to accidentally make the Captain of the Kingdom of Corea’s Royal Guards hooked on painkillers. She was pretty sure His Majesty would behead her if such a thing happened.
“Here,” she handed Yeong the tablet, bringing a glass of water to accompany it. “Let’s go for one for now, yeah?”
He nodded in agreement before downing it in one go.
Seung-ah’s next target was his bedroom. She could make out three closed doors in the apartment, but she found it behind the first door she tried.
He seemed to know what she was after, because somehow he managed to follow her inside.
And if he was uncomfortable or disapproved of what she did next, the Captain did not say anything. It could also mean that he was too weakened to protest, but still, he did not make any indication to stop her as she helped him unbutton the rest of his shirt and remove it completely from his back, pulling it past his arms carefully so as not to distress him even more.
Aiming to make him as comfortable as she could - what else could she do - Seung-ah prepped his pillow and carefully guided him to lay on his stomach.
The rain had calmed down outside his window, and it was as if his wounds were mirroring the weather. The cracks on his back were subdued then, leaving behind tiny gleams that flickered with so much less intensity than before.
Now that she had the time to inspect them, she noticed that they were centered near his right shoulder blades, more or less where he was shot on the Lunar New Year incident.
She braved a touch on one of them, and instantly pulled her hand back as it burnt.
“Don’t- touch it,” he breathed out, his voice weak. “You might hurt yourself.”
“Do they still hurt so much?” she asked, already terrified for his answer. The painkillers would only come into effect in about an hour or so. She watched his side profile intently for the correct estimation of his agony.
He did not respond for a while. When he finally did, though, she finally felt like she had earned his full honesty. “A bit.”
God, he’s sweating so much. Seung-ah could see his neck and back completely damp.
She reached out to feel the temperature on his forehead, and as she feared, he was burning up.
Seung-ah stood up, already contemplating which would be the best place to look for a towel and a small basin in the apartment. She could try asking the owner, of course, but once she saw that Yeong already had his eyes shut and he should be pretty much out of it by then, she decided that there was no need to.
However, thanks to his meticulous organization, it took her no time to locate both.
She tried her best to wipe off the cold perspiration from his back, careful to avoid the lightning cracks, which came and went as the rain kept on. He was slightly shivering then, the muscles on his back tensed every time they blazed up, which curiously seemed to be in sync with the thunders.
When they finally subsided, she was able to notice more details then. There were traces of healed scars here and there on the rest of his muscular back, but not as much as the ones he had across his arms. She even suspected a few of them to be caused by gunshot wounds. He also had several bruises scattered around his body in varying healing degrees.
At that point, the fact that Jo Yeong was a soldier could not be any clearer for Seung-ah than ever before.
After a while, staying beside him the whole time, Seung-ah finally relieved to see the steady rise and fall of his back as the medicine should have kicked in. He should have drifted off to sleep. In alignment, she felt her adrenaline level gradually dropped as she began to feel drowsy, and she soon submitted herself to a quiet slumber too.
~
When she came to, it took Seung-ah a moment to recall where she was. The bed felt soft and comfy under her, and as she blinked away the last traces of her dreams, the realization that she just fell asleep on Jo Yeong’s bed - with the owner beside her a moment ago - finally dawned on her.
Seung-ah felt giddy at first and then mortified a second later.
Thankfully, the owner of said bed was currently nowhere in her sight to witness her predicament.
Sitting up, she instantly noticed that someone had cleaned away the basin and towel, as well as Yeong’s shirt that was tossed somewhere near the door, if her memory served correctly. Said door was ajar, and she could hear faint noises coming from the direction of the kitchen.
Sure enough, she found Yeong there. He had already changed into a knitted sweater, and was currently standing with his back to her in front of the stove, apparently already busy cooking.
“Ah, gwaenchananyo? Feeling better?"
He turned. “Yes. Take a seat, I’m almost finished.”
“Anything I can help?” Seung-ah rubbed her eyes as she took a seat on the dinner table, where he had put several dishes already. She pulled out her phone, and let out a gasp as she realized how late it had been.
Yeong brought over the rice bowls and set one in front of her, before placing the doenjang-jjigae. “Let’s eat, you must be hungry.”
“Thank you for cooking,” she said, now feeling embarrassed for napping too long. “How are you feeling, daejangnim?”
“Much better,” he said. He made a point to look straight at her as he replied, as if giving her the permission to scrutinize him. And she did. He did look so much better, just a bit worn out, but mostly he had been back to his usual composed self. “Don’t worry, the sky’s cleared up.”
She stopped her chopsticks in midair.
“You must have noticed it too, do you? That they correlate to the thunderstorm?”
Well, her assumptions were one thing. Hearing the confirmation from the man himself, though, was another matter.
“I can’t really explain it scientifically either. This is the first time it happened to me, but I’ve seen it happen the same way to other people before.
“What caused it?”
“I don’t think you’d believe me,” he replied. He said it with just a tiny hint of self amusement in his voice, but it didn’t feel like he was pulling her legs. Seung-ah interpreted it as his unspoken admission that he, too, had just become a believer not too long ago.
During any other circumstances, she’d probably say that the man should be bonkers, but she had witnessed it firsthand. So, either both of them were equally mad, or something impossible did just happen.
“Okay…” she decided to go with it for now. She simply did not think she had much brain power left.
“Thank you for staying,” he remarked, quietly. Seung-ah tried her best not to blush over his penetrating gaze.
~
After dinner, Yeong called a taxi for her.
Seung-ah was putting on her coat when her gaze landed on the message from the King. Due to all of the ruckus, it had remained on his coffee table, unopened and forgotten.
She should have stared at it longer than she should, because soon the Captain followed suit. He picked up the envelope and opened it swiftly.
As he finally read the card that was inside, Seung-ah watched as his eyes widened, then his eyebrows knitted and he did his half head tilt of wonder and puzzlement (that she should admit made him look even cuter).
Without saying anything, he handed her the piece of paper.
Seung-ah received it tentatively, feeling strange that she would be allowed to read it. She looked down and instantly recognized her King’s writing.
“Glad you’re feeling much better, Yeong-ah. I know you don’t like it when people invade your personal space, but you shouldn’t be alone on days like these.
P.S. Take another day off tomorrow to rest comfortably. You too, Miss Myeong Seung-ah, you need it."
She did not know what to make of it. She felt a nagging feeling that something even weirder was totally going on, but she could not seem to pinpoint what it was exactly.
Wait. It doesn’t mean that His Majesty knew that Jo Yeong daejangnim would fall ill, does it? He’s just pulling pranks on his best friend, isn’t he?
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pinkesthoney · 5 years ago
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💖 Love Reading 💖
Heya, here’s a lil cute love reading. 
(timeless, general reading; as with everything, trust your intuition and let anything that doesn’t resonate go on its way 💖)
Numbers: 3, 4, 7, 9, 12, 13
Major Theme: Surprise // Heritage. Something in your life is about to be flipped upside down, revealed in an unexpected way, or shown in a new light. Be open to new ways of thinking–in order to have a healthy relationship you may need to change your stance on something. **note: this does not mean change who you are or anything that you want to keep, spirit is saying it will be to your advantage to let something go. Something isn’t serving you and is actually getting in your way. This feels like a certain belief you’ve held on to in the past that is now limiting your options.  You will find guidance in your heritage. You can understand what beliefs you’ve been born into and which of them are serving you and which are limiting you. Spirit’s saying tuning into your own compass will tell you which is which. When in doubt, choose love.
For some of you you’ve learned an unhealthy relationship pattern from your ancestors. This might be hindering your current love life and getting in the way if you are trying to manifest a lover. This blockage isn’t necessarily a romantic one, it may have to do with how you process boundaries or how you’ve been taught to  think about yourself. It’s good to carry on legacies that feed us and make our foundations solid, just like it’s good to remodel beliefs that hurt and limit us.
Current/present energy: Lack. Right now your energy seems limited in some way, like you lack the tools you need or you’re always stuck wanting more than you have. Spirit is saying you have everything you need (spiritual tool-wise) and you are perfectly prepared. If you are trying to heal previous soul wounds, know that everything you need in order to heal is already inside you. The answers to healing lie within, not without. Spirit will never give you more than you can handle, but this also means you may not get what you’ve been asking for until you master where you’re at. This healing work doesn’t have to be painful or difficult, Spirit is highlighting that you can have fun healing and defining yourself. You may want to focus on reconnecting with pleasure, and fully allowing yourselff to feel pleasure (not just sexual pleasure, which is actually usually the easiest to rationalize), you do not need to earn a pleasurable life, you are allowed to make your life comfortable and full of pleasure whenever you want. Lie down and gaze at the clouds for no reason at all, read a plotless romance novel if that’s your thing. You don’t need to rationalize or justify giving yourself pleasurable experiences.
Future energy: Moving on, closure. Soon you will be facing a choice; neither is a ‘bad’ choice, one will keep you in the cycle you are already in, the other will move you into a new stage. Be mindful, Spirit is saying you may not realize you are making this choice until you already have. When we decide we’re done with something (i.e. toxic friendships, unrequited love, etc.) Spirit will often give us a final ‘hurdle’ of giving us the chance to turn that thing we don’t want down. This will sometimes feel like a risk, like if we don’t take this thing, even though it isn’t satisfying or what we want, at least it’s better than nothing. If we decide to stay with that thing, that’s fine, it just means we won’t get that better thing we were asking for cause we’ve essentially told Spirit that the thing we chose to stay with is enough for us. Look out for moments where something you’ve decided you’re too good for comes back as an offer. Whichever choice you make, you will eventually get where you’re meant to be, so no worries there. Be clear about what you want and you will be led towards it. Be clear about what you won’t accept and hold firm in that.  You won’t miss out on anything by turning down something that isn’t good enough for you. You will always get what is promised to you. 
Words: city, hard/hand, zero, level, lean, inspect, duty, sail, tumorous, senior, sister, happen; 
1. for some of you someone has a grip on you, you feel like you owe it to then to stay in a relationship (you don’t), and they lean on you but offer no support. their love is also very lean, like it will fill you but not satisfy, like there’s a lot of it, but nothing meaningful. They might be all talk and no action. You just want to escape and start from scratch. You want to set the meter back to zero and have a fresh start (either with them or with someone else). I feel like if you look closely at the relationship and get a fresh perspective on it, you’ll see how much more you deserve and how this isn’t satisfying for you. You can stay in this if you want but it won’t change and it won’t become more satisfying. You have to be in the relationship you are in, not the one you wish you were in. If you keep hoping the relationship will magically change, that might be a sign it’s not the right one.
2. for some of you life feels very busy, like you have a lot to pay attention to but you’re stuck in gridlock waiting for everyone else to do their part. It feels like you’ve been handed the brunt of the responsibility when someone else was supposed to help you with it. It’s perfectly okay to drop things that were never our responsibility to hold. it seems like you were waiting for a sign or for something to happen, but it just hasn’t come. This might be because you aren’t in the right relationship yet or the right situation. You don’t need to do anything to fix this besides taking your energy back and focusing on living as the main character or your own life. (sidenote for some of you, your person might be a bit older than you) there is someone in your life who has knowledge they can share with you. They might be able to help you find your way out of this situation with all these extra responsibilities.
3. Some of y’all feel like giving up. Like love is never going to find you, like you’ve hit a dead end, like there’s no reason to keep up hope. First of all, if Spirit has made you a promise, it will be fulfilled. Rock-bottom isn’t a loss of all hope, it’s a fresh start, an opportunity to make new choices exactly how we want. Think of opening a new game of sims, you get to rebuild everything exactly how you want it (is that how sims works? I was never allowed to play because of the sex). If you just focus on this rebuilding, you’ll find that before you know it you feel older, wiser, and like this setback was nothing at all. Spirit is saying things may feel out of control but it’s all being orchestrated to make the best symphony of experiences. This is all for a purpose.
Reflection: This is a love reading, but for a lot of the energies here, there’s some healing that needs to happen before a relationship can grow. Don’t rush this either, this is a foundation to build on so make sure you take your time. You may want to considerpreviouslyy held beliefs that are now restricting you. Flexibility and optimism will serve you well right now.
💖💖💖 thanks for reading with me and I hope this was helpful! 💖💖💖
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