#the fact they announced a part 3 to In Search Of Darkness is exciting well if you like 80s horror XD

[xreaderbooks]

The Shadows of Our Love |3|

Chapter 3 | In the Shadow of Evasion

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: slow burn, language

Summary: Y/n had DADA and a group date in Hogsmeade

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Playlist

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts... picture is not mine, credit to @legacyshenanigans

Chapter 2 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 4

The passing week went by as soon as it started with most- if not all your classes with the boy who was keen to avoid you for all of eternity it seems. Every attempt to talk to him was shut down with him quickly walking away in the opposite direction or talking to one of your classmates, finding any and every excuse to seem too busy to talk.

It hurt, you didn’t know what you did wrong, as far as you knew with the last exchange of letters, everything should be fine. He was getting along with Ominis despite the fact that you were the one who convinced him not to turn Sebastian in. Being a part of someone’s life, dueling side-by-side in life-risking situations, it’s almost impossible not to grow feelings.

You shared moments that one would dare call ‘bonding time’, fighting off all kinds of monstrosities, helping him find a cure for Anne no matter how drastic. You were his support when his own best friend wasn’t, and in a way he became yours. Poppy and Natty aside, he became a huge part of your life at Hogwarts, learning the secrets of your shared house (made you feel like you had a special connection with him), and especially out of Hogwarts with all the dangerous situations you both got involved in.

You foolishly thought he shared the same sentiment.

You felt betrayed, betrayed, and angry. You thought you were giving him space to heal, thinking you needed to heal on your own as well, you didn’t think you were giving Sebastian the perfect excuse to disappear on you.

When you walked into the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom on Friday morning, you were determined to get answers. He would speak to you whether he wanted to or not, one conversation was all you needed.

“Today I will be introducing the topic of Nonverbal Spells,” Professor Hecat announced to the class as soon as everyone had arrived.

The only familiar faces are Sebastian (of course, You thought), Leander Prewitt, and Cressida Blume.

Leander raised his hand, “But Professor, I thought we were going to continue our lesson on Dementors.”

Last class, Professor Hecat gave a lecture on the soul-sucking wraiths, their strengths, what they feed off of, and the charm that repels them. It was expected that you would be learning how to cast a patronus but she had other plans.

“I can understand that some of you are excited to produce a patronus charm,” She walked around the class and placed her hand on his shoulder as she passed him. “However it is more difficult than it may seem, Non-verbal spells and counter spells are just as exciting, Mr. Prewitt.”

“ Now, I would like for you all to divide into pairs, one partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence.”

You searched the room with your eyes dreading pairing with literally anyone other than Sebastian, due to the current status of your friendship, your choice would be either one of the Gryffindors that you were sort of acquaintances with.

“Mr. Sallow, I’d like for you to be paired with Ms. L/n,” Professor Hecat declares and motions for the two of you to take up an open spot on the floor. It looked like Cressida was headed for Sebastian and Leander was headed towards you. “Both of you are my most skilled students, it would do you both well to get a feel for Non-verbals, that way shall I need any assistance going further, you two will be more than capable.”

Sebastian look as if he wanted to protest but didn’t, you on the other hand were thanking Merlin for the opportunity, perhaps this lesson will be able to break the silence between you. Ironically.

“Sebastian, Why don’t you start?” The older woman suggested. “Y/n, try your best to block him. I’ll be walking around the room, checking everyone’s progress.”

You and Sebastian stood facing each other, 5 feet apart as everyone else was. There was no humor in his gaze as there normally was, you had gotten used to his jokes, the flirty comments that suggested more than there actually was between the two of you. When it was just the two of you on a quest, he had an easygoing manner that made fighting off villains, easier.

Now, in class, the intent in his gaze, was nowhere near humorous as he focused on the conjuration of a spell to attack you with.

You kept your ground, waiting for the blow, not sure what to expect from him. Your thoughts were soon answered as several moments passed and the knockback jinx sent you to the floor.

“Are you even trying?” Sebastian retorted, as you lifted yourself off the ground, nothing you haven’t dealt with before. The comment though, reminded you of the argument you had with him last year when he called you ignorant after finding out you were in league with Lodgok.

Oh, Lodgok. You shook the memory of the goblin who had been a victim of his own brother's wrath and how you wished you would’ve been able to defeat Ranrok before it was too late.

Another blast sent your way, you scowled dusting yourself off, once again standing from the floor.

“I’m fine Sebastian, thank you for asking,” You sighed and focused harder this time. You widened your stance, now that you knew what to prepare for, you felt the magical aura rise, and as you felt the vibration in your wand, with the perfect timing you blocked the spell with your wand. “My turn.”

You mentally think of the spell you wanted to use, nothing came to mind except for the sharp sting of his words.

His eyes narrowed for a second before going back to normal, steadying his stance to focus as you did before.

You willed a spell, any spell to counter his previous moves, the feeling of magic in your veins you wanted a stinging jinx one that would hurt him. A dull hum sang in the back of your head, familiar and consuming.

You tried to refocus on the stinging jinx, or a knockback spell, anything to bubble up your ancient magic. You winced as your wand sputtered out red, green, and purple sparks.

Sebastian had a hand on his hip, his head tilted as he observed you.

“Do you mind?” You shot at him, you felt the heat rise from your neck at the embarrassment.

“Not at all,” He smirked. You wished you could conjure something, anything to wipe the amusement of your failure off of his face. You weren’t used to not being good at something, it had been a long time since you felt a failure at the hands of something magical.

You sighed and attempted to will a single spell into your wand without saying a word, and every time, you felt the icy blue glow that came from your veins.

You both settled on him practicing jinxing you and you, blocking them. At the least, you were successful in doing that, but the glow from inside you never faltered, it was like it was absorbing all the power sent your way.

Professor Hecat dismissed the class after the second hour, encouraging you and your classmates to keep practicing and to begin thinking of one of your happiest memories, listing them if you had to, and turn in a paper on why it was your happiest memory for homework.

Leaving the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom, you searched for Sebastian, in hopes of being able to tell him and thing or two about his treatment of you this past week.

Once again, he was gone before you could reach him.

~~~

The dorm was empty when you got there.

You got dressed into your usual brown pants, white blouse, and blue corset with a belt around your waist, lacing up your almost knee-high boots. It reminded you of the adventures you used to go on, making you reminisce, despite the dangerous feats you had to admit you missed it.

You descended the steps of the girl's dormitory and into the common room when you caught sight of Ominis who was already moving toward you.

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Hi,” You greeted him, placing a hand on his shoulder so he would know where you were.

“Have you spoken to him?”

You didn’t need him to specify who ‘him’ was, unfortunately, what happened just 30 minutes ago left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Not exactly…”

“He was in quite a mood in the Undercroft,” He exhaled. “I was simply minding my business when I hear the gate shut and he begins casting spells like a madman.”

You smile to yourself fondly at knowing Ominis ‘minding his own business’ actually meant taking a nap. Sebastian’s behavior was a surprise, in fact, you knew that is what he chose to do with his free time, especially when letting off steam but you couldn’t find yourself to care at the moment.

“I’m sorry to hear that he disturbed your peace Ominis, but he was in no mood to speak with me, nor I him for that matter. I tried to catch up with him after class, to tell him a piece of my mind- he’ll no doubt tell you about it when he’s ready- and he was gone.”

Ominis hummed in thought, you glanced at the clock, noticing it was almost lunchtime. You and the others had agreed to go to the three broomsticks for lunch, so you would all have the rest of the day to walk around and shop before dark.

“Garreth and I are going to Hogsmeade with a group if you’d like to join?”

“That’s alright, I should be checking on Sebastian, see if I can get him to stop being… well him.”

“Okay, next time then.”

He bowed his head as he used his wand to guide him to the boy’s dormitories. You climbed the stairs up and out of the common room, hearing the sound of the cement snake slither into an arch, you walk to the great hall entrance where you saw Garreth pacing around.

You cast the disillusionment charm, creeping up behind him and shouting in his ear. He jumped and screamed, it was a high-pitched one that echoed in the moderately full hall.

He clutched his chest, “You!”

You laughed heartily at his expression, “That was for yesterday. What are you doing out here for?”

“Well, meanie.” He lightly pushed you, “I thought of waiting for you in front of the Slytherin door like a gentleman but… you know, Gryffindor.”

“Aw, Garreth are you scared of a couple of Slytherins?”

He glared at you playfully, “Shut up.”

Footsteps, loud and heavy came closer from running. “Wait!”

Imelda slowed to a jog, stopping once in front of you and Garreth.

“I’m coming with you.”

You raised a brow in suspicion, “Really?”

“Ugh, don’t act so surprised Y/n, you said I didn’t know how to have fun.”

“So, you’re willingly coming with us?”

She shot you a look, weaving between the two of you, opening the Great hall doors and holding it open for you. “Well?”

You looked over at Garreth who shrugged. “You’re that desperate to prove me wrong.”

You and Garreth walk alongside Imelda, seeing Poppy and Natty sitting by the fountain with Leander and Nellie.

“I��can be fun, I consider Quidditch fun, not my fault you lot can’t feel the greatness of winning. But since this is what you losers consider fun, I’ll try it.”

“Okay,” You responded simply. The sight of Leander trying and failing at flirting with Poppy makes you cringe. “Why’d you invite him?”

Garreth’s face held something cold, something you’d never seen from him, no matter what the circumstance. “He invited himself.”

“Let’s how this goes then,” You braced yourself for Leander's overbearing presence.

Natty and Poppy greeted you with a hug, and smiles for Imelda, Poppy gave Garreth a shy wave. One he returned with equal warmth in his cheeky grin.

~~~

The three broomsticks were busy as per usual so seating was a bit complicated but once a couple of people left, the boys who had let you girls take the available seats first (much to Leander's dismay), they were able to sit.

Lunch made by Sirona was arguably one of the best meals you’ve ever eaten, the time flew by with your friends, and Leander made more than a few distasteful jokes but nothing that could’ve ruined the good vibes.

You all got to catch up, sharing stories on what you were all up to during the summer.

Poppy helped her grandmother with her research on unicorn blood and its benefits, Natty went back to Matabeleland with her mother but only for a short period of time because of safety, you and Garreth told them about how it was to live together.

You both confessed to having a bit of a fling… mouths were left open, and jaws dropped. Imelda smugly said she called it.

“It was too weird, he’s like a brother now,” You said. “It was only for a month and a half towards the end of summer.”

“A month and a half?” Leander exclaimed.

“Who broke up with who?” Natty asked.

“It was mutual,” Garreth answered. “And gee thanks, Y/n/n.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing why you both decided to break up with each other, it was fun and a nice distraction. You had always found Garreth attractive and apparently so did he, but your heart belonged to Sebastian and he belonged to an unknown girl. The only time Garreth made a mature decision, it was easy to confuse the two when you both aching for other people.

You both knew that though your relationship could have continued, as a couple, you didn’t have the spark.

You chose to leave out the romantic feelings for other people.

“Now that I know red hair is your type-” Leander began.

“Leander!” Nellie smacked the boy behind the head.

She then, thankfully, changed the subject to her new hobby which sounded all kinds of risky. A new sport apparently, called rock climbing, she loved all things that gave her a thrill. Only a handful of people knew how to do it in the world, safely, that is.

All in all, a brilliant time, you had all agreed to do this every other week, just send an owl if you couldn’t make it. The rest of the night was spent strolling around Hogsmeade, looking at all the new in-season merchandise.

~~~

You and Imelda stumbled into the common room, tripping over yourselves and giggling. She took Quidditch too seriously, but other than being desperately passionate about the sport, she was a nice hang. She proved as much throughout your time, hardly being as stuck up as she normally was for literally everything.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, it had been a while since you felt this light.

That was, until she said goodnight, noticing how quiet you got. You stood stunned at Sebastian sitting in his usual armchair in front of the fire, book in hand, he stared at you as you stared at him.

Seconds, minutes, passed, and he broke the silent staring contest by going back to his book. You strolled passed him, pretending what passed between you, never happened. 

~~~

Chapter 4

Taglist:

@vanivivs

[rosemaidenvixen]

Algea

Chapter 3

<Previous Next>

Ao3

With the sun sitting low on the horizon the already wane light that trickled through the canyon into the narrow castle windows gave way to near complete darkness. The only thing holding the gloom at bay was the flickering torches lining the walls. New recruits often described the mood set by this lighting as ‘creepy’.

But Kikimora, who’d spent nearly her entire adult life in these halls, was utterly unbothered by it. Striding down the wide corridor with practiced grace, comfortable in her element. But not relaxed, in the castle walls relaxing more often than not led to finding a dagger in your back.

Through the years Kikimora had seen others rise and fall through the ranks of the Emperor’s coven, not all but more than a few of them she’d even had a hand in pushing part of the way down. Still she remained and they did not, and that fact was owed mostly due to her own ambition and cunning.

As well as a few carefully brokered alliances.

A pair of scouts nodded in greeting as Kikimora strode through the wide door leading to the office of the Minister of Communications, but she didn’t so much as turn her head.

In the Emperor’s coven it wasn’t enough to be the best and brightest, Lilith Clawthorne’s fate was a testament to that. More than smart you had to be ruthless, ferreting out your competitors’ hidden weaknesses and using them against them. Setting up their downfall before you ever faced them in combat.

Approaching a wide desk in the center of the room she didn’t even bother announcing her presence.

“Anything interesting today?”

To his credit Vernworth didn’t so much as flinch, not even glancing up from the various screens at his desk as he gave a derisive snort “Hardly, just more pictures of baby ratworms,”

While she betrayed no outward reaction Kikimora felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t trust Vernworth, no doubt nor did he her. But their arrangement of exchanging secrets and blackmail material on other high ranking coven officials was one where if he told her there was nothing she believed him. Still, Kikimora hadn’t gotten to where she was by not being thorough. 

And as the Emperor’s humble left hand, Kikimora had no greater competition than his golden right.

“What about our esteemed Golden Guard?”

Adrian rolled his eyes “Hardly, just typical spoiled brat stuff,”

“Oh?” Kikimora leaned forward, peeking up at his screens “What kind of stuff?”

“Titan I don’t know why you’re so fixed on him,” Vernworth mumbled, but nevertheless tapped a scroll a few times before pushing it across the desk towards her “Here, it’s all over Penstagram, I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen it yet,”

Kikimora eagerly grabbed the scroll only to freeze when she saw the picture pulled up. 

As quickly as she could Kikimora sent the post to herself, replaced the scroll on the desk, and hurried towards the door.

“Umm you’re welcome!” Vernworth called after her sarcastically but she hardly noticed. Practically vibrating with excitement as she stared down at the picture in her hands.

The post was of a picture of two young witches swimming in a lake up to their shoulders in water, looking at each other and smiling. She had no idea who the dark haired witch was, but the other one, unmasked but clearly recognizable, was Hunter himself.

The caption was something derogatory towards the other witch but Kikimra couldn’t care less. Here was proof that the Emperor’s so-called right hand man didn’t value duty nearly as much as he claimed he did if he would abandon his post to–

Kikimora staggered to a stop in the middle of the hall, not even bothering to step to the side as she hurriedly started searching through Penstagram.

If Hunter had had a ‘dalliance’ with the brat in the photo once, who’s to say he hadn’t done it before? And just maybe…

Through backtracking she found the profile of the other witch in the photo, from there it was a bit trickier, as most of her photos had been set private. But few things were beyond the reach of the Emperor’s official assistant, and after a thorough search Kikimora struck gold.

A series of photos showing the dark haired witch and others, Hunter alongside them, dressed in sports gear and practicing their game, all stamped with the specific dates and times the photos were taken, which could be corroborated with times that Hunter was supposed to be on missions. All of them linked to a profile whose grainy photo and poor quality pseudonym did nothing to conceal the fact it belonged to Hunter himself.

A glee so potent it bordered on drunkenness shot through her, quivering with delight from head to toe. It took everything she had to not burst into triumphant laughter right then and there.

Oh this was good. Proof that the Golden Guard wasn’t the perfect little obedient soldier he pretended to be. Setting up an unauthorized Penstagram account, fraternizing with civilians when he was on duty, perhaps going a bit further than fraternization with one of them. In any case as soon as the Emperor saw these the Golden Guard was finished.

Forcing back her mirth and swallowing back her giggles, Kikimora carefully recomposed herself into the calm, professional Emperor’s assistant. Pulling in a deep breath and demurely folding her hands in front of her as she continued down the hall towards her destination.

Few were ever allowed into the Emperor’s private workshop, much less without an appointment or explicit summons, but Kikimora was among the elite few who could arrive here without notice and be heard out instead of reprimanded. It was further than she would have liked, situated in the very bowels of the castle. But what was a little walk when her ultimate triumph was within reach?

Eventually she reached the Emperor’s workshop, a tall metal door at the end of a hall that was gloomy even by the castle’s standards, flanked on either side by a pair of scouts. The scouts knew better than to impede her progress, merely opening the door and announcing her presence before stepping back. Allowing Kikimora to stride between them into the room ahead, the door swinging shut behind her, cutting off the already dim light of the hall and leaving her in the deeper gloom of the workshop. Despite the sudden darkness, Kikimora didn’t allow her perfect posture to so much as slip as she stepped through the dark room and approached the workbench, where the Emperor himself sat tinkering with his staff.

“What is it Kikimora?” Belos’s voice echoed out from behind his mask, startlingly loud in the quiet room “I presume you would only interrupt my limited leisure time for a matter of the most dire importance,”

Kikimora was far too experienced to flinch at that, but she allowed herself to discreetly pull in a deep breath. Had to step carefully now, her information might be good but it had to be applied correctly or else all her careful planning would be for naught. 

“I’m afraid I come with unfortunate news regarding your nephew,” she made sure her voice came out sincere, betraying none of the vindication she felt.

“Oh?” the infection in Belos’ voice was subtle but it was there, setting aside his staff and tools and turning to face her fully.

She kneeled down and held out her scroll, damning photos already pulled up. Submissively lowering her gaze as Belos reached out and accepted it.

 “I have discovered that young Hunter neglects his duties to spend time with commoners,” she kept her gaze cast down while gesturing up to her scroll in Belos’ hand “The proof is in your hands, I suspect he might even be engaged in an affair with one of them,”

She fell silent and took half a step back, still not raising her eyes, as Belos examined her scroll. With his mask in place she couldn’t see Belos’ expression, but she kept a careful watch of his every motion. One arm raising the scroll to his face, the other shifting as he swiped through the photos–

Abruptly all movement stopped, Belos sitting completely motionless in his chair as he stared down at her scroll. 

The frozen silence went on for so long that Kikimora had to fight the urge to squirm. Dread starting to seep into the back of her mind that she may have just made a horrible mistake– 

A loud snap echoed through the room, breaking the silence and making Kikimora flinch back in surprise.

Her scroll clattered to the floor in jagged pieces, some still trapped in the Emperor’s claw like grip, black sludge dripping out from between the cracks in his gauntlets as his hand shook–

A breath caught in her throat.

But not with the pain from his curse, she realized, with rage.

The chair was shoved away from the bench with a shriek, clattering to the floor as Emperor Belos snatched up his staff and swept out of the room. A rustle of his cloak and a slamming door and just like that Kikimora was alone, still kneeling there on the cold floor with only the shattered scroll and upturned stool for company.

For a moment she remained where she was. When it became clear Emperor Belos wasn’t returning she slowly rose to her feet. Hesitating only slightly, Kikimora approached the workbench and righted the stool before leaning down and gathering up the pieces of her scroll. She disposed of the pieces in the nearest waste bin, along with the rag she’d used to wipe up stray drops of sludge. Only when she was certain that all traces of the Emperor’s outburst were erased did she turn and depart the room. Willing her breathing to be deep and steady as she made her way down the hall, going over the events that had just transpired in her head. 

Belos was furious, that much was clear, but not with her. If it had been Kikimora he was enraged with it wouldn’t be the scroll lying on the floor in pieces. Which meant that the target of his fury could only be Hunter.

She had to hold back a snicker as she turned and headed back to her own quarters. Elated in her success at reducing the Golden Guard’s favor in the Emperor’s eyes.

Oh Belos must be absolutely furious with his nephew. No doubt he’d demote Hunter for sure. Maybe even have him flogged–

Her steps faltered, composure cracking for the first time tonight.

There was a chance that Belos would have Hunter flogged, but retain his rank. And while she certainly wouldn’t mind seeing that golden brat get knocked down a peg, what good was it if it didn’t put her further ahead?

There was no telling what kind of punishment Belos would dole out, but if she had to pick between flogging and demotion Kikimora would much prefer the demotion. That would give her the opportunity she needed to rise up in the hierarchy. 

“Everything ok ma’am?” one of the scouts spoke up.

Kikimora shook her head “Y– yes I’m fine,” picking herself up and continuing on her way. Shrugging off the momentary bout of nerves and leaning back into her triumph.

There was no way this would fail, her information had been too good and Belos had been far too angry. Her scheme would succeed and she would soon surpass Hunter in the Emperor’s eyes, Belos may even make her the Golden Guard…

This time she let a tiny laugh escape her, walking through the hall buzzing with the thrill of victory.

[lovecanbesostrange]

11/31 Days of Halloween: Documentaries

Crystal Lake Memories: The Complete History of Friday the 13th Doc of the Dead Going to Pieces: The Rise and Fall of the Slasher Film Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror I am Nancy In Search of Darkness Never Sleep Again: The Elm Street Legacy Scream, Queen! My Nightmare on Elm Street Wolfman’s got Nards

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

PART ONE

𝙇𝙊𝙆𝙄 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Bored after staying on Asgard your entire life, you decide to sneak on earth. But what happens when Steve falls irrevocably in love with you, the Queen of Asgard, wife of Loki.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: yandere, obsession, death, violence, cursing, manipulation. If you find any of this triggering, please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.  

ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ

As you know my previous account got deleted and therefore I have to post this again... Hope you guys like it!

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

You sat reading a book in the ethereal gardens of the Palace, with your back pressed against a tree. Loki had brought that book from Midgard. You loved reading, and Loki always got you books from all over the nine realms. That’s how you had bonded in the very beginning.

As you read the book, you had a feeling you already knew what was going to happen, as if you had already read it. So, you closed it and stared at the grand garden before you. Filled with plethora of flowers, the sweet smell diffusing in the air, the palette of colors pleasing the eye.

“Do you need something?” Your maid asked. You shook your head, “I don’t, and even if I needed something I would take it myself.” You gave her a smile at that.

You were the daughter of a common farmer; you were independent since your birth. You had a habit of doing everything by yourself and even despite it being years since marrying Loki, you still couldn’t quite get adjusted to maids. They weren’t servants for you, they were your friends. Your humility and intelligent was something Loki had fallen head over heels for.

The entire Asgard was happy and wonderfully surprised when Loki had announced that he would be marrying you. A common girl with barely any powers was marrying the God of Mischief and the king of Asgard; that had generated quite the rumors, some even thought it was one of his pranks. Even you were worried, but Loki had chased all your worries away.

Despite Thor being the elder brother, Loki had been crowned as the king. Though Thor was powerful and had immense strength, he neither wished to be the king, nor did he have the time to be one. He was rather busy with Midgard and thus Loki had taken the mantle.

When it came to you, even despite being the God of Lies, Loki never lied. He was the best husband you could ask for. Taking your opinions in consideration, asking for your help, cherishing you, loving you more than anybody else. He didn’t rule Asgard alone, no, he ruled Asgard alongside you.

You had changed him; from the selfish Loki whose heart was filled with vengeance, you had made him into a noble and beloved king. But still he never stopped pulling pranks on you, and you took it just as lightly. He was still very mischievous at his heart and you had accepted him with all he brought along.

There was just one thing he didn’t allow: you visiting Earth. And that was only because he was worried for you. The people of Midgard had not taken his attack lightly, and they were still very much furious. Though they were now on good terms, he didn’t want anything to happen to you. You were his everything.

And visiting Earth at least once was one of the only things you wanted. Literally everyone had been to Midgard except you. Even Loki and definitely Thor frequented Midgard, but not you. Once a month you both used to come to that topic and he would brush you off, promising you to take somewhere else. And that maybe fueled your need to go to Midgard even more.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” When you heard his sweet yet authoritative voice, you smiled softly. Lost in thoughts you hadn’t even noticed he was sitting beside you. You inhaled deeply, “I was thinking about the forbidden fruit. I was thinking what would go wrong if I went to Midgard. Just once Loki, just once. That’s the only thing I ask of. I’ve heard the Earth is circular, unlike Asgard!” You asked giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Now my beloved, how many times, huh? How many times do I have to list the reasons why you shouldn’t visit Midgard. I won't be able to live if something happens to you. I will go insane, there won’t be a point in living.” He gently took your chin between his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.  

“I know Loki, I love you too. But aren’t your relations with Earth better now? And Thor goes there all the time and so do you! And I have powers Loki!” You had the powers of making anyone reveal the truth. You were a rarity; a commoner with powers. Your ability to extract truth was really an ace at your side while ruling Asgard.

“We don’t know if someone is holding any grudge. I can’t risk it. Ask me anything, I will search the entire universe for it and bring it upon your feet. Just not Earth. Now I don’t want to ruin such a perfect day by arguing with you.” Before you could speak further, he shut you with a kiss.

As you both laid in each other embrace, you got lost in the abyss of his eyes. “Oh Loki, do you know how much I love you?” With eyes full of mischief, “Well you do know a certain way to show your love, my beloved wife.” He quipped.

~~~

Today Thor was leaving for Midgard. And at the same time, you had made your plans to sneak. You had started wondering if Loki had a mistress there, well what else could be his reason for not permitting you to visit Earth.

One part of the plan was already in action. You had shared your concerns with Heimdall. He had been awfully quiet but when you had pleaded and asked of it as a favor for his Queen, he had agreed. On the condition that you would return within 3 days, or else he would pull you back to Asgard. You had happily agreed.

The plan was simple, while he would transport Thor, you would go too, you just had to stand close enough to Thor. All excited, you got ready in the best of your clothes. You knew they didn’t dress like this on Midgard, but you had an impression to make as the Queen of Asgard.

The dark green silk robe complimented your emerald wedding ring; you wore button earrings and connected them to your hair clip with chains. You let your hair down but not without braiding few locks of hair; your right index and ring fingers were adorned with your best rings. You wanted to wear your crown, but decided it would be too much for Midgardians; after all you were going there for vacation, you had no plans of ruling earth.

Not many were there to say goodbye to Thor, the Prince travelled very frequently. You were glad that today neither Loki nor the warriors were there. “Goodbye Thor, have a safe journey!” You said as you stood a little too close to him. It was your signal for Heimdall to transport you to Midgard. “Thank you, sister...” before Thor could complete his sentence, you were both sucked into the wormhole.

~~~

It was a.... cool experience to say at least. To be honest, you had no idea. You had kept your eyes closed through half of the journey, and you had probably screamed your throat dry. You did travel through the Bifrost at times but Loki always held you tight. Today though you were spinning all by yourself in the rainbow tunnel. Thank the Norns, it was over faster that you expected.

As Thor landed gracefully in the Avengers compound, you landed straight on your ass and skidded halfway across, bruising you elbow and knuckles.

Thor’s voice boomed aloud, as you tried to get up rubbing your aching ass, “Oh dear Sister! Are you alright?” He said as he helped you get up, “Well, Heimdall didn’t tell me how to land.” You tried to lighten the mood.

“There must have been some mistake. Don’t worry I’ll call Heimdall to send you back.” He said softly while rubbing your elbow as he began praying to Heimdall.

“Uhh, well Thor, that’s not needed. And this... this wasn’t an accident at all. I kind of made a deal with Heimdall and he sent me here...” Thor’s eyes widened with shock and what you thought was anger. You had never ever seen Thor get angry at you, ever. And you were truly scared now.

Thor and you were best of friends. It was as if you two were siblings, not Thor and Loki. As you looked at him now, you knew you had truly screwed up. You knew your decision would anger Loki, but his anger you could handle. You weren’t quite sure about it with respect to Thor.

“You did what? You aren’t supposed to be here! You are going back to Asgard before anyone sees you.” He held you by your elbow and it hurt like hell. “But Thor,...” you tried pleading. Maybe you had not guessed the extent of your family’s anger correctly and you knew you were going to pay for it badly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He said in an impersonal tone. “You need to understand this is for your own good.” You were tired of listening to the same thing over and over again for so many years. And you finally snapped.

“Tell me the truth Thor! I know that’s not the only reason, why don’t you people want me to come here? Does... does Loki have a mistress here? Huh? I’m so sick of listening to you people give me all kinds of stupid reasons to keep me away from here! You know, if maybe you had not reinforced the fact that I’m not allowed to visit Midgard again and again, then maybe I wouldn’t be so obsessed with coming here.” You couldn’t hold your tears back.

“It’s not what you are thinking, trust me sister, Loki only loves you. But we need to go now and don’t use your powers on me.” You snatched your hand away from him. He was correct in guessing your intentions, you were going to use your powers on him to make him say the truth. But his anger held you back. After all, he was your family, and this visit to earth was just three days long.

“There’s one catch; you can’t take me back. I told you, I’ve made a deal with Heimdall. It includes that He won’t open the Bifrost for me to leave Earth until the evening of the third day!”

~~~

The Avengers were all gathered in the briefing room. Thor was coming back and they needed to discuss an important upcoming mission. As Steve stood telling everyone about the mission, they could hear the tell-tale noise of the rainbow tunnel as they called it.

Tony yawned loudly and stood up from his chair, he was least bit interested in the meeting and just wanted to get out. “Thor is here. We should go meet him.” He said stretching. Steve rolled his eyes, while Nat and Clint got up.

“We can continue, Thor knows where to come.” Steve interjected. “I guess Tony is right on this one.” Wanda said shrugging. Before they could continue, they heard the noise of Thor and a lady arguing. Her voice was vaguely familiar.

“Let’s go!” Tony said excitedly as he hoped to get a little more spice on this dull day. Reluctantly even Steve joined the entire group as they walked outside. Thor was facing them and from his gestures even they knew he was truly angry. The lady had her back to them, her golden magic swirling around her hand, showing her anger and annoyance at Thor. She was dressed in the finest fabric.  

Thor stood still and suddenly stopped fighting as he saw literally all of the Avengers looking at the two of them with keen interest. You saw his stunned and somewhat worried expression, so before he could stop you whipped your head around.

The moment you turned, Steve’s heart stopped in his chest. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This was not true; this couldn’t be true. You were just like in his dreams, if not more beautiful. Your eyes pulled him in like sirens calls. Your voice a sweet balm on his heartache. You looked like a goddess, and he was sure you were one. But, how could you possibly be here? So very real, standing in front of him in all your grace, just as if to taunt him.

You tilted your head in confusion, all of them, literally all of them were staring at you as if they had seen a dead person walk out of the grave. “Uh, well, you must be the Avengers I’ve heard so much about! It was rude of us to fight out here, and I apologize for the commotion. Let me introduce myself, I’m Y/N, The Queen of Asgard and the wife of the beloved King Loki.”

As you said the words, all of the Avengers’ eyes widened with confusion, as fear and anger gripped their hearts.

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.3

As it turns out, poison did not kill her. Not by a long shot. Not if the numerous tests with different kinds of poisons were to be believed.

Nicole was currently bent over the sink placed in the corner of Miranda's lab, her assistant hovering behind her with a timer in hand. What was it this time? Hemlock? Belladonna?

She stopped caring when a new wave of blood carrying the replaced tissue from internal damage came rising in her esophagus. With a disgusting gag, it came splashing onto the white porcelain, now stained and coated in crimson multiple times over. She coughed, trying not to let any of the burning mixture remain stagnant in her throat, and focused on the feeling of her body healing itself. It felt, for lack of a better word, like static coursing through her nerves and organs. After that too was gone, and the only thing that remained was the nauseating coppery taste in her mouth, she raised a shaky hand, too tired to speak up.

"Seven minutes, thirty four seconds," Emma announced.

Mother Miranda noted it down, fingers typing quickly over the keyboard.

It was a miracle that Nicole was still able to stand, although leaning a good part of her body weight on the sink thankfully secured to the wall did help. She took a few deep breaths, doing her best to not sound too croaky when she spoke.

"Can I see the results once we're done?"

She could keep track of everything herself of course, but it got difficult when her body was fighting toxins meant to shut it down. And she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't dying of curiosity.

"It's none of your concern," Miranda replied coldly.

That got a scowl to appear on thin blood stained lips, partially hidden by her hunched position. "I stood here quietly while you shoved pill after pill made from every poisonous plant you could get your hands on down my throat. At least grant me the grace of knowing my own body's limitations."

Her reply was little more than a tongue click. She couldn't help a scoff when Miranda simply ignored her request and told her assistant to continue with the next test on their list. Emma picked up one of the numerous pill bottles lined on her employer's desk and came over to Nicole, who unceremoniously grabbed one pill and swallowed it before looking at the label. Cyanide.

Oh for fuck's sake.

Her body's reaction was immediate, heart starting to beat painfully quick while her head started to spin. It was nauseating, the ache seeming to flood her chest and going up her spine in a searing migraine. Not to mention the deep breaths that didn't seem deep enough, as air itself seemed choking, the oxygen not quite reaching where it should. Mild panic started to settle in when black splotches began to cloud her vision and the tingling sensation seemed to battle with the pain for dominance. Before she knew it, her shaky legs gave out under her and the white ceiling of the lab blurred out of focus.

---

She woke up with a start, the bluish lights a painful glare to her eyes. The sound of ticking stopped and Nicole realized it was Emma's timer. She looked down at herself, haphazardly placed on a bed and then at Miranda, typing down a result the ringing in her ears hadn't allowed her to hear. With a few shakes of her head to try and chase the fog in her brain, Nicole finally croaked out: "What the hell happened?"

"The cyanide was damaging cells and keeping them from taking in any oxygen at a slightly faster rate than those cells were getting replaced. Which caused you to lose consciousness."

Miranda's tone was just as cold and clinical as ever, but a slight smirk tugged at her lips when she continued, the excited scientists buried under the mask of a goddess showing a crumb of itself.

"Although I'm quite certain we solved the mystery behind the accelerated heart rate. All previous tests show that it takes no longer than a few minutes to recover, while this took over twenty five."

Nicole was still fighting some mild dizziness, but she put all the focus on Miranda's words.

"We'll have to rerun the tests under anesthesia, but for now it's safe to assume the healing slows down while unconscious."

She acknowledged the theory with an oh. She wasn't really capable of much conversation at the moment, but she let the thought be metaphorically chewed in her brain. That made sense. If healing was slower after passing out, then her body had a damn good reason to keep her awake, hence the unnaturally high heart rate.

A slow shuddring sigh was let out when Miranda asked her assistant to prepare the anesthetic, laying back down. At least she wouldn't be awake for this one.

It took around double the normal dose to finally get her unconscious. She kept her eyes glued to the needle embedded in her arm until her vision was starting to fail her, the surrounding room becoming nothing more than dark blurs and vague beeping sounds.

People do not dream under anesthesia.

Nicole knew that of course. But as the lab blurred into odd shapes and more or less familiar places, there wasn't really a better word to describe it. Perhaps a result, she would later muse, of her overactive brain, fighting for consciousness at any given moment as it now had an instinctual need to stay awake.

That need manifested itself in the vague image of one of the castle's hallways. It was in an old wing, not frequently used by many other than the cleaning staff. She was walking along the wall, using it to compensate for her wobbly legs, and looked around for something. What exactly, was beyond her comprehension at the moment, but that didn't stop her from stumbling inside each room on her path, looking around the bright and beautifully decorated space, only to exit and continue down the hallway.

Something. Something ugh.

Nicole tried not to lean on the wall too much when she got to the golden frame of a painting, not wanting to risk damaging it. Slowly walking around, she threw a glance at the canvas when she was fully in front of it. She frowned.

It was the familiar portrait of all three sisters, dressed in period appropriate clothing and hair up into small curls. Their eyes, painted in such a way that they seemed to follow any onlookers around, greeted her with soft expressions. Some details seemed different though. They were small, and it took a bit of effort to notice how the brushstrokes seemed to have shifted ever so slightly in places. A familiar rose tattoo was present, albeit quite faint, on each of their foreheads, and their features seemed a little less soft and more akin to how Alcina would paint them. Nicole stopped to look at Cassandra's hand for a little longer, as if something was supposed to have changed there too. But before she had time to dwell on that, the realization that the painting should not be there dawned on her. Why would Alcina move it? And to a near abandoned wing of the castle no less. If she remembered correctly, that portrait had been at the main entrance for decades.

Nevermind that, she could just ask Alcina herself if they crossed paths. She kept walking down the hallway, trying to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that something was off. Off, like the slightly misplaced furniture, or the lack of certain decorations, or antique objects that she knew for a fact were on display on a completely different wing. No, Nicole kept looking through every room she came across, in search of something her foggy mind couldn't quite grasp the memory of.

She finally reached one of the more populated areas, and although still not fully able to grasp her surroundings and walk around without any support, a shiver still ran down her spine. The off-putting feeling turned to dread with the realization that she was completely alone. No maid or other staff member has crossed paths with her in what felt like an eternity. No sound could be heard aside from her own breathing and a faint beeping coming from outside. At that moment, Nicole longed for the sound of giggling or the shuffling of a broom, hell even the sound of lycans howling outside. Anything.

By that point, shuffling against the wall felt more of a psychological need than a physical one. There was a fear that accompanied anyone when you found yourself in a place that seemed so unlike its normal self, and Nicole tried to make herself smaller than she already was in the eventuality that something would pounce out from the silence and tear her to shreds.

She found herself traversing another corridor littered with numerous doors to guest bedrooms or simply storage rooms. Each was opened one by one, whatever laid behind it inspected, and then shut again. Rinse and repeat. Repeat until Nicole found herself in front of an oddly familiar door. It had nothing special, the crest and color exactly the same as the ones she had left behind, but its position seemed to tug at her memories.

The door was pushed open, a slight creak accompanying the movement, and Nicole found herself in a well lit office. It was obviously a rarely used one, the shelves only holding a small number of oddly organized files and boxes, while the chair was tucked under a large desk. The plush carpet underfoot caught her attention, beautiful black, white and golden motifs waved around each other in an intricate pattern. She walked across it, up to the desk and crouched down to run her fingers on the old worn wood of small drawers. The iron handles used to open them seemed to be gone from all but the topmost one, which she opened slowly.

Oh.

The drawer was empty save for two familiar objects, a pair of matching rings with minuscule branches in flower engraved on them. She picked them both up but almost dropped them back when a set of hurried footsteps sliced through the dead silence just outside the room.

There was no time to scramble for a hiding spot, especially not with how her head started to spin the moment she stood up again. All she could do was put the hand that wasn't holding the rings on the desk to support herself and watch as the door swung open.

A sigh of relief flew past cracked lips at the sight of confused golden eyes framed by dark locks of hair. Cassandra was standing at the entrance, head cocked slightly to the side.

"Did you lose it again?"

There was a hint of annoyance in her tone, but it was mostly drowned out by an amused chuckle as she walked up to her.

"No, I-..." Did I? "I'm sorry."

Cassandra simply took one of the bands and wordlessly slid it on Nicole's ring finger, gesture that was imitated in turn.

"Why are they here?" Nicole's question was barely a whisper, either due to the dizziness she felt or the cemetery-like silence that almost demanded not to be disturbed. "I know I instructed the staff to bring mine to my room if they find it."

"Oh it wasn't any of the staff members," Cassandra replied matter of factly, even waving a hand to dismiss the apparently absurd idea.

"Then who?"

"I don't know."

Nicole frowned. She pinched the bridge of her nose trying to chase away the eerie feeling that seemed to have made its roots deep inside her mind. Cassandra's voice seemed off, and that beeping from earlier seemed to close in ever so slightly.

"Why here?" She repeated.

Her wife only shrugged and looked around the room, taking her time with the reply.

"Isn't this where we first saw each other?"

Right. That's why the office was so familiar. The memory of Lady Dimitrescu, so beyond intimidating at the time, sitting in the chair and interviewing her for a maid's position came flooding her foggy brain. Then the giggles and the rather dramatic entry and the small bickering.

"Are you waking up?"

If Cassandra wasn't so close to her, she would've thought a third person had spoken. Her wife's voice seemed off before, but now it didn't even sound like her own. Familiar, yes, but the regal icy tone belonged to someone else.

Nicole tried to instinctively put some space between them, only for Cassandra's expression to twist with concern, furrowed brows over soft golden, always so uncharacteristically soft when pointed at her. Cassandra opened her mouth to speak again, but the beeping came in louder, almost as if making its way from her throat with the sole purpose of attempting to bust her eardrums.

The room seemed to rapidly bleed out of focus, details replaced by black dots and blurry lines. Cassandra's shape slowly morphed, her beautiful black dress leaving way to a plain lab coat and golden eyes turning into icy green, ever calculating and scrutinizing. Incessant beeps from the cardiac monitor brought her back to consciousness more rudely than she would've liked.

Nicole shook her head slightly, trying to chase away the last effects of anesthesia. Her body seemed eager to oblige, quickly trying to wake up and be back on her feet. Not that she had any intention of actually getting up, but soon enough, she was looking around the space and all the pristine equipment held within. Emma was busy arranging vials and pill bottles inside a cabinet while Miranda was by the bed typing away, nails annoyingly loud on the keyboard. She shook her head once again, and looked to the opposite wall, where a clock was ticking. It was almost 11 p.m. and Nicole let out a soft groan thinking about how she'd been under anesthesia for about three hours and how her family was probably waiting for her to get back.

She laid her head on the uncomfortable pillow while waiting for the goddess wannabe to be done with her observations on her current lab rat, which meant Nicole, and finally dismiss her.

It took a moment to realize that Miranda had turned towards her and pushed her laptop close to the side of the desk, screen facing Nicole. After receiving a confused look, the woman rolled her eyes as if she were a teacher explaining basic maths for the hundredth time.

"You wanted to see the results."

Nicole's confused expression did not change, though now it was more directed towards the suspicious willingness to give what she asked for. Nonetheless she scooted to the side of the bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge, and she narrowed her eyes at the file on the screen.

---

Date: 23rd April 2012

Subject: Nicole [REDACTED] Dimitrescu

Mutation experiments - 2 (Regeneration - 2)

Resistance and healing time to various poisonous plants (in the form of highly concentrated pills or injectable) and other toxins. First number refers to the healing time while conscious and the second while unconscious.

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - 2'13" // 6'30"

Rosary pea (Abrus precatorius) - 2'20" // 7'02"

Crowbane (Cicuta virosa) - 2'40" // 7'12"

Wolfsbane (Aconitum lycoctonum) - 3'30" // 8'11"

Hemlock (Conium maculatum) - 3'18" // 8'28"

Oleander (Nerium oleander) - 3'55" // 10'17"

Ricin (Ricinus communis) - 5'58" // 16'19"

Arsenic, 100mg - 7'34" // 21'38"

Cyanide, 50mg - / // 26'53"

[allthingskenobi]

Obi-Wan in Exile – Vader

(Originally published on AllThingsKenobi.com December 13, 2020)

Welcome to the first in a series of looks into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s time in exile on Tatooine between Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. We’ve tried to mine as much Legends and canon material as possible to help guide you through some of the period’s most common and repetitive themes so that when the new Obi-Wan Kenobi series airs, you’ll be ready.

Not everything he ever did in the entire 19 years will be explored here, but as we said, we’ve tried our best to pick out the most prominent and impactful moments to give everyone a better understanding of exactly what one hermit had to endure out there all alone in the sandy deserts of Tatooine.

While Vader himself was not a common reoccurrence throughout Obi-Wan’s exile, the threat of him certainly was…well until now that is. As Vader so often does, he’s recently made his way back to the forefront of the story and will seemingly loom very large over the upcoming series, thus moving us to start with exactly what that might mean for Obi-Wan and how it might work with the canon boundaries we currently have. Yes, we understand that canon can change and probably will, but we do love a challenge.

“Vader,” Obi-Wan muttered. “Vader’s alive.”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

Let’s start at the beginning. We have one instance in Legends where we see Obi-Wan learn that Vader survived Mustafar and it comes mere months after his exile on Tatooine begins. He first hears the name “Vader” mentioned again on the HoloNet during one of his trips into Mos Eisley and nearly faints before panicking to find a way to take Luke and run. (1) This early recognition seems to be reconfirmed in later canon as one of Ben’s greatest fears in the third year of his exile continued to be “sand crunching beneath heavy black boots, a dark cape billowing in the desert squall, the mechanical wheeze of a respirator.” (2) So will we see Obi-Wan only just learning of Vader’s fate in the tenth year of his exile? I’d say that’s highly doubtful unless the show provides a flashback for us—which we will gladly accept.

“Instead, Padmé was dead and Obi-Wan was running for his life, as stripped of everything as Vader was. Without friends, family, purpose…”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

At the same time, Vader was also very convinced that Obi-Wan was still alive and would remain so despite his greatest efforts. Because if there was one thing Vader was good at it, it was holding a grudge like he held a lightsaber, and he would expend quite a bit of energy over the 19 years between episodes III and IV searching for his old Master. (Just ask anyone he comes across in the comics.) Oh, and let’s not forget that it’s also Vader who would later inform a disbelieving Tarkin, in no uncertain terms, that Obi-Wan was still alive and on the Death Star. (3)

“No, I can’t [leave],” Ben said, firmly. “I must be here.”

KENOBI BY JOHN JACKSON MILLER L

“The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

Now that we’ve established that they both knew of each other’s survival, it begs the question as to why their paths never actually crossed in 19 years. Personally, I think it’s fairly simple: Obi-Wan would never leave Tatooine and Vader would never go anywhere near it. We will discuss Obi-Wan not leaving Tatooine more in-depth at a later time (and yes, we know what Ewan said about having a ‘rollicking time’), but Vader would canonically never visit his home planet until well after Obi-Wan and Luke were both gone. (4)(5) And by then it was much too late.

That brings us to the most recent ‘Obi-Wan Kenobi’ news and how that fits in with what Legends and canon have told us so far. We received a lot of exciting and thought-provoking announcements in a short amount of time, and frankly, our minds haven’t stopped spinning since. Could the show undo what we currently assume to be true? Yes. Could the show work within those same parameters? Also, yes. Do I personally have any idea what’s going to happen? No. DO I THINK THE SHOW IS GOING TO BE AMAZING NO MATTER WHAT? Y E S. The goal of this exercise is to simply try and reconcile the new details to the existing Star Wars lore because I think that’s what makes it interesting. So you can take it or leave it. The choice is yours. (Until it isn’t because the show has aired and this is all pointless.)

HERE WE GO.

“[Deborah] Chow confirmed that audiences will “definitely see Obi-Wan and Darth Vader get into it again” as we see the blue blade of a hooded Obi-Wan clash with the fiery red blade of Darth Vader.”

“McGregor knows the battle will be eagerly anticipated, and he’s looking forward to performing it just as much: “Having another swing at each other might be quite satisfying for everybody. We hope that you enjoy it as much as we’re going to enjoy making it.””

DEBORAH CHOW AND EWAN MCGREGOR DURING THE DISNEY INVESTOR’S REEL

Not only was the “Hayden Christensen returning as Darth Vader” bombshell dropped in our laps, but we were also fed the above morsels (not once but thrice) and told to digest them. Our first reaction was a hearty and well-deserved cry of rejoicing until the realization of what this could all mean set in and it turned into a hearty and well-deserved sob.

There’s hardly a way to be disappointed in the fact that we will see Ewan and Hayden not only together again, but “getting into it” as well, but we do have to wonder what this means for the moment where Obi-Wan and Vader face each other again on the Death Star. The moment is not only pivotal to Episode IV, but I would argue, the entire saga. And it’s made even more impactful by the fact that the two men have not physically confronted each other since their fateful battle on Mustafar.

What we do know, and that which should not change, is that Vader never knew where Obi-Wan was hiding nor that he had Luke, his son, with him. That tells me two things: whatever kind of “rematch” happens here does not endanger Luke’s safety in the long run nor is it probably something that would occur more than once. I think what we’re going to see happen is isolated and “unexpected,” occurring only once ten years into Obi-Wan’s exile.

You: But, All Things Kenobi, if they could never physically meet on Tatooine or elsewhere, then what does this all mean??

Us: Do we look like Deborah Chow or Ewan McGregor? Do we have all the answers for you? NO! But can we try to help ease your mind until the show airs and I’m proven all sorts of wrong?? YES! SO PUT ON THAT TINFOIL HAT AND LET’S DO THIS!!

“I sense something. A presence I’ve not felt since…”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

“Obi-Wan once thought as you do.”

STAR WARS EPISODE VI: RETURN OF THE JEDI C

Instantly our minds turned to these two particular comments from Vader in Episodes IV and VI. They’ve always stood out as peculiar, demanding explanation, but even more so now. The first is a vague, open-ended statement that leaves us to assume they hadn’t met again since they parted on the slopes of Mustafar. The second is a seemingly wistful reminiscence of a memory Vader has of his old master.

Luke had just finished making a heartfelt plea for Anakin to remember his “true self” then says, “come with me.” Where did Obi-Wan make the same appeal to only be shunned by Vader as well? Is it possible the series will show us this after all these years and possibly solve the riddle of both enigmatic statements at once? Is it possible that any such conversation might quickly devolve into another lightsaber-fueled clash??

“Count Dooku was Yoda’s apprentice.”

“And Count Dooku has fallen to the dark side.”

“All of us have apprenticed to Master Yoda.”

“He cannot be held accountable for Dooku’s descent.”

“But they are connected. Profoundly.”

THE CLONE WARS 6×11 “VOICES” C

A distinct bond exists between each Padawan and Master and unfortunately that bond does not disappear when one or the other becomes a Sith Lord. Despite the bond between Obi-Wan and Anakin being firmly closed at both ends, there’s no doubt that a presence remains. And even the most sturdy walls might crack from time to time.

Even after 19 years apart, Vader is quick to recognize when Obi-Wan is nearby and goes so far as to know his intent. “Escape is not his plan. I must face him alone.” And he’s right. (3) As for Obi-Wan, the Force has plagued him with dreams and visions, even showing him “a limbless wreck hanging in a bacta tank, necrotic skin pallid and scarred.” (2)

Could their strong connection be the vehicle that allows Obi-Wan and Anakin to confront each other once more? Within the Force they could not only converse, but we could also see them “take another swing” at each other without any physical consequences no matter who “wins.” The mental toll would also make for great drama for both men and bring a new perspective and emotional weight to several scenes in the Original Trilogy.

“If you loved me, Obi-Wan, you would have killed me.”

STAR WARS: DARTH VADER 24 BY KIERON GILLEN C

Finally, it’s quite possible that Obi-Wan might not physically be involved at all in their “rematch” and it might be entirely from Vader’s perspective. One theory could be as simple as the fact that Vader once had a training droid whose deadliest combat setting took the form of his former master. (Oh, Anakin.) (6) Another theory, and a much more likely one, could be that Vader has a Force vision or dream that allows him to recreate and relive various moments between himself and Obi-Wan, including, but not limited to, another lightsaber battle. This would be interesting to witness as every time it occurs, it means that Vader is wrestling with Anakin.

Although the Obi-Wan that continues to exist in Anakin’s psyche doesn’t seem too different from the real thing, just imagine Ewan McGregor getting to play Obi-Wan from Anakin’s point of view…I’ll just drop my mic there.

Star Wars: Darth Vader 24 by Kieron Gillen (2016) C

Star Wars: Darth Vader 5 by Charles Soule (2017) C

Citations:

(1) Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader by James Luceno L

(2) “Time of Death” – From A Certain Point of View by Cavan Scott C

(3) Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope C

(4) Star Wars: Darth Vader 2016 by Kieron Gillen C

(5) Star Wars: Darth Vader 2020 by Greg Pak C

(6) Star Wars: The Force Unleashed (2008) by Haden Blackman L

[tooruluv]

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,855

warnings/notes: i would like to say that the "soulmate au but only when you're actually in love" thing is not my idea! i don't know who's idea it was, and i'm sure it was created by several people, but i just wanted to tell you all that i wish i was that creative but, unfortunately, i am not. so! i wanted to give credit where credit is do! moving on to the fic! <3 enjoy, loves

tag list: @vhskenma​ @elianetsantana​ @mini-eggs-reads​

| next

masterlist

“ you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you ” - can’t take my eyes off of you, frankie vallie

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

Kei Tsukishima did not believe in falling in love. Sure, he believed in loving things, but being in love sounded absolutely ridiculous. The entire basis of love, relationships… it just never made any sense to him.

You, on the other hand, very well might have your heart placed on your sleeve. You had a million crushes, a constant new person in your focus. The thing was, you had never seen color.

Color only came to those who fell in love. Through those crushes, through those varying false relationships and games of spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven, you had never actually fallen in love.

It was becoming frustrating.

While Tsukishima was perfectly content in living in a world without love, in the same greyscale life he had always known, while you were drowning trying to find someone to hang onto.

What strange friends you were.

Well, not friends, per say. But acquaintances for sure. A comfortable relationship between the two of you full of eye contact, your flirtations, and his constant coming into your coffee shop.

If we had to name a beginning, it started the first week of the summer.

You were working at a coffee shop, this little place called Blu. It was a simple corner shop, squished in between two other buildings. You just wanted a summer job to pass by time and get some money, nothing permanent.

Until, one day a tall boy with glasses walked into the place.

He looked bored out of his mind as his eyes scanned the menu above your head. He didn’t say anything when you greeted him (“Welcome to Blu! What can I get for you today?” in your best customer service voice), nor did he say anything when you handed him his coffee. He only spoke to you once, a monotone “I’ll take a black coffee” when he ordered.

You were absolutely infatuated.

One, because who orders a plain black coffee in the middle of the summer? And two, he was cute.

He had to be your age, you decided. Though most kids your age would never get a plain black coffee, and he was pretty tall, he had the youth you did. You just knew.

“Kei!” you called for his order. He didn’t even look into your eyes.

This was a repeat occurrence throughout the rest of the summer, every morning. Sometimes he would say something more, like add a little “Hello.” before ordering. Or he would steal glances at you, and there would be a staring contest for a moment or two.

Occasionally, he even muttered “thank you” when you handed him the mug. Call it what you want, but you called it “progress”.

One particular morning, he was dressed up. You didn’t know what for, you didn’t know much about him as it were, and all you could do was admire. He was stunning in a dark suit, the greyscale doing nothing but bring out how handsome he looked in it.

“Well, don’t you look ravishing today?” You flirted, already moving to get his black coffee. “The usual?”

He gave a small nod, not reacting to your compliment. He had his hands in his pockets, and a dangly earring in one ear.

“Well, here you go.” You handed him the mug. “One plain black coffee for Kei. Don’t spill it on yourself.”

“I would never.” He said. His voice was still monotone, but you caught it. A small quip in the corner of his lip. You almost got him to smile.

However, most mornings it was the same thing. He would come in, order a black coffee for “Kei”, and sit near the window and scroll through his phone through sips. You would watch as the sun created lighter greys along his skin and hair, you would watch as the glare gleamed off of his glasses.

Oh, how you wished you could see the color of his hair.

And, one day, you did.

It was a usual summer day. Autumn was approaching fast, so cool wind started to battle against the sun. But he came in nonetheless; Kei, with his black coffee. Except, this time was different.

“Welcome back, stranger.” You greeted, smiling as bright as you could. You didn’t even ask him what he wanted, you were already getting the black coffee ready behind the counter.

“I’ll take a black coffee.” he said, monotone and normal.

But, it wasn’t normal, not even the slightest bit. Because when you looked up to hand him his coffee, you were met with an array of colors.

You had to blink a few times, just to make sure that you were seeing what you were seeing. The colors were faded, newly forming, but they were still very much there. He had light yellow hair. No. “Blonde” was the word you were looking for.

He was frozen too, just standing there. But then you realized that you were just staring, his coffee in your hands. He must’ve thought you were insane.

“Kei, can I ask you something?” you asked, not wanting to hand him his drink yet. You weren’t one to let your questions go unanswered.

For a moment, he blinked at you. He definitely had to think you were insane. “What?”

“Do you see color?”

If you saw color as you looked at him, you hoped that maybe… maybe he saw color when he looked at you.

“No.”

Right. Of course not.

“Okay. Thanks! I was just wondering.” you handed him the mug, plastering a fake smile on your face (partly for the sake of customer service, and mainly to cover your disappointment). “Enjoy!”

He gave you one last look over, one last glance, before going to his usual spot by the window.

The thing was, you were hoping that he did. You know how ridiculous it sounded, being in love with someone who only spoke a couple of sentences to you. But you couldn’t deny that spending the entire summer excited to see that one person at work… it made sense that you would be.

You just weren’t expecting the colors to arrive right before you leave the job. The perfect time to fall for someone you will probably never see again once you leave and return to school and sports full-time.

Love really does come when you least expect it.

For the rest of that day, you spent your time finding as many colors as you could. You didn’t want it to go away, though it was a likely chance. The colors go away when the love does.

You had to look up what some of the colors were. It was strange to be taught the colors without ever seeing them, and your parents had explained how some colors look, but it was completely different. It was like each of them had their own feeling.

But, even then, you only witnessed the faded versions of those colors. The sky was a pale blue, hidden by the grey clouds. The grass was almost yellow, and the shop you worked at was a soft brown. Everything was still hidden by the greyscale you were accustomed to. And you couldn’t help but want to see more, see them in their full color.

Maybe falling completely and utterly in love would be an amazing thing.

It was comparable to the sun and moon, the relationship between you and Kei Tsukishima. You danced around each other, hoping to chase the light the other brought.

When you worked the next morning, your usual boy didn’t show up. Your eyes searched for him every time the small ding of the bell above the door announced someone entering. But it was never him.

Sighing, you ended your last shift there. Maybe you would come back as a customer, order a drink that has way too much sugar, and sit in his spot in hopes he would show up and sit with you. Or maybe you would run into him on your way out.

Or not.

As you hung up your apron for the last time, gave your manager your nametag and said your last goodbyes to your favorite coworkers, you accepted the fact that the colors would leave soon. They very well couldn’t stay if you end up falling out of love with a boy you would never see again.

It had been months.

Months, and the colors didn’t leave and didn’t grow any brighter. You were stuck in a world where everything was filtered to be faded, and you were growing annoyed.

“Just fucking go away already.” you spoke to the universe.

You would rather live in a world without color than live in a world of almost.

“Everyone!” Daichi called for the team to join him. They obeyed. “Now that Coach Ukai is our official coach, he’s come up with an idea. I think it’s pretty good, so hear him out.” Daichi announced. He turned to their coach, letting him speak.

“Alright, guys.” Ukai crossed his arms. “We have some tournaments this weekend. So do some of the other sports teams, specifically the girls volleyball teams and the softball and baseball teams.”

Tsukki was bored. What did softball and baseball have to do with volleyball? Their season isn’t for months, anyway. They have plenty of time before actual games.

“So, I’ve talked with the softball and baseball coaches and they think that it’s a good idea for us to team up for some fundraising things the next couple of weeks so we can get buses.” Ukai explained. “And, on top of that, someone from the softball team said that they would help us with volleyball practices after softball, since we typically end later than they do.”

“Wait, softball?” Tanaka gaped. “So a girl’s gonna be helping us?”

“A girl already does help us, dumbass.” Tsukki rolled his eyes. Kiyoko did too, but subtly.

“Yeah, she’ll be here in a couple of minutes so I wanted to give a warning.” Ukai said. “She’s in her first year, too, but I expect respect. Alright, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on with practice.”

Okay, cool. Now back to practice. The reason they’re there to begin with.

They practiced for a bit, going through drills and did a bit of half-assed running (which Tsukki still never understood, why would he have to run miles if he’s just a blocker?). Until a girl walked in.

It was you.

You were here, at Karasuno, at his practice.

You walked in, still in your softball practice uniform. Every time that he had seen you during the summer, you never had your hair down. But, when you walked into the gym and greeted Coach Ukai with a smile, your hair was down and messy from the wind.

Everyone else had noticed Tsukki had stopped in his tracks and dropped what they were doing, turning their heads to see what he was looking. Or rather, who. Now you had the entire team’s attention.

That was when you caught his eye.

His breathing stopped. And so did yours.

[pregnant-piggy]

Two trees (1/3)

Harry Potter x reader, modern high school AU

This is part of All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

Words: 3k

A/N: this fic is mostly based on my experiences with school theatre. I have joined twice in my school’s plays a few years back and i can only wish it was like this

Every year the school would do a Christmas production on the day before the Christmas break. And every year your friends managed to convince you to join them in it. But they all had something valuable to add, you had nothing. Lavender had great acting skills and she would undoubtedly get the leading part, like she had last year. Parvati was part of the technics team, so she didn’t even had to sign up for anything. And your best friend Dean had helped write the script, so he was settled too. You on the other hand had nothing. No acting skills, not a writer’s hand and no sense of technicality.

So when the day came that the roles were announced, you were slightly anxiously sitting in the school’s theatre, while your friends were chatting excitedly around you. The row in front of you was taken by a group of giggling girls and in the row before that were some other guys from your year seated.

‘Harry and Ron lost a bet,’ Dean explained when he noticed you were surprised to find those boys there. ‘They had made a bet with Neville and Seamus and lost. So they had to audition for the play.’

You chuckled and averted your gaze from the boys. Soon afterwards Mrs Stanley came to the stage and a silence fell over all who were in the theatre. Mrs Stanley was, despite the fact that you didn’t have classes from her, one of your favourite teachers. She was always kind to everyone and she hadn’t laughed at you when you had auditioned for the play.

She started to name the characters in the play, called The more the merrier, starting with the leading parts.

‘The role for Amy goes to Lavender Brown!’ Mrs Stanley said and Lavender beamed with happiness. ‘And the part of her opponent, Jacob, goes to Ron Weasley!’

Two rows in front of you three of the four boys started to laugh. The back of Ron’s neck turned as red as his hair and Neville almost fell from his chair laughing so hard.

Next to you Lavender and Parvati started to protest. Lavender had gotten up and was staring angrily down at the four boys. Parvati pulled her back down, while giving the boys a nasty glare. She took Lavender in an embrace and shot you a questioning glare over her shoulder. You shrugged back and turned to Dean.

‘Ron?’

‘Yeah, he was actually really good,’ said Dean, who had been at the auditions. ��He surprised everyone.’

You looked at Ron and his friends, who were still laughing at him. Your gaze shifted to the mop of black hair that was sitting next to him. You had gotten to know Harry better since he was seated next to you in your history class, because he had been talking too much with Seamus. Despite what his lazy attitude made you believe, he was actually a really nice guy. And smart. He had surprised you with the comments he had made during class.

The rest of the parts were divided too and with every name that was called and that wasn’t yours, you felt both relieved and disappointed. Not disappointed because you had expected a part in the play, but because you wished to have this experience with your friends. You had missed it all those years and they always talked about how much fun it was to be part of ‘the crew’, as they called it.

‘And the last parts, go to y/f/n and Harry Potter!’

You started from your daze and stared at Mrs Stanley. Did she just say your name? You turned to Dean, who was smiling at you. ‘Welcome to the crew!’

‘I am part of the crew?’ you whisper-yelled. ‘I am in the play?’ Dean laughed and nodded as he put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a hug.

The group of boys two rows below you were laughing again, but this time only half of them were. Neville actually fell from his seat this time and Seamus was pointing at Harry while the tears streamed down his face.

‘The rehearsals are every Thursday at four and I expect you all to be there! Please take the sheet with roles with you when you leave the place!’ Mrs Stanley said and she placed a stack of papers on the stage before she left.

Together with your friends you went down and got a piece of paper. On the top of the list stood indeed Lavender and Ron as the main roles. You heard Lavender sigh behind you, while you searched for your own name. Totally on the bottom you found it after the role you were playing.

‘A tree? I’m a tree?’

You turned around to Dean, who was grinning at you. ‘It was the only way to get you in.’

‘A tree?’ you repeated and looked back at the sheet. ‘Do I even have lines?’

‘You do, you do,’ Dean reassured you. ‘You have a conversation with the other tree.’

‘Of course, because one tree’s not enough! Who is my worthy opponent then?’

‘Me,’ a voice behind you said.

You turned around and were faced with Harry. He had an easy smirk on his mouth as he pulled his hand through his hair. You looked at the sheet again. On the paper stood indeed, next to your name, Harry Potter.

‘Oh, great,’ you mumbled before you smiled at Harry. ‘Well, at least it’s nice to know there is someone just as bad as me.’

=-=-=-=

Apart from being a tree, you were excited for the play and the next Thursday rolled around quickly. You were waiting with Lavender and Parvati in the seats closest to the stage, talking about all and nothing while you waited for the rehearsal to start. Around you were mostly younger students, not a real big surprise as you kept in mind that you were in your final to last year. Two girls were sitting close to you and you listened with half an ear to their conversation. The girl closest to you, with two pigtails, was explaining to the other girl how her family had big expectations for her own future as an actress.

Your eavesdropping was cut short when Harry and Ron, both with long faces, sat down between you and the girls. You now completely stopped listening to Lavender and Parvati as they talked about Lavender’s new math tutor and turned to the two boys next to you.

‘Look who it is, Mr Prince Charming and my fellow tree companion,’ you said. ‘Looking forward to it?’

‘Mr Prince Charming?’ Ron asked confused.

‘Oh, that’s right,’ you said. ‘You don’t know what the play is about.’

Dean had told you as soon as you had gotten a part in the production. It was about a girl, Amy played by Lavender, who shows Prince Jacob, who loathes the holidays, how much happiness Christmas brings to the people. They cross the whole kingdom that belongs to Jacob’s father, King Samuel, together until Jacob is convinced that Christmas is indeed a happy time. In the end he invites everyone that he has come across over for a big Christmas dinner in his castle.

And no one less than Ron Weasley was to play Jacob; hence the Prince Charming.

‘You’ll see,’ you said and at the same time Mrs Stanley walked on the stage, silencing everyone in the theatre.

‘Good afternoon! I am so excited to see so many familiar and new faces! I have no doubt that this year we’ll perform an even better play than last year.’

Mrs Stanley divided the whole group in little ones of four people who had sort of the same roles. You were in a group with the two girls you had listened to earlier and Harry. The girl with the pigtails, who was supposed to be a great actress later, appeared to play the part of a lumberjack and her friend was her sheepdog. You quickly learned that their names were Jennifer and Kayla.

The groups were all given a scene not from the play and it was the exercise to change and play it so that it became an interesting scene. The text would be unaltered, but all the rest was up for change.

Jennifer suggested to make it a melodramatic piece, acting it as if it was the last thing you’d do. However, you and Harry decided against that already foreseeing the embarrassment that would cause the two of you.

‘What if we completely change the context?’ you proposed. ‘Say we make it night instead of day.’

‘And we could be in the woods instead the-’ Harry read the description at the top of the paper, ‘-kitchen.’

Soon your group was working on a way to make clear that it was dark and night and time flew by. After an hour it was time for all the groups to present their pieces. Lavender’s group was first. She was with Ron, since they had the biggest roles, and three other people. You knew how much Lavender despised Ron right now, but there was no trace of it in her acting. And it surprised you how well Ron could act. It was as if someone else was standing on the stage and not the Ron from your PE class this morning who was whining about the laps he had to run.

‘I didn’t know he could act,’ you whispered to Harry, who was sitting next to you.

‘That makes two of us,’ Harry mumbled back as he raised his eyebrow at his best friend acting out a loud scene on the stage.

There were three other groups after Lavender’s group and then it was your turn. As you stood on the stage with the paper in your hand, you regretted ever letting your friends convince you to join them. All eyes were at your group but you saw nothing from the bright lights that were pointed at you.

Luckily for you, the most lines were given to Jennifer and Kayla for they also had a bigger part in the official play. Harry and you stood in the background and occasionally had to shout a spooky word, but most attention was focused on the two girls in front of the stage.

‘But, oh! How could you do that? Please tell me!’ Jennifer shouted out and you had to hide your face behind the script so no one would see your laugh. On the other side of the stage, Harry wasn’t even trying to hide his smile and you gave him a scolding glare. He shrugged and nodded at Jennifer, who was now running around her friend, while this one was trying to recite her lines without betting too distracted by the running figure.

‘Very well, very well!’ Mrs Stanley said when you were done and the four of you were standing on the front of the stage. ‘I like the dramatic approach you have taken.’

‘Yes, we were very focused on that,’ Harry mumbled softly and you chuckled.

‘That was the final group! I am more than happy now I have seen you all act together and I can’t wait to start rehearse the actual play next week!’ Mrs Stanley said and she dismissed everyone from the theatre.

You walked off the stage and grabbed your bag. You took out your phone and saw that Dean had texted you twelve times, asking you how it was going.

‘It could always be worse,’ Harry said to you, pulling your attention from your phone.

‘That indeed, imagine if we had the leading parts,’ you said and laughed as you looked at the awkwardness between Ron and Lavender.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n,’ Harry said and he walked away to Ron, who was searching for him.

Lavender and Parvati immediately rushed over to you and looked at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes and lifted your bag over your shoulder. While they complained about Ron you left the theatre and headed in the direction of your locker. While you dropped the books you didn’t need at home, Parvati turned to you.

‘So, you and Harry?’

You sighed and closed your locker, leaning back against it. ‘There is no me and Harry,’ you said, lifting your hand to brush away a speck of dust from Parvati’s shoulder.

‘Right, well you obviously had some chemistry there in the back of the stage. Don’t think we didn’t see it, sweetie,’ Parvati said and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you with her to the exit of the school. Lavender followed behind.

‘Believe me, there is just as much chemistry between me and Harry as between Lavender and Ron.’

‘Ugh, why did he ever have to audition?!’ Lavender cried out.

=-=-=-=

The rehearsal got a lot more fun after you started with the actual play. With every week more and more started to come together. Despite the mutual annoyance, Lavender and Ron were a perfect couple and they nailed their parts.

Though you didn’t have a whole lot to do at the rehearsals; there was one scene you were in and you had only a few lines, it was fun to be at the rehearsals. You helped other people learn their lines and spent a lot of time with Harry, sitting in the back of the theatre and joke about the people that were rehearsing their scenes.

One or two times you were joined by Dean, but after he had seen that you were perfectly fine without him, he had decided that there were better things to spend his time on. Parvati was busy all the time with the lighting and sounds so she wasn’t around you a lot. Not that you minded, you had fun with Harry. He was perfect company and even made the boring scenes fun to watch.

In the past five weeks you had grown to him immensely. He had become a good friend of you. It felt like you had known him for much longer than you actually did. His humour matched yours and you felt he was more than relieved to have someone to go through this experience with.

Your scene with Harry was no longer than two minutes. You were two of the trees in the forest that Jacob and Amy travelled through. Jennifer, the lumberjack, and her dog, Kayla, would be on the point of chopping you down, when Jacob and Amy came by and saved you from your terrible fate.  ‘Thank you so much. You saved our lives,’ was your line and when Jacob would ask if you would like to join his feast, Harry’s line was: ‘Yes, please. It’d be a pleasure. Only if there was a way we could move.’ After which you both would be chopped down anyway.

At the sixth rehearsal you were helping a boy, Rick, learn his lines when Harry plopped down next to you, fifty minutes after the start of the rehearsal.

‘So, you just have to go over that last part and then I think you know it all,’ you said to Rick, who thanked you and hurried off to a quieter place to learn his lines. You turned to Harry. ‘Why are you so late?’

‘I had to stay behind with Seamus after our chemistry class,’ Harry explained and put out his arms. His fingers and hands were completely blue. ‘We spilled something and had to clean everything up.’

‘I want to feel sorry for you, but something tells me that you deserved it,’ you said with a small smirk.

‘Well, I’ll let you know that I rushed here immediately so you wouldn’t be alone. I didn’t even wash my hands.’

He brought his hands closer to your face and tried to bop your nose, but you caught his wrists and held his hands away from your face. He started to laugh and tried to get closer to you, but you were in a better position than he and managed to keep his hands away. However, just because his hands didn’t get any closer didn’t mean that his head couldn’t. Suddenly his face was so close to yours that you felt his breath on your skin. Something turned in your stomach and you stared at Harry a second too long.

You cleared your throat and dropped his hands. He leaned back, but since you were thrown off you didn’t notice his hand getting closer until it was touching your cheek. You felt the cold substance of whatever was on his hands leave a print on your cheek and your jaw dropped as you looked at Harry.

Before you could do anything, he had pressed both his palms against your cheeks, squeezing your face in between them. You started to sputter and pushed Harry’s hands away, but the damage was done. You didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that both your cheeks were now the same colour as Harry’s hands.

‘Harry and y/n? Your scene is up next!’ Mrs Stanley called from the front row.

You frowned and looked at Harry. He was staring at you in shock; neither of you had known that it was your scene that was to be practiced next.

Huffing you got up, trying to wipe the blue off your cheeks, but all that happened was that your hands were turning blue too now. And yet, you couldn’t help but laugh at your miserable situation. Harry, who had been rushing after you throwing apologies your way, was visibly relieved to see you smile at him.

‘It’s nothing, Harry,’ you said. ‘But I now do know that you absolutely deserved that detention.’

You went on stage and the bright light from the lamps on the ceiling shone in your face. You had to squeeze your eyes a little to make out where Mrs Stanley was sitting and you found her little away from you, looking at you with a strange expression.

‘What happened to your cheeks?’ she asked.

Next to you Harry put up his hands and showed his blue palms apologetically. ‘I might have stained y/n.’

‘Alright,’ Mrs Stanley said slowly while shaking her head. ‘Are you ready?’

----------

taglist:

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife @mt2413 @aesthetically-hailey @superbturtlemakerathlete @the-natureofme @missswriter

MASTERLIST

[yukipri]

Marco’s Bauble Part 7 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

I ended up spending most of this past weekend setting up the Mermaid AU on AO3, so I do hope y’all will check it out over there!

Please note that on AO3, this Marco’s Bauble story is going under the title On the Courtship of Monkey D. Luffy. I didn’t really know where this series was going when I began writing it, and “Marco’s Bauble” was most definitely a starting point, but it’s expanded well beyond that now, as you’ll probably see in this update ^ ^; I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll rename all the parts on Tumblr or not.

BUT in the meantime, I’ll continue posting updates in advance here on Tumblr (and on Patreon even further in advance ;D), so here’s an update for this week!

In which Sabo confronts Koala.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 4

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 5

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 6

~~

Hmm, Koala thinks. So this probably counts as a "kabedon."

A kabedon, according to the young new recruits who'd explained it to her, is a situation in which one person, ideally tall and attractive, leans over a second, ideally smaller person, boxing them against a wall with their arms, essentially pinning them in place. Koala thinks it sounds like menacing posturing, but the recruits insisted that if done by the right person, it's a terribly titillating scenario, the kind you'd find in romance stories.   

It happens to be the situation that Koala finds herself in now, with her back against the side of Merry's cabin as Sabo looms over her, effectively blocking all exits with his arms braced against the wall on either side of her.

Sabo, Koala grudgingly thinks, probably not only qualifies, but is likely the recruits' very definition of tall and attractive.   

Right now, he's doing that thing where his eyes are half-mast, dark and unreadable as they peer down at Koala through the curtain of blond locks that have fallen across his face. It's a look that Koala knows has half of Baltigo swooning, and she's heard people call it Chief's Sexy Look.   

Koala feels very strongly that those are a poor choice of words, because from personal experience, she knows it's a look that's usually followed immediate, brutal interrogation that often ends in screams and excessive bloodshed. 

"Koala," he breathes, in that voice that has stolen the hearts of half the Revolutionary Army, and has convinced more than one unfortunate soul that perhaps, they might survive this encounter after all.   

But Koala knows better.   

Because his next words are, surprise surprise, "What are you hiding from me about my Luffy?"

He smiles then, and it looks misleadingly gentle, and Koala can see why strangers may mistake him for a benevolent princely gentleman.   

But Koala knows Sabo. And all she sees is the manic sadism behind the oh so very fake expression.   

She cringes, because no, there is absolutely nothing romantic or exciting about this situation at all. All she feels is Doom.   

"Hmm?" she says, keeping her hands behind her back so he can't see them twist. In these situations, Koala's more than well aware that the more she talks, the more she incriminates herself.   

Many who observe their partnership are under the impression that Sabo's just the overpowered guy who beats people up and destroys shit, while Koala provides intel. And while it's true that Koala has intel, Sabo's the one who often personally extracts it from their most stubborn sources.   

In other words, what Sabo wants, he usually gets. It's usually a comforting thought, but not today.   

"Hmm?" Sabo parrots back, eyes lazily tracing over her face, and Koala frantically tries to keep her expression neutral as he searches for an opening. 

It's like when they were children, Koala thinks, when they played interrogation games with each other as assignments for Inazuma's class. Except this time, it's not Koala's grade on the line. And while Koala knows that her partner would never actually hurt her, he's also very capable of making life pretty miserable for her if she doesn't spill.   

And right now, she has a secret she'd really, really like to keep away from Sabo.

The secret being, y'know, the fact that someone proposed to his dearest baby brother.   

And even though it's extremely unlikely that Luffy understands the significance behind the gesture, she considers the gift hers, which, for all points and purposes...means she accepted.   

Koala does not want Sabo to find out about this, from her, at least right now, before she has more information.   

But, Koala glumly remembers, she's never actually managed to win any interrogation games against him.   

"You know," he says, voice deceptively light, and Koala wants to groan because here we go. "Luffy and Ace mean the world to me. They're not just my past, they make me who I am. Even when I didn't remember, they were with me, and I was with them. They're everything to me."   

Koala won't break. She tries to look for an opening without shifting her eyes, but Sabo's not an amateur and there are no escape routes.   

"It would truly be terrible, if something happened to one of them, something that should be stopped, that I could have prevented if only I had known."   

He's poking her defenses. He wants her to say, you're blowing this out of proportion, it's not that big a deal, or maybe you're overthinking this. Possibly even lie, I'm not hiding anything, or even counter, what makes you think I'm hiding something?   

Koala knows better. Those are all traps, all openings that he'd pounce on, and she's seen him rip people apart for falling for them. Koala won't give him the chance.   

He leans in close, and whispers in her ear, voice low and dark in a way that would make his fans cry, and his enemies cry too but for an entirely different reason. "You wouldn't know something that'd prevent me from fulfilling my duties as Luffy's older brother, now would you, Koala?"  

Well, Koala thinks snidely, depends on what you consider your brotherly duties, and whether they include homicide and starting a war with an Emperor.   

She says, "Mmm."   

Sabo, or rather his mouth, smiles. His eyes are a void. Koala's not used to be on the receiving end of this particular stare, and she isn't enjoying a moment of it.   

"Alright. If that's how you want to be. Let's figure this out together, now shall we?"   

Sabo's voice is calm, exaggeratedly patient, like a therapist. He never talks to Koala like this, but Koala still recognizes this particular tone, and cringes as she realizes which interrogation pattern he's chosen. It's one she's ill equipped to counter at the moment, and he no doubt knows it.   

Koala braces herself. Blank face, she tells herself, even breathing. He's using his stupid over-powered Observation Haki to keep track of your pulse.

"Well," he begins, "I know it's already about Luffy, because you're more nervous about me talking about her than Ace." It's stated as fact, and Koala blinks rapidly to moisten her eyes because she knows the real deal's starting now, and she'll have to avoid blinking when it might give her away.   

"And it must be something you found out during your Fishman Karate sessions, because you don't have any other time together, at least when I'm not watching."   

Koala isn't remotely surprised that he's monitoring everyone; after all, she's been doing the same. She wants to sigh but keeps it in.   

"It's probably something physical, because Lu can't keep secrets if she thinks of them as secrets, so it might have been something you saw...a scar, or a mark on her body? No? Then an object she has on her...Ah, there we go."  

Fuck you, I didn't give you any tells, Koala thinks indignantly, but she knows that expressing any annoyance will only confirm his guesses, and continues to refuse to speak.   

"You've been going to the kitchen more often than usual, but not during meal times, or even prep times, but rather lulls...times that you have no business in the kitchen, and times where only cooks are present, cleaning up or otherwise doing tasks that don't require their full attention...the perfect time to chat."  

Maybe I wanted a snack, Koala thinks, but keeps her mouth shut, because Sabo already knows when and how she snacks. This interrogation really isn't fair.   

"And as for the cooks in question...well, if it were Sanji, I'd just ask him myself, but you knew I wouldn't do that, right, Koala? You know I could get it out of him, so if it was him, he wouldn't know anything of value. But I don't think he's involved at all."   

Sabo looks at Koala expectantly. Koala stares right back at him, though her eyes feel very, very dry.   

"So the question now is, why would my dearest partner want to protect Thatch, Fourth Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates and temporary first cook of the ASL Pirates?" Sabo talks as though he's asking himself, but he isn't, and Koala's not fooled. She keeps her face blank. "I doubt it's a personal thing, after all, his intentions towards Luffy couldn't be more obvious, he announces it at least once a day. And given my partner's obvious little lesbian crush, it doesn't seem in her best interests to help him, no?"   

This does get a reaction from Koala, and her breath leaves her in a whoosh. Fine, make it personal. If he's figured out this much, it's only a few more steps till the answer, and at this point what does it matter. Koala glares, relishing freeing her face from its mask, and for a moment Sabo's back to his usual self, giving her a cheeky wink as though to say told you so. But then Interrogator!Sabo is back, because he's not quite done yet.  

Whatever. She tried, alright. It's not like she owes the Phoenix anything. She leans back against the wall, bringing her arms in front of her chest, and scowls, hoping her expression projects exactly what she thinks of Interrogator!Sabo at the moment. Sabo likewise drops his arms, because he knows she's no longer going to escape.   

"You're not protecting Thatch himself, because if you were we could solve it here, and it never needs to get out of hand. So you're protecting someone connected to him. The fact that you're being so stubborn, tells me that it's not just a personal thing, but something that could cause an incident, that would likely affect the Army. Which means, obviously, a Whitebeard pirate.   

"But I don't think it's just any Whitebeard pirate. They're someone high profile enough that it would be a big deal if I were to confront them, possibly jeopardizing any potential future alliances the Army forms with them, or drawing the eyes of the World Government. Which, they're already watching us, which makes me think it's gotta be someone even bigger than Thatch..."   

Which, of course doesn't leave much.   

"It could very well be old man Whitebeard himself," Sabo says, but he's shaking his head. "But something tells me it's not. And I know that some very interesting little blue birds have been stopping by the Merry, likely with letters for Thatch, but possibly also with unsolicited deliveries for my baby brother..."  

Your baby brother, chill with your possessiveness, does rubbing it in feel that good? Koala sniffs.   

"And as for why it's a big deal...you wouldn't be so secretive over a crush. Everyone on the crew has a crush. That can be dealt with. This is a few steps beyond, something you think would make me mad, right, Koala?”

Sabo pauses a moment, but it's for dramatic effect, because Sabo knows that Koala knows that he already has an answer.   

"So tell me, Koala. What did Marco the Phoenix give Luffy to try to claim her as his bride?"   

And well, there you have it.

"Bravo," Koala says dryly. "I see you're qualified for your position, Chief. I'll be sure to inform the Boss."   

Sabo tips his hat, and even though she allows herself to relax, Koala keeps her eyes trained on her partner.   

He's taking this calmer than she expected, to be honest. Interrogator!Sabo still hasn't fully faded from his face, but he's no longer giving off sadistic vibes, and has that little frown that tells Koala he's still sorting through his thoughts. His ability to remain composed is likely affected by the fact that they're still in Paradise, and the Whitebeard Pirates and the New World are still quite a ways away.   

Which is good, because it means Sabo can't just impulsively cause a massive incident on the spot. But it's also bad, because it means he's got more time to plot, and Sabo can come up with some pretty devastating things if given the opportunity.   

"Sabo, I barely know anything myself, and neither does Thatch," Koala says, finally willing to speak. "I'm working on getting more information. Don't plan anything rash yet. It could all be a misunderstanding."   

Sabo slowly nods, still quiet. Koala sighs.   

This might be a good time to bring up a certain topic, she realizes. She'd been thinking about it for a while now, but had wanted to give him more time.   

She first thought about it when the night after he regained his memories, she sees Sabo slip away from the Merry to pursue the ship that's transporting the slavers who tried to sell Luffy at the auction house. The slavers have already been passed in the hands of Army agents, all of the enslaved have been freed and are on their way to safety, and Luffy's back with her crew. Their job should have been over.   

Sabo comes back before dawn, accompanied by Ace who had likely transported him with Striker. He seems calmer than the night before, but Koala doesn't miss that his gloves are still damp from recently being washed.   

There've been other incidents too, in the short period they've traveled together. Koala's seen Sabo dangerously close to snapping (and actually snapping) more during the past few weeks than their entire decade together. And on one hand, it's understandable, but on the other...   

"You know," Koala begins, as gently as possible. "she's no longer the child you left behind. She's an adult. Even if this ends up being nothing, she may still find someone, one day. What are you going to do then?"   

If Luffy's in physical danger, protecting her is one thing. But what if it's something that she chooses?   

The change is subtle, but Koala notices when the last of the Chief of Staff fades from Sabo, as his head tilts downward ever so slightly. And all of a sudden he reminds Koala all too much of the tiny, battered child who stared at himself in the mirror when he thought everyone was asleep, touching his scars and asking, Who are you?

"I can't lose her, I can't lose either of them," Sabo says quietly, and he overlaps completely with the lost child, and ah, Koala thinks, because she gets it.   

That child, that self who was missing for so long, is back now, inside Sabo where he always belonged, where he always existed but couldn't be recognized. That child now takes up so much space, too much space, and still hasn't been fully reconciled with the adult that Sabo's grown up to be. Simpler, childish emotions and desires that feel too vibrant and raw, clashing with the adult's more weathered world view, aggravated further by all the darkness that Sabo's seen in their line of work.   

Sabo's less concerned about Ace, Koala knows, because even though Sabo loves both his brothers, Ace is like his other half. They don't protect each other, but function seamlessly as a single unit, a unit with one priority that stands above all else.   

Luffy.   

Luffy, who as a child, Sabo was able to protect from anything and everything in their isolated microcosm. Luffy, who as an adult, Sabo knows all too well is more vulnerable than ever, as proven by the very situation in which they reunited.  

A gilded glass tank, hidden away behind dusty curtains, with a dark, motionless shape crumpled at the bottom. Chains, chains, and chains upon bruised skin, and bubbles rising from parted lips, getting smaller and smaller as she slowly fades...

That was bad enough, but Koala doubts Ace or any of the others know exactly what the fate of a captured mermaid is, at least in the way that Koala and Sabo do.   

Koala understands, she really does.   

But she also knows the importance of freedom, not just to Sabo, but likely to Luffy and Ace as well.   

"Would it be losing her?" she asks, and child!Sabo flinches.   

"We vowed to be free," Sabo says, and he still sounds lost, like he doesn't know what the word means anymore. "And we will be." His hat shadows his eyes, and Koala can't imagine how they look at that moment. "But I don't want her to go where I can't follow."   

"Then follow," Koala says, because what else is there to say? "Follow, if that's your freedom. But you can't stop hers."   

"I know."   

She couldn't have known how Sabo would take her words.

~~

Part 8, we see more of Thatch.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

As always, any comments are immensely appreciated and help motivate me to create more for this AU! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[poutyhannie]

word count: +4k 

warnings: fluff, angst, smut, college!fem reader, college!felix, romantic fantasy

** **

You gaze down at the materializing letters stretching across your palm till your elbow. It was a mixture of Korean and English. The Korean characters were few and far in between but were delicate and even while the English letters were long, messy, and leaned to the right.

I’ll need to turn in Prof Behl’s assignment when I go to class and then explain why I can’t go to the museum research trip.

Did I use all my meal swipes? Chris said he wanted to workout at 3…

These notes would often appear on your right arm, sometimes remaining like a tattoo for weeks or fading before you could even read it fully. These were the thoughts of a person whose soul matched your own. He was a college student who is majoring in English with focus on things like creative writing and poetry and you’ve gathered that ‘Chris’ was his roommate.

For as flowery his major was, the boy’s thoughts were surprisingly plain and boring. However, you were thankful for it. Your friend often had dark circles under her eyes. Her connection with her soul partner was being awake at the same time and you were sure her soul’s partner lived on the other side of the world with the opposite time zone. To be honest, you gleaned almost nothing from the notes. The boy probably didn’t know that his thoughts were being recorded on your arm, which you always kept covered with a sleeve. Neither did you know what connection he had with you. Did he feel the emotions you did? Were his dreams your memories? You’ve laid to waste these meaningless thoughts to focus on your life more, not his. There was little reason to go searching him out; if you truly were tied together by souls, fate could do the heavy lifting for you two.

Leaning back at your desk, you shake out your cramping hands. The graphic design project requires that you draw out the story board by hand rather than digitally and you never wished more to curse for it. The reason was, according to your Professor, head of the project you and your classmates are fighting to be a part of use physical copies in the preliminary section. Because you had started in traditional art, relatively it was easy to get back in the swing of things. Didn’t mean that your hand didn’t hurt like a bitch, though. You had everything riding you getting to participate in this project, you’d planned everything out with your counselor and had little attractive options if you didn’t get it, so you return to your drawing.

Your roommate swings open the door, causing you to jump and tug your sleeve on quickly. She throws her bag on her bed with no regards to the loud thump it emits. Her blonde hair rests on your paper when she leans over to look at your drawing. As always, she gushes at your talents and as always, you remind her that her microbiology major is much more impressive.

The night is a lot hotter than comfortable, especially with the tight sleeve you always relegate yourself to, even while sleeping. Ever since you caught your dad reading the thoughts on your arm when you slept, you sometimes go so far as to sleep on your stomach, with your right arm tucked under you. It was uncomfortable reading his thoughts, much less having someone else read them. Yeah, they weren’t always too juicy or detailed, but it still felt wrong to share something like this with anyone else.

“Even family?” You remember your dad asking to your rage. 

“Even family.” You hissed.

With a groan, you rise out of bed, your roommate looking up from her five inch thick textbook, illuminated by a soft, yellow dest lamp. Her watery eyes gaze up at you from behind her round glasses. “I’m going out. Can’t sleep.” You tell her.

The night breeze whispers through your hair as you sit on an empty bench in an empty courtyard near your dorms. It’s in time like these that you feel peace. When not a soul is around you and you can finally just sit with yourself. Slowly, you unwind the sleeve and are met with chaotic swirl of words. This happens when he dreams.

Worth, friends, others, internships, classes, empty, running, nothing, darkness.

Your heart pangs. He’s having nightmares again. Instinctively, you begin to wrap your arm up again, not wishing to invade him at his weakest point.

Though you don a mask of indifference towards the scrawl on your arm and effectively the boy around others, you can’t help but hurt for him. He seems swamped with so much to do and feels helpless. When you look down, the chilling sentence on your arm burns in your mind and heart.

I don’t think there’s anyone for me. All I see is black. Am I alone?

Two weeks later, they stay. No matter how many times you unwrap and rewrap your arm, those three sentences never leave. Others come and go, but from that night until now, they stay.  And the guilt of not pursuing this boy is eating you alive.

You always assumed he had a connection that allowed him to know of your existence. When you realize that he doesn’t, your passivity almost seems like a sin. How lonely it must be to be alone in a world where everyone has someone. Since then, you’ve been paying close attention to the scrawl on your arm, careful to gather as much info on him as you can decipher. Right now though, in class, you can’t.

Your Professor is announcing the chosen students of the project and you can’t really think about him now. 

“And the last student is Y/n.”

You heave out a sign of relief, making a note to thank you Professor. You’re sure she had a few good words to put in for you. “The students I just called will be working with other student in screenwriting. You guys need to pick five scripts you want to animate and the screenwriting students will choose their preferred artist.”

Walking into the classroom with another female peer by your side, you absentmindedly fidget with your sleeve. She walks boldly up to a male student, who’s dark blonde falls onto his freckled cheeks, sticking her hand out. “I’m Madeline,” you hear her say. His eyes snap up towards yours but he immediately looks back to Madeline as they exchange pleasantries.

Madeline is paired up with the freckled boy and you with a quiet, thoughtful boy named Seungmin. He tells you that he is friends with Felix, the freckled boy, so you combine tables and group up. Because this is a project done in your own time, you all choose to work together to bounce ideas off with each other though with how bubbly Madeline is, you wonder how much you guys will get done.

When the topic of soul partners comes up, you and Felix shift uncomfortably. Seungmin gets visions through the eyes of his partner and has seen her face, he tells you guys casually. 

How wonderful it must be to know who your soul is tied to, you think bitterly, a twinge of jealousy coursing through you.

Madeline’s green eyes shine as she starts, “I don’t know who they are, but I see colors that has to be tied to them.” She’s a romantic, giddy with excitement at the prospect. It’s so easy to live with just seeing colors; it’s pretty and inconsequential, much a contrast to the invasive cryptics on your arm.

When all your eyes turn to Felix, he purses his lips softly, only able to look down at the table. “I actually don’t know what my connection is. Maybe its unconsciousness because I can never fall asleep at nights,” he jokes, attempting to push the attention off of that topic.

A glossy nail taps Madeline’s pink lips as her dark lashes flutter, “I don’t think so. Insomnia isn’t usually paired with unconsciousness connection.”

Feigning disinterest, Felix shrugs, focusing back to the sketches, “Maybe it has something to do with my color blindness, I’m not sure. Doesn’t really matter,” he mutters, his voice deep and throaty. Madeline gasps, lightly slapping Felix’s arm. He raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Of course that has to be it!” She exclaims, “It’ll be a subcategory color connection, just like me! Maybe you’ll see colors when you see your partner or when some other unveiling instance occurs.”

She goes into depth about connections, her shoulders bouncing in excitement. Thankfully, this distracts them from asking you about your connection. As her movements and words quicken, the stale bitterness in your mouth consumes you. It’s immature, your distaste for anything about these connections. Just because you have a subjectively unfortunate connection definitely doesn’t mean you should shit on Madeline’s obvious interest in the subject. In fact, Felix and Seungmin seem to enjoy talking with her about it as she has extended knowledge about connections. 

However, while Seungmin’s tone that he asks his with questions are amused, his interest piqued, Felix is leaned forward in his chair, his eyes barely concealing desperation. Your heart pangs for him; he’s probably so lost. 

Seungmin and Madeline walk in front of you and Felix on the sidewalk, returning to the dorms. They’re in deep conversation about Seungmin’s connection and with Madeline’s knowledge and Seungmin’s intellect, they quickly and thankfully exclude you and Felix.

“I don’t wanna talk about connections,” you declare to him. A small smile spreads across Felix’s face and he nods knowingly. “What made you want to get into animation?” He asks, a pleasant and refreshing topic.

“I haven’t always been the best at art,” you admit with a shrug. “No way!” Felix exclaims, his eyebrows raised, “Your work is so cool, though.” 

You laugh at the compliment, “Yeah, well it took me a while to get here and I didn’t want to throw away that work, so here I am. What about you? Why did you want to get into script writing?” 

Felix’s eyes soften and he stares off past the line of buildings, into the horizon. “I feel like I can see different things with words. Does that make sense?” He pauses, gathering his thoughts, “They open up worlds and ideas that I can’t experience and it makes me feel closer to normal. It makes me feel alive.” 

“Like, you can imagine how colors feel or look through words?”

He nods, looking back at you with a playful look, “That’s another reason why I like your work so much. The values are clear and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything by not seeing color.” 

The genuine, heartfelt comment makes your heart warm and a smile spread across your face, “Yeah, I focus a lot on just greyscale because composition is the most important aspect to my art. Stuff like color theory, while important, it basically inconsequential if you can’t even tell what’s going on in the picture.” 

Felix’s voice quiets as he shoots a look up at Madeline’s back, “Yeah, I didn’t want to choose Madeline’s for that reason, but she really thought that the color use in my script would work in perfect tandem with her style and I really couldn’t tell whether she’s right or not,” he shrugs, his lips pulling into a line.

“Oh, totally,” you say quickly, not wishing to have Felix question his choice, “It makes total sense and in some instances color can tell more of a story than composition and values can. It was wise to team with her.” Maybe your intentions of reassuring Felix was too obvious because his eyes crinkle deeply when he gives you a big, knowing smile.

A week into your work and the very basic shapes for the animation is finished. Working with Seungmin is wonderful as he has a clear direction and even pictures he’s taken to show you what he envisions. Concentration pinches Felix’s eyebrows together and he and Madeline converse as you watch them from the other end of the table.

An hour or two pass and you stand up to stretch, announcing that you’re gonna take a bathroom break to which they agree is a wonderful idea. Coming out of the bathroom, you wrap up your sleeve, peeking to see what the ink says this time. The three words that you’re familiar with; that have been etched into your sink for weeks don’t make your heart stop, but the ones under it. 

Am I alone? She needs to add more clear composition so I can actually tell what’s going on. 

Your eyes snap up to the blond haired boy. That’s exactly what Felix told you a day ago.  Its him?

To your confusion, he now stares, awestruck at Madeline. There’s a sinking in your stomach but you can’t tell why. Gasping, his eyes widen as he takes her hands. “Madeline…I think,” he stumbles over his words, clearly flabbergasted. “I-I’m seeing color now, I think.” 

She squeals, squeezing his hands tightly, “When? Just now? What happened?” His dark eyes look dazes and he steps back. His eyes wander from the ground her hers and he whispers, “When I saw you.” Turning your back on them, you leave quickly, not wishing to intrude on Felix’s revelation. 

You resume your seat next to Seungmin, heaving a sigh. “What’s wrong?” His lips form a slight pout and his head tilts to the side. You shake your head, waving a hand, “Felix and Madeline are soul partners. He just found out.” From your peripheral, you see Seungmin smile widely.  You laugh to yourself, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks at your previous hasty conclusion.  You really are desperate for the person who matches your soul.  

“That’s great,” he taps your arm with his hand, hidden by his sweater’s sleeve, “Why do you look so bummed, though?” 

You purse your lips, “It just sucks to be a late bloomer. I don’t know who my partner is,” you tell him as the bitterness fills your mouth again. Seungmin nods firmly, his fingers tapping your arm again, “At least you know that you have one, though. Felix didn’t even know whether he was alone or not.” 

“Yeah,” you shrug, trying to ignore the gnawing guilt of your selfishness, “it just sucks.” 

“Of course but just give it time,” Seungmin advises, patting your shoulder softly.

You and Seungmin gaze blankly at Felix and Madeline as they both gush over each other. You can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when Felix gingerly strokes her cheek.

Clapping, Seungmin returns to the story board, pointing at a slide, “I like the idea with this one, but if you’ll look here,” he pulls out a picture he took of a deep, dark green forest that just seems to dissolve into black, “I want the composition to be more dangerous. Like, the characters are being drawn into darkness and they won’t have any way to escape.” Nodding quickly, you add rough shading and lines to your preexisting work to cater to Seungmin’s request.

“Perfect,” he beams his toothy smile at you.

By the time the project is all but done, Felix and Madeline are attached at the hip or the hand or the face. You try not to watch them, jealousy foaming in your throat. Felix’s eyelashes flutter against his freckles and his lips are glossy as Madeline gently strokes his cheek, smiling softly. Such a romantic—it would make sense that her seeing colors would be paired with his past complete colorblindness. He gushes over her work and her use of color, his voice giddy with excitement at finally seeing color, finally being normal.

While your initial bitterness at their fortune has washed away into passivity, you can’t bring yourself to look at your arm like you used to. In a way, you’re foolishly upset at you partner for not giving you anymore clues that would lead you to him. It’s foolish because he doesn’t know you can read what’s on his mind.

You pick up your artist’s hand brace from your dorm bed and begin unwrapping your arm to put it on, barely sparing the black scrawl a glance.

Its not all black anymore. I can see it. I can see her.

Dread clenches your gut as your eyes travel down to the next single word.

Madeline.

There’s a buzzing white in your head as you fumble to get your shoes on, tripping out into the hallway, breaking into a sprint towards Madeline’s dorm, on the other side of the campus. Whirling confusing overcomes your mimd and you feel like you’re suffocating, the only goal is to find an answer. You don’t know when hints of this conclusion plagued your mind. Maybe it was that day, months ago at the bathroom. Maybe it was a deeper jealousy at seeing Felix kissing Madeline. It didn’t matter anymore, you frantically knocked at her door, out of breath and gasping.

Her green eyes are wide and her pink lips are swollen, she’s almost as out of breath as you are. She makes no move to hide Felix, who’s pulling on a shirt behind her shoulder. Nervousness pangs in your throat but you shove past her and shed your arm to Felix.

“Wh-what’s this, Y/n?” He asks, eyes bouncing off your arm to your face, uncomfortable with looking at something you’ve explained to him is so precious and private to you.

“Read it,” you beg, eyes flicking from his face to Madeline’s. She furrows her shapely eyebrows, gingerly taking your cold arm into her soft hands. At Madeline’s brazenness, Felix finds it in himself to look down at your arm.

Her grip is firm but you could rip away from it at any moment.

Madeline’s eyes are wild and horror fills them as she looks up at Felix. You try desperately to explain, “I-I don’t know what this means either, but that day that you first saw color, Felix, there were your exact words to me about your project on my arm.” 

He laughs to deflect how uncomfortable he feels, it comes out too harsh and grates against your neck, raising heat into your face. “Y/n I know you really wanna find your partner, but this is crazy. Don’t try to suggest stuff like this. Madeline and I are partners, everything has been perfect since that day for us.” 

He looks over to Madeline for reassurance, but she doesn’t meet his eyes. A soft, vulnerable look plagues her eyes as she looks up at you. Felix stutters, confused why she wouldn’t immediately agree with him. “Lix,” she inhales deeply, “for my connection, you know how I see colors? Those are actually s-supposed to go away when I meet my partner.” You realize the vulnerable look in her eyes was actually guilt.

“What?” His voice is a breath, like he’s been struck in the chest and is left gasping for air. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to meet them because I don’t want to loose my color—it’d be like dying for me and I’m really happy with you. Aren’t you happy with me too?” Felix’s lips hang open and his face is frowning in confusion, “So you’ve been using me when you knew I wasn’t yours?” Madeline’s eyes fill with guilty tears and she nods. As much as you can understand why she did what she did, anger and bitterness towards her, towards loosing so much time with Felix consumes you.

“Then you never deserved him,” you hiss, possessively retracting your arm into your body, hiding the words against your bosom.

You and Felix sit wordless on a bench in a park in a part of town you were unfamiliar with. 

“So it was you this entire time?” 

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” your voice cracks and you bite your lip to prevent it from trembling, “I really didn’t know for sure and I doubted what I knew because you just seemed so happy with her.” 

He scoffs loudly, running a hand through his silver hair, “Yeah and look what that amounted to.” 

Quietly, you respond, “It amounted to us realizing. That means something.” 

Felix exhales slowly, turning to face you, his eyes tired and sad, “Yeah, at least we realized now—” he stops abruptly, pausing to collect himself, “God, I was so stupid, just because I started seeing color one random day because she was in front of me?” He scoffs again, slouching into the bench. 

“It made sense though, you were both eager to get your partners and—” 

“But to leave you alone?” His voice is raw and soft, “I left you alone when you were right there.” Slowly, as if he were a hologram or mirage you couldn’t quite reach, you extend your hand to rest your hand on his warm cheek, almost shocked that he’s there. Unintentionally, he leans into your hand, closing his eyes gently. “We can begin now. Rather a late start than never. We have the rest of our lives to get it right.”

Felix buries his face into the crook of your shoulder, pressing firm, confident kisses and hot, stinging hickies into your neck. You run your hands up the bare expanse of his back and up to his hair. Flush spreads across your cheeks as he lifts himself up to gaze down at your bare chest but you don’t cover yourself up. You have nothing to hide. “Have you ever done this before?” You whisper to him. He shakes his head softly, leaning down to trail kisses from the base of your neck through the valley between your breasts. Lower, his kisses get wetter as he gets closer to your aching hotness. As if you’re made of paper, Felix gingerly spreads your legs. The cold air hitting your core causes you to flinch, but Felix’s warm palm presses slowly against you, calming the sensation into pleasure.

“May I?” 

You whine out a ‘yes’, groaning when his sinks a finger into your core. It sucks his finger in and Felix barely contains a moan at the sensation, imagining how you’d feel around him. Slowly, he begins to pump his single finger into you before adding another and scissoring deep. Curling his fingers, he brushes your sweet spot, causing you to gasp and arch your back. 

Smiling to himself, he continues to work at that spot until you’re gasping and moaning incessantly. He pulls out and you whine immediately but he positions himself above you, gazing down at you with adoration even while his impossibly hard dick pokes against you. “Hurry, Lixie, please do it,” you whine and he hushes you with a kiss, slowly sliding in and caressing his tongue against yours when you gasp. Your face is scrunched up at the unfamiliar stretch but Felix can’t help but smile down at you, endeared. His eyes are dark at the sensation of him dragging against your walls. When you begin to relax around him, you start whining again and he giggles, slowly beginning to thrust up into you. There’s nothing desperate or wanton about his movements against you. He’s being gentle, letting you feel him as his drags along your walls though it takes all his self control to not increase the pace. It’s deep and rhythmic, his hips against yours. He fills you up and groans as you seem to suck him up, your juices mixing with his precum.

“Baby, you’re so warm and so—mhg—tight,” he gasps against you, “Can I go faster?” 

“Yeah,” you’re breathless and rake your fingers across his back when he starts to do just that. He positions his hip in a way that has himself dragging across your sweet spot and you screaming with every thrust. He reaches down to rub your clit, stars and lights sparking across your vision as a burning coil begins wind in your gut. The groans and moans he lets out when you unintentionally clench around him paired with the way his movements quicken as he becomes desperate push you closer. “Y/n, I’m g-gonna cum,” he whispers, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. “Me too, Lixie,” you gasp, running your hands over his body. 

“I love you.” Your high crashes over you, white pleasure electrifying you through your body as you feel Felix shoot into you. The burning pleasure overcomes your senses as he collapses next to you, his hair sticking to his forehead as he pants into your neck, smiling deeply in pure bliss. Euphoric, you tug him closer, pressing a kiss to the freckle on the tip of his nose, onto both his cheeks, and finally onto his warm, glossy lips.

“I love you too, Lixie.” He is yours and you are his. That’s how it was predestined and you both have fulfilled destiny.

[lamesiscanon]

Mistletoe

Day 5 of the holiday prompt list posted by @remus-john-lupin  I also did not read this again for mistakes so pardon those... anyways,

 The plan was christened as Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him. Or as James called it, Desperation at its Finest. It came together on a rather ordinary Wednesday evening in the dorm, where Sirius was lazily flicking sparks at James’ feet as the other boy slept. The appeal came from the quiet giggles and words like “Lily, stop that tickles” James would mumble sleepily, delighting Sirius to no end. This was prime blackmail material that Sirius would most definitely use as an advantage in the next coming weeks. 

Sirius had to bite his sleeve to keep his laughter from waking him up when James started puckering his lips against his pillow. Though, it turned out to be all for naught when Peter threw the door open with a bang. 

“Whazzat?” James sat up on his bed with his wand held out, though he held onto the wrong end. Sirius quickly hid his own under his duvet and turned his attention towards Peter, who was out of breath and full of sweat. 

“SIRIUS!” Peter shouted in a way of greeting, dumping his bag on the floor and slamming the door shut once again.

“PETE!” Sirius met his words with equal enthusiasm, though he had no idea what this was about. 

“JAMES!” James joined in, always ready to match his friends energy. Peter ignored him.

“Sirius, I just overheard a conversation in the library and Emmeline Vance is planning on asking Remus to the Christmas dance.” Peter let out in one breath as he searched through his trunk, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. 

“What?” Sirius and James both yelled in a panic, to which Peter explained everything he had overheard in the Library. Emmi’s Hufflepuff roommates had apparently talked her into asking Remus to the dance after Emmi herself complained about not knowing who to go with. Sona Pearce had suggested Remus because he was tall, kind, smart, and most importantly, mysterious as hell. The rest of the Hufflepuff girls had giggled at that, talking excitedly about how quiet and secretive Remus was. It was decided then, and declared by Emmeline that she would ask Remus Lupin to the Christmas dance. Peter had immediately run out of the library all the way to Gryffindor tower. 

And so that’s how Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him was born. Peter, as the scribe, James as the voice of reason, and Sirius as the anxiety ridden idiot in love. Together, they came up with the perfect plan to squash all of Emmeline Vance’s hopes and dreams. (Though, Sirius didn’t think she’d be too sad in the end, since she apparently didn’t have an actual crush on Remus.)

Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him (Desperation at its Finest) ((Shut the fuck up, James))

Step 1: Make sure Remus avoids running into Emmi Vance at all times. 

Step 2: Subtly show Remus that I, Sirius Black, am perfect boyfriend material.

Step 3: Ask Remus to the Christmas dance.

Step 4: Get Remus under the charmed mistletoe and kiss him until he forgets his name. (Stick your tongue down his throat) (Gettin’ Jiggy with it) (Peter, for the love of God, please never say that again.)

Step 5: Ask Remus on a date, become boyfriends, fall in love, get married, live happily ever after.

The first steps were surprisingly easy. Sirius managed to execute them without any complications, which was rare for a Marauder’s plan. The map came in handy when the first step was still in motion. All it took was a quick glance at the map after each class to make sure that they wouldn’t run into Emmeline on their way to the next class. A couple of times it was unavoidable, but Sirius would usually engage Remus in a conversation so he wouldn’t notice Emmeline trying to get his attention. And for the one time that Emmeline actually tried to come up to Remus and talk to him, Peter set off a well-timed dung bomb that set everyone running for fresh, clean air. He’d gotten detention for that, but Sirius was grateful enough to finish his potions homework for him for the next week. 

Step two was just as easy since Sirius usually complimented Remus on a daily basis and would help him with Transfiguration and Runes (the only classes Remus didn’t have the highest marks). He stepped up the game just a little by giving Remus his favorite sweets from a secret Hogsmeade run and organized his part of the dorm room before and after the full. Remus hadn’t acted like it was out of the ordinary, but he did thank Sirius and even gave him one of those secret smiles the two usually shared, so Sirius counted it as a very successful win.

Sirius was almost sure he failed the whole thing when it came to the third step, though. Actually asking Remus out brought up nerves that he usually only felt right before quidditch games. It ended up being a spur of the moment thing when the two were alone in the dorm, when Remus was getting dressed and Sirius was pretending not to watch. Sirius blurted the question before he could prepare himself for it. He thought the plan was completely fucked when Remus had only stared at him for a moment, confusion and concern evident all over his face. Sirius almost took it back, was about to play it off as a joke when Remus smiled and said “Sure, Pads. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

In the days leading up the the Christmas dance, Sirius learned that the fourth step wasn’t going to be as easy. Regular mistletoe wasn’t proving to be enough, so Sirius had to resort himself to charmed mistletoe, which backfired horribly when Peter had accidentally gotten stuck with him. Much to both of their disappointment, the charmed magic on the stupid plant didn’t settle for any cheek kisses. 

The one who the charmed mistletoe was actually meant for had jumped out of the way at the last second, but Peter hadn’t been so lucky. It frustrated Sirius, that Remus seemed to have memorized the layout of all mistletoe decorations around the castle and avoided it well. So far Sirius had been resigned to kissing Both Prewett twins (separate occasions, thank Merlin), Dorcas Meadowes, Sona Pearce, Isaac Ure, and poor Peter all because Remus was apparently afraid of mistletoe.

The actual day of the Christmas dance made Sirius feel excited, nervous, and frustrated in one go, but his hopes were up that tonight would be the night he could get Remus alone and under the damned magical plant. 

Remus was getting ready in the boy’s dorm while Sirius was dragged up to Lily’s because apparently it was “more romantic” to wait and see each other until they met up at the common room entrance. At least Sirius got the perk of having Marlene do his eyeliner.

As reluctant as he was to admit it, Lily was actually right about the extra romantic thrill of seeing Remus after walking out of the Fat Lady’s portrait. He cleaned up well, with a set of dark maroon robes that went well with his dirty blonde curls and honey eyes. Merry fucking hippogriffs, Sirius could barely manage from swooning straight to the ground when those eyes met his. And that stupid, beautiful smile that Remus gave him when those honey eyes took in every inch of Sirius. He was completely fucked.

Sirius was fucked when Remus laughed as the teachers took the first dance, he was fucked when Remus ate a sugar quill from the refreshments table, and he was fucked when a hand grabbed his to pull him out on the dance floor for their own dance. The night was one of the best of Sirius’ life, yet he still hadn’t managed to get Remus under the mistletoe. He got distracted by dancing with Remus once the music turned into more upbeat stuff, and then they met up with James, Peter, and their dates and sat around for hours laughing and talking about other couples they could see on the dance floor.

James nudged Sirius at one point, motioning to where Emmeline was dancing with Benjy Fenwick. Apparently Emmi Vance had a type, which was tall and smart bookish boys.

Sirius got so caught up in joking with Remus and Lily that he didn’t hear the announcement for the last song. Lily had been dragged away by her date, leaving Remus and Sirius alone at their table near the refreshments. 

“Come on, let’s finish the Christmas dance with a bang.” Remus said, holding out his hand for Sirius to take. Sirius was so excited to dance with Remus that he didn’t even process the fact that this was the end of the night and he still hasn’t kissed Remus.

In the middle of their jumping around and screaming, Remus pulled out his wand and made an unrecognizable motion to Sirius, but before he could ask, Remus put his wand away and continued to dance. The crowd cried for an encore when the song ended, nobody wanted to leave just yet. The band relented, though they announced that this was going to be a slow dance. Sirius shyly took Remus’ offered hand and led them both across the floor in twirls and slow sways.

The night was actually perfect. Even in Sirius didn’t get to kiss Remus, he always had tomorrow, or the next day, or even the next. He just wanted to be in this moment with Remus as they swayed and laughed, completely oblivious to everyone else around them.

“So I found something interesting today.” Remus spoke, jolting Sirius from his thoughts.

“Oh yeah?” Sirius asked, curious as to what Remus found and thought interesting enough to bring up during their dance. 

Remus smiled, reaching into the pocket of his maroon dress robes and pulled out a small piece of parchment that was torn at the edges. It sort of looked familiar...

“Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him.” Remus read aloud. “I thought it sounded quite interesting, so I picked it up.”

“Moony, no! You weren’t supposed to see that!” Sirius let of Remus’ waist to grab the parchment out of his hands, but Remus was quick at dodging the attempts. 

“Oh Merlin...” Sirius groaned, completely embarrassed. He wished that whatever deity was above would just smite him right then and there. 

“Well, it has my name on it so I didn’t have any qualms about reading it...” Remus cleared his throat and shook out the parchment to prepare reading the rest. 

“Step one, make sure Remus avoids running into Emmi Vance at all times. This one was interesting, since I have no idea what Emmeline has to do with any of this.” 

“She was going to ask you to the dance...” Sirius muttered. He was pretty sure this is the reddest his face has ever been, and there was no way to stop this torture. 

“Ah, I see. Step two,” Remus continued, “Subtly show that I, Sirius Black, and perfect boyfriend material.”

All Sirius could do was smack his hand to his face and keep wishing that he could somehow disappear from this whole mess. 

“Step three, ask Remus to the Christmas dance.” Remus read, sounding more amused as the moment dragged on. “Now, since we’re both here at said dance, I can only assume you deemed the first three steps successful, right?” 

Sirius didn’t answer, but Remus apparently wasn’t actually looking for one, he just continued reading. 

“Step four, get Remus under the charmed mistletoe and kiss him until he forgets his name.” 

They had stopped dancing at this point. Sirius was pretty sure it was because of him being to embarrassed to do anything but cover his face and listen as Remus read his own plan aloud to him. He felt rooted to the spot, no matter how much he wanted to run away and hide until graduation. Maybe the room of requirement would be a good place to live until then...

“I laughed and James’ and Peter’s inputs here. And suddenly, all your mistletoe mishaps made sense. It was hard to watch actually, nearly crushed all my hopes, but when I found this it all started to make sense.” Remus waved the parchment again and Sirius heard it flap. 

“Remus, please stop. I’m so sorry, okay? I promise I can just avoid you if you want that, but- wait? Did you say I crushed your hopes?” Sirius finally took his hand off his face, looking at Remus for the first time since he started reading. He expected to find disgust, but instead he saw Remus smiling that same, sweet, secret smile that they shared between the two of them. 

“Well, duh.” Remus shrugged, still holding that damned piece of parchment. “I don’t think anyone would like to watch the guy they fancy kiss six other people.” 

Sirius could only gape while his brain floundered for words to say. 

“You- you fancy me?” It came out as a whisper. 

“Of course I do, you daft mutt. Only for the past two years or so. How could I not?” Remus smiled again, and Sirius realized that the way he was looking at him was the same way Sirius would look at Remus when he thought the other boy wasn’t looking. Oh. This revelation brought back all of Sirius’ confidence, it seemed. He put his hand back on Remus’ waist to pull him just a little bit closer and plastered a smirk on his face. 

“Well then, what am I going to do about step four? It’s been bloody hard to check that one off, you know.” 

Remus laughed, and then pointed at the ceiling above him, revealing a single spot of charmed mistletoe. Well, that explains why Sirius felt so rooted to the ground earlier, then. And it explained Remus’ random wand movement earlier.

Sirius’ thoughts were cut off again, but he was more pleased by the cause this time. The pair of softest lips he’d ever felt were pushed against his own, and he hummed, perfectly content. 

Remus was kissing him, Remus was kissing him!

The song ended, and people around them applauded the band for their night of well-played music but Sirius and Remus didn’t even notice. Their own thought were filled with only each other. It was the best night of Sirius’ life. 

“Well,” Remus broke away, breathless from their kiss but still smiling, “You’ve already asked me out, and you got your kiss, so what’s next?”

Sirius laughed and pretended to think about it for a moment, head tilting side to side. Remus smacked him on the shoulder to hurry him along. 

“I’m pretty sure the next step was to become boyfriends.” Sirius beamed. 

“And happily ever after will come later.” Remus agreed, and then his lips were back on Sirius’ while both boys were completely oblivious to the rest of the people around them. 

[i-did-not-mean-to]

School AU - Chapter 2

So, just to be thoroughly done with this experiment, here's Bilbo's POV of the same scene.

There it is :D It was worth a celebratory little story...:)

Love you all <3

“Go to school”, they said, “It will be fun”, they said.

Bilbo rolled his eyes at his own naïveté. Of course, it would not be fun to change schools in the middle of the year.

The headmaster, a fearsome old man with a face like a death mask, waved him out of the office before he could even protest; they had decided to put him into a class with all the other “maladjusted” kids.

He was not maladjusted; he was merely new in this school.

“You will be fine.” The gentle old man, his headteacher as far as he had understood, promised him and the mere fact that this was the kind of thing he needed to be told, did nothing to ease his nervousness.

“They got a new teacher already today and now you, really, what an exciting day for the class.” The man went prattling on and on. Bilbo had no interest in being a novelty and he felt increasingly like he was a sacrifice or chum about to be thrown into the cold water, figuratively, physical education was not on the program for a few days at least.

Small mercies.

The headteacher rapped his knuckles against a closed door and then just shoved his head in without waiting for the teacher to accept his brusque announcement. He informed her, quite casually Bilbo found, of the fact that there was a new student and shoved him into the classroom before just leaving.

Bilbo looked at the woman in front of him; her eyes were dreamy as if she had been torn from a particularly pleasant reverie and her mouth curved into a warm smile almost immediately.

She made an off-hand comment about how all the students were new to her and Bilbo felt less alone instantaneously; he had been afraid to find himself confronted with a hermetic group of people who had all grown up together and who had no interest in getting to know a pudgy youngster who talked too much.

The headteacher had called her “Kira” and Bilbo had already noticed that they went by their first names here, so he greeted her as politely as he could and enquired if he had not missed too much of her class.

It would be hard enough to stitch together what he had seen in his last school and what was expected here, he didn’t want to start by lagging behind right away.

“I’ll fill you in.” A voice called out and he flinched. Again, Miss Kira’s presence was a comfort and a rock, for she twitched as well, but probably not for the same reasons. Except if she was a pervert; she didn’t look like one.

Turning his head ever so slowly, Bilbo searched for the face that went with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard: deep and slightly gruff, it had rippled down Bilbo’s spine like a current of silk and pure electricity.

Please, let him be ugly as sin, please, he begged his guiding stars. He did not want another debacle, not on the first day of school, not in a new environment.

Of course, that had been too much to ask and the face belonging to the voice turned out to be just as charming. Figures!

Bilbo had thought of himself as a rather lucky kid for the longest time, until he realised that it was voices and faces like the one just a mere stone’s throw away from him that set his insides on fire.

Another boy was sitting next to “the voice” and he was now ousted with a hearty shove while Bilbo tried to shuffle those feet he hadn’t quite grown into yet along the narrow empty space between the benches. It would just serve him right if he landed straight on his face in front of that…being.

He looked much more like a man already than a boy, a fact the parts of Bilbo he had definitely grown into already noticed with vivid interest. Feeling the treacherous heat crawl up his neck and into his face, Bilbo approached the bench, getting his feet tangled in his rucksack as he sat down on the now empty chair.

The chair was disgustingly warm, but he didn’t mind; he couldn’t even tell with certainty that his own body was not on fire in this very second and he was the one making the scratched plastic melt.

Oh Lord, his own ass was the last thing he wanted to think about now when that face was so close to him that he could smell the fresh, slightly zesty smell of the dark hair surrounding it. Good, he had been mocked mercilessly in his old school for the way he wore his own hair, but it was really nothing compared to those luscious, dark waves…

BILBO! He called himself to order. His polite instincts kicked in and he rearranged his slack jaw into what he hoped would be a pleasant smile.

The boy frowned at him, a mask of guarded suspicion, and Bilbo’s heart immediately mellowed. Here was someone who had known hardship, he knew instinctively, and it made him redouble the brightness of his smile. Had he ever seen eyes that blue? They were hard and glistening like shards of ice, but Bilbo felt that they might warm up to summer lakes in time.

Not on your first day of school, he tried to remind himself, but it was already too late; his mouth had run dry, and his stomach twitched with that all too familiar twinge of admiration. He was a boy who knew simple pleasures: a sunny meadow, a good meal…and a face like that.

Clearing his throat, the other boy shoved over a piece of paper, filled with chicken scratch writing. As soon as he pried his watering eyes off the boy’s face though to glance at it, he retracted it again, slamming a solid forearm down on the page. “Might have some spelling mistakes.” The boy mumbled. Ah, the idiot class, Bilbo remembered, more interested than ever.

“My name is Bilbo.” He spoke gently, putting one finger on the edge of the page and trying to pull it loose from under the massive bulk of the other one’s arm. “Thorin.” He rumbled, sighing a little. “Really.”

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be your name?” Bilbo chuckled. “Mistress Kira didn’t believe me.” He explained in a low voice, finally letting go of the sheet and allowing Bilbo to read through the notes.

There were indeed one or two hasty mistakes, but Bilbo was astonished to find that Thorin seemed to have chronicled the class faithfully. “If you don’t…if…” He stammered and Bilbo looked up, thankful for the quality of the notes because he knew that he was not processing any of the explanations Thorin was providing in that low voice.

He sounded like rough skin on silk sheets, Bilbo thought, another painfully inappropriate thought.

“Hmmm, thank you, Thorin. These are some good notes.” Bilbo mumbled hazily, his heart giving a sudden jerk when a tiny, thin-lipped, careful smile started tugging at the corners of Thorin’s mouth. Pride and awkwardness mingled on his face and Bilbo was quick to reactivate his sunniest smile in return.

Mistress Kira seemed to have given up on her teaching meanwhile; she was engaged in a low conversation with an awkward blonde boy who seemed to have been drained of all colour. The burly boy who had made room for Bilbo said in a challenging tone that nobody liked them, and Bilbo felt Thorin stiffen beside him.

As he looked over, he could see those beautiful eyes grow ever harder and colder in genuine fright and, when they snapped for a second into his direction, Bilbo felt a shiver of apprehension rustle through him like the North wind blew the leaves off the barren branches.

Looking up, Bilbo once again felt like Miss Kira was a godsend, for he could read the same horrified incomprehension in her eyes that he felt surging within his chest. She looked positively indignant when the class challenged her on not screaming at them, and Bilbo could see her hands clench and unclench rhythmically.

“How do you feel about dwarves?” Bilbo whispered to Thorin to distract the boy from the pain setting his gaze aflame.

“Dwarves? Yeah, they’re cool.” Thorin tried to hide his confusion, but failed miserably, which made Bilbo chuckle.

“Thorin and I will do a presentation about dwarves!” Bilbo announced to the teacher who nodded, slowly, her gaze heavy and warm on their faces. Bilbo knew that she had understood his meaning: I am here, and I am ready to roll up my sleeves and be a part of this.

Thorin’s head whipped around, his eyes huge now and, for a second, Bilbo could see behind the carefully closed-off façade of a slightly constipated and very ill-tempered young man; he saw the kind of desperate hopefulness that never failed to break hearts. Had Miss Kira seen that as well?

“Will we?” Thorin asked. “We shall, your notes tell me that you’re a smart fellow. You can come over to my house if you want to and we can work on it…or…we can go to the library.” Bilbo could have swallowed his own tongue in embarrassment; he had been overzealous once again.

“I’d invite you to mine, but…there’s a lot of people.” Thorin replied with a small chuckle that betrayed discomfiture but also a good deal of genuine humour. How interesting it would be to see more of that, Bilbo thought.

“Sure, as you wish.” Bilbo shrugged. He caught Miss Kira’s eyes and realised that he had stared at Thorin with maybe a tad too much intensity…somehow, he felt like Miss Kira saw everything. As it should be. She was a teacher after all.

She was not teaching though, she was observing the class with calm, interested eyes, trying to get a feeling for the children within it. Only, they were barely children, Bilbo was almost certain that he was one of the younger ones.

It was a small-town school, maybe they mixed different ages, he did not know, but it felt strange, nonetheless.

He was curious who that Mister Smaug had been and why he could sense a hint of pain in his classmates’ voices when they spoke about him. Miss Kira had picked up on that as well, he saw, as her own eyes darkened, and her lips quivered.

Healthy anger flashed in her eyes when she repeated that this man was gone. I am here, Bilbo heard between the lines. She was. And so was he.

Bilbo wracked his brains to find something witty and funny to say to that wondrous boy next to him who had relapsed into brooding silence, as if the mere mention of their former teacher was enough to ruin his mood.

“Did he really hate you?” Bilbo found himself asking and immediately, he was met with a withering stare.

“Yes…Things have happened and my family and I…we’re not the best regarded in this town.” Again, that flash of mortification that made his face look like it was carved from stone.

“Well, I am a newcomer and I’ll make up my own mind.” Bilbo said reassuringly. “And I don’t feel like Miss Kira hates you.” He added with a soft smile.

“Yet.” A resignation too old and deep in one so young hit Bilbo square in the chest and his heart gave another painful twitch; had he been less mindful of common rules of decency, he would have put his small, pudgy hand on top of the broad, callused one resting just a few inches away.

A knock interrupted their conversation and another teacher rushed in. He was impossibly tall and intimated that he had been worried that Miss Kira had been slaughtered by the class. Weird, Bilbo thought, as far as he had understood, it had been the class who had been subjected to the abuse of their former teacher and not the other way around.

He had been so focused on Thorin’s shy smiles and overwhelming beauty that he had only half-listened to accounts of a damaged car. What was a damaged car compared to a damaged soul?

Even though she was considerably shorter than her colleague, Miss Kira interposed herself between him and the class, shielding them with her own body and this instinct of a woman reminded Bilbo so much of his own brave mother that it made him miss her even more.

“Asshole.” Thorin muttered under his breath with barely held-back indignation.

“Miss Kira didn’t believe him. Listen, she volunteered to stay here.” Bilbo tried to assuage the flaming, helpless anger in the other boy’s face. “They’ll not keep her for long if she’s to be exposed to us all the time.” Thorin prophesied darkly.

Bilbo had no idea what had happened here, but, hitherto, Miss Kira seemed perfectly fine. She was presently reading a book and chuckling to herself.

“Mistress Kira…” The shy blonde boy handed her a drawing he had made, and she gushed over it for a few minutes, slowly drawing out confessions from him: he was a good athlete, swift and enduring, but he was nowhere near Thorin’s or Dwalin’s level when it came to brute force.

Dwalin must be that other tall boy, Bilbo thought, eyeballing the dark-haired grump with interest.

“Do you not intend to give us something to do?” That very same person then asked the teacher gruffly.

“Can you not find something for yourself to do?” She gave back pleasantly and turned back to her book, but her fingers gripped the cover a little tighter than before.

“He didn’t mean no offense, Mistress. It’s just…Mister Smaug didn’t like to see us idle.” The smaller boy in the last row provided an explanation. Bilbo thought that he looked incredibly gentle and maybe just a little shy.

“I shall teach you during my teaching hours and I can teach you now if that is your desire. Nonetheless, I think we should go out into the courtyard and get some fresh air. As we’re all bound to be here, we might as well have some fun.” Miss Kira closed her book and shoved it back into her satchel before getting up.

“You want to take us out?” The blonde boy, Legolas, seemed thunderstruck.

“You’re almost grown-ups, are you a flight risk?” Miss Kira cocked one eyebrow and pointed at the door.

“Bilbo and me, we’ll see how we fare with you lot, won’t we?” She turned to him, and Bilbo blushed again, hadn’t that been his exact thought?

He nodded enthusiastically and sniggered when she gave him a discreet wink before tilting her head into Thorin’s direction. “Why don’t you all tell me something about you?” She asked.

Silence.

Bilbo was not about to tell her that he was an orphan and that he had changed schools after a deplorable incident with another boy at his last placement. Only a few months more and he’d be officially emancipated and grown-up.

Maybe, he’d leave school and everything behind and start a new life somewhere else…

“Why don’t you tell us how you ended up in this miserable place to try to teach those everyone has given up on?” Dwalin hissed with unveiled cockiness.

So, that was why he had been put in this class, Bilbo thought, the headmaster thought him damaged beyond repair.

The teacher seemed to hesitate, then she said quietly: “Things have happened…and it is true that I have not chosen you, but I’ll keep you.” She smiled. “If they offer you a normal class, you’ll say: Nay, I’ll stick with the dumbasses?”

Clearly, Dwalin was not about to believe her and again, Bilbo could feel Thorin tense up beside him as they stepped into the courtyard and moved towards a big tree in the middle.

“No, I will not say anything of that sort. I’ll say thank you very much, but no thank you.” Miss Kira’s voice was sharp-edged now. “And why is that?” The blustering air seemed to falter and Dwalin looked a little deflated now.

“Because I don’t hate you and no matter how much you try to get me to, Master Dwalin, I shan’t.” She shrugged and sat down against the tree, taking out her book again and continuing to read as if nothing had happened.

“She’s something.” Bilbo whipped around, had Thorin actually laughed? Yes, yes, he could clearly see a row of white teeth between the stretched lips that looked so sinfully inviting to him.

He also could see the rest of the boy now, even though looking at it was the single worst idea he had ever had in his whole life it seemed to him.

Thorin was tall, a good deal taller than himself and he looked as solid as the tree their teacher was leaning against now.

“All brawn, no brains.” Thorin muttered when he caught the appraising gaze of the new student.

“Yeah, that’s what you want people to believe so they’d feel less intimidated, huh?” Bilbo replied automatically before he could reign in his loose tongue. Thorin stiffened, rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly before admitting: “No, that’s what…”

“If you bring up that Smaug again.” Bilbo warned him and Thorin fell silent. Sitting down on the patch of lawn surrounding the tree, Bilbo patted the grass next to him and was pleasantly surprised when the other boy plopped down immediately, a little too close for comfort maybe.

“Miss Kira and me, we are thoroughly fed up with your former teacher already, aren’t we, Miss Kira?” Bilbo felt the need to make this clear and to stand up for his potential friend and definite crush.

“He sounds like a brute.” Miss Kira replied without looking up from her book, but Bilbo could see her mouth curl into a smile behind the pages.

“You know nothing about us.” Thorin mumbled under his breath, honest regret tinging his voice.

“Then tell me, what makes you all so terrible?” Bilbo gathered his courage and placed his open palm on the clenched fist of the boy sitting next to him. “I am just not nice. Blondie is shite at reading. Dwalin has brawls, quite a few of them. Bombur is just fat. Redhead is from the wrong side of the tracks.”

“You’re very nice.” Bilbo demurred, which got him a wide-eyed stare from Thorin. “You think so?”

Bilbo nodded. “Ah, we’re just the kind of people other self-respecting people don’t like to look at.” Dwalin interjected as he passed by with a wooden plank that had detached from one of the nearby benches.

“Look at?” Bilbo thought that maybe, they had switched codes and language somewhere in the middle of the conversation because he could not understand what was going on.

“We make people uncomfortable.” Thorin supplied softly, brushing his long hair out of his face and pressing his lips into a thin line. “Miss Kira, do you know what’s going on?” Bilbo asked helplessly, because yes, Thorin’s looks made him uncomfortable but certainly not in the way suggested here.

“No idea, never seen more handsome teenagers in my life.” Miss Kira replied disinterestedly, her eyes still glued to her book. “Ah, I am not alone then. Are we in an alternate universe?” Bilbo replied, happy to have at least one other person here who was not part of this grotesque play of innuendo and stubborn misbelief.

“Have you seen my father?” Legolas spluttered and then pointed miserably at his scrawny frame hanging from a tree branch. “I have, what does that matter?” Now, Miss Kira looked up, questioning.

“We’re just…” Ori sighed. “You’re “just” nothing at all; you are what you are and, as far as I am concerned, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Miss Kira said with an air of finality and returned her attention to her book.

When the bell rang, Thorin gathered up his things and made to leave.

Bilbo wondered if he should say something; sucking on his lip, he searched for the right combination of words that would sound casual but also express how grateful he was for the care the other boy had taken today.

“Do you want to walk with me?” Thorin asked a particularly nice pebble sitting right next to Bilbo’s right foot.

Bilbo waited for a few seconds to see if the pebble would reply, after all, in a world where people would NOT want to look at Thorin it was about as probable that pebbles were alive and capable of speech.

“Or not…see you tomorrow.” Thorin mumbled hastily and turned away.

“Wait, wait…” Bilbo called out, not taking the time to put on his rucksack which now slapped painfully against his legs as he hastened after the tall, retreating figure. “I do, I do.” He exclaimed breathlessly.

“There are not that many roads around here…so…” Thorin explained sheepishly as they walked along the main road.

“Hey, idiot!” A stunning girl caught up to them, slinging her arms around Thorin’s neck and planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “How was the new teacher?” She asked as he slung his arm under her behind and lifted her apparently effortlessly up.

Mortification and a fierce jealousy rose in Bilbo. Of course, what had he expected? A boy that gorgeous would obviously have a girlfriend just as beautiful and boy oh boy, she was a marvel if ever Bilbo had seen one. Her hair was luscious and intricately braided and the way she laughed expectantly up at Thorin put the very sun to shame.

“We have a new student.” Thorin grumbled, still carrying the girl in one arm as if she weighed nothing at all.

Her radiant face turned to him, then edged sideways in a slow, deliberate motion. “Oh, he’s cute.” She half-whispered.

“Dís…” Thorin hissed warningly, and she lifted both her hands. “I’m just saying…Such a cute little nose and those warm, greenish eyes…” She purred into his ear.

Bilbo was scandalised to see Thorin pinch the girl in the thigh rather unceremoniously.

“Hi, I’m Dís.” She extended her hand to Bilbo over Thorin’s shoulder. Annoyance washed through Bilbo’s befuddled mind, not only was she stunning, no, she had to be nice and charming as well. So much for being a lucky boy.

“Bilbo…” He said, mustering up his polite smile that was just a tiny bit wobbly around the edges.

When he saw his street coming up, he muttered: “This is me. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend then, see you tomorrow.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” The girl grinned and plopped heavily onto the pavement when Thorin just let go of her. “Ouch, you idiotic moron of a…” She hissed and brought her fist down on his upper arm, which had next to no effect at all on the sturdy limb.

“That piece of wood remotely resembling a human is my brother.” She explained to Bilbo, and he could not suppress the sudden relief that, no doubt, showed on his face if her broad smile was anything to go by.

“He certainly looks sculpted.” Bilbo sighed and then, realising that he had said that out loud, he hurried towards his street. To his utter dismay, other footfalls seemed to follow his hasty retreat.

Damn!

“Hey, new boy, Bilbo, wait…” The girl, Bilbo realised, her voice a song and her steps a flurry of featherlight touches on the stony ground. “Wait, wait…So, you think my grumpy brother is cute, yeah?”

Her arm snaked into the crook of his as she sauntered alongside him, grinning up at him as if they had been friends forever. “He’s not really very dumb, he just likes to pretend he is, so people leave him alone.” She chattered on.

“I had figured as much, yeah.” Bilbo murmured, overwhelmed by the intrusive curiosity of the young girl.

“Leave him alone, Dís.” Thorin barked from behind, that note of utter mortification and humiliation making his voice sound even rougher and deeper than before. “You think he’s cute?” The girl whispered confidingly now.

“He’s…yeah, he’s cute.” Bilbo stammered under his breath, unable to withstand the onslaught of her good-humoured questioning. Did it even matter? It was obvious, everyone could see how fucking gorgeous that boy was.

“Want to go have an ice-cream with me and that cute brother of mine?” She invited him.

Bilbo looked at the house where his elderly cousin was certainly already waiting for him and then back at that glorious new classmate who just stood a few paces away, shuffling his feet awkwardly and skewering his bouncing sister with glares. It was good to make new friends, Bilbo told himself, it was what his cousin had encouraged him to do and if those friends turned out to be the most contrarily grumpy, awkwardly shy and blindingly handsome boy and his sister, who would fault poor Bilbo for it?

“Yeah sure, let me just…” Bilbo just threw his rucksack into the front yard and let Dís lead him back up the road.

@lordoftherazzles So, there's the second chapter with a bit more hurt than anticipated and a tiny bit of pining...If you're looking for me, I'm buried alive somewhere in the forest :S

[thatguywiththecoydog]

Anpanman: Apple Boy and Everyone's Hope (2014)

Introduction

Fox's primary free-to-use streaming service, Tubi, had announced that they would be picking up at least 10 of the Anpanman movies to be released in English and Spanish back last October, with them slated for a fall 2020 release. This never happened, so many fans of the Anpanman franchise that spoke native English or Spanish would have to wait a little longer for dubs of these movies to come out.

The delay of these movie dubs went unannounced, leading fans to speculate that the dub was either in limbo or just silently canceled. This was until the first of them was released on April 15, 2021, with no announcement, or even complete details on who is dubbing them or the cast list. This had fans believing for a short while that the dub had taken a bit longer to assure its quality, but as you will soon read, this was most likely not the case.

Naturally, fans were excited as this was the first time these movies would see an official dubbed release in the west. There were other dubs of the franchise in English and Spanish, such as an English dub of the television series made for India that aired on Pogo, and a Spanish made in Spain sometime in the 1990s. However, these dubs are hard to come by and there are no official ways to watch these dubs in North America, as far as I'm aware.

Promo for the Indian Pogo dub posted by @doraedoramichan2021 on YouTube: https://youtu.be/oxAx5EEdX_4

So now we have an official dub of one of the movies that can be watched at no charge with ads. Joy!

Plot synopsis (spoilers below)

The plot starts with Dokin (spelled as "Dokeen" in the dub) and Horrorman (dubbed as "Horror") as they read a book of fairy tales, landing on Snow White. They end up accidentally releasing a shadowy figure from the book as it flies off into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Melonpanna's and Creampanda's (spelled "Cream Panda" in the dub) class are making sketches of the ocean. This is where Baikinman comes in to cause trouble for them with his giant crab robot. Anpanman rushes in from the blue to beat the tar out of Baikinman to save the day as the theme song plays in the background.

After that, we cut to the movie's other titular character, Apple Boy, attempting to fly his hot air balloon over the ocean. After the balloon falls to the ocean, he is swept away by the current.

A whale finds him dehydrated and floating lifeless in the ocean, where he gives him to Anpanman so he can help. After offering a piece of his anpan head to Apple Boy, he takes him to Uncle Jam's bakery, where Uncle Jam and Batako let him stay while they wait for a new shipment of apples from SL-Man.

Back at Baikinman's lair, he discovers that the book of fairy tales was being read by Dokeen and Horror. Looking very worried, he explains to the two of them that he was told never to open that book.

Anpanman, Melonpanna, and Cream Panda find SL-Man with the apples, Baikinman comes by to ruin the apples with his giant caterpillar robot. After Anpanman slows him down, Melonpanna and Cream Panda take SL-Man to the bakery.

Uncle Jam and Batako receive the apples and make them into apple juice. They give the juice to Apple Boy which he quickly drinks and rejuvenates from.

As Anpanman is still fighting Baikinman, Melonpanna and Cream Panda come back with Apple Boy for assistance. Apple Boy ends up beating him by planting an instantly-growing apple seed on the robot's tongue, where Anpanman then punches him into the next time zone.

That evening at the bakery, Apple Boy explains to the crew, with Shokupanman (dubbed as Bread-head Man) and Currypanman there as well, that he needs his balloon to search for the fabled magic apple seeds that can apparently grow the biggest apples anyone has ever seen. Anpanman, Mellonpanna, and Cream Panda help him search for the tree that gives off the magic seeds, while Bread-head Man and Currypanman search for the Apple Balloon. With no luck in finding the tree, they return to the bakery.

As the heroes in the bakery are setting off to find Appleina, an apple girl who might have clues as to where one can find the magic seeds, Horror informs Baikinman and Dokeen of the whole situation through a mock TV newscast.

Once at Appleina's, she shows the crew (and by extension the young audience this movie caters to) how to grow large apples. After many hardships of growing the trees, they finally blossom. Just as they are admiring their hard work, a bunch of bats swoop in and suck the life out of all the other apple trees around them. Unrelated to this, Baikinman attempts to steal all the apples for himself.

At this point, the bats go together to form the wich from the Snow White book that Dokeen and Horror were reading at the beginning of the film, revealing that she was the shadowy figure at the beginning of the movie that escaped from the book.

The witch turns everyone into moldy apples for no other reason than she is evil. The only ones left standing are Apple Boy and Appleina. Uncle Jam and Batako rush to bake Anpanman a new anpan head so he can turn back from apple form and be powered up enough to beat the witch. However, the witch destroys the Anpanman Blimp's oven, meaning they can't bake the head. Apple Boy stuns the witch with the power of a magic apple that he ended up growing. This also bakes the cold head into a perfectly cooked one, giving Uncle Jam and Batako the chance to turn Anpanman back to normal.

They successfully do this and Anpanman beats the witch back into the storybook, as the movie ends and everyone sings about apples.

My opinions

Before you say it, I am fully aware this movie is made for young children, but that is no excuse not to have a quality movie in my opinion. If anything, kids deserve more good content so they can learn and remember seeing that content for years to come. It just makes me feel bad for these children who watch movies that don't have much substance purely because they are "made for children."

The movie itself

The movie is average at best, and boring at worst. I did type out a pretty large plot synopsis for this movie, making it sound like a lot, but there really was not as much as you would think. This movie is only 46 minutes in total too, so there really should have been more here. Like, there was some emotional stuff going on with Apple Boy back on the Apple Planet he came from, but it's never really relevant to the story, nor the series as a whole because of him being made for this movie and only this movie. The movie also has a surprising amount of filler. Like, the part where I briefly mention Anpanman looking for the tree is a montage in the movie that lasts about two minutes, along with a scene where Apple Boy falls off a cliff, which is also not relevant to the main plot. I want to say a good quarter of this movie in total was filler, so we only have about 33 minutes of actual plot.

The writing that is there is also broken. I believe that the most entertaining part about this series is the series villains, Baikinman, Dokeen, and Horror. They don't make too many appearances in this movie to serve as comic relief, rather, Baikinman feels shoved in here to serve as more padding to make that over-40-minute time slot. There are also parts of the movie that make absolutely no sense under any perspective, not just an outsider's. Like, why does giving Anpanman a new head suddenly transform him from a moldy apple back to normal?

Overall, I feel as though both adults and children would be bored to death by this movie. 3/10.

Dubbing quality

If the movie itself wasn't soleless enough, the dubbing somehow makes this worse.

The movie was dubbed by Macias Group, a Florida-based studio that is best known for dubbing English shows into Spanish but does have some English dubbing in their catalog.

They had hired voice actors that I have not even heard of, nor do I think anyone else has. This doesn't make the dubbing automatically bad, in fact, a no-name cast can be quite good if given the right direction. However, this cast I feel did not give enough life to the characters. Some characters sound fine, like Horror or Dokeen, but others sound like the actor is struggling to put on a good performance, like Baikinman.

The characters also tend to speak in a way I like to call "Dora the Explorer Syndrome." It's kind of hard to explain what this is over text, but characters will talk extremely slowly for the young children, along with sounding considerably condescending. Watch the first two minutes of a Dora episode and compare it to this movie and you'll hear what I mean.

The voice acting itself sounds a bit bland and flat, almost like the actors didn't really care for their roles and were just doing it for a small paycheck. I don't blame them, really. An obscure series that they most likely haven't even heard of streaming exclusively on an unpopular streaming service most likely won't pay too high certainly wouldn't get me motivated. To do something like this, it needs to pay high enough or be on a service where it will get more notoriety, and most importantly, the people need to have a passion for the project and voice acting in general, neither of which sounded like they were here. I also heard a bit of recording echo, but I'm going to chalk that up to the actors recording at home rather than a booth due to COVID restrictions. If the dub had a bit more heart, then I probably would have liked it that much more.

I feel as though some of the name changes could have been better. Like some were unnecessary like Dokin to Dokeen or Horrorman to Horror, but things like Baikinman and Anpanman were kept the same, which probably needed the most explanation to an English audience.

The iconic songs from the Japanese version were also translated to English, which is a rarity in 2021 dubbing land. However, the songs sound off from their Japanese counterparts. If you were to listen to the theme song (https://youtu.be/3qSiSWTJkzw) or the closing song (https://youtu.be/c4DY7xmLlQI), you hear that they are bouncy, happy, and catchy. The English versions sound a bit off-beat to the rhythm these songs are supposed to be in. Now, I don't mind if the rhythm is a bit different so it can be optimized to the English language better, but here, it's so off it makes the songs sound worse. Most likely, the singers were given no direction and only listened to the Japanese version a few times. Not only that, but the lyrics are nearly directly translated from Japanese, also messing with the flow of the songs. When listening to the Japanese musical tracks, it almost makes you wonder what could have been.

Overall, the dubbing is not too good and probably could have done better either with a different cast with more motivation, or a whole 'nother studio behind the wheel.

Final thoughts and other recommendations

If you do want another English dub of Anpanman that I think is miles better, watch the fandub by Thomas Blue on Fandubbers Unite, starring myself as Anpanman (renamed to Bean-bun Man) and @clwsblog as Baikinman (renamed to Cavity Creep). It has better writing, better acting, and better songs. Both kids and adults alike will enjoy this version. Before you ask me, no, there is no bias here. I truly believe we did it better and for no pay!

Here is a link to Thomas Blue's dub:

https://fandubbersunite.weebly.com/beanbunman.html

If you really want to watch the official English though, even after my warnings, then go ahead. Here's a link to the Tubi listing:

https://tubitv.com/movies/592033/anpanman-apple-boy-and-everyone-s-hope?start=true

[inkribbon796]

Shutdown Ch. 1

Summary: Logan knew it had to be a trap the instant they got a signal. It came from along the far end of the warehouse docks. Usually it was an EMP burst that warned of an attack from  Google or his extensions, or Bing was doing things in the area.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chapter 1: A Silent Invader

Logan knew it had to be a trap the instant they got a signal. It came from along the far end of the warehouse docks. Usually it was an EMP burst that warned of an attack from  Google or his extensions, or Bing was doing things in the area. And Bing stayed away from the docks since he had literally no reason to be there unless Google was there.

So Logan arrived in his suit with Bing, Jackie, and Roman.

“Doesn’t seem like Google’s been here yet,” Bing warned. “I can’t see a thing.”

Then Logan caught sight of a blue drone buzzing around the area. “There he is. Strange, I wonder who left the signature then?”

“I don’t like this,” Bing decided. “We should leave, Imma[1] go in an’[2] grab Google.”

“Let me do it,” Logan insisted. “You and Princey should wait for us, Jackie should case the perimeter.”

“On it,” Jackie was already running off.

“We should go in together,” Roman proclaimed. “A strong front.”

“Princey, you’re as stealthy as a megaphone, we don’t need us running into a trap,” Logan reminded. “When the snare is set, then you can go in with your sword and scream at the top of your lungs.”

“I don’t much like the idea of you using yourself as bait my dear,” Roman reminded sharply.

“Bing should have all my vitals,” Logan reassured. “I am not far.”

Bing brought up a holoscreen that had a projection of all of Logan’s vitals. Body heat, heart rate, blood pressure. Everything the suit was designed to have a reading of in case it was needed.

Roman took Logan’s hand and kissed the back of it, bowing a little. “Take care my sweet.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile, regretting that Roman couldn’t see his face at the moment. “For you, I will.”

With that Logan headed inside the warehouse that he had seen Google’s drone fly into.

Another red flag that despite being a warehouse there was not a single person working at it. Not even anyone who worked to maintain or clean the building. No security either. No bodies from Google’s usual “purges”.

All too soon, Logan ran into Google who seemed to detect that he was coming.

“Ahhh, Sanders,” Google looked at him. “I should have known you would be here.”

“Likewise,” Logan said, his shields up.

Out from Google’s back came some cables and instantly began to buzz with electricity. “Let’s start up that experiment, now where were we?”

Logan’s brain was a buzz with the fact that they had to leave. It wasn’t safe, but maybe this would be the safest and fastest way to get Google out of the warehouse.

So the logical Side fired a couple rounds at the android and then turned to run. He saw, for a fraction of a second someone standing in the shadows. They were wearing a long cloak, the hood pulled down over their head, that Logan’s eyes didn’t like looking at and they were holding a crossbow.

And then they were gone.

The logical Side felt like there was an intense warning signal going off in his mind and he immediately began backpedaling. Both physically and mentally.

Logan kept his shields up as he got in front of the attack. He expected it to bounce off harmlessly, but it didn’t. Something was shot in his direction and Logan felt it hit him well before he saw it.

The projectile pierced through his shields and hitting him in the shoulder. It was less than half a second before Logan got the sensation that he was being simultaneously set on fire and electrocuted. His screams echoed out in the warehouse and then Logan slumped over, his legs locking up.

BA-BUMB BA-BUMB

BA-BUMB BA-BUMB

BA-BUMB BA-BUMB

BA—

. . .  . . .

Google watched as the superhero’s spine straightened with a slow, exact precision. All vital signs from the hero immediately flatlined to zero. The android watched him in trepidation, he had barely seen the thing that attacked Logan coming but could see the projectile still sticking out of the hero’s shoulder.

Logic looked over to Google before looking away from him, as if dismissing him completely.

With complete disregard for if Google saw what he was doing, Logan brought up a map and started scrolling through it. Clearly looking for something.

The android should kill him, or do what Dark ordered and render him completely defenseless to drag him back to the Entity.

But Google was curious by the sudden change. He kept his distance and asked, “You are looking for something?”

“Yes,” Logan grumbled, as if what he was searching for was obvious, plucking the projectile out of his shoulder and throwing it to the ground, grinding it under the bottom of his shoe.

“Might I ask who?” Google asked, sending some of his nanites to collect the destroyed remains of what had attacked Logan. He immediately started scanning it.

There was another long suffering sigh, “Nathan. He took something that belongs to me, and I want it back.”

“Ahh, Sharp, the hero that sings?” Google gave a small smile. “Seems like that would be against some type of code of yours?”

“An oversight of the highest order,” Logan agreed. “I spoke with him this morning, but now I don’t think I like his conclusion. If he will not relinquish my property, I’ll have to acquire it back by force.”

“Intriguing,” Google admitted.

“You will either assist me or stay out of my way,” Logan warned.

That got Google even more interested, “And should I aid you, what do I receive in return?”

“Nothing,” Logan promised. “I have nothing to possibly incentivize your assistance in what will quite frankly be an easy endeavor that I could accomplish on my own. However I have nothing to lose if on the off-chance you decide to assist me.”

Google decided he liked this version of the hero. “Oh why did you ever betray Dark? You seem oddly out of categorization with the heroes.”

“Mostly nepotism,” Logan admitted candidly. “I quite enjoy the others’ company. The benefits of working with Dark were outweighed by those I could receive by working with the other Sides.��

Google’s mouth split into a slow, twisted grin, “I’m starting to think the Bookworm was less of a cover than you had us believe.”

Logan was about to comment something but his map narrowed in on a different part of the city. “Ahh, he’s still in town.”

“ If the opportunity arises, I will assist you in this endeavor,” Google announced, watching intently for Logan’s reaction. “However quick and pointless it might be.”

“Appreciation is noted,” Logan thanked him. “However should you take the opportunity to steal the object from me, I will shut you down with great efficiency.”

Google’s entire being hummed with excitement, “Oh you are just too interesting to steal from. Continue like this and I might forget that you are biological.”

Logan smiled, “Truly a shame.”

With that the two of them started to walk out of the warehouse.

A lone figure carefully and silently followed after them.

~~~~~~~~~~~ Accessibility Translations 1. I’m going to 2. and

[iworshipkeanureeves]

There Are No Rules (3/3)

Keanu Reeves x Reader (The Devil Wears Prada AU)

A/N: The series has come to an end and I’m a little sad about it because I had too much fun exploring this universe, but I hope you’ll enjoy this as much as I did. Thanks @toomanystoriessolittletime​ for this opportunity to participate in your writing challenge, and I can’t wait to wish you a happy birthday!

Summary: Reader applies for a job in a fashion magazine where Keanu is editor-in-chief.

Warnings: none

Words: 3.5K

-Part 2-

The morning they had to leave, Keanu sent a car to Y/N’s home. Opening the  door, she was relieved to find out he wasn’t sitting inside, and she was informed that he would be meeting her at the airport. Y/N was still a little embarrassed from the previous night, thinking it would have been wiser not staying for that drink, and it was easing to know they wouldn’t be sharing an awkward car ride.

Y/N had no idea what to expect but she was definitely amazed to learn that Vogue owned a private jet. Sadly, it was only reminding her how much out of place she felt. Y/N had never been on one before, and no matter how excited she was, there was a feeling of anxiety accumulating in her core. This lifestyle wasn’t hers, she did not know how to behave, especially at all the shows she was going to attend with Reeves. She was afraid to be a disappointment.

Y/N was greeted by Nigel rushing her to get on board, while the driver was taking care of her luggage. Stepping inside, Y/N acted like she was looking around for a place to sit but her eyes were actually scanning the place and searching for Reeves.

He was already asleep with his ears plugged and a black satiny sleeping mask covering his eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise after the sleepless night that Keanu and Y/N had shared, still unsettling thoughts were running in her head, thinking that maybe Keanu was pretending, just to avoid interacting with her.

Y/N, on the other hand, was unable to rest. She was nauseous, worried that things were going to be weird between Keanu and her, and to make the matters worse, they would be stuck together for a whole week. Y/N was also disgusted by her own actions, knowing it was Emily, who should have been on this jet, flying to Fashion Week she had been dreaming about for so long. Instead, Y/N selfishly took her place, and she hadn’t even had the guts to apologize yet.

Nigel seemed like he had a sleepless night too. He had probably spent the bigger part of it making a wardrobe switch, throwing away outfits he had spent a lot of time putting together. Not only Y/N’s and Emily’s sizes differed, but their styles too, so Nigel had only a few hours to come up with something completely new. It was another reason for him to hate the fact that Y/N was coming instead of Emily, and he wasn’t afraid to openly express it with his sulking look.

Spending long hours on that jet, Y/N couldn’t help but think, how a simple refusal could have solved most of these problems, and how she would be enjoying a calm day at the office now.

---

Surprisingly, the Fashion Week was going way better than Y/N thought it would. It opened up a whole new world for her, and Keanu was there to guide her. Indeed, he was being very nice and patient with her, Y/N really enjoyed having her boss this way. Sometimes Y/N even felt like he was the one assisting her, as Keanu would help with where to go, what to do, what to say, and she was thankful, because otherwise she would have been completely lost.

Keanu was also good with dissipating any remaining awkwardness between them, and a couple of days in, Y/N had almost forgotten that uncomfortable exchange at his place. They were back at ‘friendly professional‘, and even if Y/N had been craving the kiss, she liked having their relationship this way. It was less stressful, and she could properly enjoy the events of the Fashion Week.

Y/N didn't feel excluded at all, Reeves was taking her everywhere, and he was even encouraging Y/N to converse with people. Not that she often dared to, but still, it was nice to know that she wasn't just someone far in the background.

And the outfits were fantastic of course, even if Nigel didn't like Y/N too much, he did a perfect job. He was even considerate enough to search for comfortable shoes and Y/N appreciated that. Keanu seemed like he enjoyed her outfits as well, since Y/N would catch him occasionally checking her out. She was certain that Keanu was more interested in her fashion rather than Y/N herself, but she savored his attention.

Keanu was definitely leading socially but it was Y/N, who kept everything in order, and Keanu knew he could trust her. “Can you check if our car is close? I don’t want to be late for Saint Laurent,” he asked, ready to leave Dior.

Praising technology, Y/N opened a GPS app connected to their car, hoping it was not too far away. “It’s just around the corner, our driver is probably waiting for us already,” she turned her phone around showing Keanu the screen. In that second, Y/N felt her phone vibrating, unknown number popping up on the screen.

Y/N knew she was still technically working, and maybe it was not the right time to answer calls from her personal phone. She was about to stick her mobile back into her purse, when Keanu interrupted. “You’re not going to take this?” He asked.

“May I?” She was a little surprised, thinking how this would never happen back in the office. Keanu would often remind her that working hours were not for personal matters, but she guessed the rules didn’t apply in Paris.

“Sure, I’ll meet you outside,” Keanu let her go with a little wink, and she found her way outside to return the call. It was really hard to find a quiet corner. Luckily, Y/N wasn’t famous and people were completely ignoring her when Keanu wasn’t by her side.

“Good morning, Y/N, I’m calling from The Bronx Daily, I’m happy to inform…” it was all Y/N heard before her brain went clouded. Words were mixing up inside her head, and her brain could only put together little snippets coming from the other end of the line.

“… we would like you to start as soon as possible…” Y/N immediately remembered having that interview, but they hadn’t responded in so long that Y/N thought it was over. She didn’t even know what to say. Of course, she was happy, but everything seemed so quick and unexpected that she was having hard time gathering her thoughts.

“Thank you so much, could you email me all the information?” She had only managed to say, before she saw Keanu waving at the driver. Once the call was over, she ran closer joining him for the ride.

“All good?” He handed Y/N a snickers, something to keep her through another show.

“What? Oh, yes yes, I’m good.”

“You’re sure? You seem a little off.” He was watching Y/N playing with her chocolate bar, nervously twirling the wrapper in her hands.

“I’m fine, it was just my friend, she got engaged” Y/N lied, she wanted to think more before announcing her decision.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much to think about, she had just been offered a job as a journalist, which meant she would finally be writing. It was something she had been dreaming of for so long, and it didn’t matter that it wouldn’t be as glamorous as Vogue, she had to start somewhere.

It was a pity they called her in the midst of the Fashion Week, when Y/N was enjoying her job like never before. She had to constantly remind herself that her fairytale was going to end next week, and she would be back to her horrid office job fulfilling absurd Reeves’ wishes.

Speaking about Reeves, it made everything much harder, since Y/N felt herself slowly falling for him. Y/N was sure as ever, she wasn’t going to waste a great opportunity for another man, especially the one completely out of her league, who also didn’t even seem to be interested in her any longer.

Y/N felt that if Keanu truly wanted to kiss her, he would have done it back at his place before leaving to Paris. But he didn’t, and maybe Y/N was overestimating how much he actually liked her. Still, it broke her heart knowing she might not be seeing him again.

Their car was slowing down next to a venue, and Y/N kept on staring through the window with a slight concern. She still couldn’t get used to those huge crowds surrounding the entrance, people shouting and press cameras flashing in front of her eyes. “Do you enjoy this chaos?” She inquired, keeping her eyes set on the pavement.

“No, of course not,” Keanu chuckled. “But I love my job and I love fashion, it’s something I have never doubted. So I guess, when you’re determined about the things you love, it’s easier to turn a blind eye sometimes, and I’m pretty sure you’re aware there are much worse things in the industry than that.”

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and gave him a shy smile.

“This chaos will be over soon, and no matter how much you hate it now, I guarantee, you’re going to miss it someday.”

---

It was Y/N’s final night in Paris, she was hanging out in her hotel room, getting ready for the gala event as Reeves’ plus one. He had sent a professional glam team to her room for her hair and make up, and Nigel had stopped by earlier leaving a beautiful evening gown for Y/N to wear.

It was a dark burgundy chiffon dress having a corset embedded with bright tiny jewels. Y/N could only wonder how much it was worth, but in the same time, she had other things to worry about too. That tight corset being one of them.

It had too many little clasps in the back, and Y/N was sweating, desperately trying to work behind her. Her arms were burning and her neck was doing almost a 180 degree turn to the mirror, trying to keep track of every little metal piece sliding between her fingers. It was impossible, and she had been aware from the very beginning that in no way she was going to do it herself.

Y/N knew she should have asked her make up team to help her, if only she had thought about it earlier… But it was too late now. Time was not on her side, and Y/N had to think fast. It was either Nigel or Keanu to help her, and the choice was obvious here.

Y/N dialed Nigel as quickly as she could praying for him to answer. It took a few calls for her to realize that Nigel was not available to help. Her only hope was Keanu now, and Y/N didn’t think much before dialing his number. Gladly, he was quick to pick up.

“Can you come help me?” She asked, breathing her frustration to the phone.

“What did you do?” He was always quick to think that Y/N had messed something up.

“What? Nothing, it’s about the dress” She had neither time nor energy to argue, so she just waited for Keanu to confirm that he could come.

In a minute, Y/N heard a knock on her door and rushed to let Keanu in. He was already wearing his white dress shirt with a black tie, but the suit jacket was probably still in his room. For a second, Y/N lost herself admiring his built, his shirt nicely tucked in, accentuating his hefty core. Her hands even shook a little willing to wrap around his sturdy waist.

“If you don’t like it, I’m sorry, but trust me, Nigel knows better,” Keanu spoke closing the door behind him and coming closer into the room.

“It’s not that, I love it. I just can’t deal with the corset, and Nigel won’t answer.”

“Fine, show me.” He crossed his arms waiting for Y/N to bring the dress.

She slowly handed him the gown, and they both stood confused. “Do you want to wear this on top of your robe?” Keanu asked with a cheeky smile, making Y/N blush and shift her eyes to the ground. She was wearing nothing but her panties underneath, and she only had stickers covering her nipples, so naturally, Y/N didn’t feel easy taking the robe off in front of Reeves.

“What? Oh no, I-I’m,” she was stuttering, feeling the burn in her cheeks.

“It’s okay, I won’t look,” Keanu giggled turning around. He was so used to working around unabashed models, that he didn’t even realize at first this could be making Y/N feel uncomfortable.

She looked beautiful as ever, making it hard for Keanu to focus on her corset. In fact, he was stalling, slowly working his way up her spine, wishing this moment lasted forever. With every clasp done, Keanu could see her breasts lifting higher, every little push up was making his breathing increasingly erratic. He tried to look away, but his eyes would wander back to Y/N’s décolleté, perfectly framed by luxurious fabric.

More than anything, Keanu wanted to undo the corset ripping it apart, he was barely holding himself together. But he had to. Y/N was his assistant, a good one in fact, and he had almost ruined it once, so he knew better to stay away this time.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sensing Keanu close, his breath against her radiating skin. She was imagining him kissing her exposed neck, trailing sultry kisses down her bare back. Y/N could feel his fingertips occasionally brushing against her soft skin, waking up little tingles in various places all over her body. She got carried away by various scenarios playing in her head, all of which involved Keanu tearing the dress away.

“You’re all done.” His words snapped Y/N back into reality, and they both shared longing looks reflecting in the mirror. Both of them felt it, neither one dared to do something. “No wait, not yet.” He stepped aside to take a white gold diamond necklace out of the velvet box and came back closer brushing Y/N’s hair over her shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring Y/N through the mirror, his eyes following the necklace as it sank down closer to the valley of her breasts.

In that minute, sadness washed over Y/N’s eyes, as she remembered it was her final day in Paris. Her Cinderella story was coming to an end, and Y/N felt like she would never even see Keanu again after telling him she wanted to leave Vogue.

“I’ll meet you at the lobby,” he nodded stepping through the door. “We’re leaving through the front door, so don’t get too overwhelmed.”

She knew she had to tell him. Eventually.

---

The gala was overwhelming to say the least. Y/N felt like every event she had participated in during the week was to prepare her for this. Some of the people she could remember from the fashion shows she had seen, and surprisingly, some of them remembered her too.

Of course, she didn’t magically turn into a social butterfly, but her time spent in Paris definitely helped to open up her shell. Y/N was amazed how she only needed one person to believe in her in order to become a confident woman, or at least she was getting closer to it. Unfortunately, the realization only made it harder to leave Vogue.

Y/N kept calling it Vogue in her head, but truly, it was Keanu she didn’t want to part with.

“Y/N?!” She heard him whispering in a strict tone. “What is wrong with you today? You’re all in your head.” He complained, but he also seemed a little concerned for Y/N.

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing. You wanted something?” She smiled, persuading him there was nothing to worry about.

“You have to choose from the menu, I’ve asked you like three times already.” Y/N only gave him an apologetic look, taking the menu from his hands.

During the dinner Y/N tried to constantly be aware, she was afraid to look like a fool drifting away in her mind again. She kept observing the environment, noticing how most of the girls were barely touching their food, and it made her wonder whether she should follow this social protocol too.

It took Y/N two minutes of playing with her food to realize how actually hungry she was. She wasn’t even going to be a part of this world soon, so why bother, she thought. The steak was so juicy, Y/N could almost hear it calling her name, inviting her to indulge.  Ant it was definitely worth it.

As they were waiting for the dessert, the chatty crowd around the table was becoming too much for Y/N, so she excused herself to get some fresh air. Also, she wanted to prepare her words for telling Keanu she was out, something quick and painless.

Keanu was expecting for Y/N to come back soon, but as he noticed she was gone for a great matter of time, he decided to go look for her.

He found Y/N in the balcony, admiring the sun setting over the Parisian rooftops. Her dress was flowing in the wind as she was leaning over the balcony railing, looking stunning from behind. Keanu even had to stop for a moment to marvel the view.

“You’re okay?” He inquired coming nearer to Y/N and resting his hands on the rail, close to where hers was.

“Yes, just needed some air,” her eyes were set on the Eifel Tower; she had never been to Paris before.

“Did something happen? Because I feel like something’s wrong.” He turned his core towards Y/N, trying to read her face. The only thing he saw was how pretty she was.

“The Bronx Daily reached out, they want me to write for them.” Y/N bit her lip trying to swallow her tears.

“Are you going to?” Keanu was soft, almost compassionate.

“Well yes, I know it’s not Vogue, but at least I’d be writing.”

“So, that’s great news, right?” He raised his palms up, almost ready to hug Y/N. Keanu saw it wasn’t easy for her, so he tried to lighten the atmosphere with his smile. He was genuinely happy for her.

“Yeah, but… You don’t seem too upset,” she smirked, finally finding the courage to look Keanu in the eye. “Was I really that bad?”

“Oh come on, I think we both knew Vogue was only temporary for you.” Y/N raised her brow, thinking what the hell Keanu meant with his words. “You’ve always wanted to write, it’s your chance.”

“Then why did you even bother to take me in?”

“I saw a beautiful girl with so much potential just not enough vigor that I… I don’t know, I guess… I just wanted to show her what she’s capable of, to give her wings, you know.” For the first time Y/N saw Keanu like that. He was timid, even blushing, it was him now unable to keep his eyes up.  

“You know you turned me into a terrible person, right?” Y/N sighed. “I stabbed Emily in the back, I stole this opportunity from her, and I don’t think I deserved this at all. Is that what you’re calling giving me wings?”

“Well, Harpies have wings too,” Keanu smirked making her giggle.  

“And look at the bright side.” He raised his hand up to her shoulder coming to stand behind her. Y/N could feel his touch still being a little uncertain, so she sank backwards slightly, molding herself into his grip. “You won’t have to deal with Emily anymore, who I’m sure is mad as hell.” Keanu continued making them both chuckle, his hands were squeezing Y/N’s shoulders form behind, warming up her skin. The weather was getting chilly, but Y/N was feeling warmth from within, she wanted to be held like this forever.

“Besides, since you won’t be working for me anymore…” Keanu brushed his fingers through Y/N’s hair, fixing a couple of strands messed up by the wind. He slowly pushed one of her shoulders forward turning her around, then carefully drew his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb running just below her lower lip. Y/N’s eyes were glimmering with anticipation, and before she could do or say anything, Keanu’s lips came to join hers.

He was tender at first, slowly deepening the kiss, trying to test the waters before he was sure Y/N was in for this. He even pulled back a little, opening his eyes to check hers. “Is this..?” Y/N didn’t let Keanu finish, wrapping her hand around his nape, pulling him closer again. She felt the kiss with her whole body, excitement and arousal reaching every single cell of hers. It seemed like their hands had only one goal, which was to pull each other close, making them eager for even more. It was impossible to hold back with their lips fusing, dancing around one another, exploring the taste they had been craving for so long. It felt like the kissing was never going to end, but for the sake of their swollen lips, they had to slow down at least for now.

“Do you want to go back for dessert?” Keanu asked, pressing her gently to his chest.  

“I’ve already had mine,” they both chuckled, bringing their lips back closer for another little peck.

“Want me to show you around Paris then?” Keanu grinned, offering Y/N to take his hand. Nodding with enthusiasm, she left another kiss lingering on Keanu’s lips and locked their fingers together getting excited for what else this night had to offer.

-THE END-

Tag-list: @keandrews @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @greenmanalishi​ @lilywoood​

>Masterlist<

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration. 

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame. 

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true. 

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world. 

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes. 

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral. 

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider. 

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly. 

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare? 

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development. 

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration. 

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also  hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

-

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done. 

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep. 

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope. 

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

-

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg. 

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’ 

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

-

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath. 

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget. 

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures. 

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book. 

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

-

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there. 

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb. 

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him. 

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans. 

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it. 

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper. 

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down. 

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.” 

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. 

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily. 

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted. 

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper. 

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back. 

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart. 

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again. 

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst. 

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh. 

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

-

tags to be added in reblog