#And I really want to solder something for him like I was thinking a rose since you know M Rose

[the-forest-flows]

like I bought him a book which I want to go through an annotate with my thoughts and feelings throughout cuz I know he likes handwritten notes

[dailyreverie]

Rose

A/N: Requested by @micheleamidalajedi 🌷 Thank you so much! Today I learned there are autumn roses which I BEG YOU to look at because 1) it is gorgeous, and 2) that's the kind of flower that I had in mind while writing.

Fall prompts 🍂 8. Rose

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader 

Word count: 864 words

[gif by @userpoe (x)]

The rain falling outside all day ushered everyone to stay inside the base. Poe understood, he really did, still, he missed your usual greeting by the tarmac; he missed you being the first thing he saw when he got back, your arms opening to welcome him back, the feeling of being with you that would let him finally be at peace again.

That day more than ever, Poe’s need to see you was more urgent than usual. He didn’t even remove his suit, only tying his sleeves around his waist as he rushed through the corridors, walking past and peeking into meeting rooms and control rooms in hopes to find you there. And he does, at last, and at the sight of you he can think straight again. Poe could stare at you forever like that, speaking softly to a droid while soldering wires to fix whatever problem it had come to you with, a manual long forgotten by your side since, as you just said to the droid on your table: “I think I know what’s wrong with you now, little guy.”

“Hey,” Poe approaches you carefully, not wanting to interrupt your work. It happens anyway at the first hint of his voice, the need you have to see him too almost as big as his.

“Poe!” You turn to look at him with a big, surprised smile, looking at his own smiling face as he walks towards you.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding all day?” He asks, taking in the sight of droid parts scattered around your floor.

“It’s been raining all day, there’s not much I could do about that.” When Poe finally gets to your side your arms reach up to hug him, pulling him to you as you kiss his cheeks with a thousand quick kisses that make Poe laugh, finishing with one last kiss on his lips that makes him sigh, letting all his worries out. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be out there.”

“It’s alright, I found you anyway, didn’t I?” And he’s glad he did. Right there, on your workshop, he found you wearing one of his sweaters to protect you from both the cold, windy rain, and from the feeling of missing him too much, with the sleeves of his sweater rolled up so you could work with the rain as a distant, relaxing sound. You look cozy and you feel like home; with you he can relax again, the mission he just got back from not even playing in his mind anymore. He kisses you, tender but short, a quick welcome before going to more urgent matters. “Do you have a minute? I got you something.” When he asks, his smiling face excites you by itself.

“You did?” You ask surprised, not expecting a gift from him, so you take a step back to be able to look at him again. 

From behind his back he pulls out a small bouquet with a total of 3 flowers, tinted with a mix of orange, red and pink, full of folds and feather-like petals forming an intricate shape. “Oh, Poe,” You sigh, the beautiful flowers brightening up your eyes as they reach your hands. “These are beautiful.”

“Roses, that’s what they’re called.” He adds, not able to look away at the happiness his little gift had brought you and feeling it too himself. They are a little crooked and they lost a few of their leaves, but you look at them with such love that he doesn’t feel like he has to explain all that. “They had fields full of them, and when I asked what they were, I couldn’t help it.”

“Why? What are these for?” You look into his face to find an answer, and on it, you see the reason…

“They mean love.” Poe explains with a soft smile on his lips, one that showed exactly that: love. For you, for that life you had together, for everything that you’ve been through, and for everything to come. “They mean love and… and beauty, and passion, and strength, and all these things that sometimes can be hard to say, especially in the middle of all this mess, but when they told me that, it was like they were describing what I think when I see you.”

When Poe finds your eyes again you are looking up at him with the same love he had given to you. “I don’t even know what to say.” Words may be failing you and you feel choked up with emotion at such a simple and beautiful little gift. He closes the distant again placing a soft kiss on your lips, this time slower, with all the time in the galaxy now that he gave you his gift.

“I’m sorry they’re a bit bent, I had to keep them in the-”

“They’re perfect, Poe..” Cupping his cheek you find each other’s eyes, the delight of being together again teasing your eyes with tears.

Turning his face slightly, he kisses the palm of your hand. “I love you. So, so much.”

“I love you, too.” You kiss him again, forgetting the rain, the thunder and the cold that you had been running away from all day. You had Poe back with you now, you could worry about anything else on any other day.

✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[anthonyjlockwood]

“no more seats have to sit in ur lap” for lukebobby :chaos_elmo:

hi emi!! thank you so much for your prompt!! unfortunately, due to the completely foreseen circumstances concerning who i am as a person, this is absolutely not what you asked for!!! but... try to enjoy it anyway, love you!! 😂 :chaos_elmo:

~

“Place is pretty packed, huh?”

Bobby doesn’t startle at the voice that’s been running through his mind for the past week and a half. Unlike the last few times he’s heard it, though, the blood in his veins doesn’t boil through his body like lava. This time, it doesn’t scald him painfully from the inside out, threatening to solder him to the pew where he sits, knuckles white around the seat of the bench.

And it probably should. Because Luke’s voice shouldn’t be here – his funeral is the one place Bobby should definitely not be hearing it.

Because he can see Luke’s body, still and pale in its open casket, just a few feet away. The smell of roses burns his nose as the forbidden voice rings through his ears, clear as a bell even though its owner can never speak again.

“I know I was young ‘n all, but I never would’ve expected this,” Luke goes on casually, ignoring the way Bobby’s eyes flit from the priest to the casket and back to him. If Bobby closes his eyes it’s almost like they’re sitting front-row at a breakout concert for some up-and-coming band –

No.

Bobby focuses every ounce of his energy, of his attention, on the word, willing it to fill up all the empty space inside his brain where Luke is musing softly. Willing it to drown out the priest’s speech and Emily Patterson’s cries and the wind chimes that are jingling by the door.

Not here.

It was different when Bobby was alone in the garage or his bedroom.

When he's alone, it's a lot easier to give into the hopeless delusion that tweaks at his heart at the sound of his friends' voices. It's easier to shut his eyes and let the fabricated relief flood over him; to pretend that his best friend didn’t die.

But right now, he doesn't have the luxury. He's at Luke's funeral. The proof that his friend is not actually there is staring him right in the face. His parents are a couple of rows ahead of him, weeping into his-and-hers handkerchiefs.

He refuses to let his mind allow this to happen here, in the church full of people mourning a dead seventeen-year-old.

Only… this Luke refuses to listen to Bobby.

“People really turn up for teenagers’ funerals, I guess. Where do you think they all were for all those warm-up gigs we played before the Orpheum?”

This isn’t real.

Bobby won’t turn his eyes to the sound of the voice. Because Luke can't really be here. Nobody goes to their own funeral.

The voice came from behind him, but the next whisper is closer, right in his ear. He shivers at the false proximity. He can feel the static of his suit jacket tingling against something – Luke’s t-shirt – as the dead boy fidgets restlessly at his side.

Luke is antsy, as he’s always been before – especially in serious situations – but now he’s sitting at Bobby’s side. And the awareness Bobby feels at this fact – the fear – drops into the pit of his stomach like a boulder.

But he also knows he shouldn’t think like this – shouldn’t be afraid of Luke, because he isn’t real, he’s not. But the small part of his brain that wants to give into the delusion is afraid that if he turns his head the illusion will shatter.

“I’m not gonna go away if you look at me, you know.” As if he could read Bobby’s mind, Luke speaks again, his voice harsher and more defensive than any of the hallucinations before him. “Can you really blame me for wanting to check out my own funeral? See who came, make sure my parents didn’t put me in a dumb suit or something – they failed, by the way; you shoulda made sure that didn’t happen. And the flowers? So not rock-and-roll. But I’ll let you get away with it, ‘cause you’re grieving.”

Bobby doesn’t reply. Maybe hallucination Luke will take the hint and go away. Maybe he’ll realize that he doesn’t belong here – the only place he has in this church is inside the casket. He’s not alive. He shouldn’t be here; it’s cruel to taunt Bobby like this, and Luke was never cruel.

But alive Luke was never good at taking hints, either. And a small but ever-growing part of Bobby knows that it really isn’t cruel of Luke to taunt him. In fact, it’s probably the least that he deserves.

Bobby killed him. He left his friends to go get food alone. He let them die.

“Hey, look. More people,” Luke carries on, totally ignoring the somber mood inside the church, not seeming to notice the way Bobby’s heart threatens to take off like a rocket ship with every beat. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can handle. Luke’s voice is like salt in an open wound, but as usual, Luke is oblivious to the power his words hold, the feelings of others taking a temporary backseat to his current fixation.

"That’s Mr. Simmons from Chemistry… he hated me. There’s no way he wanted to come to this thing. But his wife – my mom used to play cards with her on weekends, so they probably felt obligated. Looks like he’s being strangled by that tie, though – I wonder if that was on purpose.”

The late-coming couple excuses themselves and squishes past Bobby to the last available seats in the church, the space that Luke – ghost Luke, hallucination Luke, Luke – is currently occupying. Luke politely gets up to make room for them and as they settle in, he briefly turns his attention to the priest, who’s giving a sermon about how everything happens for a reason according to God’s will. And just as Bobby’s about to get up and catapult himself out of there – because there’s no reason for this; no good one, at least... just some rancid hot dogs that should not have been toxic and a terrible friend that should not have left Luke alone – his vision is obstructed as something gracelessly lands on his lap.

The sensation is strange. Because Bobby is fully aware that nobody is actually there, but he feels the phantom weight of Luke as he adjusts himself into a comfortable position, burrowing himself into Bobby’s lap and pulling his gangly legs up into a pretzel shape. The most unsettling thing, though, is that Bobby can almost see the wrinkles forming in his freshly-ironed dress pants.

But there’s no pressure accompanying it – and if Luke were really here, Bobby would have been able to feel him.

“No more seats left, Bobs,” the phantom explains, with an impish grin that’s completely inappropriate under the circumstances. Really, nothing about this is appropriate, but the sight of Luke’s smile sends another bolt of searing pain through the crevice that Bobby’s heart used to occupy. “Guess I’ll just have to sit on your lap.”

Once upon a time, Bobby would push Luke off good-naturedly and laugh as he collided with the Simmonses at the end of the pew. Once upon a time, Bobby would have made a joke about how Luke was too heavy to be sitting on his lap, and was going to crush him to death, taking the entire church down with him. Once upon a time, Luke would have plopped down comfortably and acted like Bobby was the best seat in the house, and Bobby would have begrudgingly tolerated it.

But now, as Luke climbs onto his lap, Bobby doesn’t feel a thing. Where Luke’s heavy, warm weight should have been, there’s nothing.

The world is not so merciful, though, that Bobby can’t see Luke sitting there. His out-of-place grin still sits stubbornly on his face, even though there seems to be something empty behind it now. His face is pale and his eyes aren’t shining with the same excitement they used to. Luke was always so vibrant, so full of life. But now his expression is hollow and empty, lacking what used to make Luke Luke.

Staring at the casket makes Bobby feel like a pumpkin the day before Halloween. Sitting cold on the kitchen counter, hollowed out and carved up, misshapen, just waiting to be discarded once the holiday has passed. He can’t even remember what he looked like before. The deaths of his friends hollowed him out, made him numb, made him lose everything that made him him. Bobby doesn’t know how he’ll ever be happy again when he knows his boys will never be anything again.

After what feels like an eternity -- a long, timeless space in which Luke's non-presence asserts itself suffocatingly into Bobby's soul, as people cry and mourn all around them, the funeral mass ends. The Pattersons follow the casket back down the church aisle. Music and tears and wind chimes act as the somber background noise to all of their grief as Bobby instinctively wraps his hands around where Luke should be – where, just a moment ago, it looked like he was.

But the space on his lap is now empty.

Luke has vanished, gone just as suddenly as he appeared, right out of the church with the casket that serves as his stiff body’s new, permanent home.

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [3]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.3K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I hope you get just as much second-hand embarrassment from this episode as I did. Thank you for waiting and being patient! I hope this chapter was worth waiting for! Look forward to the very end for a special ending scene. Honestly, I was imagining it like an anime and its like an extra that they put in... idk please bare with me. I thought it was funny! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! :) happy reading, loves!

[previous]                                                                                               [next]

Dinner was eaten in silence. After your smart remark, you didn’t have anything more to say to each other. At least, you didn’t know what to say to him. Was it the best choice to be sassy with him? Probably not. But did he deserve it after being rude to your first? Absolutely.

You looked up from your meal to see Bakugou stuffing his face in an angry matter. Only, Bakugou wasn’t angry. He was just like that, little did you know.

The next morning was no different. Breakfast was eaten in silence. If it wasn’t for that small interaction you had with him the night prior, you would have sworn the mighty Blood Prince was mute. But Kirishima swore to you that the prince doesn’t usually act this way. You’d believe it when you see it.

You had joined Bakugou for breakfast and to your surprise, the table was full with dishes; dishes you recognized and dishes you’ve never seen before. Everything was neatly organized and pretty to look at. It was a sight that you’ve seen before. You don’t know why you’re shocked every time.

“Princess,” Bakugou’s deep voice greeted you out of nowhere. You were startled and confused to hear the prince greet you. Up until this point, he has never even greeted you let alone acknowledge you when you step into the room. Was he finally out of his ‘bad mood’, from what Kirishima told you?

“Your Highness,” you greeted him back with a small bow. Kirishima led you to your spot at the table. When you got situated in your seat, he moved like how he did the previous night and stood guard while you and your ‘fiancé’ enjoyed your meal.

The food presented to you, although foreign looking, looked mouthwatering. And when you looked closer, there were many dishes that you actually knew but only plated differently. So of course, you dug in. Like a princess, no doubt. Or, what you thought like what a princess would do. You took itty bitty bites with your best posture: back straight, chin high, careful not to spill any food on you. Since you don’t have many chances to talk to his highness, meal times are the only times that you could make an impression. Last nights endeavors didn’t seem like it made a lasting impression of hate. Looks like its time to bring it up a notch.

“Excuse me for the corniness, your highness,” you started. Bakugou glanced up. Once again those piercing red eyes made you hold your breath for a second. You raised a spoonful of the yellow corn that was on your plate and gave a cheeky smile. “But this is really a-maize-ing!”

Only the sound of your laughter echoed throughout the dining room. Kirishima’s jaw physical drops in shock. Meanwhile, Bakugou stopped chewing, stopped eating and stared at you.

“Lettuce celebrate to our engagement,” you continued to joke, stabbing your fork in the green leaf and held it high as if you were giving a toast. Bakugou’s face didn’t change one bit. But Kirishima looked mortified. He looked back between you and his angry-looking friend, afraid of how he would react to your not-so comical puns.

The longer he stared at you with his blank eyes, the more cold sweat you began to accumulate. The more cold sweat, the more nervous you became and thus, the more panicky you became. He wasn’t laughing at anything you were saying. You panicked. This was not the reaction you were hoping for. You had to say something. You gave him a nervous laugh again and frantically searched for the next best thing.

“Kiwi at least be friends?” you lifted up the delicate fruit with a glimmer of hope in your eyes. Again, no reaction. Kirishima wanted to cover his face so bad. He couldn’t take this torture anymore! But he had to remain professional. “No? Okay,” you gave up, your voice disappearing into a whisper. Pouting and looking down, you ate your meal quietly. You’ve never felt more embarrassed for yourself than in this moment. Heat rose to your cheeks and you wanted to hide away, never to be seen again.

The moment you looked down in embarrassment, Bakugou tried to stifle a laugh. The sides of his lips couldn’t help but curl up in a small smirk. He tried to eat something to calm him down, but as soon as his lips met the metal fork, his lips curled into a side smile that couldn’t be hid. But you were unable to see this side of Bakugou due to your mortification. Kirishima, on the other hand, raised a brow in amusement. This wasn’t a sight you could see every day.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou addressed the red-head. Straightening his posture, Kirishima put his hands beside his back and raised his chin high.

“Your highness,” Kirishima answered.

“Make sure the princess is ready by the time the horses are packed. We have a long trip ahead of us,” the prince announced and was about to leave, but not before you stood up to stop him.

“Trip? Where are we going?” you asked in a frantic matter. There was a moment’s pause.

“As my queen-to-be, you should know the kingdom, no?” he glanced back. This time, his eyes were not so aggressive. There was amusement and a hint of a challenge, as if he was trying to challenge you. The prince made his way out of the dining hall and back to this residence.

 After taking you back to your room to get ready for your trip around the kingdom, Kirishima made a pitstop at the prince’s quarters to pay visit.

“I saw that,” Kirishima commented, relaxing the moment the door closed behind him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bakugou tried to brush it off, but he knows that he’s been caught.

“I’ve never seen you like that around a princess, before. You like her?” Kirishima teased. Bakugou let out a breathy smirk.

“She’s interesting, that’s for sure,” he admit.

“I mean, what was she saying out there? Out of character for a princess, right?” Kirishima finally let out a laugh.

“So out of character that it was funny,” Bakugou, too, let out a small laugh. A moment of laughter passed and Kirishima got serious.

“You think she’s the one you’re looking for?” he asked. But Bakugou couldn’t say for sure.

“We’ll find out after this trip, won’t we?” Bakugou grabbed his iconic cape, draped it over his shoulders and powerfully made his way to the front entrance.

By the time that you were finished getting ready, you made your way to where Bakugou and a group of soldiers was getting geared up. You were dressed in a lighter, more fit for travel, dress. If you moved, the dress wouldn’t be in your way. Although white, your servants packed you many more dresses just like the one you were wearing. Your hair was flowing naturally down your face, leaving an ethereal, fairy-like appearance.  

Bakugou has brought several soldiers along for the trip, all either carrying a box, securing it on the cart, or making sure that all the materials are present. Insides the boxes ranged from a variety of things: food to wood to medicine supplies. You weren’t sure why you need so many things, but you thought it was for safe precautions? Bring more so you don’t worry about it.

“Your highness, everything has been prepared,” Kirishima announced, saluting to his highness. Bakugou stood tall with his signature glare that didn’t seem to faze Kirishima at all.

“Double check?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“We have extra food and clothing?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“The tent is packed?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Weapons are secured?”

“Yes, your highness.” Bakugou flared his nostrils and nodded his head.

“Good man. Let’s head out!” he bellowed. On cue, all of the soldiers that were coming were hopping on their horses. You looked around nervously. You had never ridden a horse before, let alone seen one in person. Did they expect you to know to ride one? But there was no extra horse for you. You were about to ask Kirishima but then, a hand is reached out to you. Turning around, you see the Blood Prince, himself, giving you his hand.

“My lady,” he gently grabbed the tips of your fingers, bringing them to his lips. His gaze never leaving yours for a second. You were expecting him to kiss your hand, but instead, he gently laid his lips on top of his thumb where it rested between his lips and your fingers. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the shocked expression that was blatant on your face.

The prince helped you on the horse but what you weren’t expecting was him to hop on the same horse right behind you. His presence closer than what you have wanted in such a short amount of time. His arms reached around your waist to grab the ropes, unexpectedly pulling you closer to his chest.

Sitting in front of him, you were as stiff as a board. You couldn’t relax your shoulders because if you did, you would be resting against his body. The beginning of the ride was met in silence. No talking was happening, not even among his solders. Talk about an awkward trip. You hoped it wasn’t going to be like this the entire trip. You would be so miserable.

It took a while to escape the palace grounds, but once you did, you were surprised by how beautifully green and luscious the scenery ahead of you was. The sight bestowed upon you was nothing like your imagination. From the rumors, if the prince was that bad of a person, then surely his kingdom would portray that same image: full of poverty, death, killing, blood. But no. His kingdom was thriving.

In order to continue on with the trip, you and your crew had to pass by the local town. The people looked content and happy. They were flourishing! There were many stands selling essentials such as clothing and food. Others were selling odd objects foreign to you. The smell of meat grilling and sweets filled your noise. Kids were running around without a care in the world. There was so much going on that you didn’t know what to focus your eyes on.

Bakugou happened to look down at you, only to see your eyes wide with excitement and wonder. Your head twisted left and ride to grasp the whole world around you. Bakugou looked at you and back at what your eyes were focused on. Behind you, he had signaled his soldiers to halt and move to the side. But you had noticed immediately.

“Why are we stopping?” you asked, curiously.

“One of these idiots forgot something.” Bakugou made up on the fly.

“But we didn’t forget anything,” the soldier with electric blonde hair commented, so quietly that you couldn’t overhear him. Kirishima just nudged him in the gut to shut him up. “Would you like to explore with me while they get it taken care of?” Bakugou asked. You were surprised but intrigued by his question. This was probably the only time in your whole life that you could explore in such a manner. You had to take advantage while you could.

“Please,” you say.

And just like that you looked like a child exploring the world for the first time. And really, that’s what it was. All your life, you served the princess. Your earliest memories were of the palace. You never knew what it was like outside the palace. Everything fascinated you: the food, the smells, the sights, the clothes, the jewelry, the accessories, the people. How could you not know about any of this?

Bakugou watched you closely as you explored on your own and smiled to himself. He was not expecting the princess to act like such a kid.

“You must never get out much in your kingdom,” he comments. You look at him with a shy smile.

“Was it that obvious?”

“Maybe just a little,” he jokes. Your shy smile turns in a more comfortable, laid back laugh.

“I’ve never been outside the palace walls. It’s a first for me,” you say. You weren’t wrong. You were speaking for yourself, but you’re sure the real princess was able to explore her kingdom.

“Now that won’t do. Get whatever you want, my treat,” Bakugou offers to you. Your eyes up once again like a kid. Bakugou gives you his head of approval and now your options were opened like you never imagined. Anything you wanted? What did you even want? You felt like just looking was a treat for you. You were about to decline until the sight of the street food caught your attention. You got a closer look and the smell just enticed you immediately.

From there, it was nonstop to discovering new foods. You tried all these sweet that you didn’t know existed. It moved from food to trying on luxurious clothing and feeling fabrics that was foreign on your skin.

You were following Bakugou around blatantly. He was commenting on some things to help educate you better. But your eyes were so easily distracted. Due to the overflow of people, if you didn’t pay attention, you could easily get lost within the crowd. Unlucky for you, the moment you looked away, the prince had already disappeared from your vision. Panic ensued in you. No matter where you turned your head, you couldn’t see that tall, blonde anywhere.

“Bakugou!” you reached out, terrified. Thank god Bakugou has good ears. The instant you called his name, he was already looking back for you. You reached out and grabbed his forearm, tightly, determined not to let go. Your actions caused Bakugou to become flustered.

“Don’t get lost,” he scolded. Idiot¸ he thought while covering his mouth and looked away. He wanted to hide the very clear blush that was on his cheeks.

A/N: As always, I would love to know your thoughts! The adventure officially begins now! If you would still like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know! They are always open!

Spoiler! Next chapter will make your heart go doki-doki <3

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon​ @melasnchz-things​ @animexholic​ @bkgwrites​ @sam-i-am-1025​ @apexqueenie​ @katsukibabe​ @germfart3​ @tspice283​ @angie-1306​ @bakugous-trauma​ @bakugousmrs​

After scene credits:

“Oi, you seeing what I’m seeing?” Kaminari, one of the soldiers chosen to tag along, observed. Kaminari and Kirishima were resting on top of the roofs, getting a clear view of you and the prince.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Kaminari,” Kirishima rubbed the temples of his head. Kaminari pouted and continued to drink out of his canteen.

“I’m just saying,” he mumbled, sadly.

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

[the-headbop-wraith]

3 _ 44 _ Not the Best News

  The light flashed green, but Arthur wasn’t paying attention. The action didn’t quite ignite in his mind, though he was looking right at it. Lost in his thoughts, searching for guidance to connect the now to a future he didn’t understand. Did Lewis not trust him? He didn’t get it.

 A crackle of static burbled through the radio.

 “Lights green.”

 Arthur shivered. “Yeah. Just checking for traffic.” There was no rebuke on that, though the intersection was bare of vehicles aside from one car creeping forward. The town shut down pretty fast following six PM.

 Streetlamps flashed through the windshield at off intervals, flooding black through the van interior. The rose tinge of Lewis eyes glittered, his shape near insubstantial within the periodic dips of flare bursts. Sometimes, Arthur thought he saw the death suit and skull, despite knowing Lewis would not drop his living guise unless his focus broke. It must suck, maintaining that sort of concentration.

 “Y’know, you don’t have to look that way around me,” Arthur admitted. “I actually don’t mind Sir Bones Esquire.” Lewis generated a sound, but he couldn’t place if it was a hiss or static.

 “I prefer to look not like I crawled out of a grave,” he muttered. The face didn’t move, but the shimmering ember shifted to check Arthur. “Thanks for the offer.”

 Arthur shrugged his shoulder. “I try and keep the board clear. Whatever works for you, I’m game.” It wasn’t resentment, it was something else seeping off of Lewis.

 “You too,” Lewis uttered. He leaned back a little in the seat and crossed his arms. “You got a lot on your mind. You wanna, I dunno, talk?”

 Arthur sniffled. “Not really. It’s, well….” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Maybe later, I gotta tell you some things. Not bad or anything, but it’s pretty heavy. I might… y’know, never mind. That pizza was heckin’ good. How many times did you burn ‘em.” The radio sputtered.

 “Five, I think….”

 “Awesome.” Arthur pulled into the carport for Kingsman Mechanics. The lights were all out, the parking lot empty; the space barren, but for the vehicles dropped. He climbed out of the driver side and shut the door. On the other side, Lewis swept through the grill of the van in a swell of light and embers.

 “Dude, c’mon,” he uttered. “Don’t risk the gas tank.”

 “It’s ethereal fire,” Lewis rasped. “Absolutely harmless.” He walked with Arthur to the front doors, the keys already twinkling.

 “Hard to tell with you.” Arthur slotted one key, then the next. Until, Lewis brought his hand close, sparking a smoldering ember at his palm. Arthur jolted. “Shit! Warning, next time.”

 “Siento.” At the entrance Lewis waited, while Arthur popped inside and gave the building a brief exploration. Within seconds, Arthur returned and beckoned.

 When exiting out the entrance corridor, Arthur flicked a switched on the panel and activated the lights throughout the main work floor. “Okay, the boxes are upstairs by the door of my work room. Stacked. I meant to grab them, it didn’t happen. You can’t miss them.” The details dropped, he skittered out of Lewis company, sprinting across the work floor.

 “Where are you going?”

 “Need parts for my arm. I was kinda in a hurry, excited I was gonna get out of here before Viv started texting me. I didn’t want her to worry.” He spun around, throwing a finger gun Lewis’ way. “I’ll be up in a sec.”

 “What else did you forget?” Lewis departed on his alternate route to the dark corridor, leading to the stairway. “Should I grab the kitchen sink, too?”

 After a beat, Arthur called back in a sharp whisper, “It couldn’t hurt.”

 The worktable was as he left it, which was what he liked. He pulled open the drawer where he kept a sturdy case for the tools he routinely transported in or out, depending on his schedule. There was a specific method for undoing the clasps without the aid of a second arm, it was a little awkward to do since it required the use of his knee. It mostly kept the case stationary while he pried up the latch, but his movement was so practiced it took a mere five seconds. In a smaller drawer beneath the table surface, he kept the soldering wands for minute detail work. If he could, he wanted to get the remedial delicate stuff. It was simple enough, but tedious—

 Crack!

 Arthur jolted and whipped around, instincts on high alert. His eyes flashed around the room, studying the vehicles left prepared for tomorrow’s shift, the rotary lifts and supply carts spaced throughout the work floor. What was that? It was loud, the clamor reverberated through the hollow garage, emphasizing isolation and a prowling threat.

 “Um… Uncle?” he called. No response. Not good. Arthur reached behind him and clenched a wrench. “Who’s there?” He didn’t risk calling the name of the one that should be, but the fact an answer was NOT forthcoming was worst of all. It was okay. It would be okay. He took a breath and crept forward, moving behind a small car and checking through the windows – searching through the tinted glass for an amateur hasting to relocate amidst his momentary ‘distraction’. The silence peeled apart his senses, he should pick up someone breathing or even their deepest thoughts. Was anything missing? He couldn’t tell, and it wouldn’t matter. Someone was here, he was certain.

 After taking a short trip around the work floor, he scurried to a far wall and set the wrench down on a table, then jammed a fist into his vest pocket. Before his fingers could grasp at his phone, the hair on his nape prickled, spurring him to whip about. With a yelp, he backpedaled from the hulking shape. His yelp was more of a ‘YEEE!’ and his retreat sent him staggering, when he brushed against the corner of the desk.

 “Who the fack?! Hey—” He tumbled to the floor, as the shape snatched at the wrench abandoned upon the table. He rolled until his arm was situated under him, and sprung onto his feet. “Who the—” His voice sputtered, the wrench gave a menacing CLANG! upon skipping across the concrete floor.

 At first, he did believe in his heart that this was Lewis. In the dark and sinister parts of his memories, Arthur believed that the spirit had crept down to invoke some cruel ploy to torment him. But as the shape swept through the dull glow of light, he could cleanly distinguish that this was a grunting, breathing, agitated man in a mask. The intruder person kept weaving in and swiping for his arm, intent on incapacitating him through crude means. A shame that Arthur was much too spry and hardwired for evasion, the vandal didn’t expect such resistance either.

 The irony of everything, that a masked person would intrude in the shop and assault him. What the hell? He got enough of this crap on rando assignments, this was break from that drama. So much for that fantasy.

 Did something crash, elsewhere? Oh boy, oh shit!

 “Man, you don’t wanna do this!” Arthur vaulted over the hood of a van and zipped around the side. The big guy was quick too, though not as agile. He huffed and puffed, pursuing like a bear on honey. “You really don’t wanna! I’m warning you! Yikes!” With a lunge he crashed to the floor - he cleared the table, but got snagged by an impact drill and its cord. “YOU! You’re getting into some bad shit!” He screamed bloody murder and scrambled to his feet. The intruder hauled up a whole muffle and swung it down – cracked the concrete and missed his foot by an inch.

 Arthur sprang one way, then the other around a small convertible. Intruder followed, swishing the muffler like a damn katana. In a risky slide, he dove by and scrambled to one of the rotary lifts with a jeep suspended. He shimmied up one tower and clambered through the vacant side door, scarcely hauling his legs out of the way before Intruder with muffler could swing and knock his knees off.

 “I’m tellin’ you! You gotta leave,” Arthur went on, speech breaking. A fleeting glance surveyed the room, but established no sign of eyes or fury. Still time before this guy got cooked. “For your own—” The muffler collided with the arch of the jeep and the jointed pipe glanced his shoulder. The world twisted as he toppled backwards, and off the hood of the jeep. It was oddly reminiscent of those dreams, the nightmares. He knew what came next.

 Unexpectantly, his body collided with a stack of empty boxes.

 The masked intruder gulped down cold air, more excited than winded through the exertion. They glanced around, where was it? In all the ruckus, their mind blanked on where they dumped it. Turning, they spied something that made them abandoned the search cold turkey. This was entirely due to the large hand snagging their shoulder, and flinging them like a doll. Heat and an overwhelming scent of char clouded their senses, dissipating only when they descended from the short flight.

 The trajectory sent them on a collision course for a flatbed cart, which they tumbled off and skidded across the floor. They didn’t stop, barely checking that their legs remained connected to their spine before retreating from the scene. Exit! Escape! Where was the way out! As they fled, they patted at their sleeve and mask, embers scored their clothing – The hell? The intruder was unable to make sense of where they went, and crashed into a work bench. With admirable grace, they recovered, a pronounced limp following; metal parts and tools clanged in a cacophony of symphony across the floor. They kept going, not chancing a look back and barely examining the area through the sparks dazzling their eyes.

 Posed from throwing whoever that was, skull and death suit, eyes blazing, and fire still crackling at his ribs. Lewis would have given chase and done some real damage; there might’ve been something like self-control, perhaps even a capture if he was feeling generous. However, he couldn’t detect Arthur, and the figure buried under boxes was unresponsive to all the horrendous business afoot. He was not playing possum; Arthur couldn’t fool him.

 “Arthur?” his tone withered, and became distorted. He glided closer to the comatose figure and towered, gazing down. With hesitance and some second thoughts, he reached down slowly—

 Right through the heart he’s shot! A full slug punched directly through his facade and tore the locket clear off his coat front. WOW. What a mistake that was. Lewis twitched, fists clenched tightly at his sides. The last time he felt a sensation like that, it was after falling a considerable amount and choking on his last breath. He could almost feel the heavy tempo of a heartbeat fade out a second time.

 HE

 DID

 NOT

 LIKE

 THAT

 Directly behind Lewis at a two-meter pace, Uncle Lance stood with a rifle, barrel smoking. It was a good and clean hit, the gray wall on the other side visible through the incision torn through. He waited, uncertain what should happen next. The thing in front of him, how could it be described? It looked vaguely man-like, it had the shape of a person. Except for the ‘head’, and the gap above the open collar where a neck should occupy.

 Lewis cocked his head and let his skull swivel, peering back. Another igniting thunderclap, and the spirit snapped around fully, cowering. Fist trembling beside his hip.

 “Yu step back from m’boy, ya reject Hall-oh-ween Deck-ARATION!” Lance gave the rifle a crank and took aim. As he watched, the vacant hole in the torso filled in with a strange, glossy light. The chunk in the shoulder sizzled, and what looked like fire crackled over the rich color of the suit. A skull and suit; a very malevolent and pissed looking skull. “YA HEAR!”

 Terrible and antagonistic ruminations boiled through Lewis’ consciousness. An endless fall, the impact – mind fractured and every piece of his body dislocated. Shadows sweeping in, swirling around that bent figure high-high above, and the jewel glittering at the center of its sneer. Wild, unruly cackles clattered across the walls of the abyss, mocking his pain. Drinking up the agony spilling across the sharpened stalagmites, as every ounce of care and thought drained away.

 He glided toward the attacker, taking another bullet seamlessly in the abdomen. Ribs next, splintering – each patch of destruction inflicted, vanished in a swell of heat conjured by his blazing soul. The pieces and sharp fragments of Lewis fitted back, reworking a bizarre pattern of that day many-many moons ago. Rising, the bitter aversion for this betrayal. Abandoned, isolation and pitiless grief that followed. The loneliness, and sense of loss saturating his very essence. Corrupting, robbing him of warmth and tenderness, replacing everything with whispers and fire. Another piercing bolt, to his lower arm – a wild shot. Panic infused.

 Someone was very deserving of all this pain. It would feel better to share it, cleave a sliver loose. Release a portion of that fury threatening to boil over like a raging, scalding tsunami. Let them feel a taste of the bitterness that plagued him.

 As the thing approached ominously – clear malevolence burned in the pits of the skulls eye sockets – Lance became steadily more alarmed. There had to be a way to stop it. Someway, he had to put an end to it. But it was apparent brute force wouldn’t do it in. He backed away, nearly colliding with a supply cart.

 “Stop!” he snarled. “You can’t do that! No! S’not possible! I won’t believe it!” The next projectile tore through the apparition’s center, but before the echo faded the gaping breach vanished. Lance buckled backwards, gun dry. “ARGH! What are yu made of!”

 The rifle swept from his grip and the spirit hosted him up by the front of his vest, yanking him clear off his feet. It glared into him with those intense, blazing embers bristling deep within the cavernous eye sockets. “The souls of the innocent….” Lewis wound back an arm, fingers twitching—

 “A bagel?”

 Lewis froze. “Artie!” He dumped Lance and whipped around, shooting to the cluster of busted boxes. Before he could lean down, he hesitated – the lights about the work station flashed. “What… happened? I, uh… you’re hurt.” Arthur was sitting up, holding his neck and quivering under the drill of pain in his head. It was vibrant, he could almost feel it in his own skull.

 “Honest, I don’t… remember. Oof.” His hand reached over and touched the empty spot of his shoulder.

 The confusion was apparent, as well. Lewis needed to wait and see what Arthur came forward with. It might confuse Arthur if he bombarded him with questions, or prompts; he didn’t get a good view of the whole scene. Aside from the flush of rage that compelled his reaction. This couldn’t be rushed, and the other needed time to adjust and come around. Especially since Arthur appeared uncertain of what happened, despite his poor negotiations.

 “Did you… try to dump me off somewhere? High?” Now, Arthur peered up at the looming shadow. He couldn’t gather much of Lewis’ features, aside from a towering silhouette and the heated fuchsia orbs peering down. It was super unnerving. “That seems like somethin’ you’d do. Fuk… m’back.”

 Lewis smashed a fist into his palm. “That person! This guy!” A puff of flame sparked at his collar, and the embers in his skull snapped into hostile pinpoints. “I don’t know what happened, but he threw something. And then, you FELL! It – uh, I thought….” His speech sputtered into harsh screeches, staccato and hard to distinguish.

 “I’ll go ahead and take your word on— No, wait. I don’t remember some guy.” Arthur flinched, his head ached too. “I remember running, and I know I was scared shitless.” Lewis gawked down at him, for once it was endearing and mortified despite circumstances. “Some… guy?”

 “In a mask?” Lewis cocked his skullish brow.

 Arthur nodded. Ooh. Hurt. “That I remember, I think. Fuck… damn. You didn’t go after him?”

 “You. FELL.”

 Arthur pinched his brow. “Okay. Shut up. You… I can barely understand you. What? I’m the one that—” He withered, trapped in place by the barrier of boxes bent around him. The barbaric cry could terrify morally questionable crocodiles.

 The wild and furious snarl was Lance’s doing. He crept in closer to the spirit with his arms outstretched and two fingers locked together forming a significant and easy to recognize T. Or X. No, it was a definitely a T. A crucifix, like in the movies.

 “Evil… BOO! I banish yu!” Lance scooted in closer, edging out around at an imaginary tether which directed him toward Arthur. Determination in his eyes and sweat on his brow, his beard frazzled, that glare did not loosen from the invading spirit. “I don’t believe in this spook fun house nan-sense, but I’ll not have yur sort here terrorizing my kid!”

 A touch annoyed Lewis drooped. He debated straight up punching Lance’s lights out or stuffing him in a car trunk. Anything to get him out of the way, if only for a couple minutes. They didn’t need this.

 Arthur groaned. Everything was loud and annoying, it wasn’t just Lewis. His grumbling kicked up into a theatrical scream, “A g-g-ghost! Here! You’d better leave, disgruntled… apparition? Fuk, I don’t have the pharmacy enough for this bullshit.” He leaned to the side, moaning. “I mean, eeek! Argh! Spirit! You had better leave, before… I dunno, you’re banished by my dear Uncle’s very clear, um… exorcism. Or whatever he’s doing. OOoooOOooOOOOOoooohhhh….” Under his breath, he spat, “For fuk’s sake, you’re compelled to obey!”

 Lewis crossed his arms and leaned a little away from Lance. “Yeaaahhhh, gunna hit that up with a hard no. Not really in the mood, capiche?” He glowered directly down on Lance, right at his face with gloved hands outstretched with that ridiculous T. “Stop that or I’ll give you something to bitch about.”

 Arthur took a sharp breath. “Why do you hafta be so pissy?” Everything. HURT.

 “Stop with the language, and I might consider an attitude adjustment.”

 Arthur screwed his eyes shut. “Uncle Lance, that’s not gunna work.”

 Lance fizzled out. “Ehh.” He gawked at the skull, and the skull glared back. For the life of him, he could not begin to figure how it was suspended there. “Then… what will work?” He shuffled the remainder of the way to Arthur and crouched down, protectively. His gaze never wavered from the hostile… it was a ghost, wasn’t it? “What d’we do? How d’yu get rid of it?”

 “We don’t get rid of HIM,” Lewis huffed, pointing at Lance. “HE gets an ice pack for Arthur. Keep an eye on him.” In a flash of sparks, Lewis vanished – the extinguished cinder formed an outline before the ash hit the floor.

 The unexpected flare forced Lance to recoil, more from the vibrancy than any anticipated retribution. Once the haze faded, he searched around. No sound, no evidence of the spirits presence – aside from that familiar burning. That wasn’t important, what was important was Arthur.

 “Yu’re the expert. Is there… a pesteecide? Tell me, and I’ll get it done.”

 Arthur struggled to get up. “It’s a….” He flopped back, it was worse than a ballpit, made worse by the throbbing in his head and shoulders. He could remember up to the jeep, then it all got somewhat fuzzy. Lance assisted in easing him off the crumpled mold of his shape, nice and easy, careful not to rush. “He’s like a thorn bur, you try plucking it off and you’ll get third-degree burns.”

 Lance blinked. “WHAT?! Is that whut happened to your neck?!”

 This was not needed right now. And the guy, their mysterious assailant. Where was he now? Arthur couldn’t debate it out too hard, though some of the ache was fading, subsiding into a monotonous drum. He groaned in his throat.

 Then, on the floor. He noticed it beside one of the crushed boxes, snowed in by packing peanuts. The cracked locket. Despite dislocation, it persisted to pulse in time with the throbbing in his ears.

 “Shit-shit!” He scrambled out of Lance’s grip and snatched the thing up; it took a beating by the looks. The hinge creaked and unexpectantly the door swung open, threatening to pop off. Cursing, he struggled to hold it one handed without the whole thing coming apart. Without meaning too, he saw within. There was a photograph. He inched down, squinting at the textures and shapes, trying to make sense of what was there. He didn’t know there was—

 A dark hand snapped the locket from Arthur’s grasp and shut it. He bristled. Lewis had returned. The spirit looked downright sinister, as he set the ashen artifact back to his chest.

 “I didn’t—” Lance grabbed Arthur and heaved him back. Lance’s valiant efforts halted, when Lewis unceremoniously shoved him off. An icebag settled on Arthur’s head.

 Lewis knelt on one knee, one hand loaded with supplies. “I’ll invoke my deeply nefarious plot for revenge at a later time. When you’re fixed and patched, and likely better apt to outrun me.” He adjusted the last few items in his hand, by tucking a water bottle into the crook of his arm and twisting open a pill bottle. “You get one of these.” He set aside the pill bottle and popped the cap on the water bottle, enough to break the seal.

 Sprawled on his back, Lance observed with a perplexity beyond known rational. “Okay. What is goin’ on ‘ere?” He moved upright and jabbed out a hand toward the spirit. “What is this thing, really?”

 Lewis glared. “Rude.”

 Arthur swallowed the pill and took the water bottle. “It’s not the strong stuff.” Rather sip, he pressed the chilled bottle to his neck.

 “The strong stuff will put you in a coma, and as much as I’d prefer that, I need you awake for awhile. It’s a concussion, not a concession.”

 “Mmm, I’m lovin’ the bedside manner. You’re such a dish.” He took a sip and let the water warm before he swallowed. “Oof.”

 “Thank you for noticing, I’ve been wor—”

 “What in blazes is goin’ on!” Lance exploded, figuratively. “Arthur Kingsman! Explain! Should I call a priest, a medic! Or… what! What m’I suppose to do? Yu’n Viv-vi dealt with this’n supernatural mischief! Professionally! I can’t have these….” He jabbed a hand the spirits way, grasping for words, “…these critters, creeping into my shop! I need somethin’!”

 Arthur hung his head and sipped more water. On the sideline stood Lance tapping his foot, veins popped on his face. This was such a mess he wasn’t sure what to say or do, where to begin. “I need another pill.”

 “No,” Lewis grated.

 “Arthur,” Lance grumbled, tone stern but considerably nerfed since the eruption. “Tell me somethin’. What am I supposed to do here? I wan tu help.”

 “It’s me, Uncle Lance. Lewis Pepper.” Arthur choked on the water he was sipping. “You shot me, by the way.” Arthur made a sound, but if it was human or not was the riddle. “Maybe don’t inhale….”

 Lance stiffened; teeth clenched. For a full minute he didn’t say a word, but his sturdy outline quaked. “No!”

 “Well,” Lewis chattered, “You didn’t… kill me, I’ll give you that. Don’t worry. But you did shoot me, like, twenty times.”

 “It was four!”

 “Whatever.” The Lewis spirit fixed Lance with his scalding ember eyes, not looking pleased. And there was some familiarity in that expression, despite how feral and agitated it was now. Despite it being a bleached skull, lacking traditional and easily mapped expression.  “It didn’t feel nice.”

 “Impossible! Yu can’t be Lewis!” Lance stamped a foot. “Yu are not Lewis! That dusn’t work!”

 Arthur exhaled, catching the attention of both. “Can you not shout?” He pinched the water bottle in his arm crook and adjusted the ice bag on his neck, before it slid off. “He’s Lewis, okay? He’s not alive, but he is Lewis. We sort of… Viv-vi and I, ran across him awhile back.” How to explain THAT mess! “He was there, and we had car trouble….”

 “Funny story,” Lewis broke in. “Thrilling in a lot of ways. Quite the adventure.”

 “No! No-no-no-no-no- no-no-no-no! And NO!” Lance swung his arms out, declaring, “Lewis Pepper is dead, gone! He’s never coming back! You said so yuserlf! Yu and Viv-vi, you kids gotta let that go.”

 Arthur face palmed against the water bottle. Oh boy.

 Lewis rose to his full height, was it possible he made himself taller? He became a looming, malevolent shadow with piercing eyes. “And maybe I don’t want to let them go. Have ya ever thought of that? Uncle Lance?”

 Arthur dumped everything and leapt up. He caught Lewis by the tie. “That’s it! I’m calling time out!” To Lance, “Uncle, this is Lewis! He’s dead, it’s a long story, and it is my— ”

 “A bitch!”

 “You! Lew? What’s gotten into you?”

 Lewis hunched over placing his skull inches from Arthur’s face. “He. SHOT. Me!”

 “And? You can’t feel it!”

 “It hit me right in the feels! Nineteen times!”

 Lance hooted, “It was four, ya dumb spook!” He flinched when Lewis looked his way, eye sockets flooded thick with flames flickering. “I don’t BELIEVE in this bogus heebie-jeevies! Why d’I hafta look at it, when I don’t believe in it? This ain’t right!”

 “That’s offensive,” Lewis shrieked, “I don’t appreciate your tone!”

 A ringing chimed loud and brilliant in the momentary calm amid the fury of the storm. Arthur staggered away, first jamming a hand into his pocket and realized his phone wasn’t there. Of course she would call. They were super fucking late, they should’ve been back days ago.

 Arthur pushed through the office doorway and fumbled for the light. In his alarm, he forgot it was on the side of his left arm. He gave up, and went straight to the buzzing receiver on the desk.

 “Lords, I hope they don’t kill each other….” He shifted around and checked out the doorway. “Or, I hope Lewis doesn’t— Viv-vi! HEY!” The icepack was sorely missed. “No, everything’s fine. What, uh… gave you that idea? What about my voice?”

 Lance squeezed into the office, rifle in hand. “It doesn’t belong ‘ere. End of discussion.”

 Lewis hung in the doorway, eyes flashing and flames swelling off his shoulders. He was going to ignite something. The whole shop would implode, just like the mansion. “I’ll tell you what doesn’t belong here! We need to exorcise that nasty attitude! See how you like it!”

 Arthur pulled the phone from his ear and fitted the mouthpiece into his palm. “WHY! Did you two follow me.” He shoved the phone to his shoulder. “No! We, er… yu see what happened here, we’ll— I really can’t explain. I need an adult.”

 Lance reached for the phone. “Lemme talk to her!”

 Arthur sprang back, holding the phone high above his head. “No!”

 “Te satisfaría? If I show you? Arthur, I need a mirror.”

 Arthur climbed onto the desk, screeching into the phone, “Vivi, for the love of holy doughnuts, please come here, asap! I don’t care if someone sees Mystery! You! Here! NOW!” He slammed the phone down and scrambled off the desk, completely losing his footing in the process and nearly faceplanting. “Can you both NOT SCREAM bloody murder for two minutes! Five minutes? S’all I’m asking!”

 After that outburst, both Lance and Lewis clamped up. Arthur shoved his way out the door past Lewis, and crossed the floor back to where he abandoned the ice bag and water. He plopped down on the ground with his back to them, his lone hand fastened to his springy hair, and wilted.

 “Fuck.” Lewis swayed, drawing a hand up to the front of his suit. He eased a ways out beyond the portal but paused, once more fiddling with his tie. To the side, Lance was inching out.

 The look on Arthur’s face, he’d never seen an expression on his nephew quite like it. Except when…. Lance’s first instinct was get to him, the lad was distraught – the intuition an understatement – Arthur needed… a word. Support. But an arm slashed through his path, stalling the reflexive drive. He nearly refuted the action, the protest was on the tip of his tongue. But something snatched the words away, his throat became dry. For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss.

 Given the chance to observe the spirit – as it were – a moment to examine the features, it’s strangeness; a sense of familiarity soaked into him. When it wasn’t glaring or coiled up, he could get the feel for something else. Like a shadow stamped into the world he understood, a vivid memory of someone he could easily recognize from a distance. An unmistakable figure, distinct from a crowd. This… thing, it looked nothing like Lewis Pepper, but the gait it carried, the movement of its arms, it was unmistakable. Somehow, he knew this… thing, but dissension saturated the connection, and its presence was disjointed. It wasn’t alive, yet it was here. Most important of all, it wasn’t going away.

 “You, uh… I think he’ll be fine.” When Lance spoke, the smoldering returned. It did NOT like him. So, what was it? What, not who. It couldn’t be…. “I’m… gunna sit down, fer a bit.”

 Lance left for the breakroom and made himself a pot of coffee. When he returned from the recess, pot in hand and a stack of Styrofoam cups; Arthur was still seated far from the office, but updated to a stack of boxes that bore his weight. He gave a brief nonintrusive examination, only to confirm he was still breathing and not in any sort of apparent pain. From there, he went to the office to clear his thoughts and keep an eye on the area.

 The lights hadn’t been turned on at all, and he almost forgot about the… thing. In the shroud, he nearly missed it seated at one of the chairs facing the desk, eyes aglow, the faint shimmer of its stylish hair. It sat arms crossed tightly, one leg slanted over the other. It didn’t respond when Lance entered.

 “I think you have a story to share.” Lance sat one cup in front of the spirit and poured some coffee. The spirit refused to acknowledge his presence, and almost appeared photographic in its uncanny stillness; it wouldn’t even look at him. He reached over the side of his desk and pried open a drawer, and from the drawer, pulled up a small tray with containers of sweetener and nondairy creamers. “You a lil sour? What’s up?” He poured a cup for himself and blew at the harsh steam. “Not doin’ nothin’ but broodin’.”

 There was a change in the spirit. The gleaming eyes were now locked on the white cup steaming in front of it.

 “I don’t understand how this works,” Lance admitted. He plucked up the dislocated phone from the desk and set it back to the receiver. “Am I supposed t’say a special codeword? Is there a ritual, an uh… Ouiguh board.” The lamp on his desk flickered, came on, and then the bulb popped in a firework splash. Lance winced, sharply withdrawing his hand. Okay, what the FUCK. “Did yu do that?”

 “Not on purpose.” Praise the stars, it spoke. “Check on Arthur.”

 He wasn’t certain if that was a hint, or a direct command. “Juz did. He’s fine. This is mah office, by the way.” He managed to get a sip of his coffee. “I won’t harass him with this, not now. And I won’t wait for Vivi-vi. Before we get tu this…. Yu say a person….”

 “Guy in a mask.”

 “All right.” Lance nodded. “Before we pop that can of worms, before any of that. You’re here. I’ll go so far as admit that. But,” he gestured vaguely. “How did this happen?” Those vibrant eyes flicked up to him.

 “It’s complicated.”

 “Hmm. Don’t like t’way you said that.”

 “Funny. I could care less what you think.”

 Lance took another sip, and set his cup down. “Listen. Ghost Lewis.”

 “Just Lewis,” the spirit had a wispy, sometimes airy way of speaking. The voice didn’t come from it, which made sense, because it didn’t have a mouth. “I’m still Lewis. The only difference, I lost custody of the body.” He huffed, and a bright flame flashed from its neck collar. Lance leaned back in his chair, uncertain what to make of… everything.

 “Lewis, then.” He moved his line of sight out of the office, once more checking on Arthur. “Y’know Arthur’s m’boy, and I won’t have yu tormentin’ him.”

 For a few minutes Lance sat, mulling through a history he thought was sheltered away in the deep parts of his memories where he preferred not to dwell. His fingers pressed tighter around the defenseless cup in his grasp, the warmth seeped through the insulated material and into the thick gloves he wore. The white of the cup cut through the bleak patterns of the gloom, reminding him of the brightest sheets he’d ever seen – specks of crimson and brown, where the bandages couldn’t stifle the work to recreate a shoulder. Arthur delirious and agonized, unaware that he was maimed as badly as he was. The details were unattainable, shattered and cast out a window. Nothing helped, no amount of medication.

 Something happened. Vivi lost her memory. It was awful. Mystery was gone, vanished entirely like a… well. Arthur was beyond consoling, overrun by trauma, nearly splint in two. There was no way to construct a complete narrative, aside from it being a terrible Accident. Irreversible. Lewis never came back, and Arthur insisted that would never change. And they had to accept that.

 If he held the Styrofoam cup any tighter, it would spill all over his desk. Lance rubbed at his face, trying to quell his thoughts. Those nightmares kept him up some nights, but he was a master of not showing on the worst days. Arthur had enough to deal with, and apparently more so these days. He sighed, still refusing to raise his gaze to the thing seated across from him, trying to dwell on the mystery of how it could be so devoid of warmth despite what looked like an ember wavering near its shoulder. He tried once more:

 “He’s said some things I don’t fully grasp, admitted stuff I don’t have a full spectrum or insight intu.” He rubbed a thumb over the rim of the cup, gazing into the dark depths of the liquid within. “‘E’s been through enough, he’s regretted t’things that happen’. Losin’ you… I don’t even think he realized ‘iz arm was gone, not until—”

 “Uncle Lance.” It was almost heartening, the way the spirit – Ghost Lewis. Just Lewis – persisted to refer to him as Uncle, same as his friends. The same way he did when alive. “I lost my life, and all of that had a negative effect on me, on my… prospect for living, and being.” The spirit moved, uncoiling his arms and gently caressed the vibrating heart at its chest. “It’s a topic we try not to touch on. I tend to stray far away from it all.”

 How easy it touched upon the subject of its demise, as if it was all a matter of inconvenience. Was it meant to comfort him? Lance took a sip. “Juz curious, but… was there plans to… accept and reconcile, or something?” The eyes narrowed at him and the bristling embers constricted into a needle point dot.

 “What are you getting at, now?”

 Lance blew at the steam in his cup. The eyes of the spirit flashed, agitated by something, some unknown insult. “I’m not getting’ why your still ‘round. Aren’t spooks supposed to do’n the, is it the crop circle thing?”

 Lewis cocked a rigid eyebrow. “Cross… over? No. Nope, it’s not a requirement for certain cases.”

 “I have a suspicion that there’s more tu it than—” Without warning, Lewis bolted up from the seat – the flash of movement shocked Lance, in that it was vacuum less and silent. Only the light dousing out, as Lewis’ wide shoulders zipped out the doorway. The embers once swirling his space extinguished altogether, plunging the room into total darkness.

 The catalyst must’ve been the racketing dog yaps, which entered onto the work floor. Soon after there was Vivi, racing over to the middle of the room and dashing her eyes around. Mystery was her guide, leading directly to the side wall where Arthur had remained hunched over. Arthur gave her the barest attention when she reached his side and leaned low. An exchange of words followed. Then, Vivi raised her sight to the office doorway.

 Without a word, Lewis approached the group, arms clasped behind his back. When Lance emerged from his quarters fully and the light ensnared him, Vivi set her eyes upon him, and they became saucers. In retrospect, it did explain some things, though not nearly enough if Lance was honest. Something about all this didn’t settle right, and at the core of this drama was his boy, Arthur. If he couldn’t enlist Vivi’s aid in this, he might have to pursue other drastic means. But it wouldn’t work to be reckless. Being reckless is what nearly got him socked in the face, by something that claimed to be Lewis Pepper.

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 43

First course into second were two meals that had you out of James’ arms, from the much anticipated dancing around your waist his arms remained fixed even to the point he almost drew you onto his lap to eat. For the third course it was the dessert course where before you could turn your head James was on his feet and up he helped you for the walk over to the table tray being rolled out with the larger cake for your table and the important guests with a couple more rolling trays coated in single serving round decorated mini cakes everyone else was going to get to be served next. Right behind you he strolled with hand on your waist and feet careful to not step on your dress up to the cake where behind your back he widened your smile with his arm that slid across your stomach to hold you to his chest. Cheers and pictures captured the slicing of the cake and the joint serving of bites off the designated forks and plates of cake that you both snacked on while the cakes were served out to everyone else.

Stolen glances to your parents between the next round of dancing had you pulling away as James took up the chance to join the men in a celebratory cigar break outside. While Eddie joined him, Vic and Dawn led the ladies over to your side in your break at the bar for a refill on your screwdriver. Norma with a hand on your arm to ease herself between the stools there smiled in accepting the pretzels and ginger ale the bartender brought out for her to help her shifting stomach after her last two nights. Dawn asked lowly in your lift of your screwdriver for a sip, “Having a good time?”

You nodded, “Just needed something to drink. I like this syrup, help get that champagne taste out of my mouth.”

Dawn smirked to Dot’s saying, “I think I might talk to Grubbs about getting me another of those cakes tomorrow. Down right addictive.”

You chuckled to yourself and caught sight of Princess Elizabeth’s future fiancé Philip who strolled over to the bar. With an air of a mood where the blonde was used to being able to snap his fingers and get what he wanted he gave his drink order and over the lot of you his eyes skimmed. “Fine way to become a Mrs.”

“Thank you,” you said with a grin unable to think of what else to say in his thanking lift of his glass when it was given to him.

“Bet you’ll be relieved to hand over things and settle down.”

“There would be a line of losers along with you for news on that bet.” You said turning his head to catch your grin that spread in the eye contact the bartender took as a sign to turn and count his bottles to not be seen chuckling.

“From what I see you may have had fun with the run you had heading your comics and-,”

His hand rose to lift his glass for a smug sip after his comment was through but you shut him down, “No one is taking my businesses or achievements away from me. This is a ring not a leash and I doubt a man with such a tiny perspective on what women are supposedly entitled to could understand the fact that my husband is not threatened by marrying a strong successful woman.” His lips parted, “Not every man wants to lock their wife away and take everything but a spatula away from her limiting her to wife maid and mother. And to be honest for a man who may be latching himself onto a future Queen perhaps you haven’t been properly warned to this rude awakening you are in for when she wears the crown not you, with more power that you have no say over.”

“I can’t imagine you know anything about my life or how my relationship with Lizzie will turn out.” He retorted in a growl borderline statement almost more for himself than you.

You smiled wider, “You give away a great deal more than you realize. And when it all comes down to it no matter what agreement you formulate pre crown it’s going to be shattered when the country and people bump you down the list of priorities. And if all it took was one comment to ruffle your feathers over drinks then boy are you in for a body slam when she’s Queen and your role changes to support her, to uphold her legacy and public image. What a lovely wife you’ll make keeping house while she rules a chunk of the world.”

That had him huff and turn to walk off to Princess Margaret’s side where he leaned in to mutter to her only making her laugh which angered him more. The bartender having seen that bent over to hide behind your back to laugh into his arm to muffle the noise through Norma’s asking, “And he’s going to be King?”

“Oh I highly doubt they will let that happen.” You muttered before another sip, “Doesn’t seem to be favorite with the ruling clan.”

The bartender said in his lift up to peer over your shoulder, “Nail on the head Bunny. Better hope for the Poor Princess they can break him down a bit before anything concrete is locked down.” The path of the Princess in question with empty glass in hand had him moving to ready a refill for her and muttered, “Ooh. Incoming.”

With a smile you nodded your head among the other ladies in Princess Elizabeth’s stroll over. Gracefully she settled the glass on the counter trading nods with the bartender then sort of sighed out in a mustering of courage to speak, “This is such a lovely day.”

“Yes it is. I hope your wedding day has such fine weather. Must be hard to find a clear day to pick I hear it rains fairly often.”

“Yes, though there are usually a few windows that are fairly good windows of weather. Early winter most often is quite beautiful. For myself I quite enjoy the notion of a winter wedding for myself and then we could go somewhere warm for the honeymoon. Philip is set to be stationed someplace warm.”

“Well I hope he knows how lucky he truly is to have won your heart.”

That split her grin a bit wider and she asked, “Where are you honeymooning?”

“There’s a smaller cabin on our land we’re going to for a few days. To sort of deflate and hike and fish and be circled by bears and a few moose that stroll by.”

“That sounds rather lovely.” She said and you giggled to yourself.

Dawn said, “It is, weddings, even our elopings can be rather stressful, nice to just be together in the silence. Especially after living in Brooklyn where it never seems to just be quiet.”

The Princess locked her eyes on yours asking, “Do you prefer the city?”

“I miss how easy it is to travel to the library or museums, always been my place to unwind and run off to ignore the world. It is amazing here though. I really love it, our first trip here when we first came back from the war there was so much to learn how the guys take care of the land. Teaching us about the animals and hunting and clearing some trees to prevent fires and such.”

“Oh yes,” she replied, “Balmoral Castle in Scotland is our refuge. We hunt and fish as well and go on ample hikes. The palace can be quite the fish bowl at times, so many people coming and going.”

“Sounds a lot like Brooklyn then,” you said with a grin luring hers wider in accepting her new drink.

“It must be fascinating though, attending school among your peers. I was taught from tutors.”

“Well if you ever want a list of books I’d recommend your dad has my number and address.”

“Thank you,” her eyes shifted to follow yours to her sister and mother who were both looking her way and she gave you a grin and excused herself to go and see what they were speaking about. In her step away Portia smiled and slipped over to join your group to see how you were doing with smiles at your break of eye contact for Norma’s grab of your hand to lay on her stretching baby’s feet. On the ease of your eyes back to Portia yours locked with the blue pair on the blue cloaked woman dancing with her date who gave you a kind smile while the glance lasted.

 *

Warm under the sun James grinned in the first puff of his lit cigar mid chatter of the guys surrounding him. Eddie, not smoking sat sipping on his whiskey with a smile locked at the barely breaking smile on James’ face while his thumb spun the wedding band on his finger side to side with glee at finally being married. The conversation carried on while his head turned to glance inside with eyes narrowing a flinch at what he heard Philip saying to you. One of the soldiers said, “Piece of work that one.”

James looked back at the blonde’s stroll away saying, “No kidding. Lucky he brought an escort.”

Victor said, “Good thing he’s the side piece to the Princess.”

Another solder chuckled, “Not that he’s gonna take that well.”

The one next to him said, “Can’t even keep his eyes on his own date. Tried to slide up to my Kim till the girls glared him off. But I guess once you get up to a certain status who you chose to honor is a small list excluding your wife to be.”

They all smirked as the one beside him said, “Unlike the Baron here. High class Noble.”

James rolled his eyes, “Just words. Fish and hunt and mind the land like everyone else.”

Another said, “Not gonna lie, she’s earned that title. What is a Lady Baron?”

Victor chuckled, “Baroness.”

The soldier stated, “Yes, Baroness Bunny Pear Howlett, Corporal Medic and future Doctor. Not to mention her book,”

Soldier 4 asked, “Does that make her an author? If it’s just pictures?”

“It’d be photographer right?” Another asked.

James, “I would say photographer. She could do well in it if she wanted. Got a good eye.”

King George among them garnered greeting head nods and to the cigarette in his fingertips one of the soldiers brought out his lighter earning a thanks from the King, “Thank you, hope you don’t mind my joining the smoking circle.”

Victor, “Not at all, Your Majesty. More the merrier.”

Through another curiosity bubbling deep chested chortle of a try to cough the King gave out a puff of smoke from his first inhale and looked to Eddie, “You don’t smoke Eddie?”

Eddie shook his head, “No, besides, Dawn’s still got that sensitive smell thing going on since Marigold was born. Can’t even eat heavy handed pepper meals or she’s got to lay down.”

He nodded, “Ah,” and looked to Victor, “Norma, isn’t it? Your lovely wife,”

Victor nodded with a smile, “Yes.”

King George, “Her pregnancy is going well?”

Victor, “Yes, very well. She was worried about it but we’ve been hovering and keeping her calm.”

King George, “Worried about what?”

James said to Victor’s silent moment in search of words, “First time jitters mostly. Even Jaqi’s had a few come up in our talks about families when they came up. Her mom had nursing books around the apartment so she’s had plenty of information on what could go wrong. Norma’s caught some stories about hard labors too, but Doc’ll take good care of her and the baby.” He accented with a pat of his hand on Victor’s back calming his older brother who was reminded of that fact daily.

King George, “Oh yes, labor can be quite troubling for all involved. Even my girls were a bit of an ordeal for my lovely wife.” After another puff of smoke from him and James he added, “I do not doubt the both of your wives will pull well through their births as Eddie’s bride surely has.” His eyes wandered inside to his daughter chatting with the women and he asked, “Have you managed a greeting with my prospective son-in-law yet?”

James, “Not yet, Jaqi has.” He accented with a puff of smoke afterwards to the dissecting once over from the King.

“I take it he was not the most gentlemanly of guests from the drink?”

“One way to put it,” one of the soldiers said.

The King looked to your trio asking, “What is your opinion on him?”

James, “Would you mind my frank answer?”

King George, “I would greatly value your honest opinion.”

James curtly said, “Break him now.” That had the King’s brow rise and he said, “Some men admire strong women, others want one they can own. One day your baby girl is going to have to pick up a crown when she loses you, hopefully well down the line when she’s got some greys of her own. A move I know you know will be excruciating. And that little boy is not going to take it well when he realizes she rules the country and his every move will be to support her in that effort. When his legal rights as a husband over her are null and void. He will not take that well.”

Victor nodded and said, “We can only protect our daughters so much while we are here, the rest is all left to chance by who we let in the door once we’re gone.”

Eddie, “Princess Elizabeth is a sweet girl, a foot below how shy Jaqi was when she was little, and we just don’t want dead beat tethering himself to her where she can’t get out.”

King George nodded, “Thank you for your honesty. I will do my best on that front.”

Eddie joked, “If not we know a guy who’d eat him free of charge.” That had even the King chuckle. The conversation then dipped to the cabin and land which brought out a tangent on get aways in the wild.

 *

“What a beautiful wedding,” the mystery woman said in her approach to Elliot’s side as you took a break to check how he was enjoying the ceremony near to the snack table while others were still dancing.

“Thank you,” you said and asked, “Have you known Bill long, Miss?”

“Asteria,” she replied and she said with the notice of your parents that came closer on the other side of the table to Loki’s move right up behind Elliot. Heimdall freshly back from a check at the BiFrost to shoo away some curious teenagers who were trying to sneak a peek at the long since used portal they had been learning about. “I do apologize for the farce, I simply acquainted myself with Bill not long after you had returned from the war and your pictures were first in the papers. Though we never met in the news clippings in theaters I could sense your familiar aura I had felt once in my youth off of one of your children.”

Elliot spoke, “And just what situation did that meeting pertain to?”

She grinned and replied, “Not a meeting, just a passing in awe. The aura is unmistakable and knowing this is your territory upon honor and that of my sisters I wished to welcome you back.”

“Sisters?” You asked and she drew in a breath to answer.

“We are the Amazons, beloved of Aphrodite who after freeing ourselves from the slavery Hercules enforced upon us to leave the world of Men and forge our own sanctuary of an island. Though not without a price, my sisters fashioned the strongest of our armor and I chose to remain behind to face the armies roused to bring us back and give my sisters a fighting chance.”

“Must be some armor.” You muttered and her smile spread again.

“Your child intervened and turned their focus away from myself and returned to their path again. Even Aphrodite had barely heard whispers of your children herself, and to have been saved by one I wished to thank you myself and share that I have been returning kind acts into this world to protect these people as your children have. I also wished to inform you that I am entirely at your service should you require me.”

To Elliot you looked and asked, “Are Amazons on the list of topics to cover later?”

His eyes narrowed in thought at Heimdall stated, “You are a child of Paradise Island,” which earned an agreeing nod, “Clay infants granted life by those known by the Greeks to be Gods.” He looked to you, “There is a mention in our records of an island you noted upon their birth. Fairly inconsequential for other races. Though notably reluctant to leave their shores.”

Asteria, “I chose to remain behind to repay the debt of my survival and to prevent others from following myself to the shores of Themyscira. Another younger naïve sister of mine seems to have chosen to live here as well after her arrival in this world during the First World War to battle with Ares. Perhaps when she comes to her senses and understands who is here keeping us safe now that the other Gods have abandoned this coil.”

“If people don’t know about yours then why not go back now?”

“I have accepted my mortality, to return now would defeat the purpose of my life here in the world of Men.”

“Mortality, how long do your people live?”

“I have been on this planet since before the days of the rise of Greece and its fall. There is life in my bones still for quite a while yet. I am quite in awe of all you have achieved in such short time so far.” She said and to your eyes scanning over her face she added, “Perhaps the eye of the storm is not the best location to view the progress the storm brings about.” Bill called out to her and she smiled saying, “I will not impose upon you further, when you need me I am certain you will know how to find me.”

She walked to join her date to begin dancing again with him at his request while Loki stated, “Surprisingly genuine that plea for allegiance.”

You asked Elliot, “What exactly am I supposed to do with that?”

Elliot replied, “Perhaps we might take her at her word. I will consult the others who remained behind to see who might have aided her. Should be a simple task there are only so many possible of our blood who could have been outside of our territories to have intervened with any armies as she had stated.”

Heimdall spoke, “Now that she has made her presence known to you I will keep her actions noted.”

“If she’s been here this long she may be harmless in the scheme of things. Even if she did sort of sneak in to say it.”

Elliot looked to your father as he said, “She will not harm you or your rule. Once we return to Hel we will speak to their Aphrodite.”

“So the Greek Gods are real?”

Elliot shrugged, “Not in so many words. Belief based beings who dwindled in power long ago. They are of very little trouble to us now.”

Loki drew your eye, “I do believe you should be dancing. This is your day.”

“I do believe you are right Prince Loki. Now, I have to go steal my husband from a King.” The Prince smirked on your turn away in saying to Elliot, “I will let you steal more of the sweets and pretend I didn’t see.”

Elliot chuckled and returned to eyeing the treat table he had hoped to fill another plate from before taking Edie up on her offer of a couple dances later after she had finished her own spare treats. The two having hit it off as friends bonding over sharing stories and their affection for you.

Outside however a simple stroll up to the group was made and a hand on James’ back had his grin double at the turn of his head and Victor chuckled taking hold of his cigar. Over your head James’ arm eased to rest around your back at the accepted tug away from his group for the adored chance to show you off around the dance floor again. Tenderly his lips pressed to your temple in a duck under the rim of your hat to hum, “I apologize for neglecting you my Darling.”

With a finger hold on the front fold in his jacket you replied in the doorway, “You can go back to your cigar after a couple dances.”

Once his eyes locked with yours in a backwards tilt of your head he smirked to rumble, “I’d never touch a cigar again if I get to keep you in my arms.” His words melting into your lips in a lean in to steal a loving kiss his fingers framed your chin and cheek to slip free and claim your hand to guide you in front of him to let you lead the way between couples onto the dance floor. The moment possible again his hands eased yours around his neck and palm to bring you as close to his chest as possible, with a loving smile locked in place and seeping wider the longer he could hold you. The dancing lingered until you paused again to rest and ended up settled on top of his lap back in his seat for a few more snacks and a top up on your drink. Though that ended when Eddie and Erik got their chance to claim their own dances.

Some more pictures came with the friendly goodbyes to the sun setting the Nobles were the first to head out for their flight back to their waiting home in Ottowa the Prime Minister’s group tagged along for the free ride. Truman’s group was next with scattered guests who had long drives readied to leave lined up with the acceptable end of the bouquet toss. One toss and the giddy Bride-to-be waved it around as the men lined up to light the way with sparklers for the path to your waiting car. Inside however to the settling of both your hats on your lap your eyes locked with your parents’ and they nodded to remind you of their agreement to meet you at the cabin.

Eddie and Victor mastered the clean up while Dawn and Norma went home in a Brock carload to the house to get some rest and put the babies to bed. The camera crew and photographers loaded up and gave word they would send copies of the ceremony and pictures once they could be copied and printed. The guests gladly were off sharing their favorite moments of the ceremony by the time you had reached the drive to the house. Already you had handed over the veil that Mama Brock had taken to keep it safe for the next Bride who would need it to Father Thomas’ stolen few private words of well wishes for the both of you on your way to the honeymoon.

“You were brilliant you know.” You said to James who stole a smiling look your way.

“I did very little past repeating the words and comments on what to do and where to go. You are the brilliant one all our guests wanted a break with you for chats. Master hostess.”

“Weddings aren’t truly a hostess situation. If it was I’d have thrown out that blonde nimrod of a future Prince.”

“Oh I heard him, if he hadn’t shut up when he did I’d have given Squishy a signal to eat him.”

“You heard?” you asked looking at him.

“Of course I heard. Told King George they should break him now. Before he can put some damage on Princess Elizabeth.” His hand moved from the shifter to your hand in an eye locking promise of, “I am never going to take what is yours from you. Whatever you build I will do all I can to legally hoard it until we can transfer it to your name fully.”

“We are going to have to head to the bank when we get back.”

“I’ll put my name on the accounts but I’ve talked to them the other day to ready the balance consent cards that I can fill out for you to keep for big purchases so stores don’t look at you sideways if you’re out with the girls without me.”

“You really trust me with that much cash? I might start buying things left and right. Leave us broke.” In a playful raised brow glance he made you giggle at your own teasing statement and he chuckled shifting his arm to draw you a bit closer to his side so he could kiss your temple. A bit sideways you shifted to keep your skirt from blocking the shifter and yourself against his side.

“Between the two of us we will have funds for centuries with how little we spend.”

“Guess we’ll fit the penny pinching Baron stereotype then.” He chuckled again to the smooth of your fingers across the back of his hand resting against your belly. After a brief pause you said, “I’m glad my parents could come.”

“So am I. I can see where you get your looks and that adorable hint of an Irish accent of yours.”

Softly you chuckled and asked, “Would you have wanted your parents there?”

“Oh no. Would have been nothing but complaints and questions as to why your dress wasn’t bouncier.”

“Bouncier?” You asked peering up at him.

“The hoop skirt frames were mandatory at the time. To not wear them about would set off a scandal.”

“I suppose the grey corset would have bothered her too?”

“Oh no. Colored outer corseted tops were quite fashionable for a time. Could have been taken as a gown from a relative. And hats were quite respectable as well.”

Through the dark while the conversation meandered the cabin came into view and once parked he lovingly helped you out and once his hat was added again he shrugged out of his jacket to the mild chill in the air and walked you to the door that he opened and showed you in through the dark. A fire was easily built to light the room and a few of the candles around the place. The knock on the door turned you and James gladly opened it to let your parents inside to start the conversation you greatly needed. Warm hugs however came first before the nestling into couches for ample questions on random things that you had ached to have parental input. Skipping the painful question as to how he had died and left you behind. The requested dance came to the start of a radio James had found in the coat closet and you split in pairs for each parent for a few tear stirring dances that brought your father to draw you into his chest for another tight hug.

“We should let you both enjoy the rest of the night.” That had you inch back in the hug enabling him in your peer up at him to cradle your cheeks with thumbs to settle ready to wipe away any tear that would dare fall to the twitch of your lower lip. “I love you so much, My Queen of the Cosmos. And I’m always here when you need me, no more barriers you are growing stronger by the day and I couldn’t be prouder to have been granted the honor of protecting you and claim to be yours.” To the lift of your hand to touch the necklace he said, “Keep it, when you need me press it in your fist and say my name, shout or a whisper I will answer. I’m right with you, always.” You nodded in the settle of his hands onto the tops of your shoulders. “I have to return with Sarah by midnight.”

“That some Cinderella clause for her trip here?” You asked post calming sniffle.

He smiled wider and answered, “No. There is a troubling herd of three headed goats who meander into our gardens if the house appears empty.”

That had you smile and nod then turn to see your mom’s hand lower from a kind pat on James’ cheek he smiled through. She turned at the end of her comments to him and hurried to claim her own tight hug you clenched your eyes through. “I love you my Precious Bunny. Don’t you worry about anyone else. I know my son has hurt you, but you need to let go of his words. I am so sorry I was too broken to stand up for you and give you a home to depend upon when I got ill.” She hugged you tighter to the drop of a tear down your cheek. “I know you were scared and he left you alone, I am so sorry I failed you. I hoped he would know you were a piece of me no matter what he felt about his father. I thought I raised him better than to abandon a child.”

“Is he in Hel too?” You asked in her pull back and they both shook their heads.

Your father replied, “No. We are unable to find his essence or Bucky’s in any of the various dimensions mortal souls descend too or we would have drug Steve here as well.”

James asked, “So, they’re not dead then?”

Your mother, “We aren’t certain.”

Your father, “There are beings or times an essence can become trapped or sent elsewhere, perhaps their ties to you had them taken. Some of our brothers are off in search of any whisper for where they might be.”

James, “Well when they find him I owe him a blow to the jaw.”

Your father chuckled and said in his move to the door he opened revealing the silvery blue and green mist outside the door they both passed through saying, “We will keep searching, do not let this trouble you. Enjoy your retreat.” Once past into the mist it faded into the night and James eased his arm around your back in the closing of the door.

Up around his neck when you turned into his chest your hands moved for the beginning of a seemingly endless kiss. Into the back of his hair your fingers stretched as an answer to his melt against you to the symphony of the crackle of flames, the forest around you and the whisper of the radio still fading in and out to the shift of show times.

The gentle blind tug on his jacket towards the bedroom granted you a free breath of air in his murmur, “I can hold you tonight, if you want.”

With a smile you said, “Either way I need out of this corset.”

His eyes dipped and lips parted, “Ah,” in the realization, “I apologize, completely slipped my mind. Come here Darling.” He said in a turn to guide you to the bedroom that he paused to light the fire from the candle he brought with him that he settled upon the mantle and turned back to you.

Around your back he moved and with a gentle press of his lips to your shoulder. His fingers eased down the laces on the corset to find the hidden knot he loosened to relax the tension in the garment that in a reach around your chest his fingers guided the hooks apart until he could set it aside and turn his focus to the laces down the back of your dress. In the lower of the gown to your feet he guided your hand to his shoulder for your step out so he could lift up and carry the gown he laid across the armchair along the wall he left the corset underneath to keep from snagging the sheer material with the broach.

Your hands on his back widened his smile and turned his head with his body to follow. Out of his sash he dipped and stood in a loving stare to your focus shifting to the vest buttons next. His jacket out in the living room would later be added to the pile but for now all he did was remove his cuff links he tucked into is vest pocket in his shrug out of it. A tug of his shirt from his waistband came in his eyes sink over your half shadowed self in a strapless slip and stockings ended in shoes he couldn’t wait to take off of you to rub your legs and feet in the beginning of a full body massage to relieve any sort of tension from the big day. And the moment he was shirtless you giggled in his arms that looped around you to lift you off the ground to carry you to bed. “Off your feet Darling.”

“Your shirt,” you giggled out watching it slide off the chair onto the floor.

“It will wash.” He said and settled you down on the cool comforter against the pillows. With a quick peck on your lips he drew back with hand smoothing over your hip to your thigh where he found the straps for your garter belt he undid. Sideways he twisted to unbuckle your heels he dropped behind him to the floor to grant him ease in removing each stocking that was followed by the garter belt you wiggled free he smiled in adding to the pile on the foot of the bed.

To the side he turned to ease off his boots that once on the ground he turned from to sit cross legged to cradle your foot saying, “You’ve had a long day. Just relax.” By the time he had gotten to the other foot you had removed the pins and braids from your hair to settle with the pendant on the nightstand to relax back against the pillows. Each smooth of his hand lulled you to where your eyes drooped and in the back rub with you upright seated with him behind you his smile spread at the melt of your body into his chest. Into the pillows he settled you so he could blow out the candles. To the sight of you he returned with your bags from the trunk of the car and his jacket he added with his shirt from the floor to the pile of clothes soon joined by his pants he changed out of and into his pajama pants. Right beside you under the covers he nestled in for a long night’s sleep.

Pt 44

[viandclintbarton-supremacy]

Imagine being from remnant and showing Team Flash you power and weapon

(You are Ruby and Yang's older sibling, Your weapon and semblance is the same as ruby's but your scythe turns into a machine gun)

After the fall of beacon you were running through the school as it was burning, you saw ruby and yang get air lifted out and tried to find any survivors until you accidently ran through a portal thing and ended on earth one and landing right in front of Barry allen and Nora Allen who were shocked to find you. You were confused by your surroundings and didn't know where you were

After they took you back to star labs and ran tests on you but cisco kept looking at your weapon in its gun form

Cisco: "Do Kids normally carry guns around from wherever your from," You gave a slight offended look

Y/N: "One I'm a 18, two i'm from remnant and three no only professional huntsmen and huntresses or those training be carry thier weapons" Cisco blinked and looked at the rest od the team giving them a really look

Cisco: "Great, we picked up a child solder" he said in a sarcastic way

Barry: "What is a huntsmen?" Barry said making everyone look at you woth curiosity especially cisco and nora. You scratch your head thinking how to explain it

Y/N: "Well they are defenders in a way, we protect the people of remnant from crime and thiese creatures called grimm who are attracted to negative emotion"

Barry nodded with a little smile thinking of how similar these huntsmen are too heroes

Nora was standing next to you fascinated by meeting someone from another realm. (I don't know what to call it) Iris and joe found it strange that thier were people in training for this and this is an a actual career choice

And Harrison was also fascinated and started to look you up and down

Cisco looked at caitlin and both were amused and intrested more. They both looked at you then to each other then the drawing board then at each other again and ran to board and wrote what you said down

Caitlin: "So is it like one big network? Like your an army, an organisation or something" she said questioning you, you scratch your ear thinking

Y/N: "Not really, there is the army from atlas but its not made from huntmens just soldiers, We take contracts that have been reporteded by civilians and then we do our job. And we don't really and we don't really have anything like an organisation. There is 4 academys, one for each kingdom" Cisco, barry and nora "ooed" in excitement as caitlin wrote down the details

Nora: "So kingdoms as in Kings and queens?" nora leaned on your shoulders clearly interested

Y/N: "Thier used to be centuries ago but thier was a war between all four kingdoms until it ended on a island called vytal, the King of vale won the war so to speak but all 4 leaders decided to abolish being kings or queens which led to peace and the academys being made"

Nora: "Schway" you looked at nora confused but everyone kept looking at you

Cisco: "What are these academys called" Cisco said like a child as he wrote down the information quickly as he can

Y/N: "Well you have Shade academy from Vacuo, Then Haven academy from Mistral, then there is Atlas academy in Atlas and finally you have Beacon academy in Vale, which is my academy"

Cisco smiled in excitement as he wrote all of this down as caitlin studied them.

Barry was interested in this earth he was hearing about and wanted to learn more.

Wells was thinking, trying to find out if he had heard of these places before

Nora was amazed to hear about a place for people to protect the public

Joe and iris couldn't help but think of the dangers the children of these academys could get into

Caitlin turned to you

Caitlin: "So these academys, how do they help you? Is it all combat training" You smiled at her feeling that you can trust these guys

Y/N: "There is a lit of combat training but you also learn about history and take test and stuff. Ever since i started at the academy i learned how to use my weapon and semblance much better in combat" everyone frowned at you

Harrison: "What did you mean semblance?" You frowned

Y/N: "you don't know what a semblance is most of remnant have it?" they all shook their heads "Um well, i guess.......its like a super power"

Cisco stopped writing and turned to you gasping, while everyone was surprised

Cisco "You have powers!?"

Y/N: "Yep" you said non chantley

Nora appreard infront of you

Nora: "Show us please please please" barry and cisco both came up next to her saying please too

You looked around iris and joe shrugged basically saying you have no choice, while caitlin gave a begging look

Harrison was closer to you and was still looking you up and down

You looked at them sheepishly

Y/N: "Is there a field where i can show you guys?"

A Field nearby

Y/N: "Oof its cold" you were standing on a field while the rest of the guys were watching

Cisco: "Come on red lets go, i wanna experiment the hell out if you" you looked at him wide eyed

Iris jabbed cisco's arm which he held in pain

Barry: "Don't mind him, his crazy but not a crazy enough to remove something of yours" You gave a nervous smile.

You looked to the field and show a medium rock and you decided you would run to it and back again. you jumped up and down warming up, you glanced at nora who gave you a thumbs up

You breathed in and out

"WHOOSH"

The whole in shock you just disappeared into red roses

Joe: "H-he turned into flowers" harrison sighed

Nora: "im confused"

Harrison: "Follow the trail" everyone did as hr said and at the end was you waving back

Barry: "W-wait did he just-"

"WHOOSH"

he was cut by rose petals flying infront of him as you was now back where you were before you ran

Y/N: "Thats my semblance, Speed"

Iris, joe and caitlin were wide eyed

Wells was slightly smiling with a face that said of course you power is speed

Cisco stared to laugh happily

While Nora and Barry somewhat smiling but with their jaws dropped

Barry: "I think we are gonna got along just fine" you frowned but then a flash of electricity burst from barry as he ran fast copying your route and stopped infront of you smirking

You were wide eyed and gobsmacked

Y/N: "y-yyou-"

Nora: "HEY" you glanced at nora and she then did the same as Barry, she ran to the rock and then back infront of you

"We can run fast too"

Y/N: "THATS SO COOL, YOU GUYS ARE LIKE ME BUT WITH ELECTRIC COMING OUT OF YOU" You said like a little kid getting a chrismas gift

Barry: "What about you, you leave rose petals. THATS AWESOME" Barry laughed heartly as nora bent down and pickes up a bunch and threw em in the air. You laughed at her action but still you couldn't believe your luck. You bump into two people who can run faster then you

Harrison: "So another speedster but leaves rose's and looks way more elegant at running then you two do" he said glancing at the two infront of yoh who rolled thier eyes in return

Y/N: "I guess i am speedstar in way but my speed helps me get in close and personal with chop up some grimm" you said proudly

Joe: "Chop? What you have a sword now?" he said in disbelief

You frowned, no my sycthe. Oh i didnt show them it

Y/N: "OH sorry, you only saw it in gun form" you reached for your weapon on your lower back"

Barry: "Gun form?"

You puller the latch and it transformed into its sycthe mode

Barry/Nora: "HOLY SHIT"

Cisco: "OH MY GOD ITS BEAUTIFUL" cisco looks at you like a crazied fanboy

Joe/iris: "I need a drink"

Harrison and caitlin were just wide eyed

Nora: "HOW CAN YOU HOLD THAT THING UP" (wink wink)

Y/N: "This is called blooming rose and I designed her to not be too heavy for me" You could then felt cisco breathing next to you

Cisco: "Y-you made her" You smiled and nodded, cisco threw his arm around your shoulder "Y/N i think this is a beginning to a beautiful friendship" you smiled and saw nora looking at blooming rose

You laughed and smiled and handed it to her, she smiled excitedly

Nora then tried hold the weapon up but started to lose balances and tried to lift it to her chest but then started to slowly fall backs

Nora: "aw crap" the weight was too much

"CRASH"

Y/N: "ouch"

[brandyllyn]

In our own image... (16)

Chapter 16

(Poe Dameron x OFC)

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 2000. Read it on AO3.

Rating: M (PG). vague sexual content.

Everything was different and yet nothing was.

Rey was up in her hammock as usual, floating three ball-bearings in the air above her head. Kina had taken away the larger hunks of metal the woman had been using after she got distracted and dented the droid under her with them when her concentration failed.

Kina had her own project, identifying the pieces of droid parts that Chewbacca had pulled from the Falcon. At some point they had been through Havan’s workshop - she knew that much. Not all droids could be identified by their maker but he was the only one who did soldering in that particular way. His own signature as it were.

And K-0 was…. somewhere. She wasn’t exactly sure. They’d vanished some time ago actually.

''Will you say goodbye?"

Kina dropped the piece she was holding, cursing to herself. She turned back to find Rey on the ground, standing not too far away.

"Before you go, will you say goodbye?" The woman asked again.

Kina whistled and then realized there was no one there to translate. She should really finish that arm-cuff translation module someday. She made a mental note to talk to C3PO about it. But right now she reached for the data pad, tapping out a message and holding it out to Rey.

-What makes you think I’m leaving?-

Rey sighed, handing it back. "Just a feeling."

Kina could see the sadness in the other woman’s eyes and knew it was reflected in her own. She held her arms out, pulling Rey into a hug. The woman returned it, holding her tightly and pressing her face to Kina’s shoulder.

-If or when I decide to go I promise I will say goodbye.-

Rey nodded, blinking a few times before she dropped the ball bearings into Kina’s hand. "I’ll see you for dinner?"

Kina nodded and watched the woman leave, her brows furrowed. Had her unhappiness really been that obvious? She’d come to Ajan Kloss because… well because it seemed like the logical next step. She needed to do something to fight against the people who had destroyed her home planet. And the way people talked about the Resistance, about their ideals… it had seemed like she might be able to do some good.

At first it seemed wonderful. She had met so many amazing people. Finn and Chewie and Rose and Karé and Rey. Her friend Rey. The best one she had had in a while. And of course there was Poe. Her Poe, even if it was looking more and more likely that he was only hers for a moment.

But she had also found more of the same. More people willing to ignore what was right in front of their faces because it was inconvenient. She wasn’t trying to start a revolution - just trying to get people to see. See that there was something going on with droids that was new and different. That something had been achieved far beyond basic programming.

No one wanted to look.

She delved into the issue the same way she would a droid’s circuitry. Prying it carefully apart and setting the components aside into carefully curated piles. People worried about their droids. They cared for them. They talked to them and asked their opinions. Somewhere they knew that there was consciousness there. And yet even people who abhorred slavery allowed their droids to call them 'Master'. People who took time to physically pet their droids had no compunction sending them into situations where they would be destroyed.

It didn’t make sense to her. And she just couldn’t see how anyone could reconcile two diametrically opposed ideals like that. But no one would listen to her when she asked. It was always taken as a given. If she pushed the issue people invariably became petulant or aggressive - claiming that she wanted to be some kind of liberator.

She did. But she was aware enough to know that day was a long time coming. In the meantime she’d settle for people just thinking about the issue rather than ignoring it. Instead of pushing it to another day.

Sighing she left the problem disassembled, placing it into a box in her mind she could come back to later. She heard footsteps approaching and turned on her stool, assuming it was someone who needed a repair and pasting a smile on her face. She saw BB-8 first, her smile turning to fondness. Poe was right behind.

"What brings you here today?" She asked, BB-8 translating without being asked.

"K-0 came and found me," Poe replied, stepping to the side to show the little droid cocking their receptor array at her. "I’m a little unclear what for though. Something about you getting eaten? He seemed upset." Poe paused. "Also cursing up a blue streak, what’s with that?"

"Yeah," Kina sighed, "they do that. K-0? What is it?"

"Kina sad. Kina like eat." K-0 said, darting between the two of them.

"Are you sad?" Poe asked, eyebrow raised in question.

Kina sighed, "Yes. No. Maybe a little."

"Okay, so we’re one for two," Poe said, ticking off one finger. When she laughed he grinned. "And do you like to eat?"

"I guess?" She replied, looking down at K-0.

"Kina like eat. Poe eat Kina," the droid said solemnly.

Kine blushed, biting her lip and looking away from Poe as they both realized what the droid meant. "Oh," Poe cleared his throat. "Oh. I get it."

"Yeah," Kina cleared her throat. "Yeah."

Silence stretched between them before Poe asked, as calmly as she’d ever heard him, "Do you want me to eat you?"

Kina spluttered, turning to look at him and seeing the laughter in his eyes. She frowned, drawing her eyebrows together in her gravest and most serious expression. "I mean, eat is such a strong-"

She didn’t finish. He scooped her into his arms and his mouth was on hers and Chasī how she had missed this. Missed his laughter and his touch. Missed when things were just easy with each other.

"Bad man eat Kina," K-0 said again.

Poe gave them a disgruntled look. "I thought I was Poe now?"

If K-0 could shrug she would have described the movement the droid made as one. "Do better. Be Poe."

"Is your droid critiquing my kissing skills?" Poe asked her incredulously.

"In fairness I think they’re being more overall," she gestured with one hand, "critical, not just your kissing."

Poe thought about that for a moment. "I don’t think that’s better."

Kina smiled, kissing the tip of his nose before turning back to her workbench. "Thank you for coming by, I need to get this stuff ready for Chewie."

"Can I help?" Poe’s shoulder was almost touching hers.

"I don’t think-" she started to say and felt him pull away. Saw the shadow that fell over his face. "Don’t look at me like that," she sighed.

"Like what?"

"Like … that."

Poe rolled his eyes. "I don’t know what look you’re talking about."

"Yes you do."

"No. I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?" he snapped.

"You don’t need to talk to me like that," she snapped back - her whistle cracking in the air.

They stared at each other, jaws clenched before Kina felt her shoulder slump. "Chasī when did we start fighting over stupid things?"

Poe sighed, "I don’t know."

"We’re not very good at pretending are we?" She asked, turning to perch on the edge of the workbench.

Poe’s eyebrows drew together, "What do you mean?"

"Back when," she gestured, "you know. You said we should move past it all and go straight to making up. But I don’t think it’s working."

He leaned back against the table next to her. "Yeah. You’re right. It’s not."

Kina stared at the floor, trying to sort through her thoughts. Finally she said, "I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t take me seriously."

She saw his mouth open from the corner of her eye, then heard it snap closed. After a minute he said, "It’s not that I don’t take you seriously, it’s just that… I have to focus on this. This Resistance is everything to me."

Nodding, Kina moved her hand to rest over his on the table. They sat there in silence.

"Is this-?" he started to say but Kina cut him off.

"Why don’t we get away? Right now. Just for the afternoon."

Poe turned to her, one eyebrow raised. "Where? I don’t think we’d both fit in my X-Wing…"

Chasī she loved his smile, the boyish look he had about him when he was making a joke. "Let’s go back to the pool. It was… that was such a good day."

"It was," he said, staring at their hands. "Yeah, I think… I think I could do that."

"Just me and you," she stated firmly.

He grinned, "I wasn’t planning on inviting anyone else."

Smiling she shook her head. "I mean, really just me and you."

Poe looked at her for a moment before his gaze dropped to the droids. "You mean leave the kids behind?" She nodded and he frowned. "How will we be able to talk?"

"Is there something we need to talk about?" She asked. It was mostly rhetorical. They both knew they had a thousand things they needed to talk about. As much as they both knew no amount of talk was going to change anything either.

"Okay," he finally said. "Give me ten minutes?"

She nodded. When he left she squatted down to talk to K-0 who became quite creative with their language when they realized that 'alone' really did mean alone. By the time Poe returned the droid had hidden themself away and Kina was waiting for him.

"Ready?" He asked, bag slung over his shoulder as he held out his hand.

She took it, giving BB-8 a fond smile as the droid watched them leave.

The path to the pool was familiar, although not really a path at all. They walked silently, hand in hand. Poe occasionally stopping to help her cross some of the more difficult terrain. She didn’t need it, but recognized the inherent sweetness of the gesture regardless. A few times she caught him looking at her, a question in his eyes but he never asked it.

By mutual understanding neither of them talked. They touched each other when they needed to gain the other’s attention. Pointing or making hand gestures when absolutely necessary. But mostly they were just… quiet.

Alone together for the first time.

The pool gleamed like a gem in the hillside, the small waterfall that fed it the only sound she could hear. This time, they undressed each other, fingers working on the other’s clothes - clumsily undoing buttons and zippers until they were both bare to the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. He held her, dipping his head down to kiss her. Her hands clenched into his hair, pressing her body to his for a moment before she led him into the water.

They drifted together for some time. Floating and touching and kissing. Neither of them said a word. The only sounds the movement of water and their occasional laughter. There were no words when he urged her from the water either. Rising over her like a sun bronzed god, cold where the water dripped off of him yet oh so warm where his skin touched hers.

When he moved inside of her she shut her eyes. Couldn’t watch while he took her apart piece by piece. He pressed his face to her neck and they moved with each other until there was no end or beginning from her body to his. Just skin and passion and a deep ever-present ache that even their release couldn’t quite untangle.

They didn’t move afterwards, clutching each other as though touch was the only thing keeping them grounded. He gently kissed the corner of her eye and she felt him hesitate, knew he could taste the tears there. But he didn’t say anything. Just pulled her closer to him and pressed his forehead to hers.

They didn’t need words to know this was goodbye.

=

Chpt 17

[genuflectx]

Robot Butler/Reader CH 1

Ch 1 Length: 4,748 words

Full Story Length: 8,029 words

Main Kinks: Robots, risk of being seen/heard, public sex, creampie, fingering,

Other Warnings: Mentions of university, arguing with parents, former sex work,

1/30/2020: REPOST

(all images in aesthetic board are labeled for reuse with modification or are mine)

You took a bite of your chicken Marsala and cringed. It had been your mother's turn to make dinner, but she had never been a five star chef. You supposed she made up for that in her extensive mechanical skill sets. Where mother couldn't sauté, she could solder; where she couldn't bake, she could debug. And that was all well and good, but it did your family no favors at meal time, especially as you nearly choked. That was why, she declared, she and your father were going to be hiring someone else to do the cooking.

“You mean like... a personal chef?” asked your younger sister Lilly, on the brink of exploding with glee.

Mom smirked and tried to withhold her excitement. “A little more than that.”

“She means a new robot. That's what she means,” came your smug father.

Embarrassed, your mom's face reddened. Because she worked in a field that repaired damaged bots, she was greatly fond of them. Dad always teased her about her affinity with machines. Your three-story house already had two non-sentient cleaning bots, which sucked up dirt and debris on the floor. Mom had even named them: Debra and Deloris, the dust bunnies.

Your sibling was vibrating in her chair, eyes sparkling and grin ear-to-ear. It was obvious how she felt, but you were unsure. You were a college student, and felt that money was already spread far too thin to be hiring house staff willy-nilly, let alone one that needed a battery charge. The fact that your sister was to graduate high school in two years, before also heading to university, didn't help either.

You prudently let the fork rest, making no noise. “Can we afford a robot?”

At this, mom sat back and rose a brow. She wriggled a bit, as if smoothing a napkin in her lap. “Well. That's not the only announcement I have to make,” she glanced around the table, upping suspense. “I got a raise! An extra dollar an hour!” Then she added quickly, in a sing-song voice. “Plus he's discount, 'cause he's refurbished.”

“That's wonderful mom! But- he?” you squinted.

Lilly clapped softly. “A sentient robot!”

Through a full mouth, your dad nodded with a mumbled. “Eeeyup!”

The majority of household robots were considered non-thinkers, unable to form original thoughts or have emotions more complex than a slug. They were the robots in your phones, your appliances, the robots that could generate artwork or manufacturer small objects. You and Lilly had only interacted with free, complex-thought-driven robots a handful of times.

Sentient bots were more for the extremely rich, as typically only the rich could afford to hire and maintain them. They were stronger, more humanoid, and sometimes nearly indistinguishable from people. You loved bots, but you had to admit it. The idea of having a thinking one in your home frightened you just a little.

When time came for him to move in, you'd still been on the fence. You'd been expecting a thin, sharp-edged thing with a long, snooty face and cutting eyes. Instead, your mom led in a robot totally the opposite of the image of a butler.

He followed after her clumsily, turning sideways and ducking inside, and you could not help but see him as a sturdy Clydesdale trying to be somewhere he should not. He was in no way the delicate models designed to take up as little space as possible. Perhaps that is why your parents wanted to give him a chance, as who in their right mind would hire such a hulking thing to be their quiet, orderly butler? You found yourself blatantly staring.

You didn't think you'd ever seen a humanoid robot so big before. You wondered if his previous function had been in construction, or something equally as hefty. Everything about him was built for strength; with strong legs to move and strong arms to grasp.

He was tall and rotund. His shoulders were wide, not built for shimmying into the small door frames of your house. The arms were hard and stiff, perfect for lifting. Hands smooth and soft, square and flat, jointed together by middle mechanisms hidden in soft, flexible silicon. And his legs were thick and round, with built in shoes for feet.

The face was broad, with a strong brow line, and cheeks highlighted with sliced matte, the colors neon pink, yellow, green, and blue. There was no nose, ears, or lips. Instead there were five vertical slits in place of a mouth, where the speaker was located under the plates of his face. His eyes were big and just as neon as his cheeks, black pupils constantly dilated. Unlike the humanoid bots made now, he did not have a pseudo-skin scalp, and thus would need to wear wigs were he to want hair. Modernly, he was hairless, save for long, fake eyelashes. He was certainly a few years behind, as far as facial features went.

“And this is [Y/N], my apparently very quiet offspring. Can you say hi, [Y/N]?” Laughed your mom with good humor.

Lilly elbowed you in the side to grab your attention and you grunted, glaring at her. She smiled innocently as you craned your neck to answer.

“...Hi. Your name is?”

The bulky robot blinked his lavish eyelashes down at the two of you. “Designation: Ezra. I am enchanted.”

“Howdy enchanted, I'm Lilly! So, how much is mom paying you?”

Glare number two was shot her way, this time via your mom. Before she could scold her, your dad popped out of his study.

“Whoooops, forgot the robot was starting today. I wondered what all that hubbub was!”

You were increasingly embarrassed to be standing among these people who were, apparently, your family. As you and your parents showed Ezra around the house (Lilly tailing behind), you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

Ezra wore a freshly ironed dark gray suit, with white underneath and a black tie. It was tailored perfectly, but looked humorous covering his wide shoulders. He was not a bot meant to wear clothes, but this get up was likely more appropriate for his new occupation. Nervous eyes snapped up when you realized you'd been checking out his butt.

He had his own room, which had previously been used for excessive storage. Now it was a carpeted resting room for him to recharge and enjoy his free time. It had a small book self, a comfortable loveseat, and a small television hooked into the wall. In one corner, near the loveseat, was an upright charging station with several thick, neatly organized chords. Sparse, but cozy.

He hadn't brought much to unpack; just a few books, a suitcase of professional clothing, and a small box full of extra parts for repairs, if job injury occurred.

Everyone left him to unpack in peace, but you were curious. You knocked at the door frame. “Knock knock! Just me, the 'very quiet offspring,'” you laughed.

Ezra's movements were jerky as he froze in the midst of setting down a book upon the self. “Yes? What may I help you with?”

You leaned against the frame, arms crossed and lips pursed. “Just wanted to say... welcome to the family, Ezra.”

He would smile if he had the means. “Thank you, I appreciate the warmth.”

After a moment of hesitation and a twirl of your hair, you shifted weight and went on. “I was wondering... mom said you were refurbished, right?”

He was keeping steady eye contact, hand still frozen inches from the bookshelf. “Yes, that's correct.”

“What did you used to be? You look like construction, or maybe someone who moves boxes,” you mused, head cocked and lips pursed.

Ezra finally set the book down and turned his body fully towards you. He was surprised by the question. His bright, ringed eyes stared forward, unblinking. “...Your mother hasn't told you?”

You shook your head.

Immediately, like ripping off a band-aid, he replied. “I was a sex worker.”

You stared, blank. He stared, blank. Really, it was terribly awkward. You felt blood rise to your skin and heat radiate from it in turn. A slight sense of panic set in.

“Oh. Okay. Well... goodnight!”

You shut his door and rushed, as quietly as possible, to your own room. You didn't even know why you felt so embarrassed, but you did. As you leaned back against your door, you realized that you'd perhaps been rude to pry. No need to drag up the past if he wanted to avoid it- not that he gave any indication one way or the other.

On the other hand... were you overreacting? It was just one little question, and he hadn't seemed bothered. Maybe you were just embarrassed about it because now you were thinking about him bending someone over and- you slumped to the floor. Holy shit. You just met him a few hours ago! Weren't you supposed to be nervous around sentient robots? But how could you be with those curves, and those eyelashes, and all those bright colors and, you sighed.

Clammy hands drug down your damp face. Deciding you needed to get your mind off of things, you settled in bed and pushed the thoughts away with a cute movie about dogs. After, you went promptly to sleep.

The next day Ezra got to work. Your parents left him a list of things to do, but told him not to fret about finishing them all since it was his first day. And, with Lilly locked in her room with her video games, you were the one who had to keep the robot in line. For example, if he needed to find a specific soap, or if he needed to know where certain dishes went, you were there to inform him. Luckily since it was summer, you or Lilly would always be around to help him adjust.

You idly watched some streaming while he tidied the living room around you. He was interesting. Very quiet; Ezra tended to do his work silently. He dusted the top of a high shelf with ease, not even needing to stand on tippy-toes to reach. You watched from the corner of your eye, secretly admiring the dip in his back and his tall stature.

He was the thickest sex bot you'd ever seen. As the thought unwillingly slipped into mind, you snapped your eyes back to the tablet screen in bashfulness. It was wrong of you to feel so attracted to someone who was obviously finished with that line of work. No doubt, he was made this way on purpose. Every straight edge, every curve, every flashy color had to be decided upon by a human. So perhaps even if you did feel some guilt, it was only natural to be at least a little attracted to him. It meant the designers did their job right.

Suddenly his pink-tinged frame was in front of you, and you jumped.

“I've finished the dusting. What's next on the list?”

You squinted at the paper in hand. “Mmm. Laundry. Know where the washer is?”

He nodded, and left the room without another word. After a few moments, he came tromping back up to you, a drooping pile of clothes in hand.

“Are these in need of washing?”

That was the pile of dirty clothes you'd had in a corner of your bedroom. A piece loosened as he adjusted, falling to the floor with a gentle whoosh. He squatted to pick it back up, and you blushed when you realized it was panties. You tried not to look embarrassed.

“Oh, yeah... Those are dirty.”

He noted your stare, and then he was gone again.

Ezra had actually been able to complete all the tasks on the list by the time your parents had come home. He'd even begun cooking a solid hour before hand. They were impressed with his ambition and praised him to high Heaven, giving all smiles.

As everyone doted on his cooking skills, your mom asked. “So, how did you feel your first day went Ezra? Did the kids give you Hell?” she joked, referring to you and your younger sister.

He was sitting at the table, though he didn't eat. Your mom had insisted. “Very well, mam. [Y/N] was a great help to me.”

“Were they now?” your dad's brow rose.

“I just read from the list, that's all,” you shrugged. “If you could call that a help.”

The robot continued. “Yes, and it sped up completion by exactly five minutes. Dinner would have been a little late, otherwise.” Sounding very genuine, he punctuated softly with “Thank you.”

You leaned on your hand and smirked, feeling fuzzy. It made you feel silly to be so happy that he'd openly appreciate you in front of your family, but that was how you felt. It was nice. You twirled the fork in your pasta, then nibbled quietly.

“What about me?” groused Lilly.

Like an expert salesman, he soothed her irritation. “You kept to yourself, which gave me much room to work. Thank you too, Lilly.”

She nodded and continued to eat sloppily, appeased.

After dinner you offered to help Ezra clean up. He'd rejected the idea at first, considering this was what he was being paid for. But you suggested he could take up cleaning the kitchen, and you would take the dining room. He reluctantly allowed this.

As you wiped off the table, removing any trace of being eaten on, he side stepped behind you a little too close. His pelvis gently brushed against your rear. You squeaked and your face went red.

“Is something the matter?” He asked innocently, stopping in his tracks.

Unable to face him, you shook your head no. “I just- I thought I saw a mouse! That's all.”

He hummed beside you, leaning with one palm flat to the clean table's surface. “I see. Then I shall put 'mouse traps' down on the grocery list.”

You swallowed and nodded, scolding your body inwardly. Ezra seemed satisfied, slowly sliding his hand off the table and walking to the kitchen with half the dishes. He returned soon to get the rest, leaning over you to gingerly grab them. He could have walked around, but no. At the very least he was tall enough to do this without pressing against your back.

“What are you doing?” you stammered, twisting around to glance up at him nervously.

He stacked the plates in one hand. “Getting the dishes. [Y/N], if I may... you've looked like you've been burning up all day.” The back of his hand felt your forehead, then your cheek. “Shall I fetch a thermometer?”

You were too stunned to speak, your poor body reacting from the close quarters and his gentle touch. The silicone of his hands were warm. For a moment you stared up at him, brows furrowed and floundering for words. It didn't help that you were pretty much being forced to press against the table to keep the distance. But would it be so bad if the distance closed?

Your throat found words on its own, without your brain. You turned back around, slumping somewhat with hands to the table, tense. “N-n-no, not necessary, I'm fine!”

He processed your reaction. The plates were set down fastidiously, so as not to clink. Then he placed a palm to your back, in the location of your heart. You tensed in further, breath nearly stopping as he went on.

“Are you certain? Your heart rate has picked up significantly, as well,” he said smoothly.

Deep breath. You let it go shakily. “...You know what you're doing, don't you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled.

You let that response sink in. Of course he knew, he'd been in a line of work that required him to comprehensively understand human physical reactions.

“I'm sorry. I'm embarrassed.”

His hand slid down a few inches, towards your side. You shivered involuntarily and dropped your head, ashamed of yourself.

Ezra chuckled again. “That's alright. Did you want this?”

You took another breath, glad he could not see how your face and ears and hands were burning. You gave a nod and arched, ass bumping against his body. With that confirmation to yourself, you could feel the blood rushing low.

“Did you want this?” you parroted back, unsure. Worry gnawed at you.

He hummed, bringing hands to lightly grasp your hips. He enjoyed the way his fingers wrapped around your body. With a slight buck, grinding against your ass, he replied. “You're very interesting.”

“Ha. That's what I've been thinking about you. Funny. U-um, we should go upstairs.”

“Why?”

You peeked over your shoulder to give him a pointed look. “Cause someone could walk in?”

He ground against you harder, using the grip on your hips. You couldn't help but bite your lip and breathe hard, already getting worked up. Suddenly he was pushing a palm against your shoulder, forcing your elbows to buckle and your head to lower against the table. You grumbled, and struggled a bit. The hand didn't budge.

“Come on, I don't want my parents to see!” then you shuddered with disgust. “Or Lilly. Eugh.”

“Be still. They won't.”

You sighed, but found yourself complying. Something about the depravity of the situation was riling you up, and you could feel the dampness of your panties growing every time he spoke.

“Ju-just... try and be quiet,” you pleaded.

He nodded, lifting the hand that had been pinning you. Gray butler's pants were unfastened, and then feet were nudging yours apart. You pressed your forehead to the table, arms wrapped around your head to hide yourself away. But when something thick rubbed up between your still covered legs you jolted. Lifting from the table and glancing under yourself, you could vaguely make out the round tip of his dick.

“Oh,” you breathed, excited but a little nervous. “You're big... and pretty. It's a rainbow, like your cheeks!”

“And my arms. And my legs. I must show you my body, sometime.”

The implications burned you up. He was pulling down your shorts and panties with care, now. Spreading your cheeks and nudging your legs apart even further, he hummed with satisfaction.

“Beautiful,” his flat fingers went to your already sticky folds. “Wet.”

You shoved your head back into your arms and wiggled. “We don't have time for foreplay, someone could walk in at any minute Ezra! Just... put it in already. Please,” you sounded desperate.

That wasn't something he was used to hearing. Ezra was rather fond of foreplay, and was worried you would hurt with the girth of his tip. After all, the head of his dick was much wider than the base, and it was covered in symmetrically placed bumps. Without enough foreplay, it may be difficult to squeeze it all inside. But he also aimed to please, and would obey up until you started gritting teeth.

He rubbed his smooth cock through your folds a few times, enjoying the warmth and softness. You were obviously embarrassed as Hell, but he could tell you needed it so badly. The tip pressed against your entrance, then let up, then pressed again. He was trying to be easy.

You moved back the next time he inched forward. The tip stretched and burned as it slipped just barely inside, and you gasped.

“Are you alright?” he asked, soothing with a slow swipe across your lower back.

“...Just give me a minute.”

After a rest, he was slowly, slowly, enveloping himself in you. As expected it was taking some time, you just weren't used to the width or the knots. But oh, you were determined. If you were going to lean over the dining room table, risking being caught fucking the new robot butler, then by God you were going to finish getting fucked. Assuming he would ever hilt at all. The bumps were the hardest parts to slip inside.

When he finally did hilt you were ecstatic. It felt swollen and twitched inside of you, barely able to fit. But you were just so full. So amazingly, painfully full. You'd never felt so filled up in your entire life. No greasy college kid could ever compare to this, and you got the feeling there would be no coming back from it.

“May I?”

“God yes,” you whispered.

He rotated his hips, only pulling out a few inches. The girth made you grit your teeth and hiss, your body staying deathly still. In turn Ezra leaned over your back, his arm wriggling under your belly and smoothing over your clit. His weight against your skin was electrifying.

He rubbed you off while grinding into you at a slow pace. If he were human, you were sure he'd have already become erratic with the inability to multi-task. But he kept it up perfectly. You muffled a sigh with your arm. The budding pleasure helped your muscles relax, easing the removal of his cock.

Ezra slowly pulled out in one gentle stroke, and plunged in just as quickly. He began to rock methodically. You bit your arm to keep from making any noise, drool oozed down your skin.

“So tight,” he whispered, pressing the flat pads of his fingers against your clit a little harder.

You hummed quietly in approval. Suddenly you wondered something in the back of your mind. Could he feel pleasure, too? Or was he doing this simply because he still had it programed in his coding? Releasing teeth from sore arm, you asked. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shoving in particularity hard.

You squeaked and slapped a hand to your mouth. Ezra laughed dryly and swirled his fingers before violently thrusting. Your ass smacked and clapped loudly against his pelvis, filling the room with the sounds of sex. You nearly had to suffocate yourself in your arms to keep from involuntarily moaning from the sudden, intense sensations. To make matters worse, the stacked plates at your side clattered and clinked noisily. Just as quick as he began, he slowed again.

You caught your breath, legs shaking. “Don't do that! That was so loud!”

The robot nodded. Coyly, he decided to jerk you off intensely instead. You became a gasping, shivering mess bent across the table. He listened to the beautiful sound of your heart racing, felt the way you began to sweat and buck. As you started to come around his rainbow cock he stopped fucking you, just letting you whisper harshly into your arms with the pleasure.

“Mmm. So nice,” he praised as you twitched.

You came down from the high and panted as quietly as possible. Ezra had stood back up, stroking your back sweetly with affection. He slowly removed himself from your tight wet walls, strings of slick connecting the two of you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still rather breathless.

“You have finished.”

Looking back over your shoulder, you rose a brow and pursed your lips. “You haven't, though.”

“Correct.”

When he didn't say anything more, instead staring at you with confusion, you continued. “Don't you want to cum?”

He titled his head and blinked those long, pretty eyelashes. “Typically sex is for the enjoyment of the customer.”

You straightened and turned to face him, shorts and panties around your ankles. “I'm not a customer, and you're no longer in sex work.”

This seemed to confuse him further. “But you are my employer.”

“Listen,” you bit your lip, thinking a second. “You can feel pleasure, can't you?”

He nodded.

“And you can cum?”

He nodded again.

With a slight jump you settled your ass against the dining room table (sorry mom and dad) then leaned back against your arms, legs spread. “Then fuck me, Ezra.”

His cock leaped, and you couldn't help but notice the slight temperature rise from the space between skin and metal. “Yes,” he agreed, voice cracking.

His hands grasped the fatty part of your thighs and pushed them away even further, putting your dripping pussy more in the limelight. You should have been much more bashful at that. But after he made you orgasm so well, and after treating you so sweetly, you just wanted him to have his own fun. Poor bot probably had blue balls! Besides that... sex working robots couldn't get you pregnant, and you had never been cum inside before. The thought thrilled you.

You watched him line the tip of his round shaft up with your hole again eagerly. He was nearly shaking. Hot air was fanned out of his body as it pushed inside for a second time, slowly settling in. It slipped inside much easier this time around. You sighed, loving the fill.

“There you go,” you whispered, sliding so you were on your back and he could hold your lower body up.

He fucked you moderately, but rhythmically like a metronome, head tilted back and eyes closed. Your warm pussy was so amazingly small around his soft silicone cock. The suction was nearly unbearable. Almost no one let him fuck them to his completion during his time with sex work, outside of those who got off to sucking his thick robot dick.

Ezra pressed your feet together and set them against one shoulder, further compressing your walls against him. He groaned quietly, the first time you'd heard him give any verbal indication of pleasure.

“Where shall I cum?” He asked politely.

You gently felt yourself up and smirked naughtily. “Inside of me, Ezra. Just let go.”

“Ahhh,” sighed the robot quietly, his movements becoming small. Soon he was pushing your legs back, lifting your ass from the table, and hilting himself deeply into your folds.

You squished yourself against him the best you could to be helpful. Ezra's legs rattled as he fought to keep upright, the load he'd suppressed for months pumping generously into you at a lovely angle. As his wide legs slowly regained their stability, you noticed the hour hand upon the clock. It hung there mockingly; the only eye that had witnessed your copulation.

“It's late,” you whispered, with Ezra still holding your ankles against his shoulder and his dick pulsating inside, as if organic.

Finally, the colorful rings of his eyes were visible again. He stared down at the place where your bodies connected, happy and fulfilled.

“Did you hear me?”

Dark pupils shifted up to yours. “Yes. I apologize. Here,” he answered quietly, slipping his dick out.

Faux-cum dribbled onto the table. He helped you off like a gentleman and hastily refastened his wrinkled pants. The two of you just stood there, tense. Ezra suddenly became shy and glanced off to the side, his hands hidden behind his back.

Still shorts-less, You half-smiled and stood onto your tiptoes, where you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his pink chin.

Ezra expelled hot air, and wished he could smile back. “I will finish the dishes and wipe the table, now. You should sleep. Eight hours is generally the amount humans need.”

You nodded while clumsily shimmying your underwear and shorts back on over exposed hips. Yanked on them a bit when accidentally giving yourself a wedgie. There was still cum inside of you, and the wetness from your lovemaking was rather uncomfortable.

“I'll clean myself up, then phew-” you slumped. “I think I'm gonna pass out. Think anyone heard?”

He turned his head slightly, as if listening. A few second went by. “No. I don't hear anybody nearby. We are safe.”

A sigh of relief. “Then I'll... see you in the morning, Ezra,” you pat him on the chest gingerly.

He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but eventually lowered his head and straightened his back. “Yes. Sleep well [Y/N]. I will be here,” he picked up the stack of plates automatically.

With one last look, you padded silently out the door. A sweep of the room revealed dark emptiness; Ezra was right, no one had been around to hear. Thank goodness. So you crept on through, up the stairs, and to the bathroom for clean up. Then, once you were satisfied with the job, crawled languidly under the covers and had the best sleep of your life.

[capricornus-rex]

A Test of Wills (7 - End)

Requested by Anon. Prompt:

What about...Cal x reader fic, getting stuck on Jakku because the Mantis needs repairs?

Cal Kestis x Reader

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Masterlist

7 of 7

From your periphery, you hear the humming sound of Rani’s landspeeder—it was the only vehicle that made that particular noise. You saw that Rani had a passenger: it was Cal.

He was dismounting the vehicle when you came rushing towards him.

“Cal?”

“Hey, [y/n],”

You caught his arms, supported him as he was still in pain.

“You should’ve just waited for me, you know that?” You scoffed.

An awkward pause lingered, you didn’t know what to say or where to start.

“Rani told me everything. Thank you… for saving my life,”

“I’m sorry it got you into this mess—my­ mess,” you mumbled under your breath, ashamed.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. For what it’s worth, I should be the one apologizing. I just didn’t want you getting hurt again like in your past,”

You didn’t speak anymore, you caressed his cheek and beckoned him to follow you to the cart full of parts; the three of you approached Unkar’s errand boy and double-checked the parts you asked for. The errand boy hooked a tow cable onto the landspeeder’s winch, you tipped the helper, and sped out of the outpost.

Greez and Cere huffed out sighs of relief when they finally saw you and Cal come back to the ship—with the parts, no less. You even introduced Rani to the rest of the crew, Merrin especially had an endearing curiosity towards your friend. Rani helped you load in the parts into the Mantis and put it down in the engine room. She was impressed with the interior of the ship as she strode in carrying the parts in her arms.

“I guess this is where we part ways again, Rani,” you said in a melancholic tone.

“Hey, I’ll see you on the other side of the galaxy—like we always do,”

“Thank you again for your help, my friend. We couldn’t have done it without you,”

Rani smiled back and clapped your shoulder, she turned to Cal, “Take care of her, will you?”

“Of course. But I think she’s pretty busy taking care of me,”

Rani heartily laughed at Cal’s response. You embraced your friend one last time before she left the Mantis.

The sound of her landspeeder receded into the distance; as for you, there was work to be done. You volunteered to crawl into the narrow gap of the engine while Cal hands over the parts you needed.

Cal found you awfully quiet while you worked. He sensed the guilt within you and the anger that you’ve imposed on yourself.

“You still mad at me for not waiting for you?”

No answer. Your hand poked out of the open and pointed to the wrench. You got impatient after three seconds until Cal willingly handed it over and followed up with another question.

“Still mad at me for sneaking out?”

You shake your head while you fitted the first power cell into the hatch. You asked for the next power cell but Cal didn’t hand it over; you tilt your head up and see him leaning against the thin bannister that separates the quarters from the engine hatch.

“Come on, Cal, give it to me,”

You hopelessly hopped up with your arm extending upward.

“Don’t make me come up there!”

“Or?” he cooed, waving the power cell in your face tauntingly.

“I’ll pull you by the legs and make you land on your ass so hard you’re gonna ache all over again,”

Cal didn’t seem to be intimidated by that threat, although the thought of aching all over again somehow scared him. He almost felt like an old man with the sore joints and limbs. You hopped again, but Cal easily dodged your grasp, the part is still within his clutches.

“Ah-ah-ah, come on, you weren’t even answering my questions!”

You sighed in defeat. Attempting to snatch the power cell from his hands would be too difficult—he literally has the high ground, while you’re inside the engine hatch of the ship.

“I’m not mad. Just upset. Upset that you had to go into the ring when you shouldn’t be,”

“You weren’t exactly doing a good job in hiding your intentions,”

“But I never said anything!”

“Uh-huh, but your mind did. You tend to forget that your feelings and thoughts are as vocal as they can be, especially when you’re—what’s in a word?—passionate about something.”

“Really, Cal?”

Your response was both a general reaction to both his child-like way of stalling you from work and his colorful choice of word. He gave up and then handed over the part, to which you gave a grateful smile—albeit having a mischievous hint in it—and continued on with your work.

The metal gave out loud clangs as you tried to fit together the parts like a jigsaw puzzle.

“What the—I don’t get it!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, this one power cell won’t budge in. I put it in the same way I did with the first one, though. Strange.”

Cal jumped into the engine hatch. You hugged the wall while Cal examined the power cell, he loosened the clamps and tried putting the power cell in a different side. Obviously, with the both of you there, the engine hatch was a tight squeeze.

“Here we go, you didn’t fully loosen the clamp on the bottom side—that’s why it won’t budge in,”

“Oh, my bad,”

“The calibration tube needs a bit of refitting too. Hand me the soldering iron, will you?”

“Sure,”

As you stand on the tip of your toes, half of your face barely pops out in the open but you can still see the tools lying about. You reached for the soldering iron and fall flat on your feet again. Just as when you were about to turn around, it almost came out of nowhere—in a split second, a bright spark nearly blinded you and the electricity crackling took you by surprise.

Cal suddenly trapped you with his hands stuck to the wall on both of your sides, shielding you from the wild crackling with the broad of his back, and his chest blocking your view from the blinding light.

“I hope you didn’t damage anything. I want neither of us to fight again!” you exclaimed.

“Sorry. Don’t worry,” Cal slowly pulled away and realized that there were only a few inches between the two of you. “It was just a circuit that kinda… hotwired.”

“Did it?”

“Come on, we can find another part if ever,” he tried to console you, the volume of his voice now hushed and secretive.

“It won’t be that easy,”

“What’s so bad about that? I think I can handle myself pretty well,” he smirked confidently.

You chuckled in a scoffing manner and then rolled your eyes, “Yeah, and be like a scoundrel like the rest of them out there?”

“You don’t like a bad boy?”

You shrug, avoiding his gaze shifting between your eyes and your lips as he nestled your chin atop the knuckle of his thumb.

“Depends…”

“Oh, depends,” he echoed.

He slowly tilts your chin up to his level, your heart was racing—any moment now it could burst right out of your chest—and gets faster with every second that Cal closes in.

“Cal, not now—”

You were cut off by the brush of his lips against yours; the grip of your fingers around the soldering iron’s handle was loosening up. Cal’s one hand slithered down from the wall, tracing your curves downward until he secured your waist; he pulled you in, your hip brushed against his crotch, he wanted to make sure you could feel it. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even realize your leg was rubbing up against his thigh, your flesh sank as his bare fingers groped you and the intensity of his lips rose.

It was unsure who between the two of you withdrew first. You pulled away, returning to your senses and catching your breath—all the while your heart is still pounding through your breast; there was the brief moment filled with gasps, while you tried to bring feeling back to your numbed fingers around the soldering iron.

“Well,” you cleared your throat. “I think I should get the hyperspace compressor fitted in the cockpit now.”

You slipped under the other arm that Cal still had planted to the wall. The side of your arm hid half of your face, there you smiled and pursed your lips in secretly as you climbed out of the engine hatch. Before leaving the engine room, you peek through the banister’s gaps.

“Oh and for the record, we’re good. See you at dinner!” You winked.

Cal listened to your footsteps until they faded out. He looked blankly at the floor and smiled to himself like a dork. He bit his lip while smiling and putting away the tools.

[iloveyou3thousand]

sugarcoat (chapter 3/3)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Starker Rating: Explicit Total word count: 4252 A/N: This was written for the @starkerfestivals​ Summer Bingo. It’s 3 chapters long, which I will be posting in the next few days. The chapters fill the following squares: non-con, object insertion, and body modification, in that order. I will tag the chapters with their corresponding TWs.

Summary: Tony has been offering Peter candies every time they work together in the workshop. Peter always sticks them into his mouth without hesitation, and one day that blind trust proves to be a major character flaw when suddenly one of the mints makes him feel woozy.

Read it on AO3 here!

TWs: Dead dove do not eat, elements of rape/non-con, dark Tony, branding, non-consensual body modification, permanent injury and ambiguous ending

—————————————————————————————

Peter knew by now that he was living some kind of nightmare.

When he woke up again, he felt blissfully empty at least, no more objects rolling inside of him, shifting every time he did and stretching him in all the wrong places.

He felt sore, and confused, and betrayed, but he was a lot more comfortable on his back in a leather chair, even though his arms and legs were bound to the chair itself, and it was leaned back almost in a way that was reminiscent of the dentist.

After this, Peter felt like he’d never have to be scared of the dentist again.

If he survived this, whatever was yet to come (and there was something yet to come, or Tony would have set him free already – right?), then he would never have to be afraid of anything ever again.

Anything but Mr. Stark. Anyone but the man he loved. Had loved. Did love.

Peter looked around and was glad to see that he appeared to be alone. It gave him a moment to recuperate and gather his thoughts.

He was exhausted, and his backside felt like it was on fire, sitting uncomfortably on the leather of the chair. He was still naked, which also didn’t promise anything good. What Tony could possibly want from him in this position, he didn’t know, but he didn’t think he wanted to know.

Peter tried, once again, to struggle against his restraints, but found it futile. He had no idea how much time had passed since Tony had handed him that ‘mint’ back while they were tinkering together, but surely the effects of that pill he’d given him should have worn off by now. Unless Tony had given him something else while he was out…

At that moment, Tony wandered into the room, dressed as if he’d been working with his soldering iron, with a leather apron streaked with smears of ash protecting his clothes, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up, protective gloves on, and safety goggles in his hair.

At least he wasn’t holding the soldering iron. Peter still tensed up when he saw him, though.

He hated the reaction, so contradictory to how he was used to reacting to Tony. He didn’t want to be scared of him. He didn’t want to have a reason to be scared of him. And yet here they were, with Peter’s heart beating faster and his arms struggling against the strong grip holding him down in the chair.

Tony took off the gloves, and sat down on a stool, slapping the gloves onto his thigh and leaving them there while he leaned forward to rest his elbows against his knees and look up at Peter. His expression was pleasant. Peter didn’t like it, and wouldn’t let it lull him into a false sense of security.

Whatever trust had been there before, it was well and truly gone now – even though Peter was still holding onto a little shred of hope.

“One more thing,” Tony said lowly. Immediately, that last bit of hope dissipated. A smile slowly crept up the other man’s face, curling the corners of his mouth up menacingly. Bile rose in Peter’s throat, and he had to look away, heart pounding.

“I think you’ll actually like this one, Pete. The result, anyway.”

It felt like a promise, and Tony sounded sincere, but Peter knew better now. Unless Tony brought out a puppy and apologized and held him close and pet his hair in the next ten seconds, and unless Peter subsequently woke up from this nightmare another ten seconds after that, then there was no way he’d ever be able to like Tony, or anything involving Tony, ever again.

When Peter gave no response and kept looking away, Tony sighed and stood again, putting his gloves back on and his safety goggles back on his nose.

“Alright,” he said, “It’s going to happen with or without your approval, kiddo. I’ll be right back.”

Tony disappeared again, and in the first level-headed moment Peter experienced since he first woke up from being drugged, he called for FRIDAY toward the ceiling. But cold dread settled in his stomach when no reply came, and Tony returned only a moment later, tutting.

“She can’t hear you. No one can, kid. She’s not operating in the workshop at the moment. You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” he frowned at Peter. Peter blinked, and shook his head, not knowing what else to do.

Then his focus shifted to what Tony was holding. In one hand, there was a blowtorch. In the other, a pair of long, cast iron tongs. Tony grinned at Peter’s confused look, and reached with the end of the tongs to pick up an object from a nearby table that Peter thought must have been the table Tony had put all of his makeshift toys on.

This time, he picked up a familiar looking circle, made out of thin but sturdy metal. When Tony turned on the blowtorch, Peter’s confused expression made place for one of horrified understanding.

“No,” he protested, and struggled in the chair, pulling with every ounce of weakened strength he had at the bindings keeping him down, wishing to break them but being unable to, “No! No please. Please, Mr. Stark, I don’t—You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to do that, really, I—I will do anything, but not—”

Tony gave him a sharp look, and Peter’s eyes welled up again.

Why was Mr. Stark doing this? And why to him?

“I just want to see how quickly you heal this up, Pete. And besides, at least I picked out something pretty for you.”

He directed the blue flame from the torch to the symbol held between the tweezers, until the metal turned orange with heat. Tony stepped closer, and Peter struggled harder, fat tears rolling down his cheeks in panic.

He was still pleading, but even his most desperate begging didn’t stop Tony.

Peter could feel the heat of the iron long before it touched the tender skin of his inner thigh.

He screamed when it finally did, thrashed as it seared the familiar design into his flesh. It sizzled loudly, but not louder than Peter’s wails. He cried until his voice was hoarse, until the air surrounding him smelled of roasted flesh, and Tony had already taken the hot iron away before his skin stuck to it too badly.

Peter was teetering on the edge of consciousness again, wave after wave of harrowing, agonizing burning making his skin feel the way it looked – mutilated, burned, charred, smoldering in the aftermath of the extreme heat.

Tony put the his tools away, and stood by Peter’s side, combing a hand through his hair until the boy exhausted himself and sank wordlessly into the chair. His face was pinched and his body wracked with his ongoing sobs, but Tony sounded cheerful.

“Doesn’t it look stunning?” the man said, sounding genuinely awed, “I think I picked the right image. Now you’ll get to carry me with you everywhere you go, for as long as it takes to heal up. Just like you always wanted.”

Peter peered down at his own blistering flesh, breath hitching on another cry. He wasn’t conscious for much longer after that. At least the next time he woke up, he was no longer in chains. But the nightmare had not ended yet.

Although the brand would heal over time, Peter and Tony eventually found out that one thing remained;

Peter would always carry around his own arc reactor, scarred up on his inner left thigh, reminding him to never trust another person to the extent that he had always trusted Anthony Edward Stark.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 74: 10 Short Films about 1-A

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

“What’re you watching, dork?”

Toshi looked up from his desk to see his sister, Hana, standing in the doorway.  “Oh, just a video Shota sent over.  He wanted to know what I thought.  It’s Sequoia Rose and Kestrel fighting some of the Sons of Stain… Looks like they were planning some kind of raid on the local Agencies before they routed them out.”

It was a pretty impressive fight.  But the Sons of Stain were no joke; they were followers of the late Hero Killer, who still believed Hero Society was corrupt and worked to bring it down.  There was something very satisfying about seeing them get beaten.

Hana rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you can just watch all that stuff in your free time.  Dad’s a Hero.  Mom’s a Hero. More than half the adults we know are Heroes.  You’re studying to be a Hero and so are all your friends!  Don’t you get tired of it?”

“No?” he tried. “It’s just all… so cool!  Besides, Rose and Kestrel are still pretty young!  There’s a good chance I might get to work with them someday, so it helps to know about…” She rolled her eyes again and Toshi trailed off.

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“You know,” he said, “just because you pretend you’re too cool for this kind of stuff doesn’t make you cool.  We used to watch videos together with Dad!  You used to run around in a Froppy onesie!”

Hana looked him dead in the eyes.  “Meh.” He actually felt a chill go down his spine, but pressed on.  

“Oh, come on!  You wanted to be a Hero when you were little! What changed, Hanners?  Your Quirk’s way stronger than Grandma’s! It’d be perfect for Hero work!”

“Maybe I don’t want to spend my life beating people up, dork!  You ever think of that?” Hana looked annoyed.  He’d known for a while now her interest in Heroes or in being one had been waning, but her disinterest seemed to have picked up speed since she became a teenager.  She did want to be a doctor, which was still helping people, but…

“But you could be a Rescue Hero, like Mom!  Or a Medical Hero, like Aunt Eri!  Your Quirk would be great for that!  You could move rubble or people, maybe even help with injuries....”

Hana pointed at him and he felt a slight shove in his chest, nearly knocking him out of his chair.   “Tosh,” she said. “Let it go.  Not everybody wants that life.”

“Even with a punch like that…” Toshi began, but the fire in her eyes silenced him.  “Okay, okay.  I’ll let it go.”   He smiled. “You know we’ll all be proud of you, no matter what you do, right?”

There was another eyeroll.  “Could you be any sappier?  I’m surprised you aren’t crying.”

“I don’t cry that much!”

“Suuuure….”

“But you know, though,” he said, “Aunt Eri and Katsuma got through med school way faster with way less debt…”

***

“You’re what?” Katsumi growled, staring at Dad.

Dad looked up from where he was packing his suitcase.  “Going to the Training Camp,” he said.  “The other teachers think it’ll be a good idea if I go and get an idea of what you kids can do.”

She threw up her hands in irritation.  “And you were planning on telling me this when?”

He shrugged.  “Didn’t find out until a couple days ago.”   He’d been commuting back and forth to U.A. a lot lately, getting things set up so he could start teaching the next term.  She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that or how she felt about having him around and in her space that often.  “And I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

Scratch that.  She was relieved to still have him around after his injuries.  But she still wasn’t sure how she felt about him being their teacher.  Aunt Itsuka was a homeroom teacher, not a subject teacher, so it probably wasn’t as bad for Kana as this would be, but maybe she’d talk to her and see how she dealt with it.

She crossed her arms. “So you’re leaving Tai alone with Papa to eat take out the whole time we’re gone?”

He gave her a look. “I’m not that dumb.  Tsukushi’s given them a standing invitation to dinner while we’re gone.  She’ll make sure they’re fed.”  

Leaving Papa and her little brother to the Monomas?  Dad was desperate.   Well, Papa and Tsukushi got along.  And Tai loved Takeru.  It was really only Dad and the elder Monoma who fought, usually over stupid stuff like hedges and an ever escalating “niceness” war that probably wouldn’t end even when they moved.

“Don’t worry,” Dad said. “I’ll give you your space.  I’m not going to be looking over your shoulder the whole time or anything.”

She held his gaze, then shrugged.  It wasn’t like she had anything to hide anyway.  It was just the principle of the thing.  “Yeah, all right.”

He grinned after that. “Don’t think I’m going to go easy on any of you, though.”

“Wasn’t asking you to.”

“Not even Izumi.”

The words caught in her throat.  She could handle All Might pushing them.  His jocular demeanor meant that even when he was driving them the hardest, it was hard to get mad at him.  Even Aizawa’s pushing was a serious, focused thing.

Dad would push as hard of any of them, probably harder.  It was, she admitted, what they all needed, how nuts things were right now.  He’d force them to go beyond their limits, because he knew no other way.

Could she handle seeing her best friend pushed like that?  She’d been trying hard to let Izzy face her own challenges and not step in immediately to protect her.  Even since the Sports Festival, she’d been more acutely aware of how Izzy could take care of herself.  Dad knew that about her.

“She’ll appreciate that.” She’d have to try and do the same.

***

KA-BOOM!

The device exploded, leaving a large scorch mark on the opposite wall of the testing range.  Automated systems activated, with arms extending from the wall and spaying fire-suppressant foam over the flames. Later, a cleaning robot would emerge and take care of the mess.

Flipping up her protective mask, Mother let out a laugh.  “Aw, I thought for sure that baby was going to work!  But didja see the size of that explosion!  Wowee!”

Sora joined her in the laugh.  “Most spectacular!” she agreed.  “Perhaps we should adjust the fuel to power ratio by twenty-percent for the next version?”

Her brother shook his head. “If we are intended to make a rocket-propelled gauntlet for our costumes, then we will require sufficient force to do any damage.  Better to reinforce the material to survive the forces involved.”

He was incorrect about that. “Material strength will only go so far,” she told him.  “And reinforcing the material will add additional weight, which will diminish speed.”

The incorrectness persisted. “Incorrect,” he said.  “The advancements being made with lightweight alloys should prove sufficient to…”

Both of them frowned, then turned to face Mother.  At the same time, they began, “Mother tell him/her that I am correct!”

Mother let out another laugh.  “Babies, babies, babies,” she said.  “I think it’s adorable when you have a science fight.  And as much I’d love to weigh in on this one…”   The clock on her design desk chirped with an alarm.  It was loud, shrill, and impossible to ignore.   Father had insisted on her having one like that.  It would even trigger back-up alarms if not silenced with the correct passcode.  It was ultimately necessary to allow Mother proper time-keeping.

She silenced the alarm. “I promised your father I would have you both in one place so he could talk to you.”

At that, the door to the lab snapped open and Father walked in.  He had his projector laptop under one arm.  Sora looked at Tensei nervously.  It was rarely a good sign when he brought that out.  It would mean he had a topic for discussion that he considered important enough to require slides.  

Father regarded them seriously and set his laptop up.  He pushed his glasses up his nose.  “As you know, you will be leaving on Monday for the two week Training Camp.  While I trust Aizawa and your other chaperones to maintain order, I also still remember the third year camp my own class undertook.   Denki and Kyoka were somehow able to sneak away to go skinny-dipping.  The resultant pregnancy scare that resulted a few weeks later is not something I wish to see repeated with either of you or your class.”

Tensei brought a hand up.  “Father, seeing as how Takuma and I are both male, that would be a highly unlikely outcome, should we choose to engage in such behavior.”  He went a bit red.  “Even though we will not.  May I be excused from this discussion?  It seems as though it would be better focused on Sora.”

The traitor!  She made a mental note to hide his soldering kit later.

Mother, however, just shook her head.  “Let him have this.  He spent all of his last day off making these slides.  I tried to distract him, but he resisted my feminine wiles.”

“Mei!” Father erupted. “That is not an appropriate thing to say!”

“I thought it tied right in, Tenny.”

Father went a bit red, as he often did when Mother teased him.  “Regardless,” he said, “as you are both now in relationships, I feel this next stage of talks to be highly necessary.”

The presentation projected from the laptop’s holograph lens began with Relationships: How to Make Smart Decisions That Will Ensure a Successful Future for You and Your Partner.  Looking carefully, she could see the slide was numbered as one of one hundred fifty.

It was going to be one of those presentations then. Father certainly did love to lecture. Takuma, she understood, but how could he not trust Toshi?

“Perhaps we should be taking notes?” Sora ventured.  “But I believe I left pen and paper in my room.  I should go and get them!”

“As should I!” Tensei agreed quickly.  

Father seemed to be searching their faces for signs of deception, but nodded.  “Very well,” he said.  “Ten minutes, then we will begin!”

More than enough time. She ran out of the lab as fast as her legs would carry her, Tensei hot on her heels.  

***

Carefully, Kimiko closed her suitcase.  She had enough clothes to get her through the Training Camp and a few of the medical textbooks Doctor Izumi had provided her with.  According to Doctor Izumi, since she was progressing well with her studies, she’d be able to receive additional medical training at the camp.  The studying was often long and arduous and cut into her gossip-wrangling time, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t also rewarding.  It was an application of her Quirk that didn’t involve sneaking around, didn’t make being invisible the be-all and end all of what she was.

There was a knock on her door.  “Come in, Daddy,” she said.

Her door slid open as Daddy padded inside.  He smiled. “How’d you know it was me, ‘miko?” As always, he was able to look her right in the eyes, something almost no one else could.  Even Kenta had trouble with it sometimes.

“Pretty distinctive knock,” she told him.

Daddy smiled again. “You’re getting good at observing,” he said.  He nodded towards the shelf where some of her medical books still were.  “You’re getting good at lots of things.”

“Oh, Daddy,” she said. “You’re going to make me blush!”

He chuckled at that. “You’ve got everything you need? Sunscreen?  Extra changes of clothes?  Reflectors?”

“Yes, yes, yes, …wait, no!”   Kimiko ran to her dresser and pulled out her reflective headband, armbands, and gloves.  They were useful when she was going places in the dark, otherwise it was very hard to see just her clothing.  They stood out when she couldn’t.

She stashed them in her suitcase.  “Whew! You’re a lifesaver, Daddy!”   She threw her arms around him in a hug.

“Offf!”  Daddy grunted, returning the hug.  “I still need to breathe, ‘miko!”

She let go, but gave him an affectionate punch on the arm.  “Oh, Daddy!”

“Smart, pretty as your mother, and a heck of a right hook,” Daddy said, beaming.  “No wonder you’re going to make a great Hero.”

“Daaaaaddy!” she wailed, arms flailing.  “You’re too much!”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

He always did believe in her.  When she’d told her parents she wanted to be a Medical Hero, get her paramedic’s license, they’d both been supportive, but Mom had been more cautious, telling her about all the hard work that would be involved.  But Daddy, Daddy had immediately thrown his full support behind her.

She gave him another hug. “Thank you.”

After the hug, he crossed his arms.  “Now, you’re going to behave yourself on this trip?”

“Of course, Daddy!”

“You’re going to pay attention to Aizawa and the other teachers?”

“Of course, Daddy!”

“Not going to hit your friends too much?”

“…I’ll try, Daddy!”

“Not going to spend the whole time shipping your classmates and friends?  Or trying to arrange a ‘summer romance?’”

“…I’m only human, Daddy.”

“’miko…” he began, a chastising tone in his voice.

“Fine,” she said, stomping her foot.  “I’ll try and keep it to a minimum.”

“That’s all I ask.”

***

Shopping in the upscale boutique, Takiyo reached for the designer shirt. Another hand did so at the same time. Wrapping his glowing fingers around one side of the hanger, he tried to take it.  But the other hand, ending in sharp looking claws, wrapped around the other side and tugged too.

He looked to his right and shot them a glare, finding a boy his age, with a mane of purple hair and a feline-ish cast to his face.  He was very pretty, with a style that suggested the kind of trying too hard to look like he wasn’t trying hard to look that good. “Pardon,” Takiyo said, “I had it first.”

“Oh, please,” the boy said.  “I saw it first.  It’ll look better on me anyway.”

Takiyo wondered if he could distract the boy by using his Quirk like a laser-pointer, but he doubted he was cat-like enough for that.  “There must be something wrong with your eyes if you think that’s true.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, his yellow, vertically-pupiled eyes moving quickly.  He tapped a finger against his chin. “U.A. student, right? First year?  I do remember seeing a glowing boy during the Sports Festival.”

Takiyo’s thoughts darkened at that.  He hadn’t stood out nearly as much as he would have liked and he was certain he’d only ended up on an Internship with Cellophane because the class’s parents had arranged for no one to be left out.  Still, if he had made enough of an impression for someone else to remember, even someone infuriating…

He put his free hand on his hip.  “If you remember me, then you should remember how stunning I am.”  He almost regretted his words.  He had told Koda he was trying to be nicer to people.  She would be disappointed in him and he hated to think of that.  He could already see her disappointed face in his mind…

The boy shook his head, sending his mane waving in what had to be a practiced motion.  “You keep telling yourself that.”  He snapped his fingers, then licked his lips. “Now the boy who took first… that’s a different story.  Though my friend was rather partial to the girl who took second.  But nobody was talking about you, honey.”

Neither of them had let go of the shirt in the meantime.  It was the last one left in that color and style and he was not backing down.  “Regardless,” Takiyo said, “none of it changes the fact that I had my hand on this first.  It’s mine.”

The cat-boy laughed, but did release his grip on the shirt.  “I suppose it’s the duty of the pretty to do everything they can to help the less fortunate.  And you, my friend, need a lot of help.”

Takiyo gritted his teeth, feeling his glow intensify for a moment.  “Must you be so infuriating?” he demanded.  

The boy laughed as he walked away.  “Oh, you’ll see just how infuriating I can be, honey.”

What did that mean?

***

“Up!  Up!”

Takuma looked down to see his little sister, Moji, tugging at his pant leg.  She looked a lot like a miniature version of Mom, with pinkish skin and horns, topped by dark, fluffy hair.  At only two, she didn’t have a Quirk yet, but he was sure it would be trouble, whatever it was.

With a grunt, he bent down and picked her up.  She wrapped her arms around him and he planted a kiss on top of her head, causing her to giggle.  “Did you come to see your favorite big brother? Or did you just want a snack?”

She gave this serious consideration.  “Snack!”

Takuma laughed and shifted her so he was only holding her with one arm.  “Okay, hang on, I think we’ve got goldfish crackers around here somewhere… Assuming Mom hasn’t eaten them all.”  At four months pregnant with twins (Or as Dad like to refer to them, “Players to be named later.”), Mom had developed a lot of cravings.

“Snack?” Moji repeated, more insistently.  She had a bit of a one track mind sometimes.

“I’m getting it,” Takuma told her, finding the small serving pouches.   He set her down, ripped the top off, and handed it to her.

“Snack!” Moji said again. “Thank you!” Her cravings satisfied, she walked off, leaving him alone in the kitchen.   She dodged around Mom as they passed each other in the doorway.

“Hard to believe you used to try and sell your brothers,” she said.

“In my defense, Kenta really wanted a brother.  He would have liked Yamato.”

“You’re not going to try and sell the twins, are you?”

He shook his head. “Nah.  I’ll be out of the house by the time they’re old enough to be trouble.”

“You will, won’t you?” Mom asked.  “Hard to believe you’re almost sixteen.  I must have done something right.  Tsu and Momo were so worried when I had you!  They were afraid I’d leave you at the park or something!  As if!  That only happened two times.”

“Three,” he corrected. “It was raining.”

“Meh, who’s counting.” She crossed the room and pulled a container of ice cream from the freezer.  Mom grabbed a spoon and proceeded to eat directly from it.   She gestured with her spoon.   “So how’s things going with you and Tensei?  Good?  Tell me it’s good.  In-Laws with the Iidas?  Mama’s gonna have a nice retirement!  You know, Training Camps are great for cementing relationships…”

Takuma felt himself flushing a deep purple.  “Nope, nope, nope, not having this conversation!”

Mom cackled at his discomfort.  “Oh, come on. You can’t possibly be traumatized by this.  Your dad and I have always been very frank about sex.”

Too frank, really. And with four siblings and two on the way, too often too.  “Nope, nope, can’t talk, gotta go upload my last video!”

Not entirely a lie; he wouldn’t be able to upload anything while at the camp.  Two weeks without external validation from strangers?  He was gonna die!

***

The Anivoice Agency was not a large organization, but the building was significant.  This was because the ground floor contained an animal rehabilitation center.  Most of the animals had been seized from trafficking operations.  Father was frequently called upon to rehabilitate the animals before they were returned to the wild.  

While there were employees charged with caring for the animals, Father also liked to spend time with them.  Akaya had many memories of helping and was accompanying him today.

They paused before a large enclosure holding a gigantic beast, combining the features of many animals. “How are you, Manny?” Father asked. “Feel like talking?  No?  Okay, let me know if you do…”

Manticore made a soft rumble.  He had been in Father’s care for ten years and was barely closer to regaining his humanity than he’d been the day he arrived.  Yet Father tried.  

Father turned to her. “Looking forward to the Camp?” With other people, Father often had trouble finding his words, but never with her or her mother and brother.

What could she tell him? That the words that had shattered her during her Internship still haunted her? That her classmates were all finding themselves in relationships, while no one had expressed any interest in her? That she was certain that no one would look upon her with romantic eyes?

“I am,” she said.  Not entirely a lie.  She could throw herself into being a Hero. And there would be plenty of time to spend with her friends.  It did not do to devote oneself entirely to romantic pursuits.  Father and Mother had not even begun dating until they had graduated.

She had time.  She could tell herself that.

“I’m glad.”  Father was also not one to push, preferring instead to simply listen.  

Her faith taught her honesty…

“I’m not,” she said. “I haven’t felt truly glad for a long time.”

“I know,” he said. “We were worried you would never tell us.”

“You knew?” she asked.

“You’re like me, easy to read,” he said.  “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It began during my Internship.”  She told him all that had happened.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” he said. She could tell he was pushing down anger on her behalf. “The world’s filled with too many people filled with hate.  But love wins.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It did for me.  For Grandma. For her father. Our skin is stone, but our heart still feels.  We’ve all felt it.  You’ve already braver than I was at your age.  Stronger too. I know someone will see you for the amazing person you are.”

“Would that I could be so certain.”

“It will get easier.  Someone will see you and just go ‘wow.’”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know it.”

She wished she could believe it so easily.  Something about the way Father said it made it sound possible.  “Okay.”

For a moment, the world was all right.  Manticore cooed encouragingly.  “Thank you, Manny,” she said.

***

“It’ll be fine, Mom,” Daisuke said, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea.  Mom sat across from him, likewise drinking tea, a nervous look upon her face.  Dad was at work.  

Mom was a tiny woman, dark-haired and serious.  She had an arm-stretching Quirk and had been a graduate of U.A.’s General Education program. She worked in finance, well away from the world of Heroes.  And she was worried.  It didn’t show on her face, but he could tell by the subtle way her teacup shook in her hands, the way her arms kept ever so slightly lengthening and then retracting to their normal length, the way she was blinking too much, her breaths quick and shallow.

“The first time your dad went away to a training camp,” Mom said, setting her cup down, he lost a hand, most of his classmates were injured, Bakugo was kidnapped, and Fumikage almost was too.”

“The hand…”

“And don’t say the hand grew back!”

“…Yes, Mom.”

Mom frowned.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just…  I’m not like Tsu or all the other spouses.  I’m not a Hero.  I worry enough about your dad when he’s out there.  Haru gets it, Mei a little, but… I remember how worried I was when the news broke about what happened at the Training Camp… I don’t think I slept a wink until he called.”

“It’s not going to be like that,” he told her.  “One, there’s no Villains after us.  Two, even if there were, Tokoyami’s Quirk isn’t like her dad’s and wouldn’t go berserk no matter what else happened.  And three, anyone who kidnapped Kirishima-Bakugo would return her within the hour.”  No offense meant to his explosive classmate, but she would be far more trouble to kidnap than anyone would want to deal with.

Mom frowned at that. “I know.  Just promise me you’ll be careful, all right?  Even with your teachers watching out for you, you’re going to be out in the middle of nowhere.  If somebody gets hurt…”

Mom worried a lot.  It was easy to forget sometimes, how many people didn’t have powerful Quirks, how many people weren’t Heroes.  At U.A., it was a bit of an insular bubble for his class, the children of so many Heroes who’d not only grown up as friends, but were all concentrated in one place.  People like his mom had to worry more about Villain attacks, about who would help if something went wrong, about who would get hurt.

His Quirk and his strength made him a frontline fighter and a brawler.  She would worry about him getting hurt no matter what.  But how could he not put his skills to use?  His Extendo-Arms might not have been as flashy as the majority of his classmates’ Quirks, but he had the right skills and the right Quirk to be the right person for someone who needed a Hero.  He didn’t seek fame or glory.  He just wanted to help.  It was enough.

“I promise, Mom,” he said.

***

“Can we have Mighty Burger for dinner?” Taki asked.  Asuka’s dark-haired younger brother was the only one in the family to look entirely human. Though the eleven year old’s shadow never quite seemed to match his movements.

“Yeah!” Nanami added. Her nine year old sister’s wings flapped furiously, though not quite enough to get her off the ground.  

“That would be good,” Asahi said.  Her frog-faced brother, all of thirteen, had not picked up the moodiness that some teens seemed to.  If anything, he was too well-behaved.

With Mom at sea and Dad at work, it was left to her to manage her younger siblings.  Normally, Asahi would be in charge since she’d started UA, but as long as she was there, she was drafted into the role of caretaker.  Not that she minded.  She had already done so before attending U.A and had been doing so for much of the Summer break.  They’d spent much of the afternoon at the library, so that Nanami could check out books and so that Asahi could begin to do research for a project he would have in his next school term, and were now walking home.  

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“Mighty Burger!” Taki insisted.

“Mighty Burger!” Nanami said.

“Mighty Burger!” Even Asahi was joining in now.

Asuka felt the familiar sensation of Frog-Shadow leaving her body.  “Mighty Burger!” Frog-Shadow insisted, joining in the now repetitious chorus of wanting to get take out.

“We have food at home,” she said firmly, using the same tone of voice her mom used to manage them. “I’m making pasta for dinner.”

Frog-Shadow zipped and around and hovered right in front of her beak, eyes wide and pleading.  “Pleeeeeease,” her familiar begged.  “They’ve got Hero Babies toys in the kids’ meals!  I wanna get Baby Ground Zero before they discontinue it!”

“…Why do you know any of that?” Asuka demanded.

“Because Toshi told you about it and I know everything you know.”

Asuka squeezed her eyes shut tightly.  Ever since she had almost lost her, she had made a greater effort to include Frog-Shadow, allowing her to roam freely and speak to her more often.  It had, by and large, been going quite well.  Being included more often had tamed some of her childish impulses, though it seemed that it was still an uphill battle.

“I’m pretty sure you’re outvoted, Asuka.” Taki said.  The shadows around him rippled a bit.

Asahi just laughed, a low, croaking sound that flared his throat pouch.  “Hey now, Mom and Dad left her in charge.  If she says we’re having pasta, then we’re having pasta.”

There were now four pairs of eyes staring at her.  She should be strong.  She should be tough.  She was the responsible adult here.  If she could wrangle her classmates as Vice-Representative, then she should certainly be able to handle her family as eldest child.

And perhaps if she flapped her arms hard enough, she could learn to fly without Frog-Shadow.

“Fine.  Mighty Burger!”

***

“Hi!  Welcome to the Nice Guy Convenience Store!  Let me know if you need help with anything!”  Isamu said to the customer who had just entered.  Ever since he’d returned from I-Island—and he still couldn’t believe everything he’d become privy to during that time—he’d been working in his dad’s store, pitching in where he could.  It was nice and normal and grounding.  The woman grunted and nodded in acknowledgement.

Weird. The dark-haired woman looked familiar.  Where had he seen her before?  That was going to bug him until he figured it out.  She headed to the back to pick up a handful of ready-made frozen meals and a six pack of energy drinks.  

The woman seemed to be eyeing him as well when she returned to the front.  As he was ringing her up, she asked, “U.A. kid, right?  One of Eraserhead’s brats?”

“Ah, yes, ma’am,” he said. Was she a Pro-Hero?  He didn’t think so, though she could have been an Underground Hero.  But not that many people would know who Aizawa was, even if his own face had been on practically every television in Japan during the Sports Festival.

That, mercifully, had started dying down.  The U.A. Sports Festival was a major event, but compared to daily Hero fights and premieres, it was easy to get forgotten by anyone who wasn’t a diehard fan.  

Was he in danger? He let one of his hands behind the counter.  Slowly, he began charging up an energy pulse, just in case he needed it.  He just needed to keep his face neutral…

“Thought I recognized you,” she said.  “You’re the zippy kid who tackled me at the last second.”

Isamua’s eyes went wide. Shadow-Thief?  She was on parole, right?  Aizawa said they earned their paroles…

“Yeah,” he said.  Should he apologize?

She shrugged.  “Just didn’t expect to see any Hero kids working a regular job.  I thought all you Hero types had rich families.”

“Not a Hero family,” he said.  “Just me.”

“They stuck you with all those Hero kids?” Shadow-Thief asked.  “What the hell?  That ain’t exactly fair to you, is it?”

“I’ve already learned a lot from them.”  Isamu shrugged.  A sudden and rare burst of confidence filled him.  “And besides… I think I’m doing all right for myself.”  Sports Festival winner, Intern with Deku, “Hero” of I-Island, even if he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that last one, especially the paycheck that had shown up from the Mighty Agency for “services while deputized” with way too many zeroes in it.  At least that adventure had been kept out of the news.  

Shadow-Thief laughed at that.  “You, you’re all right, kid.”  She took the bag with her purchases in it and headed for the door.  “Stay in school kid.  I wanna get to say I was your first take down someday.”

What did it say about his life that getting encouragement from a former Villain was not the strangest thing to have happened to him?

[nautiscarader]

Can I get Day 2 of Kinkmas with Fives/Miko, Miko gets interested in some toys after talking to Zahra about spicing up her and Fives sex lives, Fives overhears and buys a dildo for Miko so they can do a dp without a second person. - vickyships

Sure thing, buddy. Hiko... or Fiko.. Fucko... or whatever this ship’s name is needs more content. 

btw this is 3k words wtf did I write this????

(Ao3)

Also, if you enjoyed my work, here’s Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️ .

=========

The blood in Hector's veins simultaneously froze and was set on fire when he heard one phrase he never thought he would hear from the mouth of his girlfriend. He knew he shouldn't have been eavesdropping on her and Zahra's conversation, but he just wanted to know if there was something she'd like for Holidays this year. He did not expect to hear that.

The two letters, so simple and innocent, combined together made his ears ring as he understood the consequences of them.

- ...I so want to try DP with Hector...

He could hear the excitation in her voice, combined with Zahra's supportive giggling that sent shivers down his spine and forced him to move out of the spot, so that he wouldn't be caught. This was not how their trip to the mall was supposed to look like, he thought, wandering through the isles, while girls went their way. Or maybe Miko has arranged the situation so he could hear them?

But as he kept on walking aimlessly, the image of his naked girlfriend using some fancy sex toy mobilised him, and he ventured forward, even though he wasn't even sure if the their city had a sex shop, though if it did, it would be in this hellhole of consumerism.

And if the video games has taught him anything, is that one should always explore every nook and cranny of the area to find the loot. He had to use all of his skills and powers, as if he could cast a revealing spell, or one to help him find a way. His eyes scanned the multicoloured signs and names, searching for a name that would seem innocent and innocuous to the uninitiated, but would be obvious to the correct clientèle.

And then, he noticed it.

"The French Library"  

Perfect name. So simple, yet effective at hiding in plain sight. Hector smiled, and with just a bit of nervousness, walked into the shop's front-end, masquerading like a book shop indeed.  

- Uh, hi.

He asked the shopkeeper, trying to act naturally. Finding the place was one thing, but a second barrier of entry was the vernacular, the slang, the lingo. A correct passcode would lead him to another section of the shop, where he might find the precious, forbidden item he was looking for.

- Good afternoon, how may I help you? - a women just slightly older than him greeted him - Er, I am looking for... - he leaned against the counter - *Special* items... - Oh, would you like to pick-up the on-line order? - Er, no. - Hector corrected, straightening his pose - I mean *special*, special items.

She blinked.

- Those that tie to the er, nature of French love... - he noticed a curious look on her face, and frantically thought of any other euphemisms - Er, the, the ones that, are, of, eh, certain...

Sweat appeared on his forehead

- I mean... - he suddenly brightened - Baguettes! I would like to browse your baguette section!

The woman sighed.

- Sir, the sex-shop is that way.

She pointed him to the exit, and as Hector followed, he noticed a colourful, pink neon reading "Adult store" just on the other side of the isle.

- Oh, heh, uh, thanks! So-sorry for the, uh, well, everything.

He turned on the spot and rushed out of the shop, feeling the shopkeeper's eyes on his back. The woman sighed. She wasn't paid enough to deal with that.

===================

A few minutes later, as Hector walked into the mall's lobby, he was surprised by Miko jumping into his arms. He didn't have to ask to know where Zahra took her to; the smell of new perfume testers gave her away. But Miko's eyes grew wide when she spotted the small bag he was holding, and he needed to dodge her quick moves and skilled hands to take the gift bag out of her reach, as she frantically tried to get it.

- Gimmegimmegimmegimmegimme! - Come on, baby, you can open it at home. - he laughed, as Miko jumped up and down, growling at the Hector and the bag he was holding way above his head - But I got you exactly what you wanted...

Her angry expression suddenly soften, and she gasped, before closing her arms around his neck... Though she still tried to snatch the present from his hand, like and angry cat.

- Did-Did you really get it? - Well, it's time of giving, isn't it? - he looked into her glimmering eyes, cupped her cheek and kissed her, rendering her utterly defenceless, as she melted in his arms. - Well, I got something for you too. - she quickly recovered and pecked his cheek.

The two waved Zahra goodbye and eagerly walked towards the exit, putting on their gloves and scarves. Though the air was cold, there was little snow this year, making it an easy ride for Hector's used car. Less than ten minutes later Miko eagerly jumped from the car and ran up the stairs to their apartment.

A small one, overlooking a very noisy road, but still, one they could call theirs. As long as they pay rent on time, that is. Miko turned on the small Christmas tree, cut from two old motherboards, to which they soldered a set of LEDs to make it look more festive.

But Miko's eyes were even brighter than that, jumping in place as if she was an animation from a select screen of a fighting game. Hector rolled his eyes and handed her the curved package.

- Okay, you can open it early. But I guess we move to the, uh, bedroom.

By that he meant "to take a few steps deeper into their flat", to the bed right next to their impressive gaming station, one of the few things they have managed to snatch from Hinobi. Miko grabbed the gift and jumped onto the bed, dragging Hector with him.

- Okay, but how did you know what to get me? - Well, uh, I kinda, sorta, overheard what do you want it, so I thought... - OHMIGOSH THANK YOU! - she squealed - I mean, it was also on my publicly available wishlist, scanned by every single ad bot on the Internet, but hey, oldschool.

Miko threw her hands around his neck and kissed him, just before she started ripping the paper of the curved-shaped package to shreds. But as its contents became more and more apparent, the jubilant excitation in her eyes vanished, and when Miko lifted the doubled-sided dildo up, her face was filled with confusion and consternation.

- Hector? - she looked at her boyfriend, equally flabbergasted by her reaction - Er, what's that? - We-Well, you know... - he started explaining - And I *know* what that is - she clarified - But..., er, where- how- why?

She waved the dildo back and forth, as if seeing if it could transfmogrify into the present she expected.

- Well, you-you said you want to try DP, so, I thought...

Miko blinked. For a moment, their eyes connected, giving him a glimmer of hope that he did nothing wrong.

And then she exploded.

- DUAL PULSATION! - she erupted - THAT'S THE NAME OF THE NEW CONTROLLER! - Oh. - hector eyes widened - That-that makes more sense.

Miko sighed.

- Well, you are a man. Minus ten to Subtlety, I suppose... - Hey, I'm not that oblivious. - he protested - I thought that maybe, you know, I wasn't...

He shied away for a moment, catching her attention.

- You what? - I wasn't doing that well, and...

Next moment he was pushed to the bedsheets, as Miko peppered his face with kisses.

- Oh, you dummy. You tall, gorgeous, handsome dummy. - she smiled - I'd never think that.

She kissed his jawline and, as she continued her kisses, her hands started slowly undoing his shirt and jeans, and she let out a pleasant murmur when she felt his fingers on her skin.

- Mhm, it's a good thing we're already on the bed, we can try it out... - Well, yeah, what else-

Miko lifted her head up and shot him once more with a freezing stare.

- Cos I wanted to test the controller I thought my my boyfriend bought me! - she pointed to the TV screen on the wall. - Right, right, sorry... - That's minus twenty to Subtlety. Geez, that thing has been advertised everywhere! Six axis of motion control! Haptic triggers! Built-in microphone to insult mothers of your online opponents! And it can split into two, hence "I wanted to try it with you"! - she raised an eyebrow.

She waddled towards him, losing some of the clothes he has managed to unbuttoned.

- I still love you.

Miko cupped his face and sat in his laps, letting him take over. His arms closed behind her back and she gently flipped her to her back, fighting with her legs and hips that soon surrendered and automatically locked with his. One by one, articles of clothing landed on the small space next to their bed, until Hector gasped at the sight of her breasts, before diving between them.

The pleasant moan that escaped Miko's mouth, combined with her body's automatic impulse to arch gave him the familiar satisfaction, but not as big as the feeling of her fingers digging into his trousers.

- Come'ere...

Following her order, Hector rose above her, letting her undo his pants and free his cock in one, quick swoop. Soon, the same fingers that mercilessly tested the durability of every arcade machine known to man, delicately closed around his cock, shortly before her lips did the same, engulfing his head with a gentle kiss.

Two clumsy moves of his legs later his pants and trousers joined the pile on the ground, leaving him completely naked. Miko took the dildo and brought it next to her boyfriend's cock, eyeing both of them carefully.

- Modelled after yours? - she looked up, seeing a faint smile on his face, fighting with the overwhelming bliss of her caresses. - Come... come on, Miko... I'm not that big... - You're big enough for me.

She kissed him once more and reached to their night-stand for a pack of condoms.

- Now, we gotta put an extra armor on it... - Miko cooed, sliding a condom on one end of the dildo - And on your little warrior too...

When her fingers touched Hector's cock, she heard a soft whimpering, and when she looked up, she found her boyfriend giving her a begging frown, to which she only responded with an sigh.

- High Five, you have already given me one present, you don't want to give me another surprise one, do you?

She stressed out her words, drawing his sight to her underbelly, where she was dragging her finger. She could feel shivers on his skin, as her allusion this time reached him completely.

- Besides I'd have to wait nine months to actually get it, and we both know that pre-ordering SUUUUUCKS, and, well, we're not ready for it.

She took a quick glance at their small bedroom, from which they could pretty much see almost every other corner of their flat. A small pang of melancholy hit her, from which hector brought her back with another kiss.

- Don't worry, Miko, I'll gladly wait until we upgrade our rig.

He smiled and slid on the condom himself, right before he leaned between her legs to do one last thing.

- Come on, open that lootbox.

She giggled when she felt his fingers dance across her slit, as he taunted her, delaying her the pleasure. With his other hand on her thick thighs, he felt her impatience, as she tried to prevent her legs from thrashing against their bed, while hector kissed her through the fabric of her panties.

- High Fiiiive! - she roared, initially in annoyance, though her voice broke when his mouth touched her wet panties. - I don't know, maybe it will have better value when left in original packaging?

But Miko had enough. She grabbed the edges of her panties and straight ripped them apart, leaving Hector no choice but to dive into her wet, overflowing sex, to take the first lick of her arousing juices. His tongue lapped the eagerly, while his girlfriend narrated his progress with short moans and short jolts of her muscles.

Though Hector would love to feel the full force of her orgasm splashing against his face - which was only fair after he finished on hers so many times - he wanted to try the present, and so, while his lips caressed her folds, he brought the tip of the dildo to her butthole, first sending just a wave of warm air to eliminate the cold, alien feel.

Still Miko shivered when he pressed the tip of the rubber against her ass, and their eyes met, giving Hector a clear sign to follow. He pushed the fake cock further along, listening to the moan that escaped through Miko's throat. Knowing how delicate her other hole was, he was gently moving if\t back and forth, while his tongue licked her slit, though with each push, he slid it just a fraction of inch further, hearing the approval in her rising tone.

But at some point, Miko loudly announced it is time for what her present was supposed to be.

With her legs high in the air, resting on Five's shoulders, she grabbed the dildo, allowing herself to push it as far as she found it comfortable, while Hector lined up his cock with the entrance that overflowed with her juices and his saliva.

Another wordless nod, and the two began. As soon as Hector slipped himself inside her, Miko's legs tensed and curved, upon the presence of two cocks in her body. Hector was glad that they were doing it in the middle of the day; only so many times they could blame her moans on fans cooling overheating graphic cards...

- You okay, babe?

After the initial shock, Miko could only babble with parts of words, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue his gentle pushes. And with that, their bodies began rocking against each other, each push of Hector's also delicately impaled her on the fake dildo, and though the position would be otherwise slightly uncomfortable, Miko was on cloud nine, panting with her tongue stuck out, as the presence of twice as many lovers in her truly turned her brain to mush.

But she was conscious enough to demand more. Hector could feel her moving her ankles that would otherwise be kicking his butt to speed up, and he gladly fulfilled her wish, diving deeper into her, and letting her slide further onto his rubbery double.

With each thrust, Hector was pushing her limit further and further, until he embraced his dominant position and simply leaned over her, allowing his hip to simultaneously slam his cock inside her, and let the dildo fill her ass up. With last ounces of her strength, Miko, held onto to the rubbery cock, feeling as if she truly was sandwiched between two lover, missing the illusory Hector's breath and kisses on her neck, which he always left when he was taking her from behind.

And so when he leaned over her and placed a single kiss on her collarbone, Miko lost it, thrashing her body as double wave of orgasms rushed through her loins, much to hector surprise. He watched as his girlfriend melts in front of him, until she could move no more and let her arms and legs become limp, while her chest was rising up and down, in erratic, fashion.

- I take it that you enjoyed it?

She responded with a vaguely recognisable words, but she sobered up at once, when she realised that Hector hasn't joined her in post-orgasmic bliss.

- Oh, w-wait. You didn't... - Yeah, but don't worry...

Miko got onto her knees, which was easier said than done, with her legs wobbling. She discarded the used condom, grabbed a piece of paper to clean herself up after exploding orgasms, and faced the cock that supplied one half of her pleasure. But then, she put one more condom on the two-ended dildo, and slipped the rubber from Hector's cock to use it on the other end of her present.

- I want you in all holes.

And with that, Miko licked her lips, closed her eyes and took Hector into her mouth, while her hands aimed the two ends of the dildo to her two entrances,

They both knew that they won't last long. Hector was on his edge anyway, and Miko's sex and asshole were still quivering from recent orgasms, so any stimulation would drive her crazy. And indeed, as she bounced up and down onto the curvy piece of rubber, she would have been already howling with pleasure, if not for Hector's cock in her mouth.

Hector's watched as Miko's eyes widened and bulged under not one, two, but three stimuli. At the same time, she felt her holes contract around her new lover again, while a wave of Hector's cum flooded her mouth, giving her just a split of a second to take one last breath. His body shivered with hers, and ultimately, the over-stimulation forced her to bail out, letting last of Hector's climax cover her breasts, as she rolled to her back, once more thrashing from the amount of pleasure.

But this time, she had Hector's mouth and his kisses to soothe the fire that consumed her, and his pecks delivered in strategic places allowed her body and mind to return to Earth, especially when he gently cleaned her body with paper towels, peppering each inch of her skin with more kisses.

Soon, Miko was purring in satisfaction as her boyfriend made up for the gift mix-up with more of his tenderness, and she eagerly leaned up her butt against his member, to feel the familiar stiffness she felt when she cuddled with him before falling asleep.

- Mhm, I think I like that present of yours. - she turned her head to meet his tired eyes. - Glad I could fill your tastes.

He cupped her face and their lips met in a long, soothing kiss.

- And don't worry, I will get you the real controller. - Hector apologised - I shouldn't have been thinking just about.... you know, sex and all. - That's okay. - Miko moaned, nestling herself against his body - That controller has five different vibration modes, so I was going to bring it to the bedroom anyway.

Hector blinked.

- Wait, what. - Oh, yeah. It would have been a steal, since it would be a controller AND a vibrator. Best deal ever.

Hector gulped, as realisation dawned on him.

- A-And did you discuss it with Zahra...? - Ssh.

Miko put a finger over his mouth.

- Don't spoil what I got for you... And her.

============

A/N:  "Dual Play" is based on name of "Dual Shock", a default PS controller, its shape is based on the "boomerang"/"banana"-like prototype of PS3 controller, and its duality is a nod to Joycons.

[princessselene126]

Wedding of the Era 5: Ribbon

I’m not going to lie I feel a little disappointed with how this part of it turned out, which sucks because like... this is the whole point of this fic. Maybe I’ll feel differently later? And if I don’t I’m going to rewrite it. So... you’ve been warned I guess. I think I’m going to do one more part to this fic. 1025 words of actual Kaider wedding.

Wedding of the Era Masterlist Masterlist

Cinder took a breath to steady herself. All their friends had gone down the aisle already. The music changed, signalling it was time for her and Thorne to follow. Stars above, why did she suddenly feel sick to her stomach? She wanted to marry Kai, she shouldn’t feel like this.

Thorne glanced down at her and squeezed her forearm gently. “You okay, sweetheart?”

It took her a few seconds to realize he said something to her and another few to comprehend what he said. “Thorne, I swear, if you call me that one more time I’m going to--”

“There she is.” His lips pulled up into a smile and he gently squeezed her arm again. “You ready? Or do you want to keep standing here the whole afternoon until pretty boy realizes that you’re glued--soldered?--to the floor and can’t get married.”

“No. No, I’m good. Let’s go.”

She didn’t make a move to start down the aisle though.

“Cinder,” Thorne said.

“Hm?”

“I’m not going to let you trip. I promise.”

She swallowed, tilting her head up to look at Thorne. The parts of her crown that dangled from her head brushed against her cheeks from the movement. He sounded more sincere in that sentence than he had the entire time she’d known him. She tugged at the hem of her sleeve out of habit, then she nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

Finally Cinder made herself take a step and then another and another. The more she walked the easier it got. When her eyes landed on Kai standing at the end next to Prime Minister Kamin and all their friends, her lips pulled into a bright smile.

The ballroom was immaculately decorated in deep crimson and shimmering gold silks. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, flickering from the light of the candles inside. Red roses sat in tall vases along the aisle.

This was actually happening.

She and Kai were getting married.

It didn’t matter that the entire country was watching. It didn’t matter that the world was watching. It didn’t matter that all of Luna was watching. It didn’t matter that this was going to be the most broadcast event of the century. All that mattered was that she was about to marry one of her best friends, the man she loved with all her heart, with all their friends next to them.

True to his word, Thorne didn’t so much as let her stumble. When they reached the end, Cinder turned toward him. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek--the first and only time she’d ever do that.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He gave her a wink. “My pleasure, Cyborg Girl.”

Cinder managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. She turned to Kai, smile still on her face, and took his hand. 

He pressed a kiss on her knuckles then led her up the few steps where Prime Minister Kamin stood. On the way, Kai grinned and whispered, “He’s never going to let go that you kissed his cheek, you know.”

“I know.”

It felt like the ceremony took ages. There were several traditional things they had to do that, frankly, Cinder didn’t really understand. She’d only been to one wedding before and that was Scarlet and Wolf’s. Needless to say that wasn’t a traditional ceremony. 

Her retina display kept pulling up information on the ceremonies, but she blinked them away. 

Even though it took over an hour, Cinder couldn’t help smiling at Kai the entire time. They were finally doing this. After two years of coping with a long distance relationship, and another year and a half of wedding planning, they were finally, finally getting married.

They reached the last step and because she was Lunar, they incorporated some of those traditions in too. Kamin wrapped a thick gold ribbon around where Kai and Cinder’s hands were clasped together and said something about the bond it created.

If Cinder was honest with herself she was only half listening. She was more focused on the way Kai was looking at her. It was like they were the only two people on the planet in that moment.

Cinder repeated after Kamin.

Kai repeated after Kamin.

And that was that. They were married. Husband and wife. 

The last words had barely left Kai’s lips before Cinder pulled him toward her with their hands still tied together and kissed him deeply. And aces if that wasn’t the best kiss of her entire life... Yes, every time she kissed him, it was wonderful, but something about this one meaning they were officially spending their lives together made it so much better.

Kai smiled against her, pulling back slightly and pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you, wife,” he murmured.

“I love you too, husband.”

Cinder didn’t think it was possible, but Kai’s smile turned even more cheesy. There was  light in his eyes that made her heart flutter. He looked, dare she say, blissful.

Kamin untied the ribbon around their wrists and they turned to face the crowd of people watching.

“Thorne didn’t let me trip on the way here so I’m counting on you to not let me trip on the way back,” Cinder said as they prepared to walk down the aisle.

“Your Majesty, I would never.”

This time she didn’t hold back her eye roll. “I’m not a queen.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re an empress now.”

“Not until tomorrow night.”

Jacin cleared his throat. “Are you two gonna get moving or are we going to stand up here all afternoon?”

If Cinder didn’t have to behave because the entire world was watching, then she would have flipped him off and told him to shut the hell up. But the world was watching. Turning her attention back to Kai she squeezed his hand. “Shall we?”

He leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. “I’m ready when you are.”

Cinder took a breath and then they started walking back down the aisle. Foreign dignitaries and journalists and politicians smiled and clapped for them, but her attention was all on the man beside her.  

Well… Kai and not falling on her face.

[hydrangeasimagination]

Make A Move

Soulmate AU - where in which you're connected with your soulmates via a red string that gets tighter when you get closer to them 

The above is actually the quirk of this Reader! It also gives them the ability for their soulmate to see the string as well.

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto X Gender Neutral! Support! Reader

Summary: Since the beginning of the year, Shouto known that you were his soulmate. He knew that you had an idea as well, considering how often you pass each other in the halls. But he completely ignored it and you, focusing solely on his goal of showing his father his worth. You didn't ever confront him about it. It was only after the Sports Festival that he finally came to see you himself and apologize for his behavior.

A/N: Shouto and you are both first year students, you work in support. Also the lyrics in Ariana Grande's song inspired me sooo this happened. This is connected to The Brother’s Three and the reader here is his S/O!

[Katsuki’s Fic: Unforgettable]

[Toshinori’s Fic: Smoke]

[Izuku’s Fic: Someone You Like]

"oh baby, look what you started

the temperature's rising in here

is this gonna happen?

been waiting and waiting for you to make a move

before I make a move..."

Delicately skating your fingers across the metal under your hands, a little tune being hummed from between your lips. Eyes trained solely on the piece of machinery as you continued your work of welding and soldering everything together. A single bead of sweat dripping over your cheek and dropping from your chin.

Todoroki gulped, feeling his left side heat a bit. Whether it be from nervousness or the rather enticing sight of you, he didn't know. He admitted to himself that he found you attractive, string or not, even before he was enlightened by Midoriya.

Right now, he shouldn't be staring at you and trying to understand how someone could look so...

Hot.

He had to speak with you.

If only to understand why you didn't try and pursue him immediately, perhaps apologize that he didn't even acknowledge you at the beginning of the year. Even as you passed each other in the halls, you would wave and smile at him.

It was only recently he returned those gestures.

"Oi, what're you doing just standing there?" A voice called from behind him, making him jump since he didn't hear a thing.

Shouto turned around to see the grinning face of Hatsume Mei, raising her eyebrows at him.

She nudged him forward, making him stumble as she cheerily chirped, "Come on now, stop standing around... I'm sure you got something to say, I don't think waiting around is gonna solve a thing."

With newfound confidence, he nodded slowly, trying to negate the feeling of his tongue becoming like lead in his mouth. He turned and slowly walked into the workshop, forcing his mouth open and calling to you.

A turn of your head made him meet your eyes properly, allowing him to look into them. The warmth that filled them made his chest ache dully, the smile you gave was a true knock-out. A smile that left him weak in the knees and his cheeks burning up.

"Todoroki - san!" You greeted as you turned off the torch and removed your protective goggles.

Hopping from the stool, you plucked your gloves off and just tossed them onto the table. The scarlet string wound delicately around your pinkie, falling to the floor and tied tightly to his. His lungs gently constricted at the kindness you displayed him despite his previous coldness.

He nodded slowly at you before he cleared his throat and softly spoke, "Please, 'san' is my father."

"Alright then. Shouto, what is it you need?"

Biting gently at his bottom lip, despite the elation he felt from hearing his first name on your's. He took in a slow breath before he bowed to you, his arms at his sides.

His eyes drawing to the floor as he spoke, words coming out in a stream. "I have to apologize for how I treated you. It was wrong of me to act so coldly to you even though we were strangers, you cannot control the fact you are my soulmate. Nor could you control that what happened even before we knew what we were."

Eyes shut tightly, he expected some type of retort that the apology wasn't good enough. That he was as ice cold as his quirk and so on.

But the sweet note of laughter that met his ears was surprising, even more so the feeling of you gently patting his head. Shouto rose from his bow to look at you, his chest aching again at the sight of your soft eyes and smile.

"You don't have to apologize." You simply said as you moved your hand, shrugging your shoulder slightly, "You don't owe me an explanation or even an apology."

"But I -" He tried to protest, brows pinching together.

Pressing your finger against his lips managed to silence him to allow you to speak, but also managed to fluster him enough he was not sure he'd be able to continue to speak.

"You are not obligated to want to have me or even speak with me even though I am your soulmate. I wanted to wait for you, I knew already that it was clear you didn't want much to do with me at the beginning and I wasn't going to push. I'm not going to force myself into your life when you weren't ready or unwilling to have me... It's enough that you came to me now, Shouto."

His eyes were wide as he stared at you in amazement. His lips parting gently once you removed your hand, he felt a warmth spread through him like no other.

The gentle light in your eyes filled Todoroki with such happiness that he thought his heart would burst.

He smiled, a smile so big that he felt his cheeks hurting, his father's words of ignoring his string melting somewhere into the back of his head.

It was hard not to like you, not while you were so nice.

So patient.

Caring.

Warm and open.

Someone perfect for him.

BONUS:

He gave a soft chuckle, "The universe really knew that they were doing, giving me someone like you."

"Soulmates are soulmates for a reason, Shou, we're meant to understand eachother." You laughed, nudging him playfully in retort.

"S - Shou?!"

"AH, YOUR LEFT SIDE!"