#( did i ever tell you i deflected three guardian beams at once?? )

[hylian-champion]

@origcmibird​: "Check what?"

        “Check this perfect picture I got of a Guardian.” Or four. All red beams set on the Hylian in the photo while he smiled away the danger. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, this one’s worth a lot of questions.

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.

Read on Ao3

Or keep reading here

“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.

 Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.

 He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.

 Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.

 “Is there a way in?” Sin asked.

 “There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.

 There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.

 Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.

 Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.

 “I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.

 “Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”

 Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”

 “Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.

 “Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.

 Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently. 

 He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.

 Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.

 Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.

 Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.

 He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down. 

 Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”

 “I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”

 “Wrong answer.”

 Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.

 Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.

 These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.

 No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.

 There! A door at the far wall. 

 Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.

 The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.

 “The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”

 “Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.

 “You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”

 “I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.

 The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”

 “When who’s ready?”

 But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.

 It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.

 Only fighting and surviving.

Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.

 The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?

 The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.

 Great, now she was rambling in her head.

 She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”

 “Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.

 “Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.

 “We have a mutual friend.”

 “Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.

 The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

 “Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”

 “If it’s on a map, I can find it.”

 “Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”

 “That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.

 It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit? 

 She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible. 

 Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.

 “Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.

 Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.

 “You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.

 The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.

 “I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”

 She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment. 

 “Where is he?”

 Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.

 Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.

 “That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

 Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.

 Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second. 

 “She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.

 “Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.

 For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.

 “The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”

 “Can you elaborate?”

 “Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”

 “Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”

 “Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.

 “Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”

 A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.

 “...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”

 His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.

 She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.

 “Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”

 She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.

 “Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”

 Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.

 “I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.

Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.

 “What did you find?”

 Oliver’s voice reached her first.

 “Lance has a spy.”

 He shook his head.

 “Not possible. No one knows about this.”

 Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”

 “I don’t have friends.”

 She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.

 Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.

 “You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”

 “Yeah,” he confirmed.

 “Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”

 He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”

 “Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.

 “You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.

 Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.

 “Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.

 “What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”

 “Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.

 Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”

 Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.

 Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.

 “His name was Yao Fei.”

 “Who?”

 “You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”

 She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?

 Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.

 “Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.

 While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.

 “You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”

 “A what?” Dig asked.

 “It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”

 The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.

 “They must have planted it on you during the fight.”

 Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”

 Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.

 “This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”

 “Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”

 “No. Give it to me.”

 Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”

 He took a step forward.

 “There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”

 Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.

 “Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.” 

 He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word. 

 Rage fit better.

 “Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.

 He narrowed his eyes.

 “Promise me you’ll come back.”

 Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.

 Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

 He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.

 “Dig. Take care of her.”

 Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.

 They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble. 

 Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.

 “He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”

[ewankoseyo]

soft || jaebum imagine

A/N: I actually have another request that I’m working on but I wanted to take a break from Mark for a little bit and do a Jaebum imagine instead (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) now I’m feeling hella soft for the guy lol

“Hi there! Can I request a very fluffy college Jaebum imagine where everyone is intimidated by him and thinks he’s big and scary (because he is) to everyone but his girlfriend (the reader) when it comes to her he’s so soft and mushy and although he appears to be very intimidating to his classmates, only his girlfriend sees how adorable he is (homeboy has 5 cats and is obsessed with Bart Simpson and strawberry milk and antis still claim he’s mean guuuuuurl IDGI) Thank you!🥰💚”

——

Yugyeom swore you had secret powers or something.

When Jinyoung had ordered him to ask Jaebum if they could use his car to help the community service club officers transport supplies across campus, Yugyeom greatly refused. Approaching the Im Jaebum was a suicide mission. His resting scowl served as a warning to anyone even thinking of trying to talk to him.

Rumor had it that he got into a physical altercation with a new TA the year before—reasoning behind the fight still a mystery—resulting the TA’s first and last year at the university. With Jaebum still attending school, his influence over everyone went unquestioned.

So just don’t mess with Jaebum—don’t even think of approaching him with anything—and you’d be fine.

Unfortunately there were too many supplies that needed to be transported and Jaebum had the extra car they needed to help move things. And Yugyeom, being one of the newer members of the club, knew he couldn’t disobey President Park Jinyoung.

He didn’t even know how or why Jaebum joined the club.

(Of course Yugyeom knew it was in his best interest not to ask.)

“J-jaebum-hyung, I mean Jaebum-sunbaenim...” Yugyeom gulped, mentally kicking himself for his minor slip-up. As Jaebum removed one of his earbuds and glared menacingly up at the younger boy, Yugyeom slowly accepted the fact that he was a dead man.

“Yes?” His voice was venomous. Jaebum raised his eyebrow, as if challenging Yugyeom to pick his next words wisely. Yes, what is so important that you need to interrupt me working and make me pause my music? he seemed to say.

“I just, uh...” Did the room just get hotter? Why was he sweating all of a sudden? Yugyeom gulped again. “I-I was wondering—the club was just wondering...” Shoot, Jaebum looked mad. Yugyeom was dead, he was absolutely gonna die.

Like a guardian angel, you seemed to come out of nowhere. “Sunbaenim,” you started softly, giving Jaebum a gentle smile. “I think what Yugyeom is trying to say is we were wondering if we could use your car tomorrow? We are moving some stuff across campus for the mixer event and the officers need one extra car to help. Is that okay?”

Yugyeom was fully prepared to protect you from Jaebum’s wrath, though unaware of how to, until—

“Sure,” Jaebum answered abruptly before putting his earbud back in. “Whatever you say, Ms. VP.”

“Thanks Sunbaenim, I appreciate it.” You smiled sweetly at him before turning to Yugyeom. “Yugyeom, could you go help Youngjae and Bambam set up chairs for the meeting? I have to go over the presentation with Jinyoung.”

“Sure thing, Noona.” As you left, Yugyeom could only stand there and attempt to process what just happened. Did Jaebum just...comply with someone? And did the corners of his mouth perk up a little?

Was that supposed to be him smiling?

Jaebum yanked out his earbuds again and glared at Yugyeom. “Why are you still here? She asked you to go set up.”

“Right, sorry.” Yugyeom laughed nervously, giving the brooding boy a little wave before heading in the direction of his friends.

Yup, you definitely had secret powers.

——

Bambam didn’t believe Yugyeom when he said he saw Jaebum smile.

Im Jaebum didn’t smile at people. He scowled. Or if you were lucky, he completely disregarded you, letting you live another day.

Bambam made it a point to never have to interact with Jaebum. Unlike Yugyeom, he knew how to deflect from situations and preferred to stay alive.

Though Bambam never accounted for accidental run-ins.

He only meant to grab his water bottle that he forgot at the club mixer and bounce, he didn’t mean to overhear a conversation he wasn’t supposed to.

“Baby, please don’t cry anymore, it hurts my heart to see you cry.”

Was that...

“Oppa, I worked so hard on that project, I don’t understand why the professor gave me a zero. I’ve never failed an assignment.”

Bambam peered behind a pole to see you and Jaebum down in the stairwell. Jaebum was crouching against the wall, looking up at you with the kindest eyes that Bambam had ever seen.

“Your professor probably didn’t actually grade it yet and maybe just put that assignment in there as a hold. If he keeps the grade like that, I’ll march with you to his office and help you make him change his mind,” Jaebum assured you with the most gentle voice. “Now please don’t cry, Princess. Would you smile for me, for Oppa? Please?”

It took Bambam everything in him to stifle back a laugh. After seemingly getting a smile out of you, Jaebum stood up, his grin meeting yours.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, wiping your tears with his thumb before pulling you into his chest for a hug. As Jaebum looked up contentedly after kissing the top of your head, he noticed—

Shit, Bambam thought to himself. I’m a dead man, a dead dead man.

The smile on Jaebum’s face left as soon as he saw Bambam. Holding you closer to him so you let yourself bury your face in his chest, Jaebum gave Bambam a murderous look.

Leave before she notices, it seemed to say. And if I hear you tell ANYBODY about this...

Bambam quietly went back upstairs before Jaebum could finish the implied threat.

Maybe Yugyeom was right sometimes...

——

“And then he was like ‘don’t cry Princess, smile for Oppa!’”

Youngjae and Yugyeom broke into a heap of giggles as Bambam reenacted for them the encounter he watched.

“See? What did I tell you?” Yugyeom managed to get out through his laughter. “Noona makes Jaebum-sunbaenim—”

“Soft?”

The three boys immediately cut off their laughing fit, silently saying a prayer to themselves as they addressed the older boy now standing before them.

“Sunbaenim,” Bambam attempted to say casually. “I didn’t know—”

Jaebum glowered at Bambam. “No, go on, finish your story. And then what did I do?”

Bambam laughed nervously. “It’s okay...I don’t think that’s necess—”

“I said. Finish. Your story,” Jaebum spat out. Youngjae and Yugyeom exchanged subtle amused looks, both of them stifling back a laugh. Jaebum turned to them and pounded the table they were sitting at, causing them to jump in their seats. “You punks think this is funny?!”

“Sunbaenim,” you uttered from behind. Bambam and Youngjae were finally understanding what Yugyeom meant when he said you had secret powers. You gently took Jaebum’s arm. “Could you come help me move some tables? They’re too heavy to push around by myself.” You pulled him along with you after beaming at the younger club members. “See you later, boys.”

Jaebum visibly relaxed from his agitated state as he followed you, slowly lacing his fingers through yours. Noticing him look at you fondly, the three boys broke into another fit of laughter once you were both out of sight and earshot.

“Yeah, he’s definitely wrapped around her finger.”

——

[kasienda]

An Open Secret - Chapter Three

I apparently forgot to post this update here on Tumblr when I updated this last week. But my ML Secret Santa fic for @ladybuginettes​ still continues because I survived hell week! Yay!! 

...

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Advice

Something was up with Adrien. Something had changed dramatically in his entire demeanor in the last thirty-six hours. Nino didn’t know what it was exactly, but it was definitely something. Something good if Adrien’s expression was anything to go by. His friend hopped out of his car beaming like a kid headed to an amusement park for the first time in his life and not a teenager headed to yet another routine day of school. His smile was so bright it could light up the moon! The blond waved enthusiastically to his bodyguard who scowled back even as he drove away.

“Mornin’ dude!” Nino greeted, holding his right hand up and open. Adrien clapped into it and pulled Nino into a vigorous hug.

“Nino!” Adrien exclaimed with far more enthusiasm than normal. “Beautiful day isn’t it?!”

Nino’s brown eyes glanced upward. The sky was grey, blanketed in a heavy layer of clouds that threatened rain, or maybe even hail. The wind was so cold Nino could see his breath and he was especially grateful for his headphones today which were serving double duty in delivering awesome tunes and offering his ears just a bit of extra protection from the biting cold.

“If you say so, mec,” Nino agreed with a laugh.

Adrien bounded up the stairs two at a time with a literal bounce in his step as if his exuberance alone could banish the ominous weather. Nino chuckled. Alya had dubbed Adrien the sunshine child for a reason.

Nino increased his own pace to catch up at the top of the stairs. “What’s up with you, dude?”

“I’m grounded,” Adrien reported gleefully as the two of them slipped through the double doors and into the school’s main lobby.

“You’re grounded?” Nino repeated in surprise.

“Yup!”

“Okay…” Nino drawled. “You don’t seem upset.”

“It was worth it,” Adrien admitted, his vibrant green eyes lost their focus as he was clearly lost in memories of whatever had been worth it.

Nino smiled. “What did you do to get grounded?”

“I let my phone die and then disappeared the whole day,” Adrien explained as he opened his locker and exchanged a few notebooks.

“You turned it off so Nathalie couldn’t track you down,” Nino concluded. He had given Adrien this suggestion before for avoiding his overbearing guardians.

“Exactly. Thanks for that tip by the way.” Adrien grinned as he offered a fist bump. Nino reciprocated. “I tried to say I was caught up in the akuma attack. She wasn’t fooled. I guess that was stupid. That attack lasted what? Five minutes?”

“So… why were you giving Nathalie the dodge?” If Nino didn’t know better he’d swear Adrien was trying to avoid talking about whatever had made him so happy.

“Oh! I was…” Adrien blushed all the way down to his neck. His hand rubbed the spot nervously. “Uh… I was hanging out with Mari.”

Nino grinned. Alya was going to love this development! “That’s a new nickname.”

Adrien’s face burned even redder. “Is it? I swear I’ve heard people call her that.”

Adrien closed his locker, and they walked in step towards Nino’s.

“Not you though,” Nino commented, his footfalls echoing through the mostly empty hallway.

“I… guess not.”

Read on Ao3 Read on FF.net

“So, what’d you and Mari do?”

“We played Mecha Strike. She kicked my ass a bunch!” The blond sounded positively gleeful about it. “And then we ate a bunch of pastries her dad made. But mostly we just talked. I haven’t had so much fun in ages.”

“Should I be jealous?” Nino asked with a playful shoulder bump as he turned the combo into his own locker. It opened with a click.

“What?! What for?” Adrien’s green eyes turned to him, swirling in anxiety.

“Dude! Chill. I’m teasing you. What’s going on with you and Mari anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Adrien deflected, looking away, over Nino’s shoulder to their peers walking through the hall.

Nino smirked. It was obvious that Adrien knew what he was talking about and just stalling. It was rare to see his friend so flustered, and Nino wasn’t going to lie. He kinda thought it was hilarious.

“With Marinette?” Nino prompted. “Three days ago, you were awkward as hell around one another. Now, you’re thick as thieves. What changed?”

Adrien leaned casually against the locker adjacent to Nino’s and stared upwards at the ceiling. “Honestly? It’s difficult to explain. Let’s just say that it was easier to get to know her when she stopped being so nervous around me. And man, we really get along and have a ton in common!”

“What made her get over her nerves?" Nino asked. Alya was losing her mind over it. It was like one day Marinette had just flipped a switch and went from disaster Marinette to suave confident and sassy Marinette. Nino was proud of their friend, but of course his girlfriend wanted to know the why’s and how’s of everything!

He loved that about her.

Adrien shrugged. "You'd have to ask Marinette."

“You like her?” Nino closed his locker. But they didn’t turn towards class, and instead lingered in the hallway.

“Umm… yeah?” Adrien admitted, his face blooming with pink. “A lot more than I realized. Is that weird? I know you had feelings for her.”

Nino laughed. “Don’t worry, mec. I’m with Alya now. Totally happy.”

Adrien let out a sigh and his whole form loosened.  

“You were worried I would be upset?” Nino questioned with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah?” Adrien admitted with another blush. “I’m sorry. It’s silly. The last few days have been amazing, and I just keep expecting things to go wrong.”

“No worries man. If you want, Alya and I could set you and Mari up!”

“Thanks Nino. I appreciate the offer, but actually... I don’t know if I want Alya involved.”

“You have a problem with my girl, bro?” Nino teased with mock hostility.

“No? I mean, maybe?”

Nino arched an eyebrow at his best friend again.

“No offense dude, but your girlfriend is intense!” Adrien exclaimed.  

Nino laughed. “Trust me, I know.” He loved that about her.

Mylene and Ivan walked past hand in hand. Mylene waved at them while Ivan offered a nod. Adrien and Nino waved back casually.

“And it’s not just that,” Adrien added after their classmates turned the corner. “I kinda want to let things develop on their own. You know that girl I was crushing on?”

“The one you work with?” Nino supplied. He never had a name to go with Adrien’s mystery crush. His friend had always been paranoid his father would get wind of things and no longer let him work with her.

“Yeah, her. Well, I rushed things with her and I messed everything up. I… I don’t want that to happen again by confessing too soon.” Adrien tapped the toe of his foot on the floor restlessly.  

“I get it man. I will try to get Alya to chill, but you know she’s been an Adrinette shipper almost since she met you both.”

“A what?” Adrien asked. His face had gone scarlet again.

“Yeah, she has been rooting for the Adrinette ship almost as hard as Ladynoir.”

If anything, Adrien’s blush deepened. His face was now almost as red as Ladybug’s suit!

“Just be warned. Now that Mari’s finally turned your head, I may not be able to hold Alya back.” Not that he ever could. Alya was like a force of nature. He loved that about her.

“I-if Alya has been shipping Marinette and I… does that mean Marinette likes me?” Adrien’s green eyes drilled into him beseechingly, begging for answers.

Nino tensed.

“No no, don’t tell me,” Adrien insisted, waving away his question as he looked away. “If Marinette liked me, I’m sure she’d have told me herself.”

Nino sighed. It’s not like she hadn’t tried.

“But maybe you could answer a different question…?” Adrien turned back to his friend, his eyes troubled.

Nino smiled and gestured for his friend to go on.

“Do you know why I used to make her so anxious?” The blond looked so dejected. Nino wanted to fix it, but how could he without explaining?

“Dude! You really should ask Marinette about that! But I promise it’s nothing you did! And it’s nothing bad. In fact, I think you should just forget about it, and just tell her how you feel.”

Adrien sighed. “It’s not that easy, Nino. I overheard that she likes someone, but I didn’t catch who. If she likes someone, I don’t want to disrespect that by asking her out. I don’t want to make her mad. She deserves to be with the person she wants. Even if that person isn’t me.”

Nino wasn’t going to lie. He almost laughed. If his boy only knew! Plus, He found it hilarious that Adrien Agreste, a teenage model and celebrity who was rich and talented, had doubts about girls. Of course, Marinette wasn’t superficial like that, but still!

“Asking her out doesn’t mean she has to say yes. You’re just being honest that you think she’s amazing and are interested in something more. The ball is in her court at that point. She gets to decide what to do with it.”

The bell rang.

“What if she says no?” Adrien’s voice was so quiet, barely louder than a whisper. Nino almost didn’t hear him above the sudden bustle of activity as students moved at the signal to head to class.

Nino could not picture that eventuality. It just didn’t seem possible that Marinette would ever say no to Adrien. Maybe in some crazy alternate universe.

“Then you’ll still have an awesome friend! Because Marinette would never let something like a confession get in the way of you being friends.”

Adrien was silent for awhile. Then he turned back with a smile. “Thanks Nino! You’re right. Marinette will always be my friend if nothing else.”

And they headed towards class with Adrien’s smile once again restored.

…

A week had gone by and Adrien had yet to follow through on Nino’s advice. He wanted to. He wanted to confess to Marinette once again desperately. He had never been particularly good at holding back his feelings when he wanted something. And even though being grounded the whole week made it difficult to spend any one-on-one time with her, he still saw her every day in class and occasionally when he had managed to sneak out for patrol. And each time he saw her, he felt the air flee his lungs and his heart stutter. His whole body vibrated with nervous energy every time he saw her. He felt ready to explode like a star about to go supernova.

But he pulled back on his own proverbial reins because Chat Noir had already confessed to Ladybug. She had put him in his place not once, but twice. And God, he wanted to respect her no. He knew that she owed him nothing. He didn’t want to push past her previously established boundaries, but things felt different now.

She held his gaze constantly instead of ducking away from Adrien or glancing past Chat Noir. Her blue eyes were constantly sparkling in shared secrets and mischief. She laughed more in his presence than she had before in either of her or his personas. He could even sometimes make her blush with a single pun!

She was comfortable and at ease around him like she had always been with Chat. And she was thoughtful and sweet as she had always been with Adrien. But now, she was also open and vulnerable with him in a way she had never been with either. Before their mutual reveal, she had always held Chat at an arm’s length and been awkward around Adrien.

She just acted so differently around him now. He found himself thinking and praying that just maybe the shift signaled that she reciprocated his feelings. He wanted to believe so badly that this new closeness meant she felt the same. But he couldn’t help but worry that he was walking into a trap by getting his hopes up. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.

Because what did he really have to offer someone like her? She was passionate and fiery while he was well behaved and boring. He knew that he had the looks and the money, but Marinette didn’t care about those things. Marinette was selfless. She was a hero because she cared about the city. He took up the miraculous because he was tired of being alone in his cavernous room. And he kept it because it meant he got to spend time with her. His motives had always been selfish.

Maybe she could be open simply because there were no secrets between them anymore. She always had to hold herself back from everyone to protect her identity, and by extension, her friends. Now, she didn’t have to.

Maybe that’s all this was.

But one thing was for sure: he was hooked, more in love with her than he had ever been before. He had thought he was lost before, but now he was truly gone. He felt seen and understood as he had never felt in his life. And he liked to think that he saw all of her in a way that no one else could as well.

He was ready to burst like a hot corn kernel about to pop. He couldn’t sit on these feelings. But he was also terrified of piercing the bubble of their new dynamic, terrified that he had misinterpreted everything and he would lose all of this.

When his house arrest had finally been lifted, Adrien wasted no time in reaching out to Marinette about hanging out after school. He didn’t care what they did, so long as he could spend more time with her. Her company, her smile, her swirling deep blue eyes, and her easy laughter were like a baum to his soul. And he was never going to get enough.

She had agreed readily enough, and suggested they just hang out at the park across from her parents’ bakery. It was a beautiful day for sitting side by side on a park bench - still freezing cold, but the sky was a gorgeous blue dotted with puffy white clouds and almost no breeze so that kept the chill out of the layers of their winter clothes. The dusting of snow remained, making the whole park look like something out of a fairytale.

He had planned on keeping the whole outing platonic and friendly. Just two best friends hanging out. Really, he had.

It had taken all of five minutes alone in her presence for him to crack. “Mari?”

“Yeah?” Her soft gaze swung to his face.

“Can I ask for your advice about a girl?”

Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked away - towards a handful of laughing children throwing coins into the fountain. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice so neutral he couldn’t get any read on her.

“I-It’s a girl I work with,” he carried on recklessly. “I’m a bit crazy about her.”

“A girl you work with?” she repeated, her gaze still locked on the playing children.

“Yeah…” He followed her gaze, but his eyes remained unfocused. He was lost in memories and nostalgia of the day he had met Marinette. It was the same day he had met Ladybug. He had met her twice on the same day! That had probably been the luckiest day of his life. “I’ve never been good at standing up for myself,” he confided. “Really, I’m a bit of a pushover. And you know how controlling my father is… every scrap of freedom I can find I grab and run with it. Until I met this girl, I was always focused on what I wanted. It’s not to say I was a jerk or anything. It just never really occurred to me to think about others.

“But this girl… she flipped my world on its head.” He couldn’t hold back the huge grin that spread across his face. And he didn’t want to. “She was so nervous the day I met her, uncertain and clumsy… but when it mattered, she stood up to an absolute bastard who seems to get off on tormenting people on their worst day. And it wasn’t just that she told him off, which in my world was amazing in and of itself, but what really floored me was she didn’t do it for herself. She did it because it was right. And ever since then I have always tried to live up to her example.”

“She sounds amazing,” Marinette whispered, a note of sadness creeping into her voice. Her eyes were still glued to the disturbed snowy patch in front of them even though the children had run off a few seconds ago. She looked so lost.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Of course!” she exclaimed turning toward him with a pasted on smile. It wasn’t real. Did she think he couldn’t tell? “Please go on,” she said, gesturing for him to continue.

He hesitated. This wasn’t going the way he had hoped. She seemed resigned. Was she tired and losing patience with his repeated confessions? Was she upset that he once again hadn’t gotten her message about not being interested? Maybe she was worried that she was going to have to push him away again, hurting them both.

“If this is upsetting you,” he started softly. His fingers digging into the wooden bench with an iron grip was the only thing giving away his anxiety. “If you don’t want to hear it… I can stop.”

“No, it’s okay!” she insisted, peeling his fingers from the bench and enveloping them into her small soft hand. “I want you to be able to tell me anything! I will always be here for you, Adrien. Please don’t hold back.”

The blond collected the bits of his remaining courage. He was going to go for it this one last time. If she said no, he would work as hard as he could to get over her, so that he could become whatever she needed him to be.

“Well, I was kind’ve a jerk to her. I was so enthusiastic about how I felt that I didn’t stop to think about how she felt. I confessed to her and she said no. But I didn’t really believe that she wasn’t interested, so I kept flirting with her. I was convinced that she would eventually see the light!”

Her hand went slack in his grip.

“I didn’t respect her no and I confessed again later and I think I just made her angry. She’s under a ton of pressure, and I’m scared that I just added to it by not respecting her feelings.”

“So is this just a pattern of behavior with you? You treat all girls this way?” she asked hotly, dropping his hand onto the bench. Her blue eyes which had been so open and soft these last few days were suddenly as hard and cold as ice.

“I…” he started, completely panicked at her sudden anger. “No? Mari, I only ever had eyes for one girl.”  

Her eyes widened and stared at him. He fidgeted under her gaze, feeling like a bug trapped under a jar. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then closed again.

“Marinette?” he prompted, unable to stand the silence for a second later.  

She cleared her throat. “Only one?” she asked, her voice cracked. “Y-you confessed more than once, only to one girl?”

He smiled. Had she thought he was talking about someone else? He took her hand and squeezed it. “Only one.”

“Oh.” Overblown blue eyes pierced into his own.

“Yeah,” he agreed awkwardly, his free hand getting tangled in the blue scarf wrapped around his neck.

“What about Kagami?” she asked.

The question threw him. And then his brain screeched to a horrified hault. Oh god, he had asked her - Ladybug - the love of his life - Marinette - to help with his date with Kagami! Why had he done that?!

“An attempt to get over this other girl,” he told her quickly. “It didn’t work.”

“A girl you work with?” she asked again.

Adrien had learned long ago to be patient with Marinette when she was lost in a spiral. He held her hand and just trusted that they would get through it together. “Yes, an amazing girl I’ve worked with for a long time now. My partner.”

“Oh.”

She looked so shocked, her mouth hung open in a little “o”. Adrien grinned from ear to ear now confident they were on the same page.  

“So, here’s the thing,” he spoke softly, leaning forward into her space letting her face take up almost his entire field of view. Their noses were only centimeters apart. He could feel the warmth of her breath and count the freckles on her nose. “I see a whole new side to this girl, and I’m more in love with her than ever before.” Her eyes were so blue and almost comically wide.

“Y-You are?” she stammered. “You weren’t…” she looked down into her hands. “I don’t know... d-disappointed?”

“Disappointed in what?” he asked, having no clue what she could be talking about.

“Uh… when you found out that your… uh… l-love had a whole other side. I thought you might be disappointed and not interested in dating her anymore.”

Adrien felt his stomach twist in horror. He tried to think back to everything he had done or said since he learned of her alter ego that could have given her any doubt about his feelings. But he came up dry.

“Why would you think I was disappointed?” He finally asked.

“I… you stopped…” she shoved her hands over her mouth. “I can’t explain it!” She was bumping into things they couldn’t say. God, he wanted to scream. They were so close! But even now, they couldn’t be completely honest with one another.

He forced himself to take in another breath of icy air. He could at least reassure her that he had never been disappointed.

“Mari, I was ecstatic. To have two…” he trailed off suddenly realizing he couldn’t say what he wanted to either. He wanted to tell her that his two favorite people had become one magnificent and amazing part of his life. That he could share all of himself with someone for the first time ever. “Let’s just say, these last nine days have been the absolute best in my life.”

Her face flushed with the color of newly bloomed pink spring flowers. She glowed in the winter white park. “So… uh… w-why are you more in love with her now? More than you were before, I mean?”

He smiled softly at the return of awkward Marinette. He loved their new dynamic, but he definitely had missed this side of her. He held both her hands and looked straight into her eyes, trying not to drown in their swirling depths.

“She’s more human now. She has flaws and struggles. Her accomplishments are only more impressive because of all she has to juggle and manage and overcome. I look up to her. And she makes me feel seen and understood and that I have something of value to offer her.”

“So, what’s the problem then?” Her voice squeaked, as she peeked another look up at his face.

“I don’t want her to think that I don’t respect what she’s said to me in the past by asking her out again.” His green eyes held her own. Only his sweaty palms betrayed his nerves.

“Oh,” she said softly. And then she smiled brilliantly. “Then, m-maybe, you should let her make the first move.”

“Do you think she’ll ever see me in a romantic light?”

“Without knowing who this girl is, how would I know?” she deflected, but her blush gave her away. “I just was curious what you thought.” “I think that anyone who doesn’t see you in a romantic light is certifiably insane,” she whispered.

His whole face burned and he forgot how to breathe. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He almost kissed her, but he remembered Plagg was there. Tikki probably was too. Plus, she had just said to let the girl make the first move.

He forced himself to lean back and smile, taking joy in the fact that her fingers had found their way to his once again. He could be patient. He could prove to her that he could respect her wishes. Whatever they happened to be. Because she was worth it.

“Seriously, just give me a name and I will beat her up if she hurts you ever again,” Marinette shared. Her eyes were shining with the righteousness he always saw in his lady. How had he ever missed that they were the same person?

He started to giggle hysterically.

She glared at him. “I’m serious,” she insisted. “She would deserve it for being such a blind idiot.”

“Hey!” he objected, tightening his hold on her hand. “She’s not an idiot.”

Plagg snorted in his jacket. Adrien coughed and thumped his chest to cover the sound.

“Excuse me,” he croaked, and cleared his throat. “She’s not an idiot,” he said again. “She was only ever patient and understanding, even if I didn’t understand it at the time.”

Unlike him. He had been the one to act entitled and dismissive of what she said she felt.

“Hey,” she said gently, her thumb stroking the top of his own. “It’s okay.”

He looked up at her, and she was grinning. Her smile was so warm he could feel it heating his own cheeks and soothing his racing heart.

He didn’t think he would ever get used to this.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

…

Alya wanted to pull her hair out! Or maybe she needed to scream. Or really, she wanted to shake her best friend by the shoulders and demand the girl explain what the hell was going on.

First, Marinette had been acting whole new levels of strange around Adrien. Her painful bouts of nervousness had evaporated overnight. And then, not only was Marinette constructing full and complete sentences in front of her crush, but she was flirting with him. Like throwing compliments and puns at him. Puns! Alya would never have predicted that would work on anyone, let alone Adrien, but the boy could not handle it. Marinette had successfully rendered the blond model speechless. Her girl suddenly had game! And Alya honestly, couldn’t be more proud.

But she was baffled. Completely. Like how had Marinette gone from zero to sixty so fast? What had she dreamed about that night to cause everything to change?

When Alya had asked about it, her friend had laughed. "I just realized that he's a total dork. There's absolutely no reason to be nervous."

It had been hilarious how quickly Adrien had turned to mush once he was privileged enough to see the real Mari up close and personal. The boy couldn’t keep his eyes off her, he had no ability to focus on anything (certainly, not on helping Alya with her physics homework), and goodness he turned as red as a Ladybug’s suit whenever Marinette so much as smiled at him. Really Adrien hadn’t stood a chance! He was clearly beyond smitten. And Alya loved all of that.

But then, Alya arrived at school to find that her friends’ dynamic had flipped on its head again. She was seriously starting to suspect they had been replaced by aliens. Alya’s head was spinning like a hamster wheel trying to keep up. Adrien and Marinette had come to school after hanging out alone together exactly once, with dozens of inside jokes, incredibly comfortable invading one another’s personal space, and it appeared they were having whole conversations with just their eyes.

It was almost like they had been dating for years and just realized it two weeks ago.

But that was crazy.

And that was the worst part. She had thought that with this sudden new familiar dynamic, they had clearly hooked up. But when she asked them about it, they both insisted they were just friends.

Like hell they were!

Nino was no help at all. After her rant to him about it, he shrugged and told her to let their friends work it out.

"But Nino! They’re crazy about each other. They could be happy! Why won't they just be happy?"

He pulled her against him, clearly understanding exactly how agitated she was. She sighed and made herself relax against his form. He always grounded her. She loved that about him. "I don't know babe,” he said calmly. “They have to figure it out. We can't do it for them."

"Why not?" she whined.

He laughed.

She shoved off of him, determined to show him.

She cornered Adrien first since Marinette had been particularly stubborn about sharing anything regarding her newfound intimacy with their mutual friend.

He was writing an essay in the library during a free period. She ignored the textbooks sprawled out around him and loudly pulled up a chair right at the side of the table.

“So Adrien…?” she prompted when he didn’t immediately look up.

“Yes?” he said absently, his gaze still focused on the sentence he was putting to paper.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been staring at my girl.”

That got his attention. "Umm... who?" His green eyes were the personification of childlike innocence. She wasn’t buying it.

"Marinette!" she hissed in exasperation.

He turned as pink as Rose Lavillant’s wardrobe. "Y-yeah..." he admitted, leaning back with an arm rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She blinked at him stupidly for a minute, surprised that he had admitted it so readily. She had anticipated a long battle against a ridiculous case of denial.

"Well… Why haven't you asked her out?" Alya asked.

He looked away, his cheeks still stained with just a hint of pink. "Umm… because?"

"Because?!” she repeated. “You clearly like her! What are you waiting for? You two are like perfect for each other."

He nodded, twirling his pen between his fingers expertly. "I don't disagree."

“You better not be toying with…” she started to threaten. Then his words registered. “Wait! What?! You agree with me?”

She thought she was going to have to work way harder than that to crack him with all of the ‘just a friend’ nonsense she had had to endure over the years, especially in this last week.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Alya, I’m totally crazy about her,” his eyes were shining like emeralds and his lips were curled upwards in a little smile. “I didn’t realize it for a long time, but I honestly think I’ve had feelings for her for a long time.”

Alya was struck by his sincerity in that moment. And maybe for the first time, she truly understood what Marinette meant when she liked Adrien for his ability to be completely genuine.

“So then, why haven’t you tried to take the next step?” her voice was barely a whisper.

He turned back to his paper, as if he was going to continue his homework, but she knew he heard her question. “I'm trying to respect her wishes, okay?" he finally said, not meeting her eyes.

And once again, his words made no sense. Marinette definitely had wished on more than one occasion for Adrien Agreste to ask her out. The girl had had dreams and fantasies. She had drawn sketches of their potential future family complete with a pet hamster!

"Huh?"

"She told me to let her make the first move,” Adrien admitted.

"What?!" Alya shouted as she launched to her feet, knocking one of Adrien’s reference books to the floor.

The cavernous library fell into shocked silence.

The curly haired librarian was the one to break it. “I will remind you for the last time, Ms. Cesaire. This is a library! If you can’t keep to an appropriate volume, I will ask you to leave.”

Alya held her hands up in surrender. “Yes Madam.” The second the older woman’s disapproving glare turned back to her work, Alya dived back down into her seat and leaned right up into Adrien’s space.

“Marinette said this?” she whispered urgently.

“Yes.”

“My Marinette? The one who lives in a bakery and we go to class with?”

“Yes,” he said again, this time with a chuckle.

“That can’t be right!” she whisper yelled. She leaned back in her chair, letting her head fall back and her gaze turn to the paneled ceiling for answers.

“You have more insight on the situation than I do, I’m sure.”

But Alya didn’t. She was completely baffled. And she hated it.

“But… I don’t understand,” she whispered to the ceiling.

He laughed. “That makes two of us. She and I had a really good conversation like… a week ago? I… told her how I felt. She seemed happy! Like over the moon thrilled. I thought things would progress quickly after that.” He shrugged dejectedly. “But…”

“But they didn’t,” she filled in for him.

“Yeah… maybe I lost my chance with her a long time ago.” His voice sounded so sad, but everything else about his body language was carefully neutral. Even his eyes remained calm.

His ability to control his emotions bothered her. It had to be his model training or something.

Because her own heart was breaking. How could Marinette do this to him? It would be one thing if she didn’t feel the same way, but the girl had been pining for him for freaking ever!

“Adrien,” she said softly and waited until he was looking up at her once again. “I probably shouldn’t say this.”

The shift in his face was subtle. But she had been looking for it. His eyes were shining with such hope. She sighed. Best friend’s code didn’t allow her to give him much.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I promise I will get to the bottom of this!”

He smiled. “Alya, I appreciate you saying that, but you really don’t have to do that. Marinette’s under a lot of pressure and has a lot going on. Please don’t add to her stress or anxiety by pushing.”

Alya grinned ear to ear. It was nice to reconfirm that Adrien was worthy of her girl! (Not that she had ever doubted that). But he didn’t understand. As Marinette’s (future) boyfriend, it was his job to be unconditionally supportive. As Marinette’s best friend, Alya’s role was different. If she didn’t push Marinette, if Alya didn’t call her on her bullshit, who would? Alya, of course, expected Marinette to return the favor whenever necessary.

“Awww!” Alya cooed. “You’re so cute when you’re all protective.”

She expected him to blush at her teasing. He did not. He hissed in displeasure at her words. Literally hissed - like an angry cat. She leaned back from his glare.

“I’m serious! I made some mistakes in the past with someone by pushing my feelings onto someone who wasn’t receptive.”

“I’m not going to force her into anything, Adrien!” Alya snapped back. “I am going to just talk to her.”

His eyes softened, and his shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just… I really want to respect her. It’s not just about what I’m feeling. It’s about what she’s feeling too. I’m not entitled to be with her just because I want us to be together.”

He looked up at her then. “And even if she is interested,” he continued. “I’m willing to wait until she’s ready. She’s worth waiting for.”

Alya gripped her curls in her fist. “Oh my god! You are way too sweet! I may need you to give Nino lessons!”

The blond frowned. “What? Nino worships the ground you walk on.”

“Yeah…” she agreed with a dopey smile of her own. Her chin resting on her hand. “He’s pretty great.”

She surged to her feet abruptly. “This was a good chat, Adrien,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “We should do this more often. Maybe we’ll even be able to make it a double date!”

He grinned. “I would like that.”

She left him, more determined than ever to figure out what was going on. Because things couldn’t stand like this. She needed her friends to be happy. And they were clearly so close!

But for the rest of the day it seemed almost impossible to get Marinette alone. Adrien was always there. And Alya would have suspected that he was trying to protect her from Alya’s interventions except they were always together these days. It didn’t even work the next day when Adrien was unexpectedly called away because Marinette disappeared two minutes later!

And admittedly, Alya got distracted trying to chase down an akuma. She missed the action completely by the time she arrived on the scene, but she did obtain some lovely footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir being a little more friendly than the professional working relationship they usually portrayed in public. She was so excited that Ladybug seemed to be softening for the cat.

But Alya was getting sidetracked! She needed to track down her best friend, so Marinette could find happiness with her prince charming too!

The aspiring journalist lucked out when Adrien missed the whole next day for a photoshoot. She found Marinette during lunch sketching in the art classroom.

"Marinette, we need to talk."

Unlike Adrien, Marinette immediately put her pencil down and gave Alya her full and undivided attention. "What's up, Alya?"

"Did you tell Adrien to not ask you out?"

Marinette blushed and looked down into her hands. "Well... not me specifically. We were talking in hypotheticals."

Alya rolled her eyes. "Hypothetically, did you tell Adrien to not ask you out?"

"Yes? I mean, I told him to let the girl make the first move."

"Okay,” Alya drawled, pulling at her hair, praying for patience. If Marinette was throwing wrenches into her own love life, there had to be a reason, right? “So why haven't you asked him out, then?! You can't possibly be afraid that he would say no at this point!"

"Yeah, he definitely wouldn't say no..." Marinette agreed softly, her face blushing.

"So, what is going on?"

She looked out the window away from Alya. "Can we not talk about this?"

"I just don't understand. You've liked him since forever! Isn't being together what you wanted?! Three children and a hamster and all that?!"

“I really don’t want to talk about this,” Marinette said softly. “Can you please drop it?” she begged.

Alya was totally taken aback. Usually Adrien was the one topic Marinette was always willing to talk about. “I’m sorry,” Alya said. “I will drop it if you want me to. I just hope you know that I just want you to be happy. And I think you could get everything you say you wanted, if you go for it. I promise not to bring it up again.”

They fell into silence. Marinette went back to her drawing. Alya started sliding through her instagram feed, but it couldn’t really hold her attention.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Marinette whispered.

“You’re fine, girl. I’m the one who is sorry. I didn’t mean to push. Adrien told me not to.”

“You talked to Adrien about this? What did he say?” Marinette asked calmly. Alya was surprised that Marinette wasn’t freaking out with eyes bugged out, demanding to know what he thought of her. That’s what would have happened a few weeks ago.

“Just that he confessed to you a week ago, and that you seemed happy about it,” Alya bit out, letting a little of her frustration show.

Marinette’s blush resurfaced. “Yeah…”

“How did you manage to keep that to yourself?! I never thought you were that good at keeping secrets.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Marinette said without any heat even as she stayed completely focused on the sketch.

“I never said that you did,” Alya agreed sadly.

The two girls fell into silence again. Alya didn’t even pretend to get lost in her phone again and instead, she watched as Marinette’s charcoal pencil made her sketch come to life. The picture featured Chat Noir sitting on the edge of a rooftop gazing into the city’s night skyline with a small smile on his lips. Alya felt captivated as with every pass Mari made, the hero seemed more and more alive even exiled onto the two dimensional plane of paper as he was.

“That’s amazing, Marinette!” Alya gushed.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously! This is one of the best things I’ve ever seen you do! You’re not even looking at a reference shot. How do you know the details of his suit that well?”

She shrugged. “I just have an eye for clothing, I guess.”

Alya laughed. “Right! Of course. Could I commission you to do one for me?”

“Of Chat Noir?”

“Uh… no,” Alya blushed. “Maybe one of Carapace?”

Marinette smiled. “I would love to do that. Do you think I should include Rena Rouge?”

“W-why would you include Rena Rouge?” Alya stammered.

Marinette shrugged again. “I just thought they might have a thing for one another. Or maybe I just like to pretend they do in my fanart.”

“I guess you could go ahead and include Rena Rouge then. You clearly have a good eye.”

“Mhmm,” Marinette agreed absently. And Alya watched in amazement as Marinette did something with her eraser that made Chat Noir’s eyes just pop off the page.

“Alya?” Marinette spoke into the silence.

“Yeah?”

“About Adrien and I? Things just... changed a lot between us and I'm getting used to the new Adrinette friendship. I really like where we are right now and I don't feel like we need to rush anything."

“Okay,” Alya said, not really buying it.

“You don’t believe me,” Marinette observed looking up at her friend.

“Not really, no. Maybe you want it to be true, but I think it’s just an excuse.”

Marinette turned away, put her pencil down, and buried her head into her arms.

“What’s really going on, Mari?” Alya asked gently. “Please talk to me.”

Marinette’s shoulders quaked with soft silent sobs. Horrified, Alya threw her arms around her shaking friend.

"I'm scared," Marinette finally admitted through a sniff.

"Scared of what?” Alya traced soothing circles into the petite girl’s back. “Of things not working out?"

Marinette shook her head into the table. "No, not that. What if something happens to one of us? What if an akuma targets Adrien and he dies or gets really hurt?"

"That's what Ladybug is for.”

Marinette bolted upright and pulled away violently. "What if Ladybug can't fix it?!" Marinette demanded, her eyes wild with intensity.

Alya was tempted to write-off her panic as just normal Marinette spiraling catastrophizing. But her friend was completely distraught. Marinette didn’t usually cry during her spirals. She talked too fast, she shook, and she thought of unlikely horrible scenarios one after another. But now, she was coherent, soft spoken, and keenly focused on this one idea. She wasn’t spiraling. She was genuinely afraid.

"Marinette," Alya soothed. "You're right. Something could happen. There are never any guarantees. That's kinda why I think you should go for it. Imagine something did happen to Adrien. How would you feel about never telling him how you feel then?"

Marinette’s eyes widened, and just stared in shock. Alya enveloped Marinette in an embrace again, and was relieved when she relaxed and leaned into her hold.

“When did you get to be so wise?” Marinette finally asked, her voice still hoarse from crying.

“Excuse you! I’ve always been wise. You just don’t listen to me!”

Marinette giggled through her tears. “I always listen to you. You’re the bestest best friend.”

...

[shyficwriter]

Making Mischief

Guardians of the Galaxy Fanfic | Reader, Loki, Yondu, Kraglin

Part 13 in a series: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Summary: To take your minds off of your recent tragedies, Loki suggests some mischief. Yondu and Kraglin are not amused.

Authors Note: This chapter was originally shorter, but after I wrote the next chapter I realized I would prefer to combine them together. For the moment the second half is also posted separately for those who’ve already read the first part, but as of right now this version you’ll be reading now is the combined version with both chapters combined as one.

Word Count: 3,459

You were still trying to process the news about your new heart, even though it had been about three and a half weeks since Yondu broke the news to you. 

It wasn’t until later that same day that you were deemed well enough to have the tube removed, which was a rather... unpleasant experience. Once it was out and you were free to talk you asked Yondu more about your stay. 

According to him you apparently had been out for a day and a half since the operation, and during that time the doctors took the liberty to examine your ankle, seeing as it was definitely not treated professionally. Luckily for you, Peter had done a decent job setting it and therefore it wouldn’t be required for the doctor’s to re-set it, a task that would require re-breaking your ankle to set the bones properly. Since it appeared to be healing fine they merely re-wrapped it and estimated it would need to remain wrapped for just another few weeks. 

You soon found out these weeks would also be spent with you remaining in the Med Center in physical therapy as you got used to your new cybernetic heart.

Now you were back on the Eclector, with a fully healed ankle and instructions to continue your physical therapy exercises and to be easy on your ankle for a least a couple more weeks. This was a task Yondu prodded you about daily, which was starting to annoy you. You were still taking everything in regarding your heart on top of losing nearly everyone you loved. In your opinion, the physical therapy was the least of your concerns.

You lay on your bed staring at the ceiling when you heard a knock. You look over to see Loki standing in your doorway.

“What?” you sigh. Couldn’t you have just a few moments to yourself?

“Just thought I’d stop by to see how you were. It’s been awhile, quite frankly I’m surprised to see you again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well here I am. I’m sure the other two already told you what happened.”

“No, actually. Your captain isn’t very forthcoming, I’ve found.”

“Well, that’s Yondu for you.” you say, turning over and hoping he’d get the hint.

If he did he ignored it. “You seem to be unhappy. Do you care to talk about it?”

Talk about it? Where would you even begin? “I don’t know. It’s just a lot.”

“I’m willing to listen.” Loki replied.

You turned to face him still at the doorway. “Do you actually want to hear it or are you just bored?” you sassed, figuring it was more likely the latter. He had been cooped up in the ship with no one but Kraglin and Yondu for the last few weeks.

“Yes,” was all Loki responded with.

You bit back a grin and roll your eyes. He was such a shit, but you couldn’t help but find a bit of humor in his non-answer of an answer. Well, if he really wanted to know, you’d let him have it. You sigh and let yourself unload on him. 

You tell him everything that’s been bothering you the past few months. 

You told him about your CIPA condition and how you had hidden it from the team for years, but they found out anyway when you got sick and how after Yondu learned about your CIPA he volunteered to undergo the procedure that allowed him to feel your pain for you in an attempt to keep you safe. 

You tell him how you lost a man that was like a brother to you as well as most of the rest of your family. You tell him how you hated yourself for breaking your ankle before they left because if you hadn’t maybe you could have gone with them. Maybe there was something you could have done to help them avoid their fate. 

Before you knew it you were telling him you hated the fact that they were dead while you lived. How now you live with a cybernetic heart because your own heart had failed you and that fact that you still didn’t know how to deal with this fact.

You told him all this and he listened patiently. You were surprised that you were allowing yourself to be this open with him, you would blame this on stress later.  

It wasn’t until you noticed his expression shift that you noticed you had begun crying. You quickly wipe your eyes and sit up on the bed, turning your face away and hoping he hadn’t noticed but knowing he must have. You tried to deflect. “Well, that’s enough about me. Why don’t you tell me something about you for a change? Unless I scared you off.” you weakly attempted a laugh.

“Perhaps another time.” Loki said, a hint of sadness in his voice. Your story of losing your team only brought back the memories of losing his own family, and for once in his life he didn’t feel like talking about his tragic past. “Perhaps we should find something to take our mind off of our recent tragedies.” he said instead.

"What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I am the God of Mischief.” he said with a smirk as he motioned to himself. “Take a wild guess.”

You rolled your eyes and allowed yourself to grin. “You ever rig up a shower head with dye?” 

Loki’s grin widened. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Excellent.” You beamed, getting up and rummaging through your drawer for the bottle of red dye left over from the time Rocket showed you how to set up a dye bomb in Yondu’s dresser. You smiled bittersweetly at the memory and turned toward the dark haired man. “We should hurry if we don’t want to get caught.”

“The danger is just part of the fun my dear.” he laughed.

The two of you snuck down towards Yondu and Kraglin’s quarters. You had just enough dye to split between the two shower heads and if you and Loki worked quickly there would just enough time to rig them up before Yondu and Kraglin finished tuning up the M-ship.

You hand Loki a dye pack and instruct him how to unscrew the shower head and dump in the dye before screwing it back in. Then you both quickly split off and take a room. You took Yondu’s and Loki took Kraglin’s.

You had done this before, but you still tried to move quickly just in case Loki might need help, though you suspected the God of Mischief could handle himself. However, in your haste you slipped on the tile floor and landed hard on your back. ‘Shit!’ you thought. Yondu totally would have felt that one. You scramble to your feet and run out of his quarters to hurry Loki up before Yondu came to check on you.

As you came out of his quarters you found Loki exiting Kraglin’s door. “I heard a noise,” he said.

“Don’t worry, it was just me being clumsy. Did you get it done?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s hurry and get out of here! Yondu is bound to come check on me.” you urged.

Loki raised an eyebrow, but followed your lead. “Did you get hurt?” 

“No, but I landed hard and he’s like a worried mother hen. He checks on everything now if the chip tells him I’m in any sort of pain.”

“Well do you need to check?” Loki asked. You were both now turning the corner out of the hallway leading to their rooms, but your adrenaline at the risk of being caught wouldn’t allow you to slow down. You wanted to put as much distance between you and their rooms as possible.

“No, I don’t need to check. I’m fine!” you urged. “It was just a-”

“There ya are, missy!” 

You heard Yondu call from the opposite end of the hall you had just turned into moments before. You internally groaned and turned to face where his voice had come from.

“What happened now? Come here,” he ordered, closing the distance in the hallway. He didn’t seem thrilled, no doubt assuming Loki must have done something. Kraglin wasn’t too far behind him, meaning they must have finished tuning up the ship faster than you expected and were already headed this way, which would explain why they got here so fast.

“I’m fine!” you said, rolling your eyes. your heart was beating a mile a minute. You now realized you had been just minutes away from getting caught regardless if you had fell and alerted Yondu. It wasn’t lost on you the fact that if your fall hadn’t caused you to rush out as quickly as you had, you and Loki might still be back there with no way to avoid getting caught.

“Ya know ya can’t lie to me, girl.” Yondu scolded. He reached out for you, no doubt intending to check your back for bruising, but you pulled back with an exasperated huff.

“Look, I just slipped and fell. Happy? You can’t worry about every little thing. I’m going to live.”

Wrong choice of words. Yondu glared at you. “I’ll worry all I want, little girl!” he snapped back. He looked at Loki. “An’ what are you doin’ here?”

Loki clearly hadn’t expected to be made part of the conversation, but he quickly recovered. “I saw her slip and fall, so I offered her a hand up.”

Yondu looked quickly back at you. “So ya fell and couldn’t get up?” His face was cross, assuming you were hiding a worse injury.

Loki interjected before Yondu could go full mother-hen mode. “Oh, no, sir! I can assure you she was fine. I only offered her my hand as it was the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Yondu eyed him suspiciously. “She don’t need any of yer ‘gentlemanliness,’ boy.”

Kraglin gave Loki a look as well. “Yeah. So don’t you think about getting any ideas now.”

“Oh, no no no! I can assure you it was nothing like that!” Loki quickly said, holding his hands up. He chuckled nervously, not expecting the men to jump to that conclusion so quickly over a mere story of lending you a hand.

You blushed, realizing what was going on. “Yondu! Krags- Geeze! Can’t a guy just be nice without you two assuming he has ulterior motives?” 

“Nope,” they said in unison, both giving Loki the stink eye.

“Perhaps... I should be going?” Loki said, nervously chuckling as he took a couple steps back.

“Yeah. Perhaps ya should.” Yondu drawled, crossing his arms. After Loki had taken a couple steps down the hall Yondu called out to him. “Ya know, boy, I think the floor in the kitchen could use a shinin,’ maybe ya should get on that.”

Loki begrudgingly turned and called back a “Yes, sir.” and left, but not before you silently mouthed the words “I’m sorry!” at him.

You punched Yondu in the shoulder. “You’re so embarrassing! There’s literally nothing going on between us!”

“I believe ya girl, but that don’t mean he won’t try somethin.’” the blue man warned, eyeing him as he walked away.

“Ugh!” You roll your eyes and storm away from the men in the direction from where they came, feeling it wouldn’t be good if Yondu assumed you were following Loki. In truth, yes, Yondu was being embarrassing, but you were really just glad you and Loki hadn’t been caught in the middle of a prank. If that happened you now worried Yondu might have thrown him out an airlock if he saw you teaming up after how he reacted to Loki being “gentlemanly” towards you. He really was turning into a mother hen.

You definitely weren’t going to regret what would happen when they finally took showers tonight. 

***

***

You were startled awake by the sounds of shouting coming from somewhere in the ship. It took only moments for you to wake up enough to realize that Kraglin and Yondu must have discovered the prank that awaited them in their showers.

Unsure of the time you check your watch and realize it was morning, meaning that they either opted to wait until the woke to shower, or that neither of them had bothered to look in the mirror before heading to sleep last night. You quickly get up and get dressed to assess the damage, trying to hide the grin on your face as you exited your room.

Your glee was short lived, however, as when you finally tracked the shouts to their source you realized that the guys were yelling at Loki, and they looked very mad.

“Ya think this is funny, boy?!” growled Yondu, shoving Loki against the wall. Yondu was mostly dressed, and looked to be dry. Kraglin, however, was still mostly wet and was still in his towel. Looks like both your assumptions were right.

Loki held his hands up in surrender and claimed innocence, but you could see he was trying desperately not to crack a grin at the sight.

Kraglin was stained with reddish splotches covering most of his face and torso, but Yondu was now a solid new color. The red had blended with the blue tint of his skin and resulted in a deeper purple, very similar to the shade he had turned that time when a dye bomb blew up in his face, but much more even. It was apparent that Kraglin had noticed the color change much faster than Yondu, and must have jumped out of his shower halfway through, whereas Yondu obviously didn’t notice anything until he glanced at a mirror this morning. ‘The man must have been very tired last night or he showers in the dark,’ you thought.

You suddenly realized that Yondu was a shade of purple that very closely related to Barney the Dinosaur and a snicker escaped before you could stop it.

The three look toward you.

“Yeah, get a good laugh.” Kraglin scolded. “We’re throwing your friend out the air lock.”

“What?!” You and Loki cried in unison, Loki now starting to look concerned. He clearly hadn’t anticipated this.

“Why?” Your eyes were wide as you quickly made your way over to the men. Surely they wouldn’t?

“Why d’ya think?” scolded Yondu, motioning to himself and Kraglin. “I bet he didn’t like me warnin’ him to stay away from ya and decided to turn the water in our showers red!” He sneered, grabbing Loki’s collar “I knew it was a mistake allowin’ a guy who calls himself a ‘god’ on the ship.”

“You can’t!” you blurt out. “It was me! I did it!”

The three men look at you again. Kraglin & Yondu in bewilderment, as you never admit to your pranks, and Loki in both relief that this might save him an unpleasant trip and awe that you seemed willing to take all the blame.

“What now, girl?” Yondu said coldly, still not yet releasing Loki.

“I did it! It was just a prank! You can’t throw him out the airlock!” Your voice was almost pleading. “It- It would be bad form to do that to a man who didn’t deserve it!” you tried. You were sure you remembered a pirate from a movie citing something about bad form, and Yondu was just a former space pirate, right? Surely this would resonate with him?

It worked.

Begrudgingly, Yondu shoved Loki away with a scowl. “Ya get out of it this time, boy. Get out of my sight.”

Loki shot you a quick grateful glance and wasted no time making his way away from the angry captain.

Yondu then turned to you. “I can’t exactly say I’m surprised, but yer still gonna scrub the M-Ship for this, missy,” he scolded. “D’ya have anythin’ to say fer yerself?

You grinned nervously. “Uh... it was funny?”

Kraglin glared at you. He had clearly gotten the worse end of the prank since he had jumped out of the dyed water partway through. “Yeah, I disagree, brat. Try again.”

“Um... yeah, I got nothin.” You confessed. “I mean, I got Yondu because he was being a mother hen, but you were really just collateral damage.” you giggled nervously. Kraglin was definitely going to kill you. He stormed off, stating that he was going to try and wash off as much of that dye as he could once his water ran clear again.

“A mother what?” Yondu asked, sure that he should be insulted, if only he knew what that meant.

“A mother hen? You know, being really over protective?”

“I’m not over-protective, girl!” he scolded.

“You so are! I mean, you yelled at Loki yesterday just because he said he leant me a hand when I fell, and you constantly obsess if I’m hurt and check up on me every 10 minutes!”

“I have my reasons.”

“Yes, I know you care about me, but this is exactly the reason I hid this from everyone for so long in the first place! I don’t need to be babied!”

Yondu softened a little. He more than understood by now your desire for independence after everything you had been through. “Come here, little girl,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I know. I know ya can take care of yerself, but I just wanna make sure yer ok. Ya scared me. I thought I’d lose ya too.”

You sighed, accepting the hug. “I know. But I’m doing a lot better now, you need to see that. I’m not just going to drop dead any second, you kind of made sure of that for me,” you tried to joke about it, but the subject of your new heart was still tender for you, and the humor fell a little flat.

Yondu didn’t say anything for a moment, just rubbed his hand your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He knew he had made a decision for you that wasn’t truly his to make, but he didn’t regret it for a second. He also knew you weren’t ungrateful, but it would still take you time to come to fully come to terms with it. Eventually he tried to lighten the mood.

“D’ya think Kraglin knows that stuff ain’t gonna wash off?”

You giggle and break the hug to look up at him. “No. He’s gonna be stained all blotchy for weeks because he let it dry on him like that. You got lucky, at least you’re an even shade of purple.”

“I suppose being too tired to notice had its advantages.” Yondu laughed, tweaking your ribs in retaliation and eliciting a squeak from you. “Ya better hurry up and get that M-Ship washed before I think of another way to punish ya,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes playfully but did as you were told. In a way you thought you were getting off pretty easy, at least it wasn’t toilet duty.

“An’ don’t think about doing this again!” Yondu called out after you. “Or I’ll put you on grease trap duty for a month!”

You grinned and shot back a thumbs up as you walked away. It’s not like you had a choice anyway, that was the last of your dye.

*** After you finished cleaning the M-Ship you looked for Loki and found him relaxing atop his bunk in his quarters. You looked around for Yondu before entering, not wishing him to assume anything else. You lightly knocked on his doorway to get his attention.

“Hey, so uh, sorry about earlier. The whole... you almost getting ejected from the ship thing, I mean.”

Loki grinned and sat up. “I’ve had worse. Though I must thank you for taking the blame to save me from a rather unpleasant fate. They don’t quite seem to like me, do they?”

“Let’s just call us even, since you covered for me yesterday and Yondu made you scrub the kitchen,” you laughed, “and you’re just new to them still. I’m sure they’ll learn to trust you over time.”

“Well, perhaps not if we continue making mischief at their expense,” he chuckled. He pretended to think a moment. “Perhaps we should... stop?”

“That’s unfortunate,” you grin, certain he didn’t mean a word of what he was saying. “how else will we entertain ourselves? And moreover, I’m surprised the ‘God of Mischief’ would suggest avoiding mischief.”

Loki looked at you, slightly surprised and intrigued. “Madam, are you suggesting that you’d like to make more mischief? Aren’t you concerned of the consequences?” You could see a grin playing at his lips.

You grinned wider, “Maybe I am. Besides, didn’t you say ‘the danger is just part of the fun?’”

A mischievous smile cracked Loki’s face, “Well then, where shall we start?”

[probably-not-star-lord]

Guardians of the Galaxy: Part 7 (Peter Quill x Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Here is part seven for y’all and it’s the prison break which is literally one of the most iconic scenes in the movie. As always, I hope you like this shit

Warnings: swearing, mild violence, fluff

-

In the common area of the prison, you, Gamora, Peter, and Rocket gather around a table. Groot stands idly by in the distance, not paying any attention to your crucial discussion. You're all composing a plan to break out. Rocket, who has escaped twenty-two prisons, is the one who devises a plan while the rest of you take orders.

"If we're gonna get out of here, we're gonna need to get into that watchtower," Rocket tells you. The watchtower stands in the middle of the prison, certainly the most guarded area. "And to do that, I'm gonna need a few things," he continues. "The guards wear security bands to control their ins and outs. I need one."

"Leave it to Y/N and me," Gamora says.

You and Rocket nod in response. He then gestures toward a prisoner who is wobbly walking along with a prosthetic leg. "That dude, there, I need his prosthetic leg."

"His leg?" Peter inquiries, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Rocket replies. "God knows I don't need the rest of him. Look at him, he's useless."

"All right."

"And finally, on the wall back there is a black panel, blinky yellow light. Do you see it?"

"Yeah," Everyone agrees.

"There's a quarnyx battery behind it. Purplish box, green wires. To get into that watchtower, I definitely need it."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Gamora requests.

"Well, supposedly these bald-bodies find you ladies attractive," he says, glancing between you and Gamora. "So maybe you can work out some sort of trade."

Gamora angrily rolls her eyes. "You cannot be serious."

"You've got to be kidding me," you scoff. Peter tenses up a bit and his hands form fists on top of the table. He lets out a quiet grumble of annoyance.

"No, I really hear they find you guys attractive," Rocket laughs.

"Y/N won't be taking part in anything like that, regardless of how attractive she is," Peter justifies. He wouldn't want to see anything happen to you, especially not in this prison. Gamora nudges you under the table and you get the hint that Peter is clearly worked up over the idea of someone else being all over you even if it is just for an escape plan. You don't know how to take it. "Besides, it's twenty feet up in the air, and it's in the middle of the most heavily guarded part of the prison. It's impossible to get up there without being seen," Peter interjects.

Now, Rocket is the one who gets frustrated. "I got one plan, and that plan requires a fricken' quarnyx battery, so figure it out!" he snaps. The rest of you remain silent for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. "Can I get back to it? Thanks. Now, this is important. Once the battery is removed, everything is gonna slam into emergency mode. Once we have it, we gotta move quickly, so you definitely need to get that last." Suddenly, the room grows dark as many sirens blare. Behind you, Groot smiles, holding the quarnyx battery. "Or we could just get it first and improvise!" he exclaims.

"We'll get the armband," you declare.

"Leg!" Peter adds.

As Peter scrambles away to the cell of the man with the prosthetic leg, you and Gamora make your way over to a guard. "We're gonna need that," you state smugly, pointing at his armband.

He cackles. "Good luck, it's internally wired."

"I think we can figure something out," Gamora presses. As she and the guard go at it, fighting over the armband with Gamora clearly winning, you knock out any guards making their over to intrude on the fight.

Brushing your hands off from kicking some people down, you check back on Rocket and Groot. A series of tiny ships approach Groot and a guard calls out to him. "Prisoner, drop the device immediately and retreat to your cell, or we will open fire."

"I am Groot."

"Fire!" Screams the guard.

As the several ships fire upon Groot, him deflecting them, Rocket climbs his body. "You idiot! How am I supposed to fight these things without my stuff?"

"The animal is in control. Fire on my command!" A few guards with their own guns shout from below them. You cringe slightly, knowing you're all in trouble now. To your surprise, however, Drax takes down the guards, attacking every single one of them. Is he helping you?

"Creepy little beast!" he calls for Rocket, tossing him a gun.

Rocket beams with delight. "Oh, yeah." He fires at all of the ships and machines surrounding him. He doesn't even appear to be aiming, just firing profusely and hoping for the best. He and Groot scream in the process, Groot rotating below Rocket for assistance. You hate to admit it, but these dudes are pretty badass.

"I got it," Gamora shouts to you, pulling you along towards the watchtower, the two of you taking down a few guards on your way. You look back with a smile to see all of the guards lying on the ground."Rocket!" she yells, throwing him the armband.

"Move to the watchtower!" He tells all of you. In the mess of everyone running around, you search for Peter. Where is he? Is he okay? Thankfully, you catch him running, prosthetic leg in hand, on his way to the watchtower. You take a deep breath and exhale in relief. A guard stops him, telling him to put the leg down and go back to his cell. Peter puts a hand up at first but quickly knocks the guard out with the leg. He steals the man's gun and fires at a few ships in the process. He picks the leg back up and continues running. You watch him in awe. You may or may not have found that to be hot.

You don't get to stay calm for too long though, because as he scales the wall of the watchtower, a ship faces him. As it prepares to shoot, he closes his eyes, waiting for impact. "No..." you whisper, bringing a hand to cover your mouth.

In seconds, the machine is destroyed and Peter opens his eyes. Below him is Drax, who just ripped the machine in half with his bare hands. "You! Man who has lain with an A'askavariian!" Drax reports up to Peter.

"It was one time, man," he responds.

Eventually, you all arrive in the watchtower. Peter's face lights up once you walk through the door. He's glad you're okay. You return his stare with a smirk. You're glad he's okay too. Rocket sits in front of the panels, putting things together and pressing buttons. Gamora and Peter stand beside you while Groot watches over Rocket. Drax is the last one to report to the watchtower. What is he doing here? Gamora gives him a dirty look, clearly pissed off that he's with you all.

"Spare me your foul gaze, woman."

"Why is this one here?" she asks in annoyance.

"We promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss. I always keep my promises..." Peter affirms. "...when they're to muscle-bound whack-jobs who will kill me if I don't." He places the leg on the dashboard in front of Rocket. "Here ya go."

Rocket snickers. "Oh, I was just kidding about the leg. I just need these two things."

"What?" Peter grunts. You try and cover up your giggles but fail miserably.

"No, I thought it'd be funny. Was it funny? Wait, what did he look like hopping around?" he can barely contain his laughter, and neither can you.

"That does sound kinda funny," you remark, earning daggers from Peter.

Rocket turns to face you with a wide grin. "You know what? You're starting to grow on me, Y/N."

"I had to transfer him 30,000 units!" Peter interjects.

You and Rocket are cracking up now, but he quickly focuses back on whatever he is doing with the panels. As your laughter subsides, you give Peter a reassuring look. His expression softens, and you can tell he thinks it's pretty funny too.

"How are we going to leave?" Drax asks.

"Well, he's got a plan. Or is that another thing you made up?" Peter retorts, still a little pissed at Rocket for lying to him.

"I have a plan! I have a plan!" Rocket reassures.

"Cease your yammering and relieve us from this irksome confinement," Drax discloses, scoping out the room. You furrow your eyebrows in bewilderment at his wide range vocabulary.

"Yeah, I'll have to agree with the walking thesaurus on that one," Peter lips, earning a snicker from you.

"Do not ever call me a thesaurus."

You scoff. "Fine, you're a dictionary."

"Do not call me a dictionary either."

"It's just a metaphor dude," Peter says, still chuckling.

"His people are completely literal. Metaphors are gonna go over his head," Rocket explains.

"Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast. I would catch it." You roll your eyes at him, he is kind of a dumbass. It's an endearing stupidity, though, one that you find to be quite funny. Just maybe when you're not about to be killed by prison guards.

"I'm gonna die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy," Gamora expresses. Honestly, you know she is probably right.

Several guards flood the room below the watchtower. They all carry enormous weapons and point them up at where you're all standing. "Those are some big guns," Peter says under his breath.

The guard leading the pack gets prepared to shoot. "On my command! Number one!"

"Rodent, we are ready for your plan," Gamora vocalizes as a bullet strikes the glass.

"Hold on!" he squelches back at her.

"Number two!" the guard calls out. The bullet breaks the glass, causing your anxiety levels to rise as you jump back.

"I recognize this animal," Drax pointlessly states. "We'd roast them over a flame pit as children. Their flesh was quite delicious."

"Not helping!" Rocket fires at him, pissed off.

"Number three! All fire on my command! One! Two! Th-" he is cut off by a change in the air. Everyone on the floor floats, unable to attack you.

Gamora steps up next to Rocket and leans over the panels, peering out the front window. "He turned off the artificial gravity everywhere but in here."

Rocket swivels in his chair, crossing his arms with conviction. "I told you I had a plan."

"It was a pretty good plan," Peter asserts. You nod in agreement, jaw dropped as you watch all the guards and prisoners wander in the air outside the window.

The six of you gather your things from the watchtower and sprint to the area of the prison that has your belongings from the previous day. Peter spots his ship. "Yeah!" he exclaims. "There it is. Get my ship. It's the orange and blue one over in the corner." He points to it and then heads over to the chests to retrieve his stuff. You have your folded clothes in hand and collect your bag that contains your mixtapes. Yet, you continue to search through the box. Where the hell is your walkman?

Rocket gets his clothes and groans. "They crumpled my pants up into a ball. That's rude! They folded yours," he whines. You ignore him and continue to desperately check every corner of the chest. Your walkman is nowhere to be found.

Peter is shuffling through his bin as well. Gamora finds the orb with her eyes and nods in confirmation. "The orb is there, let's go."

"Wait, wait, wait," he stammers.

"What?" she rumbles.

"That bastard didn't put it back."

You lock eyes with him. "Peter, they have mine too."

He shoves his stuff into your hands. "Here, get them to the ship. I'll be right back."

"How are you gonna possibly-"

He cuts you off. "Just keep the Milano close by. Go." You balance all of the belongings in your hands and stare at him with hesitation. "Go!" he demands. Reluctantly, you fall in line with Gamora on the way to the Milano.

You, Gamora, Drax, Groot, and Rocket wait in the ship for Peter's return. Rocket breaks the lengthy silence. "Well, how's he gonna get to us?"

"He didn't give me that information," you murmur. You tap your foot nervously. He needs to hurry back.

"Well, screw this, then! I ain't waiting around for some homie with a death wish. You got the orb, right?" he beseeches Gamora.

"Yes," she says, pulling Peter's bag from your grasp and investigating through it. But, the orb isn't in there. Gamora squawks some profanities under her breath and you can't help but smile. Now you have to wait for Peter. You don't want to go on without him anyway.

Rocket notices the orb isn't there and sighs. "If we don't leave now, we will be blown to bits."

"No! We're not leaving without the orb." Gamora screams.

"Or Peter," you remark quietly to yourself. Turning to stare out the window, you see him. He has his mask on, his glowing red eyes looking directly at you through the glass. His headphones balance on his head as he blares "Escape" also known as "The Piña Colada Song" in his ears, the song you were listening to when you first met. In his hand rests your own walkman.

He enters the ship, removing his mask. Drax approaches him, slapping him on the back with glee. "Behold, this one shows spirit. He shall make a keen ally in the battle against Ronan," he hoots. "Companion, what were you retrieving?" Peter shoves the walkman in his hands. "You're an imbecile," Drax snarls.

Peter struts over to you, his cocky smirk placed firmly on his lips. He passes your walkman to you. "Here you go, sweetheart. I guess I saved your life twice now."

"Thank you, Peter, really. This means a lot to me."

"Eh, don't mention it," he shrugs. "Did you like my song choice?"

You giggle. "I loved it."

Part Eight: Here

[eiznel]

It’s Fine

Summary: It’s not. 

Note: An EXTREMELY late entry for the milkman/housewife writer’s challenge. It was supposed to be smut, but it became decidedly NOT smut. Might be a secondary chapter later that includes smut.

Rating: M for mention of abuse, thoughts on suicide, and just heavy shit in general. light fluff, brief mention of sex

Pairing: Papyrus x Sans , Stretch x Sans

Ao3: Here

Sans sighed softly as he watched the milkman walk down the path leading away his door, a spring in his step. When he reached his truck, he turned and waved at Sans, grinning so widely his eyesockets squeezed shut. Sans lifted a hand and nudged it to the side in a poor approximate of a wave in return. No matter how much he relished the other skeleton’s bi-weekly visits, he loathed spending more energy than was necessary. He sighed softly again, clutching the jar of milk in his hands a little tighter. It was warm outside, even so early in the day, and the coolness of the glass felt amazing against his bones. The perspiration on its surface gathered, beading and being pulled down by gravity to gather on the sides of his fingers. It wasn’t until the truck was out of sight that Sans turned and walked back into the empty shell that was his home.

It wasn’t to say that the house was unfurnished, no – in fact, it was furnished quite well, if not a little sloppily (housewife was he, but orderly and clean was he not) – but it felt devoid of life to him. Maybe because it was usually just him. He didn’t blame his husband, Stretch. The days at the research institute just seemed to grow longer and longer, and Stretch usually was only home long enough to eat, shower, and sleep. It seemed to take a toll on him, his attitude with Sans growing more distanced. He was just distracted, Sans figured. It was fine.

‘no, no it’s not!’ his mind insisted.

…perhaps not. He wasn’t sure what had changed. Stretch used to come home somewhat energized – at least, as energized as Stretch could be – talking about his work, his coworkers, his boss, anything that came to mind, and Sans would get into it, asking questions and presenting ideas of his own.

Despite his occupation as a stay-at-home wife, Sans was brilliant in his own right, self-taught in astro and quantum physics, chaos theory, and physical chemistry. He couldn’t rightly explain why he loved the subjects so much, but he’d wanted to know, and his position in life didn’t allow him the luxury of college. It was shortly before he was of legal age that Sans found himself homeless, no longer able to tolerate the abuse of his legal guardian, Gaster. He refused to acknowledge the monster as his father, for he acted like anything but, insulting and scorning Sans when he wasn’t ignoring him, striking him when Sans annoyed him, which had begun to grow a little too often for Sans’s liking. He ran after Gaster broke his arm in a rare fit of true temper, and the monster had never gone looking for him. The subsequent years found him bouncing from job to job until he was legal age, and then he worked three minimum wage jobs to support himself. Any spare moment was dedicated to reading, losing himself in numbers and theories. It was the same material Gaster had studied, and a much younger, much more naïve Sans had picked it up in an attempt to impress him, to bond. The bond had never taken, but the love of the material had.

That was around the time Stretch found him, or perhaps when he’d found Stretch. The tall skeleton had been idly poring over his class notes, looking bored out of his mind at the restaurant Sans worked at. Sans had glanced at the notes and instantly been intrigued, sifting through the information he’d already learned. His softly spoken question had snapped Stretch out of reading the same sentence for the fiftieth time, and he’d blinked stupidly, prompting Sans to snort in laughter and repeat himself. Sans began seeing more of Stretch after that initial conversation, eventually leading to dating and marriage, with a firm, impassioned promise from Stretch that he’d never have to work again.

Stretch had been different then, laid back but enthusiastic at times, sociable and kind. He might still be that way, Sans mused, but he had no way of knowing with how distracted and deflective he was.

(‘how was your day?’ ‘Just fine, dear,’ accompanied with a thoughtless pat on the head as he moved past.) Sans had tried asking if anything was wrong, but was assured that things were peachy-keen and he had nothing to worry about. And so to ignore the old demons that were clawing at his soul, and the sinking feeling that he was losing his life partner, he returned to his books, once more throwing aside his real life for numbers and theories.

Then Papyrus came along.

His previous milkman (a rather old and forgetful tortoise) had retired, and a bright and boisterous skeleton monster had taken his place. The first time they met, Sans was torn between feeling annoyed and feeling like he’d just been punched in the chest.

--

*ding dong*

‘gimme a minute, gerson,’ he muttered, pawing along his folding table for his bookmark without looking. He stood, shuffling along to the door in his dark blue fluffy robe. Undoing the lock, he slowly pulled the door open and found himself wondering why Gerson had a shirt over his face; then he blinked once, twice, and found his eyelights traveling upwards, eventually locking on the dark sockets of a beaming skeleton that was probably only a fraction shorter than Stretch.

‘uh…can i help you?’

‘GOOD MORNING! I HAVE BROUGHT YOU YOUR SUPPLY OF CALCIUM, THE BEST FRIEND OF SKELETONS LIKE US! ALTHOUGH NOT EVEN MILK COULD BE AS GOOD A FRIEND AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS!’

A part of him, unsettled and unused to the presence of other monsters, wanted to punch this ‘Papyrus’ in the jaw, take his milk, and go stick his face back in a book. The rest of him was struck dumb at the sheer amount of energy the skeleton was pouring off. They could probably power Mountain City for a month with this guy (their town founder wasn’t exactly…creative with names).

‘…right. i uh…you takin’ gerson’s place?’

‘INDEED I AM!’ he boasted proudly. ‘GERSON FELT IT BEST TO RETIRE, AND I AGREE WITH HIS DECISION. OUR CUSTOMERS NEED THEIR BONE-FRIENDLY CALCIUM IN A TIMELY AND EFFICIENT MANNER, AND NONE ARE MORE SUITED TO THE TASK THAN I, THE GREAT PAP--’

‘yeah i gotcha buddy, no need to announce your name all the time,’ Sans cut off quickly. What was with this guy? Was his ego that huge? Or had he been knocked around a few too many times and felt a need to remind himself of who he was on the regular?

‘so. in the spirit of timeliness and efficiency, can i have my milk now?’

Papyrus froze, then wailed loudly, causing Sans to step back in alarm. What the-!?

‘PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I SPENT SO LONG BLITHERING THAT I HAVE FAILED MY DUTY. ALLOW ME TO MAKE AMENDS!’

Two bottles were shoved toward Sans and he grabbed them, wondering if he should just accept the extra bottle or shove it back and tell the monster to get lost. His voice was still ringing in his skull…

‘thanks, i guess?? i dunno if i’ll be able to finish it all, but might as well milk this for what it’s worth, right?’

Sans observed the change in Papyrus immediately, saw how the monster’s shoulders stiffened and his eyesockets grew even wider.

‘WAS THAT…A PUN??’

So that was this guy’s weakness? Sans felt himself begin to smile, something he hadn’t done in weeks.

‘sure was. want an-udder one?’

If Papyrus had eyes, Sans was sure they’d be popping out of his skull with how hard he was trying to maintain a professional face.

‘NO, THAT WILL BE FINE, THANK YOU THOUGH! I MUST BE GOING NOW – GOOD DAY!’

And with that, the skeleton did an about-face and prepared to speed-walk away from him. Sans felt a chuckle escape him and he blinked. Well that was…nice.

‘hold up.’

He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, tilting his head as he watched Papyrus slowly turn around.

‘you comin back in two weeks? that was my schedule with gerson.’

Papyrus straightened his spine and puffed out his chest, making another chuckle bubble up in Sans’s chest. He acted like Sans had just insulted him.

‘OF COURSE I AM! I AM HONOR-BOUND TO BRING YOU YOUR SUPPLY OF CALCIUM! IT IS A SWORN DUTY AND I WOULD NEVER SHIRK IT!’

Sans raised a brow ridge.

‘take your job pretty seriously, huh?’

‘I TAKE ANY TASK TO HEART, SIR.’

‘sans.’

‘I BEG YOUR PARDON?’

‘my name is sans.’

He could see the indecision on Papyrus’s face as he wondered whether he should actually use the name or not, and a pale orange blush sprouted high on his cheekbones. Sans blinked at that and felt his grin widen. Well that was certainly pretty.

‘don’t worry, you can use my name or you can call me whatever. either way is fine. but you should probably get mooving along, no?’

A strangled noise got caught in Papyrus’s throat and he quickly turned around, speeding to his truck.

‘GOOD DAY, SIR!’

Sans chuckled again. That felt good. It was nice to laugh.

--

Papyrus’s exuberance was blinding, overwhelming, and it had a strange habit of making Sans’s soul flop in his chest cavity like a fish out of water. In what was an otherwise gray existence, Papyrus was a breathtaking splash of color. He’d grown to crave Papyrus’s visits, was nearly desperate for them. It was a break from the monotony, a break from the silence.

A break from the nearly crippling loneliness.

The time between visits were practically a blur now, though Sans really couldn’t call them visits, could he? He’d been doing his damnedest to keep Papyrus nearby as long as possible, asking questions and offering information freely. He’d come to slowly learn things about the skeleton, tidbits of information that he hoarded greedily.

Papyrus was five years younger.

Papyrus had served in the armed forces (he sheepishly admitted that he actually never made it past PT).

Papyrus was very fond of puzzles (though he once tried to convince Sans that the horoscope was one of the most difficult puzzles he’d ever encountered).

Papyrus’s favorite food was oatmeal with dinosaur eggs (how cute, Sans had thought, hiding his affectionate smile beneath his hand).

Papyrus’s favorite color was “the sky on the first day of spring”.

The list only seemed to grow longer, and Sans was beginning to think he knew more about Papyrus than he knew about his spouse. He smoothed his hands down his knee-length black skirt and tangled his fingers in the hem of his deep blue blouse. It was hard to remember when he’d started dressing nicely for the monster’s visits. He already wanted Papyrus to visit again. This was bad, he thought with a clenching of his jaw. He’d grown far too attached to a monster that was far too bright for a selfish, messed up monster like him. Who even knew if Papyrus didn’t have someone to go home to? Who wouldn’t love to be with someone like him? And why was he even thinking about Papyrus’s marital status? He was married! ‘for how long?’ his mind whispered, and he froze, his fingers nearly tearing a hole in his shirt. That was a ridiculous thought.

…right?

He would need to think about it more, and carefully.

It took another 12 weeks to come to terms with his failing relationship. He spent his time watching carefully, listening, exploring various means to snag Stretch’s attention, feeling increasingly desperate and dejected.

He bought a sky-blue sundress with white and gold flowers scattered across the fabric.

‘do you like it?’

‘Hm?’ Stretch looked up from a stack of files he was poring over and took in the outfit. Sans swore he saw a flash of wistfulness in Stretch’s narrowed sockets, but it was gone before he could be sure.

‘You look lovely.’

And that was the end of that.

He wore it the following morning, and Papyrus had been speechless for a moment before smiling so brightly Sans was nearly blinded.

He tried engaging in more displays of affection and coaxed Stretch to the bedroom. The taller monster agreed to it only once. The movements were somewhat robotic, and Stretch didn’t really seem to be looking at him. Sans felt unsatisfied afterward, and he had a suspicion that so did Stretch.

He again tried to engage more in-depth conversation, but it never got beyond surface level and if Sans had hair, he would have ripped it out in frustration. Another part of him, a part he regularly shoved down with uncharacteristic violence, said that the past was doomed to repeat itself, and he’d be a failure like he’d always been.

It had fallen apart when he wasn’t looking. He didn’t want to accept it, but what choice did he have? He sat quietly in the living room one evening as Stretch looked over more notes and drank a tea Sans had made for him. He breathed in, shutting his eyesockets.

“it’s not working, is it.”

Stretch paused, tilting his head ever so slightly in Sans’s direction.

“What?”

Sans gestured between them.

“this. it hasn’t been working for a while now, has it?”

The teacup was placed down on the coffee table with a small ‘click’, and Stretch turned fully towards him.

“…What makes you say that?”

Sans huffed lightly, trying not to feel angry.

“kind of a ridiculous question, no? there’s…there’s nothing there anymore. not sure when, not sure why, but it’s gone. i can see it on your face that you feel the exact same way.” Sans grit his teeth together, feeling a surge of bitterness before he smashed it down. “you weren’t exactly subtle.”

Stretch said nothing for a minute, and Sans felt his shoulders drop when Stretch sighed.

“You make it sound like I did it on purpose.”

He stared incredulously at the other monster.

“you mean you didn’t?”

Stretch glared weakly.

“Of course I didn’t. It just…happened. I got really involved in my work and by the time I pulled my head outta the water, the spark had just…I dunno. Evaporated.”

“how long ago.”

“Huh?”

“how long ago was it that the spark disappeared? how long have i had to wonder?”

Sans watched as Stretch bodily cringed.

“…I don’t know. Months ago. I just kept up the idea of being absorbed in work. I mean I still am, but…”

Sans’s eyelights became glued to the ground.

“you’re kind of an asshole.” he remarked casually.

Stretch cringed again.

“I know. I didn’t mean to drag it on this long, but I didn’t wanna really admit that it was gone. You were trying and I wanted to try, too, but…I couldn’t.”

The wistful look on Stretch’s face flashed in Sans’s mind and he felt like laughing. So that’s what it was. He supposed he couldn’t be too angry at Stretch. He was feeling the same way, after all. The causes were different, but the result was the same.

“So who are they?”

The other skeleton’s frame stiffened.

“What?”

Sans snorted, smiling crookedly.

“i’m askin’ who the other monster is.”

Stretch’s eyes narrowed.

“Sans, are you accusing me of cheating?”

Sans shook his head.

“nah, we’re both too lazy to take that extra step and cause that kind of drama. but there is someone, isn’t there?”

Stretch looked down, clasping his hands together as if praying. After a long moment, he spoke. “There’s this monster that comes by pretty often with the wife of one of my coworkers. Best friend, apparently. He’s the exact friggin’ opposite of me – bright, energetic, loud, and such a social butterfly that it makes my head spin.”

Sans felt something like horror well up in his chest. Please let it not be Papyrus, please let it not be Papyrus. How twisted would that be??

“He’s maybe just an inch shorter than you, but he has a thing for boots, so he’s always up a few inches. Has a thing for bows, too, it’s kind of adorable.” Not Papyrus. Good.

The effect on Stretch was immediate. A warm, affectionate smile morphed his face into something Sans had never seen before. He thought he had seen a loving expression on the other skeleton’s face before, but this was on an entirely different plane. The guy was absolutely lovestruck. Sans thought it would have hurt more to see that expression directed at someone other than him, but he felt oddly numb.

“Incredible cook, too. He’ll bring tacos, brownies, these really great honey crisps. Definitely caters to my sweet tooth.”

Papyrus was a terrible cook. He’d found out first hand when Papyrus had brought a small porcelain bowl of his “world-famous gourmet spaghetti” and Sans had nearly spit it out upon tasting. When asked who had taught him, he said it was a combination of self-teaching and his best friend who was a military officer and apparently thought violence was the answer to everything. The following visit, Sans had given him a small book of recipes and a suggestion to watch the cooking channel and YouTube, with a smiling jab to take his friend’s advice with a grain of salt, which earned him a flat glare and a declaration of “YOU ARE UTTERLY IMPOSSIBLE”.

“stretch…why didn’t you just talk about it? i mean you’re my husbonedo, but you’re my friend, too. all this did was make us both suffer.”

Stretch snorted softly and his warm smile cooled to a slightly crooked grin.

“Nice one. If it bothered you so much, why didn’t you mention something?”

“kinda gave you an opportunity really early on, and you lied through your teeth.”

“You didn’t press it.”

Sans raised a hand in a gesture that said ‘are you serious?’ “why did that have to be my responsibility though? you were the one that didn’t want it anymore. i had no idea what was goin’ on and wanted our relationship to be okay.”

“Sans…”

His raised hand flipped up to motion Stretch to stop.

“i’m not tryin’ to sound accusing. i’m just sayin’ if you didn’t feel it anymore, you should have let me know instead of making me wonder. It…kinda fucked with my head a li’l. you know one of my earliest goals was to make the folks important to me happy. it’s all i’d wanted as a babybones ‘cause that asshole was never happy. and having you ignore me like he did…i dunno. i felt like that babybones all over again.”

Stretch looked stricken.

“Shit, Sans I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

“i figured. but it’s not your problem, it’s mine. at least, it is now.”

The taller monster wilted visibly.

“Yeah…guess we’re calling it?”

“yeah…we’re calling it. there’s not really any other option.”

Stretch looked uncomfortable.

“Guess so. What now?”

Sans shrugged, feeling the numbness in his chest begin to morph to feel a bit more like a void. He tried to analyze the phenomena and found he didn’t care enough. He tried to focus on Papyrus, that bright ray of light, and felt the growing void falter. He wondered how long he’d be able to cling to that light.

“Tomorrow I’ll go and get the papers so you can sign. I’ll also begin to look for a job, maybe try to put this mind of mine to use.”

Stretch looked even more uncomfortable than before. “I know I promised you’d never have to work again…”

“you kept that promise as long as you could.”

Tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Stretch made an idle gesture with his free hand.

“Look, uh…I’ve been at the research institute for a while now, maybe I could talk to some folks and get you a job at a branch facility? You’ve got the knack for it.”

Sans felt his soul twist oddly in his chest. A chance to work in a field he loved?

“you’d…you’d do that for me? but i don’t have a degree or anything.”

“I’ve made things bad enough.” Stretch paused, looking down. “It’s the least I can do. Besides, they’d be idiots to turn you away. You remember how many times you helped me with my homework when I was in school, don’t you?”

Sans huffed softly to himself.

“there were times back then where i thought you had no business studying this stuff.”

“Just because you’re a natural genius…” Stretch muttered.

Sans chuckled.

The relationship ended on a neutral note, and Stretch began coming home in a better mood. It was a silent agreement that they kept any future relationships to themselves, so mentions of the Bedazzling and Brilliant Blue were kept to a minimum and Sans made no mention of a more-than-passing interest in Papyrus. A different part of Sans, however, the part from his childhood that he’d tried to keep down, felt that the impending divorce was unacceptable, that he’d not done enough to keep Stretch happy. How was he supposed to keep Stretch happy, though, when the kind of monster he wanted was so very different from him? He couldn’t change that much without no longer being himself. Despite that argument, that part of his mind refused to be silenced, telling him that he was a failure, that this would happen to every relationship. He didn’t make Gaster happy. He didn’t make Stretch happy. What was he doing wrong? As the days passed, Sans fell into himself. The finalization of the divorce was barely even noticed by him.

“Sans, you need to eat something. You look sick,” Stretch told him one day. Sans had stopped keeping track of the passing of time. What was the point? Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to snap out of it, that he should never be the one to put that look of concern on Stretch’s face, on Papyrus’s face.

“don’t worry about me,” he replied quietly. “i’ll be fine.”

“No you won’t. Just…here, eat this, okay?” And then a small pastry was pressed into his hands. It didn’t look store-bought. One of Blue’s creations, no doubt. He couldn’t make something this delicate.

Failure.

With his head bowed so deeply, Stretch couldn’t see the tear that slipped down Sans’s face. He stood and placed the pastry on the coffee table.

“no thanks.” A second later, he heard Stretch curse.

“Sans, I didn’t think, I’m sorry—”

“it’s fine,” he cut off flatly, not stopping in his journey to the guest bedroom where he’d been sleeping.

It wasn’t fine.

Sans sat on the porch in a plain white blouse partially obscured by an open navy-blue hip-length cardigan. A thin black cotton skirt fell just past his knees, showing his legs and bare feet. His attire was a far cry from the more colorful outfits he’d worn in the past that garnered glowing compliments from Papyrus, and Papyrus was more than aware of the difference. The change was also reflected on Sans’s face and frame, his dim eyelights glued to the floor and his posture slumped. Papyrus wanted nothing more than to run up that pathway and sweep the smaller monster into his arms, but he was frozen.

Sans was a customer and despite their friendly banter, it had been a professional relationship. It should stay that way. But Papyrus would be lying to himself if he didn’t find himself drawn to the quiet snarky monster. He wasn’t sure why, though. ‘You know why,’ he whispered to himself. He lived for Sans’s uncommon smiles and even rarer laughs. He loved Sans’s jokes and puns, even if he pretended he hated them, and he admired Sans’s incredible intelligence. The skeleton didn’t like to show it off much, stars know why, but when he began talking about space or some other science-y gobbledygook, Papyrus felt awe-inspired. There was a lot of passion there for science, and he wondered why Sans didn’t pursue it more aggressively. What was holding him back? Before he knew what he was doing, he was stepping out of his car and walking down the pathway that led to Sans. That empty look on Sans’s face was unacceptable, and if visiting him on his day off got him in trouble, so be it.

Papyrus frowned to himself when Sans didn’t even acknowledge his presence, still staring at the floor. In fact… Papyrus squinted suspiciously. Sans was entirely too still.

“SANS?”

No response.

“��SANS?”

No response. Papyrus felt a flash of fear. He’d never touched the smaller monster before, but…

He leaned closer, extending one hand before hesitating. Slowly, he removed one of his gloves and placed it against Sans’s forehead. It was cold, and he flinched back in alarm. How long had Sans been out here!? The beginning of winter was setting in, and the wind had a bite to it that pierced his warm reindeer-patterned sweater. Scrambling to put his glove back on, he hesitated for a split second before swooping down and lifting Sans in his arms. Maneuvering the small body so that it was held comfortably in one arm, he tried the door. Locked. Had he been locked outside? …or had he locked himself outside?

Papyrus wasn’t stupid. He knew what misery looked like, and despite his best efforts, Sans had been swallowed by it in the last couple of months. Gradually it had gotten worse, and now…this. What would have happened to Sans had Papyrus not decided to give in to his urge to see him again? He didn’t want to think about it. Shutting his eyesockets and apologizing silently, he turned and made his way back to his car, Sans as light in his arms as a leaf in the breeze. He deposited the skeleton in the passenger seat then walked around and sat in the driver’s seat, turning on the car and cranking up the heat as high as it could go.

What should he do, he wondered. Should he drive to the hospital? Should he stay here and see if the heat from his car would revive Sans? Should he go home? His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the leather of his gloves crunching audibly.

Keeping Sans in the car could prove to be fruitless. What if something else was wrong? He considered the hospital. It would be the most logical choice. Hospitals had gear he could never dream of having, but what could they really do? Hospitals couldn’t fix maladies of the mind, and if it was what he feared, hospitals were rarely able to treat that, either. The will of a monster was a delicate thing, not easily swayed by strangers. All the magic and medicine in the world could not save a monster that did not want to be saved.

Clenching his jaw, he turned the car around and started driving back the way he came. The hospital was the logical answer, but logic wasn’t his strong suit. He glanced at Sans and felt his soul clench painfully.

“NOT YET, SANS.”

His apartment was tiny, at least compared to Sans’s house, but it was meticulously kept with sparse decorations. His room was likely the loudest in the apartment, lined with shelves and the walls covered with things that held his interest. Perhaps he’d show Sans later. But for now…

He placed Sans on his couch as delicately as possible and pulled a chair from his practically nonexistent dining room to the couch. Papyrus sat down, staring at the limp form in front of him, the eyesockets of the other monster having fallen shut on the way over. What did he do first? Did he get prepare tea? Did he try to talk to Sans? He’d never been in a situation like this before. Breathing in, he tried clearing his head. Panicking would do no good. He remembered the words of his guardian and breathed in again, slower this time.

Do what feels best, child. More often than not, your soul will guide true.

What feels best? He dragged his gaze from Sans’s lax features to his chest and felt his soul clench, only marginally less painfully than before. He took his gloves off and placed them on the arm of the couch, then reached forward, placing his bare hands on top of Sans’s chest. Papyrus bowed his head, mentally apologizing again for what he was about to do. What other choice did he have? Checking another monster against their will was invasive and usually done only under extreme circumstances, such as a life-or-death battle or medical emergency. As he analyzed Sans, he felt his bones bleach of color, his eyesockets growing wide with horror.

HP: 0.1/1

Papyrus’s right eyesocket burst with a surge of orange magic like a sunflare and his hands lit with healing magic. Perhaps it was overkill, but Papyrus was hardly thinking clearly. Why did Sans only have one HP!? He bent over Sans’s prone body, his eyesockets squeezed shut, wisps of orange magic curling upward and disappearing. He mentally projected his voice, willing Sans’s soul to hear.

SANS…SANS PLEASE LISTEN TO ME…I KNOW YOU’RE STILL THERE. I WILL NOT LET YOU GIVE UP! YOU ARE STILL NEEDED! I NEED YOU! SO PLEASE, ACCEPT MY MAGIC. LET ME PULL YOU BACK. STAY WITH ME.

Papyrus knew his soul was glowing brightly through his sweater, and for a moment he thought he saw a responding blue pulse beneath his hands, but nothing came afterward. He pressed down slightly, feeling the fear he felt earlier trying to wrap around his soul. He cast it aside angrily and felt tears gather at the corners of his eyesockets.

SANS, PLEASE. DON’T LEAVE ME BEHIND. NOT WHEN I JUST FOUND YOU.

…

PLEASE…

…

…papyrus…

Papyrus felt a quick and violent pull at his magic, causing him to grit his teeth, but it faded and when he opened his eyesockets, Sans’s soul was pulsing slowly beneath his fingers in a shade of blue that he automatically identified as his favorite.

Sans

HP: 1/1

“Thank goodness…” he whispered. He took several deep breaths and froze when he heard a small exhale of air.

“…why?”

“DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID?”

“…i did. but why?”

“WHY NOT?”

Sans tried to move, but Papyrus held him down with a hand on his shoulder.

“YOU WILL LIKELY FEEL WEAK FOR A WHILE. I WOULD RATHER YOU STAY STILL FOR THE TIME BEING.”

The smaller monster tried pushing against Papyrus’s restraining hand, but fell back with a soft sigh.

“i’m not worth it.”

Papyrus wasn’t sure whether to be angry or sad.

“WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU SAY THAT?”

“because it’s the truth. i can’t keep anyone happy. i’m just a failure,” Sans replied with a shrug, ignoring the strange look Papyrus was giving him.

Why would he believe that?

“YOU MAKE ME HAPPY.”

“you haven’t been around me long enough.”

“I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT. THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO WAY YOU COULD MAKE ME UNHAPPY. WELL…UNLESS YOU TOLD ME YOU HATED ME. THAT MIGHT…HURT A BIT.”

Sans huffed shortly.

“i’d be insane to hate you. and it’s probably impossible.”

“OH I’M FAIRLY SURE EVERYONE HATES ME.”

At this, Sans’s eyelights locked on him, narrowed incredulously.

“bullshit.”

“LANGUAGE!”

Sans ignored him.

“there is no way you’re hated by everyone. you’re a ray of friggin’ sunshine,” Sans insisted.

Papyrus smiled softly.

“ONE WOULD THINK SO. AFTER ALL, WHAT COULD ONE DISLIKE ABOUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS!? BUT…” his voice dropped, and his smile became rueful. “It’s quite easy for people to hate me, it seems. I believe the only people who still tolerate my presence is Undyne, my guardian Toriel, and you. It usually comes down to a declaration that I am unforgivably annoying, loud, and full of myself.” Papyrus huffed, crossing his arms indignantly. “Of course I’m full of myself, who else would I be full of?”

Sans bit back the instinctual urge to make a dirty comment, and nodded slowly. He saw that Papyrus’s eyesockets had nearly fallen shut, looking far too sad for Sans’s liking.

“I don’t see my guardian much anymore, and Undyne is constantly traveling. So I guess really all I’ve had for all the months I’ve known you is…well, you.”

“that’s gotta suck. i’m not exactly the best company.”

“I think you’re wonderful company,” Papyrus murmured.

Sans felt his face heat up and Papyrus immediately brightened at the sight of the blue flush.

“YOUR MAGIC IS MY FAVORITE COLOR, DID YOU KNOW?”

His flush darkened.

“what?? don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’M NOT RIDICULOUS, I’M PAPYRUS.”

Sans couldn’t resist snorting in laughter and Papyrus felt his insides warm at the sound.

“I MEAN IT, THOUGH. I NEVER NOTICED BEFORE, SINCE I’VE NEVER GIVEN YOU REASON TO SHOW YOUR MAGIC COLOR, BUT I THINK IT’S QUITE SPECIAL THAT IT’S SUCH A LOVELY SHADE OF BLUE.”

“not as pretty as your magic…” Sans muttered, and Papyrus felt like he was floating. Sans thought the color of his magic was pretty?

“I…Y-YOU MUST BE THIRSTY. ALLOW ME TO MAKE YOU A TEA. YES, I SHALL RETURN SHORTLY, YESSIREE.”

And before Sans could poke more fun at him, Papyrus had disappeared into another room, clanking about loudly. Sans took his time to take in his surroundings and decided that this must be where Papyrus lived. It was…surprisingly plain. He figured there would be a riot of color, but the only color he saw was a single potted plant on the dining room table, meticulously pruned and its flowers a vivid yellow. Everything else, aside from the walls which were a soft cream color, was calming earthy shades that had him relaxing minutely. Spartan, but good taste, he decided.

Why was he with Papyrus anyway? Last he remembered, he’d watched Stretch leave for work and he had gotten up to sit on the porch. He’d been so tired…he just wanted to sleep. No more pain. No more rejection. He felt his soul thump hard against his ribcage and he placed a hand against it gently. Tears slipped quietly out of his eyesockets and he breathed deeply, trying not to let the void consume him again. It wouldn’t do to stress Papyrus more.

“SANS, DO YOU LIKE –”

Sans tried to hide his face, but was too late. He felt Papyrus’s much larger hand grab his and squeeze softly.

“Sans, please speak to me. Why are you upset?” Papyrus hesitated. “Why were you out in the cold for so long?”

“…i wanted the pain to stop.”

This was dangerous territory. Papyrus tried to word himself carefully.

“Could you possibly explain why you’re in pain?”

“it’s a long story.”

Papyrus shifted and squeezed Sans’s hand again. Sans weakly squeezed back.

“I have all the time in the world.”

Sans stared at him for a long moment, then turned his head away and began speaking.

“…i didn’t exactly have the best father in the world. doesn’t deserve the title, really. he did a lot of things i’d rather not talk about. there’s probably no one else on this planet that i hate more. but there was a time where i loved him, where i wanted nothing more than for him to recognize me as his son, to encourage me and treat me like i wasn’t a pariah.” Sans had clenched his other hand into a tight fist and Papyrus grasped it gently, working steadily to loosen his fingers. His eyelights stared straight at the ceiling and were blank, betraying none of the emotions that his hands unfortunately couldn’t hide. “it didn’t work. he ignored me, cast me aside, despite everything i did to try and make him happy. i left when i couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Sans had always seemed so laid-back and content. He’d been hiding this the whole time? Papyrus wasn’t sure how he felt. Normally, he was a very forgiving monster, able to put aside any wrongs for the sake of seeing the good in someone. But to know someone had hurt Sans so badly, and had been a parent at that…

“I’m sorry…”

Sans continued as if Papyrus hadn’t said anything, which led Papyrus to believe that Sans was treating the story as a bandaid and ripping it off in one go.

“i did what i could to survive until i came of age, but that never really bothered me. i was used to being on my own. as soon as i was able, i worked as many jobs as i could so i could have a real place to stay. after that, it was just a blur of time. not sure when, but somewhere in that muck of days, i met someone, this nerdy college kid. his work was on stuff i was interested in, so i mentioned it, and we started seein’ a lot more of each other. i thought that was it, yknow? the end. the person i’d spend the rest of my life with. up until…i dunno. some time ago, i still believed that. may have been weeks, may have been months.”

Papyrus felt his proverbial guts sink.

“he changed a couple years into the marriage. stopped talkin’ to me as much as he did before. i thought maybe he was just busy. every day that went by he got more distant, no matter what i did. and it just felt like i was with gaster again, constantly pushed aside despite how much i gave a damn.” Sans snorted, his expression twisting into an ugly sneer and his left eyesocket flickering with icy blue magic. “didn’t matter in the end. he’d stopped giving a shit about me and become interested in someone else. part’a me isn’t angry about that at all, since i started craving having you around like a crack addict craves fixes, but another part…the broken ugly part…says that it’s my fault, that i couldn’t be what he needed. and i let that part win, because it’s right.”

Sans felt a hand grip his chin and turn his face to lock gazes with Papyrus. He felt a chill go down his spine looking at the steady outpour of fiery orange magic coming from Papyrus’s right eyesocket.

“I WANT YOU TO THANK YOU FOR SHARING SUCH PERSONAL INFORMATION WITH ME, BUT I’M AFRAID I’M GOING TO HAVE TO BE VERY FIRM WITH YOU IN SAYING THAT YOU WERE WRONG.”

Sans felt his eyesockets widen.

“what?”

“YOU WERE WRONG TO LET THAT PART WIN. PERHAPS YOU FOUGHT IT, PERHAPS YOU DIDN’T. IN ANY CASE, YOU BELIEVE IT IS RIGHT, THAT YOU CAN’T MAKE OTHERS HAPPY, BUT YOU ARE WRONG. SANS, I KNOW THIS MAY BE DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND,” The hand gripping Sans’s chin shifted to cup the side of his face, the thumb grazing against his cheekbone. “BUT YOU ARE NOT AT FAULT. YOU NEVER HAVE BEEN.”

Sans blinked owlishly, not quite accepting the words.

“you’re right, i don’t understand.”

Papyrus’s features set in determination and he leaned closer to Sans, causing the other skeleton to blush.

“uh…”

“YOU ARE NOT AT FAULT, AND I WILL PROVE IT TO YOU, ONE DAY AT A TIME, FOR AS LONG AS I HAVE TO.”

Sans felt tears gather again and tried blinking them back to no avail. He tried laughing, but it sounded more like a sob.

“you might end up sacrificing the rest of your life tryin’, paps.”

“THAT IS A SACRIFICE I AM MORE THAN WILLING TO MAKE.”

Maybe it’d be fine after all.

Ending note: ALRIGHT, SO. That was probably riddled with all kinds of shit, and I apologize, buuuuuuuuuut this is what my brain cooked up when I tried thinking of gentle smut. Whoops. I was thinking of doing a continuation where there’s actually smut. Lemme know what you think.

For any missing explanations: the reason Sans didn’t get a job right away. He was doing his best to fight off that pesky demon, and Stretch was having a hell of a time convincing higher ups that Sans was just as qualified for the job despite having no degree or even a modicum of formal education. The reason Sans is still living with Stretch even after the divorce is finalized is...Stretch may have fallen out of love with Sans, but he isn’t an asshole. He knows what Sans went through growing up and he’s not going to even suggest Sans leaving until he’s absolutely certain Sans can support himself. Even if they’re not married anymore, Stretch still sees Sans as a friend. Yes, Sans locked himself outside on purpose.

[askmiraiacademy]

Boss Battle Level 2

       Kisaki hung up the phone and checked the time. Any moment the paralysis caused by her smoke bomb would wear off. She finally broke the silence.

       "It's now been almost eight hours since you went missing. Your friends rescued Daimon-kun in around two. I even called your guardian when I kidnapped you. No one cares you’re gone. You can have your phone back by the way." She tossed the device onto his limp body. "I'm sorry they haven't come yet, it's always disheartening to realize no one cares about you."

       "That's not true." Jataro choked out. His legs and arms felt heavy, his lips barely forming the words he wanted to say. "You're a liar, Masaru said so."

       "Really? I have not once lied to any of you. I said I hadn't seen Monaka at this school, that's not a lie, she isn't here. I said the letter came from the athletics' department, which is where I was when I made the note. I also said that I would strike during the dance, and I haven't harmed a hair on your head. That is, until now. Though I'll be generous and wait until you can at least stand up before attacking."

       "What about when you said you'd do anything to help Nagisa?" Jataro argued.

       "I am helping, by getting rid of someone who demands his attention; be it good or bad." Rise quipped. "It's a shame really, you don't seem like a bad person."

       "But you think I am." Jataro elaborated."You hate me so much, you asked for Monaka's help to take me down and kill me. I bet she told you about my mom and how I like it when people hate me, so you're trying to seem all calm."

       "See, now you're getting it." Rise beamed. "Though you're wrong about one thing, I didn't need her to tell me about your mom. Every socialite knows about how awful Kemuri-chan was. You know: 'Don't wear revealing clothing.' 'Don't go off alone' 'You don't want to end up like Kemuri-chan do you?' She could have avoided being disowned if she just got rid of the baby before anyone knew. Oh wait, that's you!" She puzzled over his expression. "Wait a minute, you didn't know, did you? No one ever told you why people like Monaka-chan hated you." She stooped to his level. "I really, truly, feel sorry for you."

       "Don't say that!" Jataro barked. He gathered enough strength to lash out at her with his scalpel. To his surprise, the blade couldn't penetrate the fibers.

       "You didn't think I'd come unprepared, did you? My dress is made out of aramid fabric, the stuff that stops chainsaws. I doubt your carving tools will do much damage." She brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Well it seems you’re well enough to fight. Let's see how long you can last. You know, we debutantes are known for fighting with our eyes.“

She pressed the surface of her eye, triggering the transformation of her bunny backpack. Huge jet engines extended from the limbs of the rabbit and ignited. The ears detached and wrapped around her wrists as wireless controllers. As she rose to the air, three blinking spheres dropped out the of the bunny's disembodied head. It took only a few seconds for Jataro to recognize them as bombs. "You can run, but you can't hide." She giggled. "I see everything!"

Disembodied eyes flickered to life on every surface of the darkened room. "It's all thanks to these special contacts Monaka-chan lent me. They allow me to see everything that goes on in the school." She brought her hand to her pack's mouth, spinning in the process. "Though I am less familiar with the militant side of this technology." She remarked.

       "You really expect me to believe that you're just doing this because Monaka-chan told you?" Jataro spat. "You said yourself, you hated her, why help her?"

       "Do you know what Debutante means?" She asked playing with the pin on her grande. "It's french for debut, as in making a first appearance. At this age, I should have been the SHSL Socialite, but you'd made sure that would never happen. In order to truly make my debut in polite society, I have to be presented to the upper class... by my parents. See, without them, my talent is completely and utterly useless. Monaka fixed that for me." She pulled the pin and hurtled the bomb to the ground. Jataro rolled away from the flames. "If I get lucky, I can find an heir to old money and resume the path laid out for me.  But why would you care about that? You'd rather be locked in your room playing with your dolls." Jataro searched through his bag and found a solid T-square to work with. Maybe he could hit the bombs back her way, he could defeat her. No telling if he'd actually hit her.

       "It sure seems like you hate me." Jataro countered. "Your parents got caught looking for you and ended up in one of my dioramas."

       "There's that unfounded fixation again." Rise sighed. "You're just a spoiled child begging for attention. It's utter depressing to watch, especially when no one's coming to get you. They're having fun with each other at the dance." She pointed to the ceiling. "We've been right under their feet the whole time, causing explosions, and no one has come to investigate. Because that's what happens to people that are unlikeable. People forget about them and move on with their lives. You'll die here, alone, and no one will bother to look for you."

       "Stop saying that!" Jataro raged. He hit back one of her bombs, causing the air to fill with fire. Rise in turn pulled out a small silver device.

       "But it's true." She said coolly. "The only person that would look for you is dead." She pressed a button on the device, and Jataro realized with a chilling dread what the device was.

       "92 unheard messages. First unheard message." The phone stated. "I didn't see you when I got home for work. I have told you a thousand times you are not allowed to leave this house without permission! Are you trying to piss me off!? Call back as soon as you get this." Rise clipped the phone onto her hip.

       "W-where did you get that?" He asked slowly.

       "This old thing? It's a present from Monaka." She said with a sad smile. "You gave it to her and told her to get rid of it."

       "Second unheard message. Damn it, where the hell are you!? Do you think this is funny? I'm dead serious! Call back now!"

       "There's over a thousand texts from her too. All from the week you went missing." Rise continued. "For someone that supposedly hated your entire existence, she seemed desperate to get her hands on you."

       "Third unheard message. For the last time, where are you!? The school called and said you weren't there. None of the other parents have so much as seen you! Just tell me where you are so I can come get you."

       "I wonder if you'd indulge me in telling me what happened when you finally confronted this woman?" Rise slowly prepared another bomb. "Monaka said you all went to battle your demons, but I'd like to know the details. I mean what kind of person would drive someone to kill them?" He had finally dropped his guard. She feared acting too quickly would break the spell.

       "Fourth unheard message. The fuck is wrong with you? You have to be some special kind of stupid to put someone through this! I know you have your phone on you! I don't care about whatever your stupid little friends convinced you to do this time. CALL BACK DAMN IT!...Just let me know your okay."

       "Certainly sounds monstrous." Rise sneered. That quip was enough to through him over the edge. All eyes in the room were on him as he lunged toward the aloft heiress.

       "You have no idea what she did to me you heartless, spoiled bitch!" He shouted. She launched herself further into the air, dropping four more bombs in her wake. When the dust had settled she swiveled to face him again.

       "Fine don't tell me how you did it." Rise huffed. "Just tell me what she said

       "I don't have to tell you anything." He ducked as more projectiles were fired his way.

       "Just tell me what she said." Rise insisted.

       "No!" Jataro growled.

       "Tell me what she said!" Rise retorted. Back and forth they went. Rise demanding answers, Jataro deflecting both words and weapons. "Tell me!" Rise insisted.

       "She didn't say anything!" Jataro finally proclaimed. "She didn't say anything... She couldn't... I never-" A chorus of footsteps echoed through the battle field.

       "Jataro there you are!" Masaru panted. "You didn't get hurt too bad yet did you?"

       "Once Kaju stopped playing we felt the vibrations near the gym." Nagisa continued. "We came as fast as we could!"

       "Fifty-seventh unheard message. Please for the love of god pick up! Everyone's saying I have to give up, but I know you're out there! Please! Please just answer the damn phone already!"

       "Is that?" Kotoko wondered. Jataro didn't respond. He just stood there as Rise geared up to through another bomb. "Don't just stand there do something!" Kotoko pounded the wall next to her for emphasis, causing one of the eyes to cringe.

       "AH!" Rise shouted, dropping the bomb, but not with purpose. Her hands came up to her eye reflexively.

       "What a minute? Are those creepy things attached to her?" Masaru grimaced.

       "Now's not the time to be grossed out, we have to stop her!" Nagisa ran toward their frozen friend, heedless of the barrage of messages that emanated from the phone. Masaru expertly kicked the eyes using Jataro's scattered tools as ammunition. The debutante gradually lost altitude, blinded by the repeated flares in her vision. Kotoko stood ready with a sculpting hammer and broke the barrels of the jet pack with ease. Rise fell to the ground clutching her eyes.

       "Would you stop hitting those things already!" She demanded. "I can't take it anymore~"

-Error:P0700-

Monaka: “The time has come to choose the fate of the attacker! Do you want to leave Kisaki-chan in the hands of the Future Foundation or have Monaka-chan punish her instead?”

Monaka: “The choice is yours.”

-Voting time! Punish or Spare!-