#And then she tries to figure out how she can make this frozen hell less horrible

[the-scungles-of-crungles]

I'll have this neat idea that people like but then I can't elaborate on it because like most of my story ideas actually involve monster (or at least monster-adjacent character) x human romance plots and I feel like y'all would be so disappointed in me lmao

Sorry if you guys were interested in some of my ideas I can't let this see the light of day

[thetriumphantpanda]

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’. 

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do. 

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things. 

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking. 

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head. 

“No, why?” 

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.” 

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you. 

“They’re delicious.” 

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you. 

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist. 

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.” 

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?” 

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.” 

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good. 

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise. 

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body. 

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease. 

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table. 

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly. 

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little. 

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?” 

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.” 

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.” 

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” 

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up. 

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Running away?” 

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.” 

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks. 

“If I have to.” You answer back. 

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.” 

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office. 

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations.  Your bag sits on the floor next to it. 

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk. 

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.” 

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.” 

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself. 

“You looking that sinful.” 

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?” 

He smirks, “As real as you and I.” 

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip. 

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it. 

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed. 

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to? 

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?” 

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath. 

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though. 

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.” 

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up. 

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing. 

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.” 

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?” 

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.” 

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug. 

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.” 

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life. 

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.” 

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks. 

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it. 

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain. 

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough. 

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly. 

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him. 

“Your mouth.” 

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties. 

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.” 

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.” 

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?” 

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” 

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge. 

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head. 

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue. 

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?” 

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk. 

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good. 

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun. 

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again. 

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.” 

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.” 

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now. 

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster. 

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.” 

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright. 

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?” 

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.” 

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse. 

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. 

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man. 

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.” 

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?” 

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on. 

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel. 

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.” 

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.” 

[vlrghoes]

What Once Was | Chapter One

author’s note: I edited and proof read this after coming back from the club so if you see something wrong don’t be afraid to point it out as I’m quite friendly anyway!

I still don’t know if I like this chapter but overall I’m just shy about sharing my work because I’m hyper judgmental of my own work but I still wanted to share this with you guys anyway.

The chapters after this will be set a few years after this (which will be clarified in the chapters)

I’m English so if anything is wrong in terms of America and the health practices please forgive me!

I’m literally yapping now but I do want to say that I can’t promise chapter two will come in under 2 weeks as I’ve just finished my law degree and landed my dream job (not related to my degree) and I start training next Sunday and it’s for 5 weeks, really intense and with exams almost every day and if I mess up I lose my job. (Not sure if it’s obvious what my job is but anyways.) Also it’s my birthday on Wednesday and I’m celebrating Thursday so less time to write!

cw/tw: death, pregnancy complications, heavy angst, references to mental health and body dysmorphia/body image issues

word count: 4370 (I never usually write more than 2k so this is weird for me)

tag list (ask to be added): @trippinsorrows @cyberdejos2 @maeb99 @southerngirl41 @callmekayd @trentybenty @tian-monique @rose-bliss (if your name isn’t in grey, it’s not letting me tag you but I’ll try in the comment section)

masterlist

“You’re choosing that stupid title over your family again.” Ayanna’s voice cracked, the finality of her words hanging in the air as Joe stood frozen, his guilt palpable and his resolve wavering. She had spent all day running around the house and decorating for their special day. She spent hours preparing a nice steak dinner for the two of them, however it had been left untouched, the wait quelling her appetite as she now only felt sick. The dress she picked out now felt too revealing, no longer complimenting her body. Suddenly it clung to all the wrong parts and accentuated her weight gain, making her feel like a whale instead. The candles in the house had melted to the point where the fire had flickered out and the playlist she had queued just sounded like white noise at this point. Nothing matters anymore because Joe is late, late home once again and Ayanna is reaching breaking point. She spent hours waiting for him after she prepared their dinner, but all the effort didn’t matter anymore because instead of romance, the air was filled with tension and dread. “You know they’re due any day now, Joe how could you do this to me, to us. How can you still be wrestling so soon to my due date?” She said, her voice filled with emotion as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to cry, she had cried so much this entire pregnancy and she felt miserable. Instead of having that pregnancy glow like Rihanna, she had the life sucked out of her and she just felt lifeless.

“Look baby, I'm sorry.” Joe began, trying to figure out mentally how to get himself out of the trouble he was in. It wasn’t his fault, the media day for Wrestlemania was meant to finish much earlier but they took longer to set up, in turn making Joe’s interview (which was last) late. He had intended to be home earlier but it just seemed like the universe had other plans.

“Don’t even bother” Ayanna sighed, playing with the ring on her finger which now felt like it weighed a tonne. When they first got together, he gave it to her as a promise he’d marry her and whilst he did deliver on that promise, since getting pregnant and no longer being able to join him on the road she wondered if it was worth it sometimes. It’s not that she didn’t love Joe, hell sometimes she thinks she loves him too much. However she now isn’t sure if he loved her more than that title. He used to be so romantic; he’d bring her flowers every single day no matter what, he’d take her on dates, even small ones that weren't as lavish and she loved it. But the more he climbed up the ranks of WWE, the less the romance was there. Then shortly after he became champion everything stopped. Their marriage hit the rocks as he was never home and he started to miss things such as birthdays and christmases, so to save their marriage Ayanna gave up everything and joined him on the road. It was all going great until her later stages of pregnancy which stopped her from travelling with him but the most important thing for Ayanna was that he never missed an anniversary.

Well that was until now.

“Do you even know what day it is?” Ayanna asked, her voice quiet as she watched his mind tick, the cogwheels visabilly spinning with his face scrunched up in confusion, dull eyes squinting until it all finally clicks and he looks at her horrified. “You know, as bad as you’ve been lately, I always used to say ‘at least he’d always remembered our anniversary’ but it seems I can’t even say that anymore.” She spits, her heart breaking as the words leave her mouth.

“Yana” he started, feeling dizzy as he watched her flinch, a look almost of disgust flashing within her eyes. The nickname didn’t bring the butterflies it used to bring anymore, instead it forced a swell of emotion that made her feel like she could spew her guts any second. She used to look at him in adoration, but as the years passed the glimmer in her eyes decreased daily until they were fully extinguished. “Baby things are going to change after wrestlemania, I promise. Just one more match, after this I promise I’ll ask Vince again for some time off, I’m sure he’ll give it to me this time.”

The both of them knew that he was telling her what he wanted her to hear, the same conversation being repeated so many times to the point where they felt like they were in limbo. The last time Joe had asked, Vince told him he couldn’t have time off as he was their top star and Joe simply didn’t ask again. He always seemed to lack a backbone in situations that require him having one, but is happy to have a backbone and be stubborn when he doesn't need to be. Ayanna was exhausted, carrying one baby is hard enough but of course Joe carried the twin gene so she was carrying two instead and it felt like they were draining the life from her body. “I just want you to be present Joe, I feel like a single mother despite being married.” She pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. No one ever mentioned how lonely pregnancy is. She had lost many friends as she couldn’t go out to the club or drink anymore which meant that she spent days on end staring at the four walls of her bedroom watching the time pass as she waited up for Joe to come home. She sighed, tears threatening to well in her eyes which made her mentally curse. Stupid baby hormones. “You made the same promise last time, I don’t think you understand that one day I may not be here. You’ve missed so much already and you will never get this time back.��

She waited for Joe to say something, anything that could save the situation and at some points she felt like he was. But he’d then swallow the words back with a bitter taste and instead just looked at her in defeat. Nothing could save Ayanna for the despair she felt and she felt stupid even having this conversation with him. Instead, she gives him one more look over, a silent plea to say something or do something but the window of time closes as soon as she opens and she ends up turning on her feet and going to bed. She kept her room door ajar, hoping he’d come and knock, give her the tight hugs he used to give her and shower her in kisses and apologies but it never happens.

Joseph himself didn’t know what to do. They had the fairytale romance all their friends envied when they were younger, he was the promising D1 football player and she was a shoe-in to be a future Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. They looked good together and spent years in their honeymoon phase, yet somehow as they grew older the fairytale had started to wear off. He looked around the room with a frown, his stomach twisting and his heart aching as he realised exactly how much effort she had put in for their anniversary dinner and in that moment he felt like a horrible person. He knew he needed to pack as he was leaving at 5AM to get a jet for Wrestlemania but a large part of him wanted to go and fix the situation. But he knew nothing could ever fix it. They promised each other that they’d never go to bed without resolving an argument but that promise got broken several times to the point of which it no longer had any weight. So instead, Joe went into the walk-in closet and packed his things, believing that there’s nothing he could do to fix the situation.

That night, for the first time in their marriage the couple slept in separate rooms. Joe in the guest room tossing and turning in his own guilt, whilst Ayanna tried her hardest to muffle her sobs in the pillow. Her tears soaked the case through and her heart shattered in the pieces.

The next morning, Ayanna woke with the worst headache. Her head was pounding so intensely it hurt to open her eyes, however she put it down to the fact she spent all night crying and didn’t sleep. She called out for Joe, hoping he’d be home still so they could make up after their argument and wish him luck tonight as no matter what she loved him and didn’t want to continue on with another argument. But as she made it to the guest room, she realised it was too late and he was already gone. Her heart splintered like fragile glass, and she wept until the well of her tears ran dry, leaving her hollow and desolate.

“Fix your face uce.” His cousin Joshua says with a nudge. Joe having a face like a slapped ass and a snappy attitude had become too common these days and the twins, Joe’s only confidants, knew exactly what was going on. They’d grown up with Joe and practically spent their whole lives with Ayanna through her association with Joe, meaning they had been privy to almost all of the couple’s relationship issues.

“He’s right, every day you walk around here with the face you used to have when my dad used to whoop us all for breaking the window with the football.” Jonathon adds on, a small chuckle escaping from his twin brother as the memory of that day flashes through him. The twins and Joseph had grown up together due to their parents living next door to one another. Rikishi, the twin’s father and Joe’s uncle would say the twins were a bad influence. However everyone who knew them knew that it was actually Joe, he always managed to get away from it all by snitching on the boys before they could save themselves. Which is what led to all of them getting chased with a broom stick as children after Joseph broke the window as they were all playing football, but instead of admitting it he blamed the twins whilst the twins blamed him so the punishment was collective.

“Are you fighting with Yana again?” Joshua asks, earning him a dirty look from both his twin brother and Joseph as the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. The two of them somehow manage to fight more than Joshua and his baby mother, and the pair of them were never even together, just a stupid one night stand.

The pair wait for Joseph to say something but it becomes more and more obvious that he has nothing to say, but the situation is clearly bothering him. Jonathan, the self-labelled “mature” one out of the twins, felt it was best to offer some advice, even if Joe didn’t ask. “Man, I don’t know what’s going on but I know you two have been together since you were both thirteen, whatever it is you’ll make it through it. You guys have always found a way.” The advice, albeit sweet, doesn't really make a difference for Joe. But thankfully he gets called for his press conference anyway so he doesn’t have to engage in the conversation further and he shifts from vulnerable ‘Joe’ to the formidable ‘Roman,’ like a Jekyll turning into Hyde, shedding his worries and fears to become the stoic, unyielding figure everyone dreads.

Joe never really cared for press conferences, however since he was the face of the company he was obligated to fulfil every duty in his contract. He was always used to giving the cookie cutter answers to the usual questions like “what are your expectations tonight?” and “how do you feel about your opponent?” However, he gets caught off guard when someone in the crowd asks "with the demands of your career, how do you balance your professional and personal life, especially with your wife expecting?" The question then places a pang of guilt in his stomach once more as he’s forced to remember their argument from last night. He really wanted to speak to her before he left but he didn’t want to wake her up and his flight was too early for him to stay. He took a thought and tried to compose an appropriate answer before taking a small breath.

“It’s a challenge, no doubt.” He began, slightly sounding defensive whilst making sure to try and make eye contact with the journalist in the crowd to make sure he appeared engaged in the topic. “But I’ve always believed that if you’re committed to something, you find a way to make it work. My family understands what this career means to me, and I make sure to be there for them as much as I can. After tonight, I’m looking forward to some quality time with them.” The words feeling hollow knowing his home life isn’t in a good place.

At home, Ayanna rubs her temples trying to quell the headache that has seemed to intensify from earlier on. She sits on the sofa, her head spinning from the pain when a sharp, twisting pain in her abdomen causes her to shift positions. “It can't be.” she mumbles, it was too early. The twins were not meant to be due yet, she had an entire plan for Joe’s mother to come down and stay in the guest room and help her for the last week of her pregnancy up until the babies hit six months, this can’t be happening. Her phone lay on the coffee table, just out of reach. She stared at it, debating whether to call Joseph or not. But he was probably in the middle of his press conference. She didn’t want to worry him—she could handle this.

She bided her time, until the pain suddenly intensified, radiating from her abdomen up to her chest. Ayanna’s breath hitched, panic creeping in as she realised something was seriously wrong. She forced herself to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her. The room spun, and she fell back onto the couch, gasping for air. She gave in and phoned Joe first, his phone going straight to voicemail as she thought before hanging up, her hands trembling as she dialled 911.“Please” she began with a gasp, struggling to even breathe, “I think something’s wrong I'm pregnant, and I—” Her voice broke off as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time as she screamed, the sound of her pained yells bouncing off the walls.

Joe, pleased with his answer to the first question, felt like he was in the clear and that would be it for the interview but then another question hit him. "There have been rumours that you were considering taking some time off after this match. Can you confirm or deny that?" The question made him feel hot under the collar, he didn’t want to give a definitive answer as Vince had already turned down his request and he didn’t want to put himself in a position that gets him in trouble. He hated it about himself and in a way he also hated Vince for putting him in this situation, however deep down he knew that he was at fault. No matter what, he was a coward and tried to avoid rocking the boat at work but all that has done is cause problems in his marriage.

He once again flashes that million dollar smile that he knew the ladies loved the most before positioning his answer. “Right now, I’m focused on tonight. Whatever comes after, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’ve heard the rumours, but my priority is to go out there, put on a hell of a show, and take care of business. The rest will fall into place." He was cool and composed, everything a champion should be, however, the answer in itself was very evasive. It was as though he had mastered the art of saying much while revealing nothing, leaving everyone guessing what truly lay beneath.

Ayanna’s vision blurred as she tried to focus on the operator’s voice. “Stay with me, ma’am, help is on the way,” the voice said, but Ayanna could barely hear it over the pounding in her head. She doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as the baby kicked wildly inside her. Her thoughts were a jumble of fear and regret. She should have told Joseph—should have insisted he stay home. But it was too late now. The darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer, and she knew she was running out of time

Joe looked at the crowd, wanting to go backstage and get ready for his match, a sigh of relief leaving his body as he’s told this is the last question of the conference. "Any plans to celebrate after the match, or will you be rushing home to be with your family?”

Joe smiled, the question feeling so bittersweet as he’d love to have Ayanna in the crowd like she usually is tonight, but that isn’t the case. "We’ll see how the night goes. My family’s always been my anchor, so I’ll be getting back to them as soon as I can. But first, I’ve got to take care of business in that ring."The reporters nodded, satisfied with his answer. Joseph glanced at the time—just a few more minutes, and he could get back to his routine. But he had no idea that his world was about to shatter.

Ayanna’s strength was fading fast. She clutched her phone, the operator’s voice a distant echo in her ears. “Hold on, ma’am, the paramedics are almost there,” but Ayanna’s world was already slipping away.

The last thing she felt was the sharp pain in her head, then—darkness.

The crowd was electric as Joe stepped into the ring, his face stoic as he played with his wrists to loosen them up. The glamour and feel of Wrestlemania never gets old, but he stayed focused, his mind locked in on the match and his eyes focused on his opponent. He couldn’t afford any distractions - not tonight.

The bell rang, and he moved with precision, every punch, every kick calculated. He could feel the weight of the championship on his shoulders, the expectations of the fans, the promise he had made to himself to be the best. Minutes felt like seconds as the match intensified, the crowd on their feet, chanting his name. With a final, devastating move, Joseph pinned his opponent to the mat. The referee’s hand slapped the canvas—one, two, three.

The crowd booed as Joseph was declared the winner, his arm raised in victory, gutted that their golden boy Cody Rhodes had lost the title. The championship belt was handed to him, and he held it high, basking in the glory of the moment. For a few seconds, everything was perfect. But beneath the cheers and jeers, he felt an uneasy feeling run through him, it was almost as if his body was trying to warn him that this victory came at a price—one that would haunt him long after the spotlight dimmed.

After the match he walked backstage, sweat dripping down his face but a victorious smile plastered on his lips. Fellow wrestlers patted him on the back, congratulating him on another win, another title defence. He had done it again—proven why he was the best. But it didn’t feel the same without Ayanna there to give him a kiss and tell him how proud she was of him. He longed to have her sweet floral scent dancing though his nose, he simply missed her and he was going to make it his mission to call her immediately and apologise and make it up to her. In fact, he was going to ask Vince again for time off or just go to Hunter and get him to explain to Vince.

As he headed toward his locker room, he saw Vince stood them with a solemn expression. His heart dropped, usually if Vince looks at you like that you’ve done a terrible job and you’re about to be pulled off TV. “Joe, we need to talk,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.”

Joseph frowned, still riding the high of his victory. “What’s up, Vince? I’ve got some celebrating to do and I need to call my wife.”

Vince hesitated, his face pale. “Joe, it’s Ayanna… She had a stroke during labour. She had tried to call you as she was going into labour but you were in the press conference.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. “What?” he whispered, his heart plummeting. “No… no, that can’t be right.” His mind scrambled to reject what he’d just heard, clinging to disbelief as though it could keep the truth at bay.

Vince’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he continued, “I haven’t heard anything else, however I would suggest that you take the jet and go to the hospital now. We will cover you in the post match press conference.” The championship belt slipped from Joseph’s grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The noise of the backstage area faded into nothingness as Joseph stood frozen, disbelief and horror washing over him.

Joseph’s heart pounds as he bursts through the hospital doors, the sounds of WrestleMania’s victory still ringing in his ears. But as he’s confronted by the white walls of the ICU, his triumph feels meaningless, distant. Joseph’s hands trembled as he pushed through the hospital doors, his mind a whirl of fear and denial. He moved as if in a trance, barely registering the people around him as he demanded to be taken to Ayanna.

“Where’s Ayanna? Where are my kids?” he demands, his voice edged with panic.

The receptionist’s eyes flickered with sorrow, looking around in desperation as she did not want to be the one to be here when the news was broken to him. Luckily for her, the doctor steps forward. “Mr. Anoa’i, I’m so sorry. Your wife suffered a massive stroke shortly after going into labour. By the time she got here, there was nothing we could do to reverse the damage. Her brain activity ceased before we could save her.”

Joseph’s breath catches, his world starting to crumble. “What… what do you mean? Where is she? Can I see her?” His voice wavered, a desperate plea for a reality that was slipping through his fingers.

The doctor hesitates, his tone measured but heavy. “We had to make a decision quickly, Mr. Anoa’i. We kept her on life support long enough to deliver the twins via emergency C-section. It was the only way to save their lives.”

For a moment, Joseph just stares, unable to comprehend the words. “You… you kept her alive just to deliver the babies?” His voice is raw with disbelief and rising fury. He couldn’t believe what was being said to him, Ayanna being reduced to a baby making machine made him feel beyond sick. They could’ve had another baby, but he could never have another Ayanna. “She wasn’t just some fucking incubator! She was my wife! She is my wife, why didn’t you save her?!”

The doctor’s eyes hold steady, though full of sympathy. “She made that decision herself. Your wife signed an advanced directive, instructing us to prioritise the babies if anything went wrong. She knew the risks and chose this course.”

The words hit Joseph like a sledgehammer. Ayanna had known this could happen and made a decision without him—a decision that had ripped her from his life. Anger surged and then ebbed away, leaving a hollow ache where it had been. He had spent his life with her, and now, learning to live without her seemed an insurmountable challenge, a cruel twist of fate.

“Where are they?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, eyes vacant.

One of the nurses gently guides him to the room where the newborns lie in their incubators. They’re tiny, fragile, and perfect. But as Joseph looks at them, he’s overwhelmed not with the joy he expected but with a deep, unsettling mix of sorrow and resentment. They’re here, alive and breathing, but Ayanna is gone. She sacrificed herself for them, and Joseph can’t help but feel a stab of resentment toward these tiny beings who cost him everything. He stands over the incubators, his hands shaking as he touches the glass. The twins stir slightly, their small cries echoing in the sterile room, but all Joseph feels is an unbearable, suffocating grief—and an anger he can’t reconcile. Whilst he was angry at the world, he was also mad at himself. What sick bastard resents an innocent child? He thought, trying to force the feeling out of his heart, but it was no use. He just couldn't stop himself being filled with disgust when he looked at them, especially as they both look exactly like her. It felt like some cruel punishment from the universe for his wrongdoing.

Finally, he forces himself to pick up one of the babies, holding the child close to his chest. The warmth of his newborn is supposed to bring him comfort, but instead, it feels like a weight pressing down on him, reminding him of what he’s lost. Tears blur his vision as he collapses into a nearby chair, the sound of the twins’ cries filling his ears. But instead of the joy and love he once imagined, all Joseph can feel is a hollow emptiness and a dark, creeping resentment that only deepens his guilt. The nurse gently touched his shoulder, but Joseph barely noticed. He sank into a chair, the twins still wailing in his arms, as tears streamed down his face. The world had stopped making sense. He had won the match, but in doing so, had lost everything that truly mattered, as if triumph had come at the cost of his very soul.

[ethanmorales]

Misconceptions

Part 1

Part Two - Frost

Pairing: Ethan Morales x fem reader 1.2k words Tags: @arij3lly @hitoshislut @bjrmaybank @ghostfaceorgirlfriend Warning: swearing

Ethan's POV

Miss u

He hesitated, phone in hand, over the send icon. Then shook his head.

still avoiding me?

He held the back button until it was gone.

hey stranger

Nope. He sighed audibly.

After deliberating for a few seconds, he gave up.

"Fuck this," he threw his phone on the bed and walked away from it.

He couldn't figure out why it was so damn hard to send this girl a stupid text. He didn't know why he wanted to text her in the first place.

They hadn't spoken in over a week and whenever he saw her, she would quickly walk in a different direction, steering clear of him. He kept telling himself the only reason it upset him is because he's not used to girls dodging him. It was always the opposite. He would be the one that ghosted them as soon as they got all clingy and emotional. But Y/N hadn't said anything to him, she just stopped talking to him and stayed away.

It was driving him crazy. He hadn't kissed her since that night outside his window. That was the last time they spoke as well. He knew she had been upset that night, but she never told him why. If he hadn't been upset as well, he would have pushed her harder for an answer. Though in all fairness, he was afraid of what the reason was. Y/N had a way with words. She was blunt. Always honest. Most times when she dared throw some of those truths in his direction, it would rile him up.

She noticed things nobody else did, so he tried damn hard to not show her much.

Thoughts of Y/N halted as he heard the familiar shouting outside his bedroom door. His parents were at it again. He rolled his eyes and walked over to his desk, grabbing his earbuds. Then he went back to his phone and opened Spotify; played all his music on shuffle. He fell back on his bed and closed his eyes.

He was on the third song when he heard a crashing noise cut through his music. He took his earbuds out and rolled off his bed, ran to his door and stepped out.

Another crashing noise; broken glass.

"Gooddammit," he muttered under his breath. He ran down the hallway and took a right to get to the kitchen.

Glass pieces scattered the kitchen floor. The flowers that had resided in the now broken vase lay on the bare tiles as well. He saw his parents in the corner. A broken plate on the counter next to them. His mom held a saucepan in her hands, her grip so tight her knuckles turned pale. His father stood less than 3 feet away, hands clenched. He had no doubt that he was the one that threw the vase.

"Are you guys done?" Ethan's voice was eerily calm.

Both his parents turned to him; their faces etched with surprise as they didn't notice him there before he spoke.

His mother scrambled around the frozen statue that was his father and walked carefully around the glass, reaching for him.

"Oh honey, I thought you were out. You're never here on Saturdays." She placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the scene.

"I wonder why..." he mumbled, low enough to not be heard.

"What was that hun?"

"Nothing, ma. I'm leaving now. Can you guys not kill each other while I'm gone?" He looked her in the eye, saw the sadness, but mostly, how tired she looked. She smiled through it.

"We're fine, baby. Just a little disagreement." Her voice was light, but her words were tight.

Ethan sighed. "Call me if you need me."

She had guided him back to his room, so he was able to pick up his phone from its place on the bed.

"I'll be fine. You know he's not going to cross that line." She was trying to reassure him... or herself. Ethan wasn't sure.

He nodded and placed a kiss on her cheek. As he was walking out the door, he spoke loudly, making sure his father would hear.

"If he ever hurts you again, I'll kill him."

-

Once outside his home, he looks back to the front door for a moment, then sighs.

There was a time he would never have left while they were like that. Hell, there was a time he was afraid of even going to school because he thought he would come back to some tragic crime scene.

He would skip classes often to come home to check on them. His grades dipped. But his reputation had suffered more. Teachers took a strong dislike to him for being late often, being "irresponsible" and always missing important tests and assignments. They didn't know that his life revolved around making sure his parents didn't kill each other. Nobody knew. So before long, he decided to own what people thought of him. It made him feel like at least he was in control of something.

He was good at it too; being an asshole. He had no problem screwing around with anyone or with screwing anyone over. Most times, he could convince himself that he enjoyed it. Being this way. But when he was this person with y/n, well, it made him feel like a piece of shit.

That's why he wanted to see her, talk to her, kiss her. Just be around her in any way that he could.

Because it's been a long time since he was around someone that made him feel anything remotely positive. Or anything at all.

He unlocked his phone and typed in the text box.

Meet at our place?

Read. He waited a few seconds, but she didn't respond.

He typed again.

pls?

K.

He smiled.

-

Y/N POV

I've been avoiding him for at least a week. The idea of having any kind of conversation with him was nerve-wracking. The sun was setting on the horizon; the sky turning into what appeared to be a watercolor painting, still all I could do was fret.

I stood under the robust oak tree that resided at old Woodridge Park. No one really comes here anymore, not since they built the new park two streets down. Aside from this tree, there wasn't anything remarkable about this place. It had long been since it was considered a park at all.

After five minutes, I spotted him in the distance. One hand shading his eyes from the sun as he looks around for me. I open my mouth to call for him at the same time as his eyes find me. He waves with his free hand. I slowly lifted my hand to wave at him, confused.

He seemed happy to see me, if the huge smile across his face was any indication. He even jogged over to reach me quicker. I frown at this.

“Hi.” he says as he reaches me, stepping under the shade of the big tree with me. Before I have a chance to reply, he pushes me forward, caging me with his body against the tree trunk. I gasped in surprise.

“What are you d-” He cuts me off with a quick kiss.

I gawk at him, even more confused than before.

“We haven’t spoken since last week,” I say.

“I know," is his response and then smiles, "I missed you.”

I roll my eyes. “You always say that".

“I always mean it.”

To be continued...

___________________

A/N: You are all awesome for reading and supporting part 1 of this and showing me that you liked it. It means more than you will ever know. Like I said before, I have not written in so long, so I was very insecure about writing again. So thank you for giving me the confidence to keep writing more of this. See you on the next one! xx

[shipthelambs]

I love the idea that the Park and the other Slow Horses have one address for Lamb, but Catherine is the only one who knows where he really lives and neither of them ever talk about. Just for emergencies. Can totally see her knowing the code for his phone too. Just in case.

In my head, she’s almost certainly his next of kin too.

We put this joint drabble together

Thanks for inspiring us

😁👇

Part I. (Me)

It had been almost three months since Jackson Lamb haggled for and won the punishment-detail department of MI5, became king, and, for reasons unknown to a soul, brought Catherine Standish with him. The Aldersgate office—never before used, except for made-up legends—was assigned to them.

Every day, Jackson Lamb stayed in his office. Smoking, drinking, sleeping, resting, doing nothing. Apart from occasional visits from Catherine Standish, who wanted to know, for example, what her job actually involved. At the beginning, he told her it was all about making his tea, opening his mail, and sorting the files. But the kettle was faulty, he had only received two letters so far, and there were no files yet. Eventually, her visits became less frequent as he let her know each time how unwelcome they were—or rather, how unwelcome she was.

That morning, she was particularly bored, so she risked invading his den again. She woke him by placing a weak, lukewarm cup of tea on his desk.

"When are we getting more people in? I feel like we should have more work."

"I am working, Standish."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Working?"

"Yes, hard at it. Can’t you see?"

She paused. He was supposed to be one of the best they had. Maybe this was the way he operated—solving mysteries with his eyes closed.

"A desk is a dangerous place from which to watch the world?" she asked softly, as if in understanding.

"Fucking hell. You’re quoting le Carré, Standish?"

She shrugged.

"Christ, don’t tell me you’ve actually read it."

"I have."

"Before or after you joined the Service?" He seemed genuinely interested now, sipping his tea.

"After."

"I suppose that’s slightly better. No false hope..."

"Charles always said we needed to know le Carré to understand Second Desk’s discourse—"

"The old bastard’s?"

"He quoted le Carré in every meeting he went to."

This was already one of the longest conversations they’d ever had.

"No book could illustrate the outlandish shit we go through, Standish."

"You know John le Carré was actually a spy."

" Then he definitely left out half the outlandish shit he went through. We go through."

She didn’t say anything, just folded her hands, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You shouldn’t read crap like that. It’s not real, you know. But I suppose with the drinking you’ve always struggled with reality, haven’t you?" The first proper taunt of the morning.

"What do you recommend I read, then?"

"Try a fucking cookbook, so you can learn how to make decent tea—"

"The kettle isn’t working properly." She tried.

"—and do it in your own fucking office."

She sighed and hurried out before he decided throwing the mug at her might be a good idea.

The following week, Jackson Lamb got mail—his third letter overall. It was from Mills & Boon, a confirmation for a monthly subscription to their bodice-ripper novels…

She had to read it several times to believe it. Being thorough, she noticed something else: the home address in the letter didn’t match the one in their system...

@aladio-milhomes part II.

The feet were firm on the pavement, but her head felt light.

Her heart though, was right in the midst of it all, literally and figuratively. Racing from the exercise and her sudden decision, but also steady because of the frozen fresh air.

Perfect balance, if it wasn't for all the batty ideas that were crossing her mind.

He did that on purpose? Was it meant for her?

And why on earth would he want her to know something like that?

It hadn't been at plain sight, but easy enough for her to see since she was the one to receive the post and sort it —between the two of them—, not his usual complete spook secrecy either.

She knew almost no personal data was truthful in his file, but she wasn’t expecting this kind of intel, nor she expected to find out this way. She had a subscription letter between her hands, a book subscription. Or was it? This certainly had to be a mistake, or some kind of joke.

Deep down she'd been forever curious about what kind of place a creature like him could inhabit. She always thought it would be the complete opposite of Charles'. And she wasn't wrong.

It was already dark when she went out for her unexpected afternoon stroll.

She didn't see where she was going, nor didn't she need to. Her body was an autonomous being, even though her eyes were looking inwardly.

She felt grateful that since she'd arrived at that corner not a single drop of rain fell, for she had been standing there for quite some time now. Although, on the way here, some wind had shoved water under her umbrella, and her hair was still wet. She really should be going.

He probably wasn't there anyway, but she didn't want to raise suspicions amongst the neighbours either.

Just in case.

However, Lamb had a way to learn about everything, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to justify herself under these circumstances. He wouldn't trust her ever again.

And now that she thought of it, he probably had one of the neighbours trained, with that inherent charm of his, to alert him if something weird like this happened.

Despite her serious inner monologue, her head felt uneasy with giddiness. The kind you start feeling when certain animals flutter in certain organ.

Silly woman. What a daft thing to do.

She took in all she could, while imagining how it would look on the inside. No doubt the same as his office, filthy, smelling of tobacco and sweat and hasn't changed a single wall, stinking of the 70s, like his oily hair. She chuckled.

A car passed her at quite a speed, startling her from her thoughts. At the same time, a glimpse of a very brief orangy blazing spark could be seen on the middle window of the first floor.

Catherine looked back at the house to get a last look, probably for the last time too, and retraced the path that led her there.

He watched her go from the darkness of his room. With a small smile tugging his mouth, full of smoke. "Clever girl."

@onesimus42 part III.

Catherine eyed the object lying in the middle of her desk with suspicion. It certainly wasn’t a style that she would have picked out for herself. Truth be told, it was a bit of a stretch to use the word style and this object in the same sentence. It actually looked enough like one that he wore that she examined it closely determine that it was in fact not pre-worn by himself. After ascertaining that it was at least clean, she took an experimental sniff. It smelled faintly of cigarettes. So, it had been with him, but not worn by him at least.

Turning the bucket hat over, she tried to determine some reason that he would have left this gift on her desk. Did he want her to go undercover? As what? A middle aged man with poor taste? Although deep down, she knew the reason. He had seen her. He had seen her closely enough last night that he knew her hair was wet. That meant there was a good chance that he’d followed her after she left the corner down from his house. She had to admit that if he hadn’t wanted her to notice him following, she likely wouldn’t. With his over-developed sense of protection over her, he’d probably wanted to make sure that she made it home safe.

Now, he wanted her to know that he’d seen her. Did he want her to confront him? Probably not. If he had he would have just called her into his office and given her a good bollocking. It wasn’t like he hadn’t before. No, he just wanted to know that she knew that he knew. Honestly, following his logic made her head hurt.

She was tempted to throw the ugly, bucket hat in the bin. On the other hand, it was a sturdy hat at least. It would keep her hair dry even if the wind blew it in under the umbrella. No need to throw away something useful. To that end, she hung it on her coat rack. At times during the day, she would glance at it and smile softly to herself. She thought, maybe, he might just be a little proud that she had found her way to his house. Not that he’d ever admit it, and she would certainly never mention it.

PS:

next of kin, all goes to her in the will — That’s all 100% true.

We know, they know, he knows, even Diana knows

[god-mouths]

Scott pilgrim is a modern retelling of Dante’s Inferno, and I want to talk about it

Hi . Brought this up very briefly a while ago but i rewatched spto with friends last night and got my gears turning. I don’t usually make posts like this but It’s been on my mind and I want to share. Here we goooo. Under read more becwuse I wish not to disturb my beloved friends with a long post

First off, let’s start with theeeee obvious.

Say hello to our Dante and Beatrice.

I don’t think I need to go into this first one much, but Scott and Dante are of course the heroes(term used lightly. Scott is not a good person and honestly neither was fuckinh Dante of all people) of their respective tales, going through hell and back to win over this ethereal, “too good to be true” heavenly dream girl. Scott even dies to get her in the end, like Dante venturing down into the depths of hell, dying and then ascending to get to Beatrice. If I wanted to really stretch it I could say the dreamscape is a sort of purgatory but I don’t think there’s enough evidence for that one.

Next,

Our Virgil. What’s up, Wallace.

In the comics Wallace acts as a sort of guide to Scott. We end up seeing him less as the comic progresses, which I find lines up with Virgil having to part ways with Dante before he enters heaven. Not much to say otherwise admittedly. Love you though buddy

Now for the symbolism of hell. Since there are nine circles of hell, it obviously can’t match up one to one with the exes unless we add some of scott’s relationships to the mix, which both doesn’t make sense, causes this analysis to get stupider than it already is, and leaves some characters left over that already don’t fit in to these parallels.

Luckily, however, there are The Seven Deadly Sins. Going to be going in sin order rather than ex order here

Firstly,

MATTHEW PATEL - PRIDE

- the first boyfriend and the first sin very conveniently line up, which threw me off track because I thought the exes would go in the order of the sins. Enyways

- in the movies, comics, and shows, he is insanely flashy with how he presents himself. It’s the entrance, the dances, the expressive clothing (“that guy’s dressed as a pirate” “pirates are in this year!”, modifying Gideon’s suit to fit his color palette, the outfit he wore while kicking gideon’s ass). The theatre kid in him essentially

- taking the lead in the musical Knives and Stephen presented him with— they knew how to cater to him, because he views himself as the coolest bitch on the planet. Which honestly he kind of is but don’t tell him this

- so headstrong in his pride that he fucks up. Repeatedly. First to get killed, too cocky, spends all of gideons money “I’ve lost billions!”

- believes he’s entitled to Ramona as soon as he wins the fight against Scott

GIDEON- GREED

- I don’t feel like I have to explain this one but I will because I enjoy him greatly

- CEO, billionaire. Money money money mr rich

- literally “owns” or tries to excersize ownership Ramona in the comics and movie as if she belongs to him— with the glow, or with the chip implanted into her neck with his logo on it.

- has all of his past girlfriends cryogenically frozen. All for him none for anyone else. They should only love meeeeee.

- wants everything for himself in excess. Women, fame, money. Almost considered pride for him also but greed is more fitting

KEN AND KYLE- ENVY AND LUST

- holy shit this image has five pixels so sorry about that I’m on my phone and Google images sucks

- anyways of course they’re sharing sins

- not much to say here as they don’t show up much, and it’s easy to make the argument of envy or lust for ANY of the seven exes. These two were the hardest to figure out. Not as sure on Envy, but can definetly advocate for lust— playing around with women, thinking they were playing around with Ramona.

TODD- GLUTTONY

- this one was the easiest one for me. Like come on

- breaks vegan edge in the comics, movie, (vegan police), and show (Wallace breakup event 2 dead 5 injured)

- his whole persona revolves around food. Of course gluttony doesn’t always mean food but here it most definetly equates. Even when he’s vegan he always makes it a talking point of how superior he is to others because of this fact, only for it to blow up in his face when his enjoyment of non vegan food catches up to him.

ROXY- WRATH

- a very angry girl to be sure. Takes her emotions out using violence, attacking Ramona the first time she sees her, even though she is going out of the order of the league and supposed to be attacking Scott (although I guess that point is moot because they all think he’s dead at that point)

- “I’m bi-furious” line from the movie deserves a shout out here I think

- (completely justified) Unending rage against Ramona in the show, and scott in the comics and movies. She is PISSED.

Lastly,

LUCAS LEE- SLOTH

- also one of the easiest ones. Could have made an argument for pride (tries to prove he can land a sick ollie so hard that he dies) or greed (movie star who lives in huge mansion), but sloth ultimately fit the bill the best.

- even before we get into his reoccurring theme of “whatever” in the show, it’s pretty evident in the comics and movie that he doesn’t care enough to extend effort. He tells Scott he’ll leave him alone and say his ass got kicked if Scott gave him a twenty dollar bill, sends his stunt doubles to fight Scott in his stead.

- onto the show, he lets his stardom slip out of his fingers with his attitude, not even caring to read or memorize the script anymore (“is that why half the lines in your last film were ‘Let’s Party’?” “I uhh, read the title.” Etc). Just spends all his time messing around and skateboarding. The title of his episode is literally “Whatever”. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to care. Which. Respect I guess

Extra; the exes ARE referred to as “the seven deadly chumps” in the show.

In conclusion;

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Asylum Challenge: Day 12

(Nothing to see here - just Vlad very excitedly browsing through Trendi by the looks of his current get-up)

This was the first of three days where Wicked Whims... kind of got out of hand until everyone figured out what they were into, I guess 🤔. Also I realised that I'd set the lot to the FLIRTY trait for one day and forgot about it which was... a chaotic combination to put it mildly.

So while nothing explicit will be shown, just something to keep in mind, I guess?

Look at her, look at her, she's no good at yoga. I had considered a Spa Day pack aspiration, since Lilac will likely need the inner peace going forward, but then I saw how grindy they all were.

So... Lady of the Knits!

Level One: Humble Knitter

❌ Knit for 5 Hours (2/5) ❌ Start 3 Knitting Projects While Inspired (0/3) ✅ Knit on a Rocking Chair

No, she isn't Whims related below the waist - it's just flesh toned underwear. (I had to take a second look too.)

Another early riser (easy for someone who doesn't need to go to bed) was Vlad. Along with Rory. The two... well, one occult heavyweight, and one tissueweight, actually managed to have a civil moment, perhaps with music loving Rory appreciating Vlad's skill on the piano.

Oh wait, L. is up. There goes the ceasefire, if not the entire neighbourhood.

Meanwhile the Roswells had a moment over breakfast. Could a GOOD traited Sim and her EVIL husband ever make their marriage work? Now that they're played Sims, apparently not.

While Lilac took a THOUGHTFUL SHOWER to get those creative juices flowing (takes on a whole new meaning with this mod 😬), Jacques woke up in a sad mood thanks to those voices in his head.

Clearly whatever leftover gourmet dish that Raj made the night before was the only cure.

Meanwhile Ted apparently tried to enlist Vlad in order to sway Meredith over to their EVIL ways, but as Vlad was seemingly more interested in having Ted's opinion on his potential Trendi buys, it wasn't working. Thanks to their POSSESSED late night strolls and chats, Ted is the one person in the household other than Lilac who has a positive relationship with Vlad.

As unlike L., for the most part Vlad is actually trying to be cordial to most of the household, the Watcher does lowkey feel sorry for him about this.

THOUGHTFUL SHOWER did the trick, and Lilac was able to start her three inspired knitting projects! Since that glitch where you can't resume projects is still hanging around, she wasn't able to finish them, but we'll take any loophole that we can get.

Rory started a new freelance career as a programmer (great way to work on her handiness too being a werewolf I guess 👍) while Meredith apparently didn't get the memo that On Wednesdays, We Do Crafting Hour.

Lilac kindly pointed out that mixology with the globe bar just over there would count as a creative skill. Perhaps as a result of her less than stellar relationship with Ted, Meredith appears to have decided that yes, actually a drink sounds real good right about now.

Ted literally could have gone and done anything else in the house, but instead he goes and plays Road Warrior or whatever near where Rory is trying to work, and freaks out because he's next to a transformed woof-woof. I don't think that Rory's the problem here...

Raj seemingly did not appreciate the Watcher telling him to make himself useful and to take out the trash.

It must have frozen over in Tartosa and the gameplay hell that is the My Wedding Stories pack, because L. was actually nice to Lilac! Oh right, the Watcher got her to 'scope the surroundings,' and Lilac is apparently 'very attractive' to her too.

The Watcher set the one person in the household who doesn't need to eat on the task of cooking dinner, mainly so that he's close by so that I can cancel his autonomously eating it when he has the vampire weakness where food makes him sick. Because he has a knowledge related aspiration, he's actually at a decent culinary level.

Looks like L.'s niceness allotment for the year is about to expire.

Ted and Jacques were impressed with Raj's alleged unaliving of a workplace rival, offered to recruit him to the round table of villainy. He said that he's good, thank you.

Yup, L.'s niceness streak aged like warm milk. And a reminder that she thinks Lilac is hot too!

While Vlad wisely stayed out of things by doing the dishes (he acquired the NEAT trait at some point, which is very useful to have in the household's vampire), Rory must have taken issue with L.'s meanness, because next minute they went outside, Rory was walking in with a spring in her step and L. was bruised and battered.

Just how long is it going to take these apparent occult geniuses to learn not to forbidden word with Rory?

Lilac must have been especially appreciative of her shieldmaiden in furry armour, because well. This was the one animation it was safe to show you. In fairness, it's a pretty cute one.

In less exciting news, Lilac is now on the second stage of the Knitting aspiration.

Level Two: Thread Setter

❌ Achieve Level 4 of the Knitting Skill (3/4) ❌ Knit While Listening to Music ❌ Sell a Knitted Object on Plopsy

My head is feeling full and gluggy so I may post the next couple of days in a few hours.

[yandere-fics]

ooooh i love those "darling wants to break up" scenarios... how would the sisters react to their darling wanting to end stuff?

♡ How They React To Their Darling Trying To Break Up ♡

♡ There are plenty of valid reasons to want to break up with Skye, namely her emotional unavailability. It gets frustrating after awhile that she is never willing to be vulnerable until you are first, she's had this issue with previous lovers, however you are the first who she has been yandere for so while with past ones she would always break it off before they could, with her she was just desperately hoping you were not actually going to do it while being unable to will herself to do anything to fix it and once you do dump her, she grins and bears it trying to will herself to not care and not be emotional about this. ♡

♡ She tries very hard to ignore it and seem like she could care less but everyone can tell that she's practically a walking corpse. In the end Sophie has to step in and perhaps the basement for you so that way her sister can be happy again. Skye falls into a delusion after you leave her with her three extremely delusional sisters whispering in her ear that they know you didn't mean it because you and her were the best couple they'd seen in awhile. Skye is the most lucid sister but her sisters help her to lean into her instincts and so by the time you're in her basement, she sees absolutely nothing wrong with her actions anymore. ♡

♡ Sophie would stop talking and just stand there, not leaving your room or house for an hour, just thinking about what the hell you just said. You can scream and yell at her to leave or you can even apologize for what you said and take it back but she's still frozen in place. Her house really wasn't prepared for this yet, she didn't want to have to kidnap you when she was still living with Skye because there's only one basement in the house and she doesn't want to take up the basement when her sister might need the basement too but Sophie can't risk letting you roam in her house until she makes you realize how relationships ought to be. It's a blessing for her that you don't realize everything she's thinking otherwise you'd already be calling the police on her. ♡

♡ It takes her a bit to come to a conclusion about what to do with you, while she doesn't like it she'll just have to lock you in your own apartment with nothing in it for you to escape so that way she has time to prepare the basement for you. This will have to be a rushed job, she stands guard near your apartment even though she's pretty sure you'll be asleep for the next few hours after she knocked you out, meanwhile she's on the phone with her sisters directing them to everything they need to get. Ellie is hacking your wishlists online to use Sophie's crime money to spoil you, Darla is spreading rumors you left town temporarily so no one will report you missing, and Skye is cleaning the basement so everything can be loaded in there. ♡

♡ She just simply laughs. You probably did it in private to spare her feelings since she didn't seem harmful enough to need to do it publicly. She was a bit clingy sure but your girlfriend was by no means dangerous, right? If she was then there's no way she'd be nearly as popular as she is. Still you weren't expecting her to laugh and turn to you, "gently" reminding you that she could ruin your entire life just out of boredom one day so it's not in your best interest to leave. People would automatically assume the fault lies with you if you two were to split so she's just protecting you from making a really bad choice. Anyways what do you want to do tonight? You two should go on a date. ♡

♡ If even her threats didn't work then she'll just have to figure something. She won't make good on her threats, instead she'll complain to all her friends about how she just got so busy on exams and then some random bitch acted like she was cheating on you so you had a little misunderstanding and the poor thing is just so scared of you hating her and she just doesn't know how she'll win you back. And thus begins the entire schools campaign to get you back in Darla's arms, and it will work eventually. It likely won't even be a week until you cave, she's very sure about this and after that she's going to make sure you're tied to her forever. ♡

♡ Hah! As if you could break up with her. You're literally trapped in her apartment from the moment she decides she loves you so if you do decide to try breaking up with her, just to see if that will work she will simply start biting you everywhere so it's undeniable that you are with her. How could you break up with her when you are covered in her marks? If she bit it then it's hers and therefore you are extra hers because you have been bitten literally everywhere. You're so stupid for thinking this would work. She has to do all she can to remind you that you are hers. You can never doubt it again. She knows she's not the best partner but at least she's trying why can't you understand that? ♡

♡ She's going to take a couple days off of work the first time you say it to show you how good of a girlfriend she can be and she'll also start making herself work quicker, not bothering to eat and neglecting her health while she's working so she can spend more time with you from now on. She's been trying to get a promotion but that can wait until you understand that she's doing all this work to make up for all her faults. You wouldn't want to be with her if it wasn't for all her work, she knows this for a fact so please just let her do her best to become worthy of you. ♡

[cyberpunk-red-archive]

Buckshot Cyberpsycho

[an original short story in the cyberpunk universe]

TW: violence

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[Back to masterpost]

It didn't start off bad. Fin can't even tell for sure when it started, but it did start at some point, and it only got worse from there. He didn't question it at first, Kei's anxiety, her irritability, her complaints about everything feeling out of her control. He didn't think twice about her spending her cut of a gig's eddies on getting even more chrome, it made sense to him, even though he didn't particularly like it. They weren't going out drinking together as much as they used to, but that's because Kei spent more time training. It took Kei lashing out at him while they were out practicing shooting for him to start suspecting something was off.

He had a new shotgun, one that he hadn't held or shot with before, and he was trying to figure out how to take the cartridge out, when he accidentally dropped it and it shot a stray bullet. He laughed it off, and expected Kei to tease him, but she got very angry at him instead.

“Are you stupid?” she had yelled, getting in his face. “You could've fucking killed us! You incompetent fucking bastard.”

“It was a mistake!” Fin had tried to say, but she pointed her pistol at his face and he remained frozen.

“Mistakes don't bring people back from the dead! If you're incompetent, then you're fucking useless to me. I spent all this time trying to teach you, at which point am I supposed to just cut my losses?”

And then she stood there, with a loaded gun pointed at Fin's forehead. With the level of disdain and anger in her eyes, Fin half expected her to shoot. But she didn't, she eventually went back to shooting at the targets in the field, and pretending Fin isn't there. He left, and she didn't invite him to come shoot with her again. But it didn't make sense to him. Fine, he can be cocky, but he knows when he's bad at something, and he's a pretty decent shot with a shotgun. Kei never complained before, in fact she seemed to quite enjoy shooting with him, so this gave him whiplash.

But it didn't stop there. If it had, he might've excused it. Maybe she was having a bad day, she's been placing a lot of pressure on herself since Bugger got hurt a couple of gigs back. But Kei started getting controlling, started chewing him and Bugger out for the food they eat, for how much or how little they work or train. Fin didn't argue with her, not until she started yelling at Bugger for not being done working on her pistols, which she had given to him only a couple of hours ago. She was getting in his face, baring her teeth, and Fin got between them.

“Kei, you're out of line,” he had told her, and she punched him in the stomach, hard. He fell to his knees, nearly threw up his breakfast, while Bugger tried to get Kei to leave.

“You think you can just barge in here and tell me what to do, motherfucker?” she screamed, while Bugger kept her at a distance from Fin. “You're not one of us! You're a fucking wannabe we picked off the street out of pitty!”

“That's enough! You need to go cool off, Kei,” Bugger yelled at her, and it was maybe the first time Fin had heard Bugger arguing.

“Sure, pick her fucking side, see where that gets you!” she replied, before leaving in a huff. And that stung. But it also confused Fin a lot. Kei was acting nothing like herself, and that's when the thought first started creeping in from the back of his mind.

Cyberpsychosis.

He had heard about it before. Hell, he'd even studied it in class, and he's been unfortunate enough to witness at least one cyberpsycho in person. But Kei? No, Kei couldn't be a cyberpsycho. Sure, she's lashed out a couple of times, but she still acts like herself most of the time! Granted, a quieter, more suspicious, less fun and excited herself, but still. She still tells Fin fun stories about her first time holding a pistol while Fin paints her nails, while they both sit on her bedroom floor like a bunch of schoolgirls. But then Fin jokes about her reaction to him dropping the shotgun at the shooting range, and she's suddenly screaming bloody hell and trying to claw his eyes out. But it's still Kei, right? It has to be.

Kei barely talks to anybody anymore. She spends all her time that's not on gigs either boarded up in her room making incomprehensible theory boards about all the people she thinks are conspiring against her, or out at the shooting range. This has to be something, maybe it's mania. Fin hopes it is. Because the alternative is too terrifying to consider.

Fin is making himself coffee. It’s still early morning, still dark out, as all winter mornings are. He sits in front of the counter, mindlessly tapping his fingers on it as he waits for the water to boil. He thinks he hears something behind him. He turns around, and Kei is in the doorway of the kitchen. He's startled, he jumps a little, but it's nice to see Kei out of her room. She stares at him. He hasn't turned on any other light except leds above the kitchen counter, and he hasn't put on his mirrorshades yet, so Kei's eyes look like two bright circles staring at him from the darkness. It unsettles him a little.

“Morning Kei! Want me to make you some coffee too?” he asks.

There's a bullet hole in the counter, right next to him.

Why is that there?

Why did he just hear a gunshot?

Kei is pointing a pistol at him.

Shit.

He jumps out of the way of the next shot, and lunges at Kei, trying to wrestle the gun out of her hand. They both fall back on the floor in the living room. Another shot goes off, landing in the ceiling. Fin tries to call Bugger, and he picks up quickly.

[What noise?]

he asks, but Fin talks over him.

[Kei's cyberpsycho! Help!]

he sends through his agent. She tries to roll, the gun falls from her hand, flying across the room. Her and Fin Keep on wrestling, but she's clearly stronger. She yells as she pins him to the wall by the throat with one hand, the popup gun in her other arm at his forehead.

“Kei…” he tries to say, his hands grabbing at her hand.

He closes his eyes

A loud bang goes off.

The blood feels warm. It drips down his face. Why is he still conscious?

Kei's hand slides off his throat.

He opens his eyes.

He inhales sharply.

Kei is missing most of her head.

Her jaw hangs open. Her eye stares blankly.

Red. Red. Red. Dark red. Warm. Still exploding out of her head.

Her limp body falls on top of him, like some sort of twisted embrace.

He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe. He doubts he can.

Is this shock? Is this what shock feels like?

He should note this feeling in his journal later.

Solid chunks of something are sliding down his face. They’re warm. There's bits of bone hanging. The lights are on now. He can see everything.

He doesn't dare look anywhere but the one blank spot his eyes got fixed on.

He doesn't dare breathe.

Kei is warm.

Bugger is talking to him?

It's muffled.

He should probably…

He looks up at Bugger.

“Kid?” he says quietly. Fin opens his mouth to reply. He doesn't say anything.

Bugger is holding a shotgun. His shotgun, that he was working on upgrading.

“Fin.” Bugger says. “We need to…” his voice breaks and wanders off.

Shake it the fuck off, Fin thinks to himself. He grabs Kei's shoulder, pushing her off of him. She falls with a thud, like a ragdoll. It won't be long before rigor mortis sets in and she becomes completely stiff. He looks at her and finally manages to breathe out, before he takes in a long, shaky breath. He turns around to the other side and hurls the contents of his stomach on the floor. His throat burns.

“You…” he tries to say, and his voice cracks. “We could’ve… I could’ve done something…”

“Done what, kid?” Bugger stands there while Fin tries to pick himself up from the floor.

“I don’t… I don’t fucking know!” Fin yells, looking at Kei again. He tries to stand up but his knees give out the second he puts weight on them. Bugger puts the shotgun down, leaving it leaning on the wall, approaches him and tries to grab him by the arm. “Don’t touch me!” Fin growls at him, and he retracts his hand. “Maybe there… there must have been something I could’ve done there must have been…” his words are quick and shaky, he doesnt recognize his own voice anymore.

“She was cyberpsycho, kid.” Bugger speaks quietly, his eyes fixed on Kei. “It was her or you.”

“Then why the fuck did you choose me?” Fin snaps at him, his voice a whisper but his tone bitter.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Bugger raises his tone. “She was already gone.” his voice breaks, and desperation seeps through his words. “Should I have let her shoot you? And then what? She’d go on a rampage until the maxtac fuckers gun her down? Would that have been a better way for her to go? What was I supposed to do, Fin?”

Fin doesn’t reply. He looks at Kei. The popup gun in her arm is still out, in the middle of the gore on the floor. He briefly wonders who’s gonna rip it off of her body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna be sick again,” he finds himself saying as he finally manages to get up and stumbles towards the bathroom. He barely makes it to the toilet before he starts gagging. His stomach is already well empty, so he dry heaves for a bit before he starts throwing up bile. When he’s done - at least he hopes he is - he gets up and catches a bit of himself in the mirror.

He’s all covered in blood. His face is more blood than skin, there’s nearly dried chunks of Kei’s brain hanging off his hair and his face, his clothes are soaked with blood. He feels sick once more.

He doesn't think himself as someone who has a weak stomach for gore, but this is a whole other league. It’s one thing to see a random goon’s brains splattered on him, it’s a whole other to see Kei’s. This whole thing doesn’t feel real.

He doesn’t attempt to clean himself, that’s gonna be a Herculean task that he leaves for later. For now, he walks back into the living room. Bugger is sitting on the couch, he doesn’t acknowledge Fin’s return. Fin sits next to him. He reckons they’re both very aware of the corpse sitting a few meters from them.

“I should’ve said something earlier,” Fin breaks the silence. His voice is low, hoarse, his vocal chords burned by stomach acid.

“We both should’ve,” Bugger says soberly.

“I tried so hard to convince myself it wasn’t cyberpsychosis.” Fin laughs bitterly. “Fucks sake, I’m a medic, I should’ve known. I should’ve done something.”

“It was too late, kid.”

“Then I should’ve done something earlier.”

Bugger sighs. He puts a hand on Fin’s shoulder and Fin flinches a little.

“We both could’ve done better. But it’s not your fault that I had to shoot her, Fin.”

“But you still blame me, don’t you?”

Bugger retracts his hand. He’s quiet for a while. When he finally speaks, he sounds hesitant.

“I got no reason to blame you.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t,” Fin replies. “It’s fine, I get it. I’d blame me too.”

“It’s really not your fault.”

“Yeah, I got you. We should probably take care of the mess.”

Bugger shakes his head.

“She’s my shot. I’ll take care of it. You go clean yourself up.”

“What are you gonna do with the body?”

“Incinerate her, probably. She wouldn’t want me to spend eddies on some fancy crap.”

“Gonna sell her chrome?”

“Probably should. Go clean up, kid. I’ll handle it.”

Fin throws Bugger a look before he gets up from the couch. He’s ought to shower, he goes to grab some clean clothes first, and grabs his mirrorshades while he’s at it. He doesn’t know it yet, but that conversation he’s just had with Bugger might be their last. He’ll leave their apartment that night, he’ll leave Bugger a message, grab his stuff and go.

[Hey man. Today’s been a lot for both of us. I’m leaving for a while. Hit me up when you feel ready to talk. Or don’t. I get it either way.]

Bugger will have replied relatively quickly. Maybe part of Fin will hope he will try to chase him down, to convince him to come back. But Bugger will have only said three words, before he never messages him again.

[Good luck, kid.]

[rosethreeart]

School of Punk Au fic :}

In which Arthur tries to make a really shitty decision and his eldest brother has to talk him out of it.

Angst :)

“Arthur, where the bloody fucking hell do you think you’re going?!” Alasdair shouted.

Arthur winced as came to a halt when he heard the sound of his eldest brother’s voice. He felt frozen in place, fear and guilt consuming his entire being. The only thing that got him to move was the harsh pull of his brother’s hand on his shoulder to make him face the other. His body, despite its stiffness, didn't fight against his forced movement.

“Arthur.” His brother said sternly.

The front porch needed to be swept, he thought to himself.

“Arthur.” 

He should have worn his thick winter jacket instead of his go-to leather one. The cold breeze of winter stung his eyes. He refused to believe or acknowledge any other reason for why his eye’s were watering.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Alasdair's words felt sharp despite his soft tone. 

Arthur’s throat was tight and his hands began to shake. This wasn’t how it was supposed to play out. He wasn't supposed to get caught. He was supposed to get away, live his life in denial, and pretend he wasn’t the worst person in the world until he died old and lonely. 

Alasdair held up his shitty letter filled with even shittier excuses, “I mean, are you bloody fucking serious? You’re just going to leave? Just like that? In the middle of night no less,” He let out a sharp and bitter bark, “Honestly, I don’t know why I expected differently from you…”

“I don’t know why I— you did either…” Arthur replied in a defeated manner, ignoring that Freudian slip of the tongue. 

“What changed?” His brother asked him tiredly. 

For the first time in what felt like several days, Arthur met his brother’s eyes, “Have you seen the way she looks at me?” he let out a laugh that was much more reminiscent of a sob, “She looks at me like—like I’m everything to her…”

“Arthur, You are everything to her!” 

“That’s the bloody fucking problem!” Arthur said in hysterics, “I mean look at me! I can’t— I’m not—”

“You’re not what, Arthur?” Alasdair said exasperated.

“Good enough!” He placed his head in his hands and drew a shaky breath, before pulling them apart to frame his face, “Abigail deserves someone better than me. I mean, what the hell kind of parent could I possibly be? I’m terrified…I’m terrified of—”

“Terrified of being like our father?” Alasdair said, finishing his younger brother’s statement.

Arthur just sobbed and nodded in confirmation, “I mean, wouldn’t our lives, especially yours, be so much better if he had left? What if she ends up feeling and thinking the same thing?”

“Arthur, you're not him. You aren’t going to be like him. I can see the way you look at her. You’re right, she does look at you like you’re her everything, but you look at her the exact same way.”

Arthur’s eyes widened,”I—”

“Yeah, you can be a shithead, and prick, and an absolute idiot,” Alasdair began not bothering to hide a small smirk on his face at his youngest brother’s displeasure,”But, I know you have a good head on your shoulders. It’s selfish, but it’s good. Don’t go.”

“I don’t know what to do, Alasdair...” Arthur admitted.

For the first time in years, Alasdair had seen a look of vulnerability and fear on the younger man’s face. All of a sudden, it was like Arthur was a small child again afraid of the passing thunder storm. 

“You’ll figure something out, Arthur; you always do.” The eldest said, “but for now let’s get you back inside, you’ll catch a cold standing out there.”

Arthur nodded letting his head drop as he was shepherded back into the warmth of the house. 

A light from down the hall turned on catching both men’s attention. Another figure appeared. It was his second eldest brother, Patrick, who seemed to be holding the source of all of Arthur’s grief, stress, and joy: Abigail. 

Patrick stumbled into the living room, “What the fuckin’ hell are you arses doing?”

Before Arthur could finish an embarrassing amount of stuttered and half finished sentences, Alasdair replied nonchalantly, “Having a small chat, nothing too big of a deal.”

Arthur hid the surprise he felt, he was sure his brother would have ratted him out at a moment's notice. He also didn’t fail to notice the sound of paper crumpling from behind the older man. 

“Can’t you shitheads wait till morning?” Patrick asked, rubbing his eyes with his freehand.

Arthur lost interest and focus on the conversation that his two siblings began to hold. Instead, he looked at the small little figure resting peacefully in his brother’s arms. He didn’t bother to try to hide or prevent the silent tears that ran down his face as he reached out for the little one. Wrapping his arms around her, he brought her to the crook of his neck and held her tightly.

‘His brother was right,’ Arthur thought to himself, ‘he was an idiot’. The realization that he almost walked away from her, made him loudly sob and collapse to the floor.

 He didn’t register the fact that he was being led to the couch. He didn’t register the comforting and soothing gestures and words coming from his siblings. He didn’t register the fact that he had awoken his other brother who had come down stairs to see what the noise was about. Nor did he register the soft blanket being draped over him or the scent of tea from the cup that was placed on the coffee table in front of him. The only thing he could focus on and feel was the warmth of his daughter who, despite the commotion, continued to sleep peacefully in his shaking arms. 

An idiot he was indeed...

[spotsupstuff]

Hows Nish n the gang doing in your post mass-ascension off the string au?

there's so many aus by so many people for the canon iterators with this premise that i haven't thought about what would be happening with them in my stuff gjklsdmcksdklg i figured everyone else has it covered enough i guess

HMM... do i have something that would be 100% canon if i ever tried poking the canon Iterators with th- yes Suns is a fucking Dead (sayonara, cunt)

aight joking but their chances of legit survival are pretty low. might actually let them go offline but before that i Would rather like for them and Pebbles to have a conversation. so Pebs can yell at them for being a horrible mentor and sibling cuz i'll never have enough of Pebbles hating on Suns. he is So valid to do that, go child i love you

Nish is going to come out of his stuffy chamber and into Risio and yell into the sky out of pure joy, definitely. then proceed to get snatched by a vulture and next figure out how to get Unsnatched by a vulture very quickly in the midst of shitting himself silly. next thing on his to-do list would be throwing himself into a bog

oh! with Tinktink/Sparrows giving a solid place for the au in the timeline, this would happen before Hunter would be sent out. so Nish would be making that journey *with* his bewoved scug daughter n since he'd be the one carrying the neuron, Hunter might not even end up with the Rot! so Those two are okay, gods bless ough <3

they make their way first to Pebbles n Pebs would be already off his string and probably very much frozen on what to do now, more or less stuck in his chamber still. the father-daughter duo enter, Nish gets to yell at Pebs, Pebs gets to have his well-deserved emotional breakdown, Nish is a good elder brother so he thinks on it a lil n figures that holding onto this bitterness over going over and hugging Pebs is a Grade S bullshit and from there they make their way to Moon

and revive her together

which like... Shit that's gettin me good.. they do it together.....

cue confused to hell and back Moon, grateful Moon, and hugged Moon. both of these two dumbasses would hug her so hard, good stars above

they proceed to figure out how to help her out with her memory problems and how to help her get off her umbilical arm too and for some time they'd be hanging around in the rock siblings' facilities to figure out how to be proficient at surviving (thank you Hunter)

meanwhile Wind is probably stuck admiring her own city (not too eager to go outside into the violent winds) and Innocence is figuring out how to be a proper Australian while hunting shit with her cyan lizard pack. she's havin a blast and when the main trio comes to find her she will have that survival camo markings on her face (mud), torn clothes and going "OOGA BOOGA HOOOOOOO" while waving her spear around

Suns just lying facedown in his chamber that's it. that's all they do. maybe visit Solis and have one fuck of a depression fest before going back to their chamber to lie facedown again

[shinyhappybaubles]

watched

taxi driver (dir. martin scorcese, 1976): gorgeously shot, misanthropic, bleak as hell. I went into this ready for it to be the progenitor of a ton of those anti-hero/anti-villain pieces where a person gets mad or is mad or becomes mad, goes after everyone who's hurt him (because it's so rarely a woman).

instead, I got a treatise on the way masculine listlessness when combined with a need to Do Something, can lead to violence. travis bickle is a loner, an insomniac, probably a vietnam vet, and desperate to have a purpose in life, to achieve something. he takes up driving a taxi to help with the insomnia, but all that gives him is almost a form of sleepwalking, driving through new york and unable to figure out how to relate to the people around him. when he does finally make a connection with a woman he likes, she turns him down (my dude, a porno? really?? for a woman working on a political campaign???) and he proceeds to stalk her and then plan to murder her boss. when that goes sideways, he tries the first thing that comes to his mind to save someone. "I'm god's lonely man" indeed.

also this movie is beautiful. just the most gorgeous lighting, and the ugliest new york city has ever looked.

severance: continues to be the best thing on my screen ever week. honestly, the worst thing for episode 2.08 is that it followed the banger that was 2.07. if the episode order was flipped I would have lost my shit, but unfortunately, dichen lachman putting everyone else to shame for an hour won out over the frozen burnt-out hellscape that is harmony cobel's backstory.

read

no longer human, osamu dazai (1939, trans. 1958): the longer I sit with this book, the better it is. on the one hand, an extremely personal take on a misanthropic, depressed young man in 1930s japan, one who sees himself as unable to interact with humanity on personal and social levels, who feels that he's fallen so far from anything that he can't possibly be happy.

on the other hand, the prologue and epilogue (and dazai's own style of writing) present this man as more nuanced than his own perspective--"an angel," in the last words of the book by one of the many (many) women he had used and abandoned, left to nothing by his father and alone, insecure, and terrified by a world that he struggles to connect to, let alone find himself in.

would make a fascinating double feature read with the tatami galaxy. but speaking of double feature, for wet man territory...

neuromancer (william gibson, 1986): something I didn't know til I read this book: it's a heist book! heist is recruited by molly millions, the woman with razors in her fingertips, for a job: hack into one of the most high-security places and steal something. what's that something? dunno. but case had his hacking burned out of him after a job gone bad, and she--and her boss--are offering to give it back to him. if he does the job. and since his girl was just murdered after stealing from him, what does he have to lose?

damn but gibson can write a book. why have I never read this? every sentence feels like it was emblazoned on my brainstem at some point, from the opening line to the last. maybe it's the cultural osmosis (the matrix! ice! cyber ninjas! console cowboys!) but honestly, I think it's just gibson's ability to craft a series of words that feel like television static, or the internet when you were 13, or electricity jacked into your nerves.

case isn't exactly the sort of person I'd want to spend time with, but he's a compelling wet cat of a man. also he knows molly millions, who is just the coolest. why have we never had a molly millions like this except here in neuromancer? come on cyberpunk.

the lost metal (brando sando): still making my way through this one. fascinating how it is so firmly set post-stormlight 5, and definitely edging a wee bit too close to the intergalactic crossover territory, but with the fun bonus of being marasi (no clue what's going on, doing it anyways) or wax (even less clue what's going on, god's favorite knife) that mostly works. would love to meet someone who just read straight through the 2 mistborn series without any other cosmere knowledge, with the kelsier thing in the middle for flavor.

played

hades 2 (supergiant games): get FUCKED final boss. also eris and prometheus keep fucking me up, and also that final boss's minibosses are the woooooooooorst. supergiant, when I say that transistor is my favorite, I don't mean the giant skyscraper snake. but hey, I keep beating up grandpa at 16 nightmare, so go me I guess

[firebrnd]

Still frozen, Bonnie tried to assess whether the stranger posed a threat or not. The body language - at least what she could make out in the shadows - told her to stay as far away as she could. Something metallic shimmered in the hands of the stranger but before she was able to take a look, it disappeared from her sight. Nervously her hands slipped into the inside pocket of her forestgreen hoodie. It was a way to feel less vulnerable, since her hands were the ones working her magic.

Why did she leave the party? In this very moment Bonnie wished to be back at the party, surrounded by her dear friends and loud music. The silence was weird, almost painfully weird. As soon as the stranger introduced herself and stepped into the light, some tension fell from Bonnie. It was a girl, a woman. Even though she couldn't see everything of her, Bonnie was reassured that it was a female. Not that a female couldn't be as dangerous as someone male.

Bonnie didn't take her eyes off Laura, because despite the relief she had just felt, she wasn't sure whether she was in danger. The grim look on Laura's face spoke for itself. ❝No, it is fine. I haven't started yet.❞ Ignoring her first question, Bonnie hopped into answering the second. Based on her rather curious, yet disturbed glance at the book and the spilled herbs, Bonnie decided it would be best to keep it a secret for now.

In a burst of courage, Bonnie took a step toward Laura to close the book that remained open between them to this second. Before she could reach the book though, the witch heard the creaking sound. Did Laura bring anyone with her? Was it a trap for Bonnie? Hastily she grabbed the herbs to stuff them back into the jar and pressed the book to her chest, as she took another step backwards.

Listening to Laura's question, Bonnie took a second to realize what she just said. The witch frowned in confusion. ❝I didn't bring anyone !❞ Judging by the look on her face, Laura hadn't brought anyone with her either. The readhead listened tensely into the silence, trying to figure out if someone was with them. Maybe one of her friends searching for her? No, Bonnie checked her phone just a few minutes ago and no one tried to reach out to her.

Another creaking sound left Bonnie breathless. They weren't alone, but who the hell was with them? As soon as Bonnie saw how the candles got blewed out one by one she knew. It wasn't something human. ❝We're not here to cause any harm !❞ her voice trembled. Only one candle left before it would turn pitch black, with only the moonlight sparing some light. Even though Bonnie was not afraid of the dark, she felt the goosebumps covering her arms and legs again.

❝It would be better to leave this place. I don't think we're welcome here.❞ Gaining some confidence back, she threw a glance at Laura. Bonnie could feel the presence roaming around them, but she couldn't make out who or what it was. Even though she was curious, she didn't want to take the risk as long as someone stranger was in the same room - or the same building. Communicating with the dead wasn't something lighthearted. It was dangerous, since you could never be sure who you are communicating with. ❝Seriously, I can feel them getting angrier by the second. We should leave.❞ 

Bonnie made a detour around Laura to get to the door in which she had been hiding until a few minutes ago. She glanced over her shoulder to signal that Laura should follow her.

Years ⠀she⠀ had⠀ spent⠀ in⠀ captivity⠀. ⠀Birthed ⠀in ⠀a⠀ facility⠀,⠀ made ⠀to ⠀be ⠀a⠀ weapon⠀. ⠀She ⠀didn't⠀ have ⠀a ⠀childhood⠀. ⠀Wheres⠀ other⠀ children ⠀would ⠀throw⠀ birthday⠀ parties ⠀with ⠀cake⠀ and ⠀confetti⠀, ⠀Laura⠀ would⠀ throw⠀ parties⠀ soaked⠀ in ⠀blood⠀. ⠀Blood⠀ from ⠀people ⠀she ⠀had ⠀killed⠀. ⠀With ⠀her ⠀freedom⠀ gained⠀, ⠀she ⠀had ⠀never ⠀had ⠀a ⠀day⠀ where ⠀she ⠀wasn't⠀ looking ⠀out⠀, ⠀expecting⠀ someone⠀ to⠀ find⠀ her⠀.⠀ To⠀ bring⠀ her⠀ back ⠀to ⠀the⠀ place⠀ where⠀ she ⠀belonged⠀ to⠀ —⠀ or ⠀so t⠀hese⠀ people ⠀thought⠀. ⠀And ⠀even⠀ though ⠀she ⠀tried⠀ to⠀ do ⠀better⠀, ⠀to⠀ be ⠀a ⠀better ⠀person⠀, ⠀she ⠀knew⠀ the ⠀past ⠀would ⠀haunt ⠀her ⠀always⠀. ⠀Perhaps ⠀forever⠀. ⠀Perhaps⠀ one⠀ day⠀ it ⠀would⠀ be ⠀easier⠀, ⠀though⠀.

Suspicion⠀ shimmered⠀ in ⠀her ⠀green⠀ eyes ⠀as⠀ she⠀ was ⠀lingering⠀ in⠀ the⠀ dark⠀. ⠀Watching⠀ the ⠀stranger ⠀like ⠀a⠀ hawk⠀ its ⠀prey⠀.⠀ She⠀ noticed ⠀her⠀─ ⠀Bonnie⠀,⠀ as⠀ she ⠀had⠀ introduced ⠀herself ⠀─ ⠀stepping ⠀back⠀.⠀ She⠀ could ⠀smell⠀ it⠀. ⠀The⠀ fear⠀.⠀ The⠀ slight⠀ sweat⠀. ⠀The⠀ trembling ⠀of⠀ her⠀ fingers⠀. ⠀Laura ⠀had ⠀witnessed⠀ it ⠀many ⠀times⠀. ⠀Looked ⠀them ⠀right ⠀into ⠀their ⠀eyes⠀ whenever⠀ she ⠀would ⠀end⠀ their⠀ lives⠀.

But⠀ while⠀ she ⠀could⠀ smell⠀ all⠀ that⠀,⠀ she⠀ could ⠀also ⠀make ⠀out⠀ how⠀ this⠀ woman ⠀had ⠀no ⠀ill⠀ intent⠀.⠀ Carefully⠀ she⠀ inserted ⠀the ⠀metallic⠀ claws ⠀sprouting⠀ from ⠀between ⠀her ⠀fingers ⠀as⠀ she ⠀slowly ⠀stepped ⠀out ⠀of ⠀the ⠀dark⠀. ⠀Her ⠀brows⠀ still ⠀furrowed ⠀as ⠀she ⠀glanced ⠀Bonnie ⠀up ⠀and⠀ down⠀. ⠀Finally⠀, ⠀she ⠀lets ⠀out⠀ a ⠀breath⠀ she ⠀didn't ⠀know⠀ she ⠀had ⠀held⠀. ⠀Relief⠀.⠀ Of ⠀some ⠀sort⠀ at ⠀least⠀.

❛⠀I'm ⠀Laura⠀.⠀❜ ⠀ The⠀ tone⠀ in⠀ her⠀ voice⠀ still ⠀displaying ⠀a ⠀certain⠀ reluctant⠀ attitude⠀ as ⠀she's⠀ looking ⠀at ⠀the⠀ candle ⠀illuminating ⠀the⠀ room⠀ to⠀ a ⠀degree⠀. ⠀A ⠀book⠀ and ⠀what ⠀looks ⠀to ⠀be ⠀like ⠀herbs ⠀spread ⠀in ⠀front ⠀of ⠀them⠀. ⠀Laura ⠀had ⠀heard ⠀of ⠀rituals ⠀before⠀ but ⠀she ⠀has⠀ never⠀ engaged⠀ in ⠀one⠀,⠀ let ⠀alone ⠀watched ⠀someone⠀ do⠀ a⠀ ritual⠀. ⠀ She⠀ didn't⠀ necessarily⠀ trust ⠀it⠀. ⠀Yet⠀,⠀ she ⠀wanted⠀ to know ⠀more⠀. ⠀Why⠀ was ⠀this⠀ strange ⠀woman⠀ bringing ⠀her ⠀equipment⠀ into ⠀this ⠀specific ⠀home⠀? ⠀❛⠀What's ⠀this ⠀about⠀?⠀❜ ⠀, ⠀she⠀ asks⠀,⠀ tilting⠀ her ⠀head ⠀slightly⠀. ⠀The ⠀candle⠀ from⠀ below ⠀and ⠀on⠀ top⠀ of ⠀the ⠀table⠀ casts⠀ a ⠀shadow ⠀into⠀ Laura's⠀ face⠀, ⠀making ⠀her ⠀look⠀ rather ⠀grim ⠀as ⠀she ⠀walked ⠀closer⠀.⠀ She ⠀could⠀ properly ⠀see ⠀Bonnie's⠀ face ⠀now⠀,⠀ too⠀.

❛⠀Do ⠀I ⠀need⠀ to⠀ leave⠀ for⠀... ⠀this⠀?⠀❜  ⠀She⠀ points ⠀to⠀ the ⠀equipment⠀ and ⠀means ⠀to ⠀add⠀ something⠀ else ⠀when ⠀suddenly⠀ she ⠀hears⠀ the ⠀creaking⠀ wooden⠀ floor⠀, ⠀alerting⠀ her ⠀of ⠀another⠀ presence⠀.⠀ Hastily⠀ Laura ⠀turns⠀ around⠀ to ⠀where ⠀she ⠀believes ⠀the⠀ creaking ⠀sound⠀ was ⠀coming⠀ from⠀. ⠀But⠀ her ⠀senses⠀ failed ⠀to ⠀make⠀ out ⠀another ⠀presence⠀. ⠀She ⠀couldn't ⠀smell ⠀anything⠀. ⠀Anyone⠀.⠀ ❛⠀Who⠀ else ⠀did ⠀you ⠀bring ⠀with⠀ you⠀?!⠀❜  ⠀And⠀ while ⠀she⠀ had⠀ been ⠀quite⠀ reserved ⠀and⠀ continues⠀ to ⠀do⠀ so⠀, ⠀not⠀ sharing ⠀all⠀ too⠀ many ⠀words ⠀with ⠀Bonnie⠀, ⠀she ⠀feels ⠀the ⠀need⠀ to⠀ clarify⠀ how⠀ there ⠀hasn't ⠀been⠀ anyone⠀ with⠀ her ⠀or ⠀near ⠀this⠀ house⠀ since ⠀she ⠀had ⠀gotten ⠀here ⠀two ⠀days ⠀ago⠀. . .

[rphelperblog]

Bloodlines Book Quote Rp Meme

book one in the series of the same name by Richelle Mead- feel free to edit or change any pronouns for rp purposes- inspired by @ivashkinator​  

“Takes a lot of tries before you hit perfection. Well, except for my parents. They got it on the first try."

Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?"

"The color, when you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those... they're beautiful. You're beautiful.

“You should've just gotten a kids' meal. You could've saved me a lot of money. And gotten a toy.” 

“You are an exceptional, talented, and brilliant young woman. Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you're less. Do not ever let anyone make you feel invisible.” 

“You look too pretty to be useful." 

"I'm serious. She asked me what my greatest strength was. I said getting along with people."

"Then she asked what my greatest weakness was. And I said, 'Where should I start?'"

“I want her to be happy. It's worth sacrificing myself."

“But I can say you’re okay for an irreverent party boy with occasional moments of brilliance.”

“I used to think you were weak and just didn't fight back ... but now, honestly, I think you're actually pretty tough. It takes a hell of a lot of strength to not complain and lash out.” 

"These hands don't sully themselves with fighting.” 

“Everything's about my personal entertainment. The world is my stage. Keep it up- you're becoming a star performer in the show.” 

“Being charming is my hobby.” 

“So. Are you guys here to convert me or sell me siding?” 

“I can pick a lock. How do you think I got into my parents' liquor cabinet in middle school?” 

"And that's been more than enough. The only thing keeping me alive is that he keeps a hefty supply of liquor on hand. But at the rate I'm going, that'll be gone by the weekend. Jesus Christ, I'm climbing the walls.Oh. Sorry. No offense to Jesus.” 

"Am I interrupting your social calender?" I made a big show of glancing around the empty room. “

"You're a saint. A goddess, even.” 

"I don't think I've ever heard her laugh,"

“My name's Jet Steele.” 

iggest cheerleader would be someone who thought I was evil and unnatural.” 

I like Latin. It's fun.”

“History is important because it teaches us about the past. And bylearning about the past, you come to understand the present, so that you may make educated decisions about the future.” 

 I can't believe you think we're the strange ones.”

"When you said he was looking for a job, I pictured a male version of you. I figured he'd want to color code the cups or something." 

All guys mean the same thing when they want to ‘get to know a girl better.’ You’re a wellbred young lady, so I understand why you’d be too innocent to understand. Good thing you’ve got me here to interpret.” 

“I don't suppose that she just gave you the job based on looks alone?" 

"I don't want to keep you from the mob of fans beating down your door."

"Hey, a guy can hope. I mean, it's not impossible that a car full of scantily clad sorority girls might break down outside and need my help.”

“I don't suppose that she gave you the job based on looks alone?"

“I just rely on natural talent, when you have such a wealth of it to draw from, the danger comes from having too much.” 

“Yeah? Can you draw a skeleton riding a motorcycle with flames coming out of it? And I want a pirate hat on the skeleton. And a parrot on his shoulder. A skeleton parrot. Or maybe a ninja skeleton parrot? No, that would be overkill. But it'd be cool if the biker skeleton could be shooting some ninja throwing stars. That are on fire.” 

“Do you know anything about silent films?”

“Oh. Okay. Well, um, there’s a silent film festival downtown next week. Do you think you’d want to go?”

“What is it with you and frozen desserts Why do you always want them?"

"Because we live in a dessert.” 

“You’re a solid person. You’re easy on the eyes, if a little skinny, and your ability to memorize useless information is going to totally hook in some guy.” 

“They're waiting for you. Go on in.If. You. Dare.”

“These hands don’t do manual labor.” 

He became about one percent less tense.”

“It's like living in a retirement home! Clarence is taking a nap right now, and he eats at five. It's so boring."

"Yup. What I did was tantamount to treason in their eyes."

"I don't know what 'tantamount' means, but it sounds pretty serious.”

have you ever dated a human girl at your school?"

“I changed my mind,I'll take you up on helping me get a job."

I almost swerved into oncoming traffic.” 

“But maybe fun wasn’t so bad once in a while.” 

"But . . . it's complicated. I've been taught certain things my entire life. Those are hard to shake."

"The greatest changes in history have come because people were able to shake off what others told them to do.” 

She's all he sees when he closes his eyes. Flashing dark eyes and a body full of fire and energy. No matter how much he tries to forget her, no matter how much he drinks . . . she's always there. He can't escape her.” 

“It wasn't the kind of touch that said, Hey, I've got a plan, so hang in there because we're going to get out of this. It was more like the kind of touch that simply said, You aren't alone. It was really the only thing he could offer. And in that moment, it was enough.” 

Last I checked, you aren’t an expert in social matters..."

“Besides, I already knew you didn't have any moral qualms about breaking and entering.” 

“Also, I didn’t trust any guy who used more styling products than I did.”

"At least I take action. You? You let the world go by without you. You have no spine. You don’t fight back."

"It was irresponsible! Why can't anyone see that?"

"But that bitch had it coming.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like to love someone like that, then to have that love thrown back in your face—” 

She was like a tropical flower in this dark, stuffy room. One that could kill you.”

“I went to bed feeling melancholy, wishing I could have poured out all my fears and insecurities to my mom. Wasn’t that what normal mothers and daughters did?” 

"You already have, and that's why i've got the advantage. You've done your worst but you haven't seen what i can do yet.” 

“I smell the paint, and . . . wait . . . is that pine?”

“Damn straight. Pine-scented cleaner. As in, I cleaned. With these hands, these hands that don’t do manual labor.” 

“As much as I hated to admit it, I kind of looked forward to seeing him. It made no sense, but something about his infuriating nature made me forget about my other worries. Weirdly, I felt like I could relax around him.” 

“Along with not knowing what it felt like to be in love, I also didn’t know how long it took to recover from love.” 

“No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.”

“Bad enough,but everyone’s okay now; that’s what matters.” 

“I really don't care what you do, but maybe it'll keep you busy enough that you'll stop coming over here unannunced and throwing yourself at creatures of darkness.” 

“You've deprived yourself of enjoyment for most of your life. You're aloof from others. You've never let yourself be selfish, and look where it's got you. Your 'morals' have left you with a short, strict life. Can you tell me now, just before you're about to die, that you don't wish you'd maybe allowed yourself an little more fun?” 

“...I can say you’re okay for an irreverent party boy with occasional moments of brilliance.”

aren't you guys supposed to have uniforms? This looks like what you usually wear.” 

“Is it really so terrible being around us?"

“Not sure I would’ve been alive for their rescue if you hadn’t set that bitch on fire. How did you do that?” 

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 12

Chapter 1     Chapter 11

The dining room was only slightly less formal than the entry way.  It was decorated in deep tones and dark wood meant to evoke grandeur and pageantry. It still spoke of old money and cold families.  There was no evidence of laughter over inside jokes, gasping at stories about someone’s day, discussions of dreams, or fatherly advice doled out over a lovingly cooked dinner that everyone worked on together.

Marinette held back as everyone made their way into the dining room, letting them claim their usual seats, prepared to take whatever seat was left.  She was hoping to cause as little upset and disturbance as possible.  Her plan was foiled when Duke jumped up from his seat and moved down one spot.  “Hey, Marinette.  Take this seat.”  

Marinette opened her mouth to object but stopped when Jason put his hand on her back to guide her to the seat.  “Lost cause.  Don’t even bother,” he muttered low enough for her to hear.  Marinette looked back at him uncertainly but nodded in understanding. She breathed a small sigh of relief when Jason took the other seat next to her.

Dick pouted at the seating, but took the seat across from her instead, grabbing the seat quickly from the right as Tim was just about to drop into it from the left.  Tim grumbled something about annoying puppies and took the next seat over, causing Damian to scowl and redirect himself to a different seat. “Damian!” Dick called out to him. He patted the seat next to him.  

Damian huffed and sent Marinette a glare as he took his not normal seat beside Dick.  He squirmed in the seat.  It wasn’t his usual seat and he could feel the difference.  It felt off.  It felt wrong.  He didn’t like it at all.  This was not his routine.  This was not what he was comfortable with and it was all her fault.  They were playing a charade for her.  They were making themselves uncomfortable for her.

Marinette watched politely as M. Pennyworth set the plates down in front of everyone.  When he was done, he exited quietly.  Marinette watched him leave the room as the rest of the family took bites of their food.  M. Wayne had called M. Pennyworth a father and Jason had called him a grandfather, but he didn’t eat with them?  And addressed them all as Master or Miss?  Did none of them know what family was supposed to be?  What it was supposed to mean?  Because that, wasn’t it.  And honestly, if that’s what they thought it was, she had serious concerns about joining their ‘family’.

She looked back to Jason and tried to send him a message with her eyes to ask him about it without having to say it out loud and draw attention to herself.  She cleared her throat quietly, hoping it was quiet enough that just Jason would hear but everyone looked at her.  She looked at their eyes before returning hers to her plate.  “Sorry,” she said quietly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bruce said kindly.  His eyes were filled with concern and a touch of worry.  He wanted her to eventually feel like this was her home too and if he wanted that to happen, she needed to feel comfortable here.  “Did you need anything?”

“No, no, no,” Marinette insisted, shaking her head and sending him a weak smile.  “It’s nothing.  The dinner looks amazing.”

“If there’s anything you don’t like…” Bruce started.

“No!  Of course not,” Marinette exclaimed.  “This looks really delicious.”  She was waving her hands frantically.  It was all going wrong already.  She was causing a commotion.  From the moment she’d walked into his life, she’d caused nothing but commotion.  She was really hoping to break the cycle tonight and get closer to the kids in the family.

Bruce watched her uncertainly, but nodded.  “Because if you want anything else, we have a huge kitchen and pantry,” Bruce tried to assure her.

Marinette’s eyes grew even bigger and her movements more frantic.  “Jesus, B. Lay off her.  She already said she was fine,” Jason grumbled.  “You’re going to give her a complex.”

Somehow, Marinette’s eyes got wider and her face went slack.  “No, no. It’s fine.”  She turned to Bruce with a desperate look.  “I’m fine.  Thank you for your concern.”

“Marinette,” Bruce stated with a touch of exasperation. He didn’t know what he had to do to get her relax, to get her to believe she wasn’t going to make him not want her. “Just let me know.”

Marinette nodded rapidly.  “Of course.”  She looked around the room taking note of the pasted on, polite smiles while they took silent bites.  She could feel her shoulders curling in on her as the quiet continued.

“How was your day today?” Bruce prompted Marinette after the first few bites in uncomfortable silence.

She nearly dropped her fork in surprise.  “Oh, it was pretty good,” she answered with a polite smile.  And oh God, this was the most awkward thing she had ever done.  She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath.  It wasn’t going to change unless she did something to change it.  “I’m glad you had a meeting this morning so we missed out on the Penguin.  I mean sorry about the meeting, but I think it worked out for the best.”

She fought the urge to openly examine the people around the table.  They had all frozen at her mention of the Penguin, but all seemed to be trying to pretend like they hadn’t.  Their smiles became forced.  She wasn’t sure if it brought back bad memories or scared them how close M. Wayne had been to getting taken by the Penguin.  If they had stuck to their original plan, he could have been able to take him.

Bruce chuckled politely, tightly.  “Definitely a better result.  I would still like to go to the art museum with you though.”

“Do you have room for someone else?” Dick asked perking up.  “I’d like to get in on that.  Cass?” He looked over to Cass to see how she felt.  When she nodded excitedly he looked over to Damian.  “Damian would love to go to, right Damian?”  Damian leaned back in his chair and focused on the food, refusing to look at Dick.  “Damian’s in,” Dick enthused.

Tim snorted but realized his mistake as soon as the sound came out.  He looked warily over at Dick who was giving him an overly wide smile.  Tim turned to Marinette with an artificial smile.  “I’d love to.”  Duke shaking his head caught his eyes and he grinned maliciously. “Duke loves the art museum.  We can’t go without him too.”

Duke froze and narrowed his eyes at Tim for a fraction of a second before smiling at Marinette.  “If you don’t mind the company.”

Marinette looked between them.  The only one who seemed to actually be happy about it was Dick. Everyone else seemed like this was the last possible thing they’d ever want to do.  She plastered on a smile, unwilling to be the cause of discord in the family.  “No. Yeah.  That sounds… fun.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her.  “You’re being insincere,” he accused harshly.

“Damian!” Bruce scolded loudly.  “That was uncalled for.”

Dick looked at him with disappointment. “Damian.  It is not okay to treat a guest… your sister like that,” he added after Bruce finished.

Jason was tense, preparing to step in if Damian said even one more word to Marinette.  He knew she already didn’t feel welcome in Bruce’s life, let alone his home.  He sure as Hell wasn’t going to let Damian solidify that belief.

Marinette stared at Damian wide eyed.  He wasn’t wrong, but she thought everyone kind of understood the reasoning behind it.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was expected.  Not to mention she wasn’t the only one.  She looked around the room and finding varying levels of disappointment, concern for her, and annoyance with Damian.  She looked over at Damian trying to gauge his goal.  

Roy and Jason had warned her that he would try to intimidate her, likely attack her.  And she guessed she should have expected to defend herself.  But again, he wasn’t wrong.  What he was accusing her of; not being entirely honest, she wasn’t.  None of them were.  But when she looked in his eyes, it wasn’t hostility she saw, not completely.  It was confusion, uncertainty, unease, and yes, a fair amount of hostility.  And wasn’t that the issue she was having with them too?  That they didn’t seem to be sincere with her?  But while she curled in, he lashed out.

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted quietly.  The room fell silent again and Damian looked up at her with a confused scowl.  She met Damian’s gaze and gave him a small smile.  “We’re all being varying levels of insincere.  This is an awkward, uncomfortable, scary situation.  For all of us, I imagine.  Again varying levels of that.  Maybe for you and me more than the rest.  You’re the baby and I’m…”  She let it trail off leaving ‘unwanted’ unsaid, hoping they would fill in the sentence with a more palatable adjective.  One she wouldn’t have to discuss with concerned looks and sympathetic smiles.

“You guys don’t want to offend me and I’m trying desperately not to offend you, but we don’t know each other well enough to know how to do that or what we need to do to ease the tension.  We’re trying to figure each other out, so nobody gets hurt. You or me.”  She knew she was rambling but it was honest, coherent rambling at least.  Maybe not completely, but it was the truth.  And Damian was right.  They weren’t being themselves and they weren’t going to get to know each other until they were.  

“I don’t want to expose too much and scare you away or give you the ammunition to really hurt me, if that’s what you’re going to do.  And I imagine you guys are afraid of driving me away by saying the wrong thing.  And how do you know what the wrong thing is until you know someone?  So we’re all on edge.  Not ourselves.  We don’t feel safe to be ourselves yet.  And how can you be sincere when you’re not yourself?”

Cass smiled warmly at her and nodded in agreement. Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.  “Except me. She’s herself around me, so suck it.” He stuck his tongue out at the rest of the family, like the mature, tough, dangerous, vigilante he was.

“Oh my God, Jason.”  Marinette shook her head and dropped it in her hands.  “That’s because I was drunk off my ass and didn’t have the ability to pretend when we met.”

“That’s French for ‘because you’re the best’,” Jason assured them with a completely straight face.

“It definitely isn’t,” Dick rolled his eyes, but his lips were turned up in a smile.  “If you want to talk about him behind his back in front of his face in French, let me know,” Dick winked at her.  “I haven’t gotten to practice my French in a while.”

“It sounds like Jason took advantage of you in a weakened state.  Terrible brother behavior,” Tim insisted.  He shook his head in mock disappointment.  “You deserve better.”

“Who?  You?” Jason squawked, affronted at the suggestion.

“I was going to say Duke, but if I’m the first one that comes to mind when you think of best brother, I mean, I’m not going to argue,” Tim shrugged with a smirk.

“You say Jason is always wrong and you’re always right, so…” Duke added with a grin.  He turned to Marinette.  “Sounds like you and me are going to form an alliance.  New Kids Club.”  He turned his head slightly when Cass made a noise.  “And Cass.”  He smiled when Marinette giggled.

“Let’s not form alliances and cliques or hog Marinette, please?” Bruce asked, the resignation clear in his voice but affection clear in his eyes.

Marinette nodded and turned serious. “Absolutely.  I will not form any kind of pact with Duke and Cass over lunch next week?”  She looked between the two of them for confirmation. Duke and Cass nodded back at her and Marinette grinned.  “Monday?”

“Hey!” Dick objected.

Jason gasped at her and dropped his arm from around her shoulder.  “This feels like a betrayal.  I’m betrayed.”  He shook his head and took a bite of food.  “You’ll fit right in.”

Duke shook his head.  “Can’t Monday.  I have a poetry thing.”

Marinette’s eyes brightened.  “Are you presenting or watching?”

Duke looked down shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.  He hadn’t even told the rest of the family about it.  It didn’t occur to him that they would be interested.  “Presenting actually.”

“Would you mind if I came too?  Or do you not like people you know being there?”

Duke shrugged.  “No, I don’t mind, but…” he cringed slightly, “it isn’t in the best part of town.  It’s kind of dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, I can protect you,” Marinette winked at him.  She ignored Damian’s scoff and Bruce’s choke.

Jason rolled his eyes.  “Don’t worry, I’ll go too.  I’ve never heard the kid read.”

“I’d like to come too,” Dick looked at them hopefully, “if you don’t mind.”

Duke made a noise that sounded like some combination of happy and resigned and nodded.  “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“You okay with Adrien and Max coming too?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah, bring them.  It’ll be nice to meet them.”  He waved off her concern.  “Okay, that’s fun and all but we still need to decide when to not meet for the New Kids Club.  And I’m not putting that in my nonexistent calendar for,” Duke looked up questioningly, “Thursday lunch?”

Marinette looked over to Cass who nodded excitedly at her.  Marinette smiled back at her and Duke.  “Sounds good.”  She pulled out her phone and handed it to him.  “Want to put your number in so we can coordinate?”

“Absolutely!”  He took her unlocked phone and put his number in.

“Can I put my number in too?” Tim asked

“And me!” Dick exclaimed.  

“Yeah, of course,” Marinette smiled at both of them. A real smile.  Thank God Adrien was right.  She kind of liked the kids… even though most weren’t kids and most of them were actually older than her.  

“Why don’t you put all our numbers in there, Tim,” Dick suggested.

“Tt,” Damian scoffed.  “There’s no reason she would need my number.”

Bruce gave him a disappointed look, but Marinette shrugged.  “Please, don’t put it in if he isn’t comfortable with it.”

Tim pursed his lips.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  What if she finds a cute animal?  How’s she supposed to send you the picture?”  Damian scowled but didn’t say more.  Tim finished and handed the phone back to Marinette.

Marinette took it back with a thank you and scrolled through her contacts.  “Huh… he didn’t put you in,” she assured Damian.

“What?”  Tim looked at her confused then looked at her phone again.  “Oh, it’s under Demon Spawn.”

Marinette gaped at him.  “It’s under what?”

“Dem…”

“Yeah, no,” she cut him off.  She pushed a few buttons and looked back at Damian.  “Not anymore.  It’s gone.  You can give me your number when and if you’re ready.”  Damian didn’t acknowledge her, but he did nod curtly at his plate and Marinette was taking that as a win.  

She tucked her phone away and looked around the room.  “Okay, so, Duke does poetry, I heard Damian does art, and I heard Dick likes to swing, what does everyone else like to do?” Marinette asked with a bright smile.

Jason and Tim burst out laughing.  “Your reputation proceeds you, Lover Boy,” Jason managed to get out between gasps.

Marinette frowned and looked between them in confusion. “Did I say something wrong?”

Dick smiled warmly at her.  He kept his eye contact with her as he threw a roll at Jason’s head.  “Ignore them. Their minds are in the gutter.  For clarification, I like gymnastics.  I was a trapeze artist in a Haley’s Circus when I was a kid.”

“Oh that sounds fun!” Marinette almost squealed in excitement.  “You must have loved flying through the air.  That was always the best feeling.”

“It was.  I loved it.  The freedom of soaring before gravity took over was amazing,” Dick nodded in agreement. His eyes took on a distant look as he talked about it and a smile curled on his lips.  “Did you do trapeze work in Paris?”  Marinette froze momentarily.  “You mentioned you liked the feeling.  Is that how you know it?” he prompted gently.

“Oh… um… no.”  She looked down at the napkin on her lap for a second, pretending to readjust it.  “I was friends with a few of our local heroes.  One of them, Ladybug swung around the city on a yoyo that worked kind of like a magic rope.  That feeling of swinging up and breaking gravity was always heart racing.  And the feeling of falling until the string caught.” She looked away with a smile. “Yeah, I understand what you’re talking about.”

“We have a trapeze in the manor.  Did you want to try it out sometime?” Dick asked excitedly.  

Marinette grinned.  “That sounds like fun.  I’d love to.”

“How about tomorrow?”

Marinette blinked.  The Waynes definitely moved fast.  There was no time to breathe.  Just moving from one thing directly into the next.  She needed time to think, time to process that they apparently didn’t require.  “I can’t. Sorry.”  Dick’s face fell immediately.  If she didn’t have a legitimate excuse, she’d feel guilty.  “I’ll be in New York tomorrow for business and I’m meeting with Lucius Friday.”

“Saturday then,” Dick offered.  Marinette smiled and nodded causing Dick to almost vibrate in his seat.  None of the other siblings ever wanted to go on the trapeze with him and he was beyond excited to connect with Marinette.

“Did they take you around often?” Bruce asked with forced calmness.  “The heroes,” he explained when she scrunched her face in confusion.  “You said they took you around often enough for you to know what it felt like… where Hawkmoth could see.”  Spending time with civilians in suit was dangerous, incredibly so, even more so doing it in full view of the public.  Something like that could have resulted in Marinette getting targeted.  It was irresponsible and negligent.  He should have never trusted the Parisian heroes or Diana that the heroes could handle Paris without him.

“No,” Marinette said as nonchalantly as she could manage, trying to pretend like she didn’t notice the tightness in his voice. “They rescued me a few times and once things were resolved they would sometimes take people who had gotten caught up in the attacks for short rides like that to bring up morality.  To make them feel better.  It wasn’t unusual or noteworthy, just a public service.”

Bruce relaxed minutely, but the tension in his frame was still clear.  Marinette watched him carefully, trying to gauge if she’d used the right words to calm him.  She could feel her body tensing at exponential rates the longer he was silent, the longer it took him to relax or smile.  Marinette looked down at her plate and pushed her food around with tight lips.

“I like unsolved mysteries,” Tim threw in.  Eyes around the table turned to him, most of them incredulous and tense that he would take the conversation there.  She heard a whispered “Dude,” from somewhere around the table.

Marinette let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and started laughing.  The eyes that had been on Tim turned to her, making her laugh even harder at the awkwardness of it until another voice joined hers in laughter, followed by another, until most of the table was at least chuckling.  

“My best friend gets into that too,” Marinette nodded with a grateful smile.  She narrowed her eyes playfully at him.  “Do you end up in all night benders following the trail of a mystery down incalculable rabbit holes until you get crazed and someone has to come and force you to sleep too?”

Tim looked shocked and slowly looked around the room before returning his gaze to Marinette.  “No,” he said tentatively.

“Yes,” Cass, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Bruce all chorused at the same time.

“Oooohhh, remind me some time to talk about the Impossible Murder,” Marinette offered.  Her eyes lit up with excitement.  Unsolved mysteries and conspiracy theories she could do.  This was her comfort zone.  Not that she got into it, but years with Alya had taught her the rhythm of inquiry and questions.  She took comfort in that rhythm.  It was something familiar she could lean into.

“Yes!” Tim exclaimed, an inquisitive glint in his eyes.

“No,” Cass, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Bruce all chorused at the same time.

Marinette giggled and winked at Tim.  “We’ll talk later,” she stage whispered to him.  She grinned at the groans she heard around the table.  

Tim turned to Duke and stuck his tongue out at him. “Sounds like we get our own club, just for Marinette and me.  The Investigator’s Club.”

Jason scoffed and took a bite.  “Like I’d want to be part of a club with that name.”

Cass cleared her throat lightly, drawing some attention to her.  “And Cass,” Tim amended.  Cass nodded happily.

“How about you, Cass?”

“Ballet,” Cass answered with a smile.

“Oh, I wish I could do ballet.  Are you in a class or do you do it on your own?  Or are you a professional?”  Marinette asked trying to keep her voice from getting too excited or invested.  Bruce had mentioned she didn’t talk a lot and Marinette didn’t want to pressure her to talk if she didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want to make her feel like she was ignoring her.

“Fun.”

Marinette nodded.  “I bet it’s a nice way to relax.”

“Not as good as shooting guns though,” Jason grinned. “Or blowing things up.”

Bruce sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Jason…” he started, not even bothering to try to finish the sentence.

Marinette blinked a few times then nodded.  “Uh huh.  I like sewing,” she responded dryly.  Jason laughed and shook his head at her.  He took a bite of his food and looked back at her appraisingly, a happy glint in his eye.

“Right, B mentioned you’re a designer.  Just graduated right?” Dick prompted.

“Yes.  My final project was a few weeks ago.  Now I’m figuring out my next steps.”

“Is that related to your trip to New York?” Duke asked.

Marinette nodded and swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “I’m meeting a few friends and someone at Style Queen to talk about styling a shoot.  And Adrien has a job interview.”  She took a quick bite of her dinner before continuing.  “We’re also trying to get a feel for New York, see if that’s somewhere we would want to move.”

“Wow, Style Queen is really big!” Duke nodded. “That’s awesome!”

Marinette smiled at him.  “Getting on her good side is definitely good for your career. Luckily, I’ve been able to impress her over the years.”

“Along those lines,” Bruce cut in, “I’ve commissioned her to create clothes for us.  We were planning on her coming over to start on Tuesday, so I expect everyone to be here for it.”

Dick beamed at her but Damian grunted loud enough for everyone to hear.  He had absolutely no interest in wearing something purely because ‘his sister’ designed it.  He had a style and level of craft he required in the clothes he wore and he was not about to sit or stand around uncomfortably all day long purely out of some misplaced obligation.

He narrowed his eyes at Marinette.  It still didn’t make sense.  Why would she have come to Gotham if she was looking to break into fashion?  She had to have had an ulterior motive.  “So you just happened to consider Gotham as a place to reconsider?”

Marinette cocked her head to the side.  “No…” she scrunched her face in a bit of confusion. “I never even considered it. Gotham was a side trip.  I had no intention of staying past earlier this week. But things… changed,” she looked around sheepishly before looking back at him.  “I was considering New York or Metropolis in America.  Also Shanghai, I have family there; London, Adrien has family there; Milan, my… grandmother grew up there.”

“Is Adrien your boyfriend?” Tim asked.

“No.  My... brother,” her voice petered out as she called the word and she looked down guiltily.

“Will he be part of your business?” Bruce asked, pretending like he hadn’t registered her discomfort, hoping that if they moved past it, she would too.

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Marinette grimaced as she went through all the options.    She shrugged.  “Whatever he wants.  He wasn’t allowed to make choices growing up so now that his father,” she spit the word out with disgust, “is gone, I’m going to let him decide his next move. He wants to help, but he’s looking for a teaching job.  He’s thinking of doing both for a while.  I’m hoping I can convince him it’ll be okay for him to focus on him.  It isn’t ‘abandoning’ me if he does.

“But, that's what's taking so long.  I can work from almost anywhere.  I’d prefer to be near a big city, but really, it isn’t necessary. It’s harder to find a place he'd like to teach and we want to live.”

“If he isn't part of your business...” Dick started, trying to figure out her motivation.

“We come as a set,” she said definitively and took a bite, staring him down as if daring him to challenge her.  “He’s my emotional support grimalkin.”

“Will your future romantic partner, if you want one, be okay with that?” Damian demanded.

Marinette shrugged.  She could feel Jason tensing next to her at Damian’s tone, but she wasn’t too bothered by it.  “They will be or they won't be.”

“Those are the options, yes,” Damian deadpanned.

“Demon Spawn…” Jason hissed.

“I meant,” Marinette cut in before Jason could continue the fight he wanted to start, “they will be okay with it or they won't be my romantic partner.  Adrien and I have been through a lot.  We feel safest when the other is near, at least close enough to come running if there’s a problem.  If someone can’t understand that about me, then I don’t need them in my life.”

Bruce nodded and gave her an understanding smile. “We should invite him next time.”

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “He’d love that.  He’s dying to meet you all.”

Bruce took another bite before coming up with an idea.  “If he’s thinking of being part of your business anyway, why don’t you bring him with you when you do the commission?  We can have a family dinner afterword.”

“That’s a great idea.  I’ll check with him,” Marinette nodded.  “And apparently, as long as he doesn’t talk about pineapples with you guys,” she gave Jason a pointed look, “it should be fine.”

Tim groaned.  “No.  No! I’m not having this conversation again.” He glared at Dick.  “Pineapple is the most disgusting topping to put on a pizza.”

Dick gasped dramatically.  “You take that back!”

“It’s worse than sardines,” Tim hissed.  “It’s an abomination.  It’s an insult to pizzas.”

“How dare you!  Pineapple is amazing.  It adds a sweetness that perfectly contrasts the saltiness you get from other ingredients!” Dick defended.

Marinette blinked a few times as Dick continued to sing the praises of pineapple on pizza before she leaned over and whispered to Jason.  “You weren’t joking.”

“Nope,” he said popping the p.  “Told you it always finds a way to come up.”

“It came up because you mentioned it,” Marinette deadpanned.  “Literally you’re the reason it came up.”

He shook his head as if he didn’t hear her.  “It always finds a way.  It’s like sorcery.”

Chapter 13

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Paws

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: (picks up S.O. turning into a cat fanfics) I just think they’re neat. Shinobu might not like it, but it's better than those toy-story-looking-baby-head-spiders from Natagumo Mountain, am I right? Word Count: 7,999

Shinobu had a choice variety of things she’d have liked to say in that moment. Many were colorful, but few could be said in polite company. Still, Shinobu let the words fly free, for she knew it didn’t matter what she yelled out to the universe. Not unless someone could translate the pitiful meows that fell from her whiskered maw.

Yes, Shinobu knew that demon she had destroyed the night prior had done something strange to her with its blood art, but she had prepared herself for every probable poison or venom that had entered her skin. She wasn’t careless, there just wasn’t an antidote she had that could cure the ailment that had befallen her as she slept.

When she had awoken in the unfamiliar surroundings of the inn she was boarding, she didn’t notice an immediate difference. She stretched groggily, yawned, exhaled... but when went to muss up her hair to scratch an itch tickling at her scalp, she caught sight of a little black paw instead of her hand.

She darted backward, getting caught in the sea of covers and clothing, ensnaring herself like a roll of fish and rice encased in seaweed. She struggled for a moment, groaning to herself. At least, it was supposed to be a groan. The sound that met Shinobu’s ears sounded more like the warning sound of an agitated alley cat. She ceased her wiggling immediately, frozen. She tentatively opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Meow...?”

No. Oh no, that was not at all what Shinobu had wanted to say. She tried again.

“Mew.”

Different, but no less depressing.

“Mowww.”

Now that just sounded down right pitiful.

Shinobu wiggled against the weight of the fabrics around her lithe body, somehow managing to, quite literally, claw her way free.

She took a look at her surroundings. Her haori was draped over the hanging rack near the room’s desk. On the desk sat her uniform, neatly folded with her butterfly hairpin sitting on top and her nichirin blade propped up against the worn, wooden chair. Below her she saw the yukata she had worn to bed crumpled in the sheets of the futon and the little black paw she had seen before had been joined by another just beside it.

Shinobu skittered back a meter, dismayed when the paws followed the action. She spun around on the futon and caught a glimpse of a fluffy black tail and blanched. Well, as best she could in her current predicament.

‘No, no, no...’ Shinobu thought to herself as she clumsily made her way to the desk. She recalled a small hand mirror she had seen the night before. Surely that would clear this whole thing up, right? She shimmied, preparing herself for the first jump, making it to the chair. She cringed at the sound of her blade clattering to the ground before jumping again to the flat surface of the desk. Shinobu spotted the hand mirror and cautiously pawed towards it. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before leaning over the glass. Then she cracked an eye open, peering down.

Purple, yes, that was familiar. Those were her eyes, but she certainly didn’t have shiny, black fur and whiskers and little black, triangle shaped ears on the top of her head and—

“Mowww!” Shinobu cursed aloud, finding some strange feeling of satisfaction in knocking the hand mirror to the floor below. Yet that was quickly doused by the sense of dread that hung over her.

She, Kochou Shinobu, had been turned into a detestable, furry little creature. A cat.

“Is everything alright in there miss? I heard a couple loud thumps coming from here.”

There was no human reply of course, but Shinobu leapt off of the desk and padded towards the door, pawing at it, hoping the innkeeper’s daughter would let her curiosity get the better of her and open the door.

“Miss? Are you well?”

No, Shinobu certainly was not well. But if the girl could let her out of this room she could see herself feeling just a small fraction better. She clawed at the wooden frame. If she had to pay for the damages so be it.

“Miss, I’m coming in. Pardon the intrusion...”

The door finally slid to the side and the innkeeper’s daughter peered inside.

“Hello?”

“Meow.”

The girl startled, her head snapped down to her feet. Shinobu sat in front of her expectantly, waiting for what she wasn’t sure.

“Tou-san?” The girl called down the hallway, stepping back from the cat, “Tou-san, the woman who checked in last night is gone. She left all her stuff and, and there’s a cat in here!”

“What are you saying child? Huh.” The innkeeper appeared in the doorway and blinked before frowning deeply. “I didn’t discuss lodgings for a pet with her. Was she trying to shorthand me?”

Shinobu’s tail twitched at the insinuation.

“Well, looks like she’s long gone now. Nothing to do about it now.” The innkeeper sighed.

“But, her clothes are still here and her katana... I can’t imagine she left them there on purpose.”

“Well, we have her address in the book. We’ll have someone take her belongings there and get the money we’re owed for their safe return... and the money for any damages this animal may have caused,” he reached out to pet Shinobu, but understandably the Hashira turned cat batted the hand away. “I’ll get Daisuke on it, that boy’s been getting too comfortable anyway. Gather up all her belongings will you, Hibari.”

“Yes, father.”

The innkeeper nodded then continued on down the hall. Hibari cautiously made her way past the threshold of the room and Shinobu eyed her warily from the doorway as the young girl, probably around Aoi’s age, gathered her belongings and folded them all together with care before setting them into a travel bag. Shinobu was pleased that her privacy was kept largely intact. The only thing the young girl openly scrutinized was her nichirin blade.

“This is so cool.” Hibari mumbled to herself before laying the blade across the opening of the bag. She then turned to Shinobu, couching to the floor with the bag outstretched in front of her. “Here kitty kitty, want to go for a ride?”

Shinobu’s eyes narrowed, she didn’t much appreciate how the girl cooed at her like she was a child. She stayed in place, her nose upturned.

“Oh don’t be like that. I’m sure it’ll be a long journey home. I’d sit in the bag if I were you.”

Shinobu stood firm. If she had to have four legs, she was going to use them. Hibari sighed and stood with the bag over her shoulder.

“Alright, suit yourself,” Hibari made to exit the room, “come on, little kitty.”

Shinobu resented that, yet she pawed after the girl. They exited the inn and found a young man stretched out in the grass.

“Daisuke-nii, here are all the traveler’s belongings. Tou-san gave you the address, right?” Hibari asked.

Daisuke groaned and sat up with his hand outstretched to take the bag, “yeah,” he noticed Shinobu sitting near his sister’s feet and sneered, “do I really need to take that thing with me too?”

Shinobu’s tail swished, agitated.

“Don’t be mean. The poor thing is probably homesick,” Hibari pouted, “I can’t believe that lady would just leave her here.”

Homesick, yes, Shinobu had been off on missions for the better part of three weeks. She was finally meant to go home today but like this, as a cat of all things, was not how she wanted to do it. She just wanted to walk home like a normal person, hug all her girls and catch up with the goings on at the estate, and spend some much needed alone time with her (Y/n). Was that so much to ask for?

“Whatever, it’s just a cat Hibari.” Daisuke groused. “If it decides to run off before I get to the place, I’m not taking responsibility for it. I’m just gonna drop this off, and get our money.”

“You better take good care of this cat, Nii-chan!” Hibari frowned, crossing her arms, “I’ll never forgive you if something bad happens to her! Just look at how sweet she is.”

Daisuke looked into Shinobu’s eyes and found his distaste for the feline mirrored back at him.

“There is nothing sweet looking about that thing.” Daisuke grunted as he stood to his full height, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Just try to be nice, okay?” Hibari asked.

“Sure, yeah, yeah, come on vermin. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can get home.” Daisuke made to scoop up Shinobu, but she side stepped away, slapping his hand for good measure.

“Ow! You mangy little—“

“Daisuke!” Hibari warned, giving him a pointed look.

“Fine! Just don’t slow me down. I’m leaving.” Daisuke rubbed his hand and turned to start his journey. A journey Shinobu had no intention of sticking around for.

Shinobu was surely faster than the ornery young man. She was not particularly fond of his presence either. She decided she would go off ahead of him. If he tried to do anything funny with her belongings she would easily find them again and give them all hell. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could figure out how to revert to her true body.

“Ah. Good riddance.” She heard Daisuke say snidely as she hopped ahead and into the brush once they made it to the edge of town.

‘I could say the same about you.’ Shinobu thought to herself, ‘if anything happens to that haori especially, the problems you have now will be child’s play to what I’ll put you through.’

Though she traveled faster, leaving the innkeeper’s son behind her, Shinobu still had plenty of ground to cover. She was already tired from weeks of duty, not to mention she wasn’t used to traveling on four paws. However despite these difficulties, Shinobu managed to reach her estate’s beautiful gardens  just before dinner. Her little paws ached, but she was home.

She walked through the garden, admiring the blooms and foliage as she steadily made her way to the engawa. The weather was fair, so hopefully she’d find an open door somewhere.

Then the flowers ahead of her started to shake and she stiffened momentarily before relaxing as the voices of Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho registered in her ears.

“And then— oh! A kitty!” Kiyo interrupted herself, awestruck as she and the other two girls made their way to the end of the garden where the vegetables were grown. Sumi and Naho were quick to join in, cooing at Shinobu causing her light embarrassment.

“How did you get here, little one? Are you lost?” Naho smiled, presenting her hand for Shinobu to sniff. Obviously, Shinobu didn’t go for it.

“Mow.” Shinobu shook her head, trying to show the girls she was no ordinary cat. They didn’t seem to catch on unfortunately.

“It’s so cute! Do you think we could keep it?” Sumi asked.

“Shinobu-sama would never let us. She thinks furry animals are messy.” Naho replied dejectedly.

“You’re right.” Sumi pouted.

“Well...” Kiyo spoke up after a moment of silence. “Shinobu-sama isn’t back yet. What if we could get (Y/n)-sama to agree to let us keep it?”

“Good idea!” Sumi jumped a bit with excitement, “Even if Shinobu-sama doesn’t like the idea, she’ll accept it if (Y/n)-sama said it was okay.”

‘My my, Kiyo, Sumi. I did not think you would try using my own lover against me in such a way.’ Shinobu thought to herself, begrudgingly allowing herself to be picked up by Sumi as the other two gathered at her sides, gently stroking her fur.

“I don’t know, aren’t you two worried it might strain their relationship if they don’t make the decision together?”  Naho asked nervously, though she eagerly patted the top of Shinobu’s head.

“No way. They love each other too much to let one cat get in the way of all that.” Kiyo shook her head, “Besides, we’ll take care of it. Shinobu-sama won’t even have to see the kitten if she doesn’t want to.”

‘My, what schemers these girls are growing into.’

“Girls? Is everything going alright out there?”

Shinobu’s ears perked up and she wiggled in Sumi’s arms to peer over her shoulder, absorbing the sight of (Y/n) standing on the engawa with her hand acting as a visor to shield her eyes from the setting sun as she squinted at the garden. Shinobu thought it was a crime that she couldn’t perceive colors as she could when she was human. She was sure the light of the setting sun bathed (Y/n)’s figure in a heavenly way. Oh how she had missed her.

“(Y/n)-sama!” The three girls cheered rushing towards the young woman standing on the engawa. Shinobu winced at the jaunty gait, the pace Sumi had set was throwing her around more than she would have liked.

“Oh dear,” (Y/n) smiled warmly, turning Shinobu’s heart into mush, “that doesn’t look like a vegetable.”

“(Y/n)-sama, can we keep her? Can we keep her please?” The girls pleaded. “We promise we’ll take good care of her. It will be like she’s not even here. Just give us a chance!”

“I have no doubt you three could take good care of a cat. You’re all very responsible, but you know Shinobu wouldn’t be happy living with a sheddy cat under her roof.” (Y/n) said, her smile becoming more sympathetic as she stared down at the youngest residents of the Butterfly Estate.

“Please, (Y/n)-sama. Shinobu-sama doesn’t even have to know. It can be our secret.” Sumi whispered conspiratorially.

“I’m sorry girls, but I’m just not comfortable making such a big decision without consulting with Shinobu first.” (Y/n) shook her head.

Upon seeing the dejected looks of the three girls before her, (Y/n) sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “You can come in and fix something for her to eat, but she can’t come inside, okay?”

“Okay...”

Shinobu would have been very pleased with (Y/n)’s decision, except she needed to be the exception to the verdict. She needed to get inside and get to her lab, not live out the rest of her days as a garden cat getting fed scraps while she watched all her loved ones mourn her sudden disappearance.

“Don’t forget to pull out some fresh veggies. Aoi and Kanao are waiting too—ah!”

Shinobu had wiggled free from Sumi’s arms and flung herself into the air, catching on the fabric of (Y/n)’s clothes and scrambling up to her chest as surprised arms moved on instinct to hold Shinobu up.

‘I could charm you as a human, I can do it in this form too, (Y/n).’

Shinobu butted her head against (Y/n)’s chin, her cheeks, wherever she could reach. She felt a rumble start to build at the back of her throat and realized she had begun to purr. (Y/n)’s scent seemed to be all encompassing, so much stronger than what Shinobu’s human nose could smell. It made her press harder, realizing just how much she had missed that scent, how she craved the familiarity.

“Oh, hello there. You sure are friendly, huh?” (Y/n) scratched behind Shinobu’s ear, Shinobu purred louder.

“Aw, she must really like you, (Y/n)-sama. You have to let her stay now!” Naho spoke, watching the cute scene with unrestrained joy.

“Naho, you know we can’t.” (Y/n) shook her head, now trying to dodge Shinobu’s bumps of affection while also trying to loosen Shinobu’s claws from her front so she could put her back down.

‘Come now, (Y/n). Don’t start playing hard to get now.’ Shinobu continued working her charm as best as she could, continuing her nudges and purrs, gently lapping (Y/n)’s knuckles with her tongue when her hands attempted to push her away.

“Affectionate little thing, aren’t you?” (Y/n)’s smile twitched, a bead of sweat roll down her cheek as she tried to pull the cat away from her body only to have her clothes pulled with her, the cat’s claws were secured and unyielding.

‘Only for you.’ Shinobu’s eyes glinted. She could see (Y/n) was wavering, if she could keep this up, she’d let her stay in no time.

(Y/n) looked down into the cat’s eyes. They felt strangely familiar. The way the cat stared back up at her made her feel small, not in a negative sense, more like they eyes reminded her of the vastness of the universe. Maybe they made her feel safe, unconditionally loved... (Y/n) shook her head, blood buzzed faintly through her cheeks and the tips of her ears. This was a cat. She really needed to pull herself together. She hoped Shinobu’s letter detailing her imminent return home was accurate.

“Mew, mow.” Shinobu mewed sweetly, the sound, paired with the sweet kitten licks penetrated deep into (Y/n)’s heart, making her sigh and slump her shoulders in defeat.

“Okay...”

“Yay!” The trio cheered, bouncing around (Y/n) as she held onto a pleased Shinobu with a guilty expression on her face.

“But!” She added quickly, “I’m not promising anything. When Shinobu comes back we’ll come to a final decision together. Don’t get your hopes up too high, alright?”

“Okay, (Y/n)-sama.” The girls were a little more subdued, but no less excited that the cat could stay with them, if just for a short time.

As soon as (Y/n) crossed the threshold into the estate, Shinobu loosened her kitty death grip and jumped out of (Y/n)’s arms to pad off to the kitchen. Though she was yelling at herself to go to the lab to try to fix herself first, hunger seemed to be driving her body in the direction of the aroma coming from the opposite side of the building.

“Look at you. You walk around as if you own the place.” (Y/n) spoke, a sound of amusement preceding her observation.

‘Because I do. Hopefully you’ll realize that soon enough.’

“What took so long, (Y/n)-sama?” Aoi asked, a small frown of concentration shaped her lips as she carefully prepared the food. Kanao turned to stare at (Y/n) and the sleek little shadow trailing behind her with a puzzled expression.

“Sorry. Um, Sumi, Naho and Kiyo had made a new friend in the garden who’ll be staying the night.”

“I see, shall I start preparing a room?” Aoi asked, not yet looking up from her cooking.

“I don’t think that will be necessary...”

“What do you mean, oh.” Aoi caught a dark movement at (Y/n)’s feet, the seeing the cat for the first time. Although she found it undoubtedly cute, her respect for Shinobu was not so easily swayed. “(Y/n)-sama, you can’t keep a cat in here!”

“I know,” (Y/n) pressed her hands together, “it’s only for a short while, I promise.”

“I can’t believe you let yourself get manipulated so easily. What would Shinobu-sama say?”

‘That (Y/n) trying to resist me would be like someone trying to stop an oncoming train with their bare hands. It’s just not plausible.’ Shinobu silently answered with a purr, sliding past (Y/n)’s ankles.

“I know, I tried, honestly! I really did.” (Y/n) swore.

“Fine. Remove it from the kitchen please at the very least. It’s unsanitary.” Aoi said, turning back to what she was doing.

“Right, sorry. The girls should be back from the garden soon. I’ll be back in a minute to help.”

(Y/n) scooped up Shinobu and took her out of the kitchen just as Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho were coming in with their basket from the garden.

“Great timing. Could you three take care of the cat while I help Kanao and Aoi finish up dinner?”

“Yeah!”

“You can count on us!”

“Here little kitty!”

Shinobu tried to latch onto (Y/n), but was quickly plucked from her arms by Kiyo. After Naho handed (Y/n) the basket, they ran off down the hall with (Y/n) calling after them.

“Be back in twenty minutes! Everything should be done by then.”

“Okay!”

***

Shinobu sat on the tatami floor, watching with amusement as the girls tried to get her to play with the crudely tied together cloth on a wooden pole. They even went as far as to demonstrate what they expected her to do with the device, pawing at it and rolling around on the floor.

“Come on, kitty. You can do it!” Sumi encouraged.

‘I love you children, but there is nothing you could say or do that would make me act so foolishly.’ Shinobu turned her nose away from the flopping cloth and made to leave the room, hoping (Y/n) and the others would have dinner ready by now.

Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho followed after her talking amongst themselves. Occasionally asking the black cat where she was going with such purpose.

When they made it to the dining area, (Y/n), Kanao and Aoi were already there. (Y/n) had only just knelt down at her spot at the table when Shinobu claimed the space in her lap, causing (Y/n) to jump in surprise at the sudden dark flash that rushed at her.

“Ah!”

“Wow, she must really, really like you, (Y/n)-sama.” Naho observed.

“Yeah, we just followed her here. It’s like she knew exactly where to go.” Sumi spoke with awe.

“I see...” (Y/n) smiled down at the black blob curled in her lap, it’s intelligent purple eyes looked back up at her. “I bet you’re hungry, hm?”

‘Yes, I haven’t eaten all day.’ Shinobu sighed to herself.

“(Y/n)-sama, we shouldn’t feed animals at the table.” Aoi pouted. “What would Shinobu-sama say?”

‘I’d say let’s make an exception just this once. Please, I’m starving.’

“Just this once, Aoi, please,” (Y/n) asked, setting up a little bowl of cat safe food before setting the bowl beside her on the floor. “More likely than not the cat will have to go when Shinobu comes back. Try not to let it bother you too much.”

Shinobu wiggled out of (Y/n)’s lap to the bowl of food next to her whilst Aoi released a resigned sigh, and waited for everyone to get situated.

“Ikatakimasu!”

“Meow.”

Everyone blinked and turned to the cat. Shinobu stared back, unblinking, waiting for someone to realize she was no ordinary cat.

Kanao tilted her head, flipped her coin, and shrugged slightly before turning back to her food. Aoi was mildly impressed but made no comment. She thought perhaps it had just been a coincidence that the feline happened to meow as they thanked each other for the work that had gone into making dinner tonight. The youngest girls made sure to voice their amazement, praising Shinobu for being such a smart kitty. (Y/n) let out a surprised giggle, calling the moment unbelievably cute before returning her attention to her food as well.

If Shinobu could adequately roll her eyes, she would. Instead she sucked it up and ate the food in the bowl (Y/n) had provided for her. She felt silly and unrefined eating in such a manner, face first in the ceramic, but the food was good and filling, making her feel much better.

After dinner was finished and everything was cleaned up, Shinobu ignored the younger girls’ pleads to come back to their rooms and trotted behind (Y/n) to their wing of the estate.

“You’re making me out to be some kind of villain, cat,” (Y/n) spoke to Shinobu as she waved sympathetically to the younger girls pouting at the opposite end of the hall, “Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho would really like to spend more time with you.”

‘As would I, but I need to be in the lab tonight if I’m ever going to figure out how to reverse this.’

As they approached Shinobu’s lab, she was pleased, but also annoyed to find that the door was already partially open. Making a mental note to find out who had been rustling around in her sanctuary, she made to enter the room only for the door to be slid shut in front of her.

“Sorry little kitty,” (Y/n) smiled down at Shinobu, “Shinobu would be less than pleased with me for not only letting a cat into the estate, but for also letting it have free reign of her lab. Can’t have you breaking any vials or toppling plants.”

“Mowww.” Shinobu moaned pitifully, pawing at the door. She looked up at (Y/n) with hope that she’d let her in. ‘You don’t understand, (Y/n). It’s me!’

“Aw, sorry buddy. That room is off limits.” (Y/n) then continued to walk around the corner.

Shinobu looked between her lab door and the corner (Y/n) disappeared behind a few times, her tail twitched in agitation.

‘Alright, no work is getting done tonight. I suppose it will feel nice to sleep in a familiar location with the warmth and comfort I’ve missed so dearly, even if she is actively blocking my progress with her good intentions.’ Shinobu quickly followed (Y/n) to their room and made to enter the space but was blocked by (Y/n)’s foot.

“No no, see? This is why you should have followed the other girls. I share this space with Shinobu, I can’t let you get fur all over the place and gods forbid anything happen to the goldfish. You’re a smart kitty, I’m sure you can figure out where to go.”

“Mowww, mew!”

“Goodnight, little kitty.” (Y/n) slid the door shut and Shinobu slumped against the floor, pathetically pawing at the edge of the door.

‘Why must you be so responsible and considerate?’ Shinobu meowed again, ‘I would kill to cuddle you right now. I would sit in a room full of writhing balls of sentient fuzz just for my welcome home kiss.’

Shinobu did not move from her spot, continuously clawing at the door, trying to hook a claw in the crack to nudge it open. Her persistence paid off and she managed to wiggle through the small opening she created and slip into the darkened room.

Shinobu was a bit embarrassed, had she tried to get into her lab as hard as she tried to get into her own bedroom, she might actually have gotten somewhere with an antidote. But now she was tired, and all she wanted to do was lay in that perfect space she saw between the curl of (Y/n)’s arm and her face.

‘It looks like I’m not the only one who misses someone.’ Shinobu simpered inwardly, noticing how (Y/n) was sleeping on the side of the futon that Shinobu usually slept in. Shinobu purred, walking across (Y/n)’s side and eliciting a sleepy laugh from the girl without waking her. She slid into the space she had staked claim of and curled up, rubbing her face against (Y/n)’s cheek. She couldn’t help but purr louder as (Y/n) unconsciously pulled Shinobu closer and buried her face in her furry side.

“Shinobu... be safe.” (Y/n) mumbled before stilling once more.

‘I’m safe, I’m right here with you. I hope you realize it soon.’

***

The next morning Shinobu woke earlier than (Y/n). She didn’t want to make (Y/n) worry about the cat somehow getting into the room so she gave her a few quick kitten licks before slipping out of the room. If she had to be a cat for an indeterminate amount of time, she didn’t want (Y/n) trying to find a better way to keep her out of their room.

She trotted around the corner to begin working her lab door open again but was quickly thwarted by Kanao who had happened to be walking by. The quiet girl had picked her up by the pits of Shinobu’s front legs and held her out in front of her with her head tilted to the side as if searching for something.

‘Yes, Kanao. You can tell can’t you? You can tell that I’m your sister and not some common stray.’

“Cute.”

‘Kanao!’

The young Tsuguko put Shinobu in a more comfortable hold and continued to walk away from the lab until she happened upon Nezuko and Tanjirou. The Kamado siblings coddled Shinobu. Nezuko was particularly entranced and hummed happily as she patted Shinobu’s soft head. The Hashira was rather tired of all the touching, but with the firm hold Kanao had on her small body, escape was not an option. At least Inosuke and Zenitsu were out on missions. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle them in this state.

Within the next hour, the rest of the butterfly girls joined in and they moved the little get together outside. Even Aoi gave a tentative scratch behind Shinobu’s ear as they all enjoyed the warmth of the day under the shade of the engawa. That is, until they heard (Y/n) speaking to someone near the estate entrance sounding very distressed. Kanao and Tanjirou went to investigate while the others stayed behind.

Shinobu had been passed off to Aoi, but she wriggled out of her arms to sprint in (Y/n)’s direction to give whoever was making her so upset a taste of her claws. She slowed to stand just behind (Y/n) when she realized that the person she was talking to was the boy from the inn with her belongings.

‘Took him long enough.’ Shinobu thought.

“What do you mean you don’t know where she went? You just saw all her belongings sitting there and thought it was perfectly normal for someone to disappear without warning?” (Y/n) spoke, yelling more out of worry than anger as she pressed the bag to her chest.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger okay?” Daisuke asked, a lazy smile on his face. His eyes wandered over (Y/n)’s figure in a way that made Shinobu furious. “People come and go all the time. Though I gotta say, it’s a real shame she left you hanging. I would never keep a pretty girl like you waiting.”

“Shinobu isn’t like that!” (Y/n) shot back, her eyebrows knit and jaw set. “Did you not even think about contacting the local authorities, anything?”

“Listen, sweetheart,” Daisuke took a couple steps forward, looming over (Y/n), “Unfortunately, it’s my dad who calls the shots and he sent me here to return these belongings and retrieve a lump sum of yen for the service. Now, on the subject of payment... I wouldn’t mind turning a blind eye for a night on the town. What do you say?” He reached out, presumably to tilt (Y/n)’s chin up, but his hand quickly dropped and he shouted in pain. He and (Y/n) looked down at their feet to witness Shinobu biting the ever loving shit out of Daisuke’s ankle.

Daisuke hopped around from one foot to the other, trying to dislodge the cat from his feet. It was like Shinobu was a liquid shadow of teeth and sharp little claws like knives. When Daisuke reached for her, she scrambled to the other leg to give it the same treatment.

(Y/n), now fully joined by Kanao and Tanjirou, watched in stunned silence as the small terror weaved through the young man’s legs.

“Sh... should we stop it?” Tanjirou asked hesitantly.

Kanao shrugged and (Y/n) let out an exasperated sigh.

“Little kitty, please stop!” (Y/n) asked half heartedly, it was a cat after all. It’s not like it would stop just because she— oh, it stopped.

Shinobu batted the man one last time with her claws before sitting before (Y/n). The little shimmy of her hind legs and tail were enough of a sign for (Y/n) too quickly pass the bag off to Kanao so she could catch nightmarish feline who now seemed as docile as a lamb, purring up a storm and lapping at (Y/n)’s jaw.

“What the hell?!” Daisuke hissed, applying pressure to a particularly nasty scratch on the back of his ankle.

“Sorry, I’ll have someone patch you up right away.” (Y/n) said, adjusting her hold on Shinobu so her sandpaper kisses wouldn’t rub the delicate skin of her face raw, “Tanjirou, could you find a kakushi for me? Tell them to bring water, bandages, and disinfectant. Kanao, take Shinobu’s belongings to our room, then come straight back. We need to figure out what happened and where she could be.”

“Meow.”

‘I’m here, (Y/n). Please don’t look so worried.’

“Wait a minute,” Daisuke had moved to sit fully on the ground to hold his cuts and shredded pants. He squinted up at the cat in (Y/n)’s arms, “I know that scrawny little— I thought you would have gotten eaten by a hawk by now you mangy pain in the ass!”

“You know this cat?” (Y/n) asked.

“Yeah, it’s yours, isn’t it?” Daisuke spat. “Your little lady friend left it at the inn with the rest of her shit.”

“That can’t possibly be true, Shinobu dislikes furry animals. She wouldn’t travel with a cat.” (Y/n) shook her head, not even allowing the notion Daisuke brought forward to fully process in her mind because of how ridiculous it sounded.

“My lady, you called for assistance?” The kakushi called as they made their approach, Tanjirou still following.

“Yes, please see to this man’s injuries,” (Y/n) balanced Shinobu over her shoulder so she could take out her money pouch. She counted out the yen, adding a bit extra for the physical damages and presented it to the innkeeper’s son, “After they have taken care of you, please leave the premises immediately.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Daisuke growled, roughly snatching the money out of (Y/n)’s hand. Shinobu glared at him, an unhappy noise gurgled at the back of her throat that made the young man flinch and cower.

Once (Y/n) was sure the kakushi had everything under control, she headed back to the engawa with Tanjirou just as Kanao re-emerged. The other girls who had been sitting and watching from a far questioned (Y/n) with worried expressions.

“Is it true? Is Shinobu-sama missing, (Y/n)-sama?” Kiyo asked.

“Yes,” (Y/n)’s voice wavered, yet she kept a brave face, “we need to prepare a search party immediately.”

“Nezuko and I will help in any way we can. I have a good grasp on Shinobu-san’s scent. I’ll find out if Inosuke and Zenitsu are close enough to help too.” Tanjirou offered, ever helpful. Nezuko hummed in agreement with her brother.

‘What, I don’t even smell the same like this?’ Shinobu signed.

“Just leave it to us.” Kanao spoke up, she patted (Y/n)’s arm, trying to comfort the older girl.

“Just be careful.” (Y/n) replied, cradling Shinobu in one arm so she could give Kanao a hug with the other. “If you need any extra assistance, supplies... we’re just a crow away.”

“We will find her.” Kanao spoke softly but no less seriously, giving (Y/n) a slight nod of determination.

Tanjirou loaded Nezuko into her box and Kanao prepared some supplies and they headed out, leaving the rest of the girls to finish chores and tend to the infirmary. Worry over what fate had befallen Shinobu hung heavily in the air. If only they knew that she was right there at their feet.

The rest of the day was eerily quiet. (Y/n) did her best to keep everyone’s spirits up. When night fell, all the girls held in a little tighter when they came to give (Y/n) a hug good night. Even Aoi, who often wouldn’t participate in the little bedtime ritual, came looking for a bit of comfort before heading to bed.

Shinobu had tried all afternoon to give some sign that she was the silky black cat, but to no avail. At bedtime she was much more desperate to get into her lab. She tried to work the door open, but found in was much more sturdy, heavy, than the door to her bedroom.

Just as Shinobu was starting to give up, she heard muffled sniffling coming from around the corner and her heart twinged. She quickly turned the corner and began working the corner of the bedroom door, her sharp ears caught every devastating sound (Y/n) made.

“Oh Shinobu, where are you?”

‘I’m here! Please don’t cry!’

Another pull of her claw edged the door open just enough for Shinobu to slip inside. The scene before her broke her heart.

(Y/n) was curled up on Shinobu’s side of the futon, now with Shinobu’s haori draped over her as she tried to keep her tears and shuddering, hitched breathing to herself.

Shinobu wasted no time hopping into the bed. She butted her head against (Y/n)’s hands, willing her to remove them from her face. (Y/n) startled, taking in a particularly loud breath of air before sliding her hands down her face to look at her intruder. Her eyes closed momentarily when Shinobu bumped heads with her again, bopping her forehead and the bridge of her nose.

“H-how did you get in here, huh?” (Y/n) sat up, rubbing the tears from her eyes. She tried to regain even breaths but it wasn’t coming easily.

“Mrroowww.” Shinobu whined, trying to form sounds that her vocal chords could not create. She circled around the arm (Y/n) was using to prop herself up, wishing she could just hold her and tell her everything was alright.

“I just love her so much. If only I was a demon slayer too, then I could—“ (Y/n)’s back racked as more tears squeezed passed her eyelids. “I’m so weak— ah!”

Shinobu bit (Y/n)’s wrist, not hard, but with enough pressure to stop her lover from continuing her spiral. She soothed the small indents she left in (Y/n)’s skin with a few rough licks, looking up at her with pained, purple irises.

(Y/n) didn’t kick Shinobu out of the room and the Hashira did her best to soothe her. Eventually (Y/n) laid back down and fell into a restless sleep, her tear stained face shone in the moonlight that cascaded through the window. As she slept, Shinobu’s mind raced for a solution to this puzzle. She absolutely refused to allow this to carry on through another night.

Shinobu sat protectively curled around (Y/n)’s head. Her ears twitched with every little sniffle and shaky sigh that came from the unconscious girl. Shinobu scanned the room as she pressed her mind. How could she get their attention?

Her eyes wandered over to the desk near the door. (Y/n) had insisted it be put there after Shinobu had spent consecutive nights in her office or her lab writing reports or doing research. She had told Shinobu if she wanted to read and write all night, she could do it in their bedroom so (Y/n) at least had the illusion that Shinobu would come to bed when she was finished.

Ah, Shinobu had teased her about that for days afterward. It turned out to be a great idea though in Shinobu’s book. Whenever she got frustrated with her materials she would simply turn to watch the object of her affections sleep for a moment and a peaceful smile would claim her lips. Then she’d get back to her correspondences or research notes until her hands hurt and her fingers were smudged with ink. She recalled one all nighter in particular when she had flopped into bed around dawn and was awoken three hours later to (Y/n) scolding her for getting ink all over her.

Ink...

Shinobu’s eyes flickered across the desk, settling on the ink bottle tucked neatly in the corner. Yes, why hadn’t she thought of this before? Careful not to jostle (Y/n), Shinobu padded passed her little goldfish aquarium and leapt onto her desk, rustling a few papers but largely without incident.

Shinobu sighed inwardly at what she would have to do next. She walked up to the ink bottle and batted it to the floor, it’s contents spilling and staining the matted floor below.

‘I’ll need to replace this floor when I’m done here, won’t I?’

***

When (Y/n) woke up early the next morning, it was to a wet, slimy pressure on her cheek. She had initially tried to bat it away, but the force came back down on her lips and she turned away and spluttered, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

She looked down, her mouth fell open with surprise as she processed the black, sticky smudge that stuck to her skin.

“Meow.”

(Y/n) turned back around and gasped. Initially, you wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was out of place, but on closer inspection (Y/n) saw how the black cat’s fur appeared matted and wet on its front legs and if that wasn’t enough, the little black paw prints that littered the white sheets was certainly a give away.

“Oh my... bad kitty! Very, very, very bad kitty!” (Y/n) huffed, trying to roll out of the bedding without getting too much ink on herself.

Shinobu smirked inwardly, if she could laugh she would have. Despite the situation that led up to this moment, it was amusing to hear (Y/n) try to scold her. It was not at all her forte it would seem.

“Such a bad kitty! I’m going to punish you for this... ah! How do you even punish a cat?” (Y/n) fumed, taking in the extent of the damage.

Satisfied that (Y/n) was up, Shinobu made her way back to the desk, little black paw prints followed in her wake.

“That’s quite enough! I’d like to not have to replace the whole floor if I can help it, you little...” (Y/n) followed after Shinobu and scooped her up, she happened to glance at the floor near the base of the desk and the words died on her tongue. At first, she thought it was just the scene of the crime where all went wrong, but after a second glance, she noticed swoops and slashes that looked suspiciously like hiragana characters. (Y/n)’s lips fell open as she finally took the whole scene in.

‘Demon blood cat poison. I’m Shinobu.’ Was painstakingly written on the floor.

“Shinobu...?” (Y/n) stared down at the cat in her arms with manic eyes scanning over every inch of the small cat.

Shinobu blinked slowly and nodded.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) cried, holding the cat closer to herself, uncaring of the inky paws that pressed into her yukata. “I was so worried! I’m glad you’re alright!”

“Mow.”

“You need to get in the lab, don’t you? I’ll get you whatever you need, dear.” (Y/n) carried Shinobu to the lab and slid the door open. Closing the door behind her, she set Shinobu down on a clear table and nervously wrung her hands. “Okay, what do you need?”

Shinobu took a moment to ponder. Really it couldn’t be much different than the antidote she created for the slayers who had been turned to spiders on Natagumo Mountain. She walked to the edge of the table and pointed a paw in the direction of one of her medicine cabinets and (Y/n) opened it, pointing at every vial until Shinobu nodded at the one she wanted. After an hour more of awkward directing, they had a few new solutions to try. (Y/n) prepared the first syringe and looked at Shinobu with concern.

“Are you sure about this?” (Y/n) asked.

Shinobu held out her front paw in reply.

There was no immediate change, but after a few minutes, the small cat began to grow and bubble. The fur melted away and before long what remained on the table now was a naked young woman with severe bed head covered in sticky, partially dried ink.

Shinobu fell forward, exhausted by the change, but (Y/n) caught her and straightened her back into an upright position and hugged her tightly.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) cheered, she couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes and she sobbed into Shinobu’s neck.

Shinobu smiled tiredly, her voice sounded like it would when she woke up first thing in the morning as she chuckled and pulled (Y/n) closer to herself, “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m okay. Please don’t cry, you know I hate it when you do.”

“I’m trying,” (Y/n) hiccuped, “I just missed you so much!”

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, kissing the top of (Y/n)’s head.

They stayed there in each other’s arms for a few minutes quietly swaying before (Y/n) pulled back a bit, remembering how everyone was worried sick and needed to know that Shinobu was alright.

“I’ve got to send word to Kanao and the others that you’re okay! We have to tell everyone! Oh, but you should put on some clothes first.” (Y/n) added sheepishly, seemingly only just noticing Shinobu’s current state of undress. Shinobu giggled.

“I’d prefer to wash off this ink before putting anything on. Wouldn’t want to ruin anything.”

“You certainly did enough of that.” (Y/n) laughed, recalling the mess Shinobu made of the floor and their sheets. “But the bath is much too far to try to get by undetected. We’d have much better luck running around the corner to our room.”

“Mm, I suppose you have a point.” Shinobu slid off the table and stood on slightly wobbly legs, cupping (Y/n)’s face with her stained hands. “But before we go, can I have my welcome home kiss? I’ve been dying to receive it.”

(Y/n) smiled, interlacing her hands behind Shinobu’s neck and pulled her in. The first couple seconds were great, but when the kiss got more involved, both girls broke apart with small grimaces. The taste of ink on their tongues was not at all pleasant.

(Y/n) peeked around the corner and down the hall and after a moment she nodded at Shinobu, signaling her forward. They slipped out of the lab and quickly shot into their bedroom. As Shinobu got dressed, (Y/n) prepared a crow to deliver the good news to Kanao that she and the others could return home. Then the couple left their room to visit the younger girls.

“You don’t think the girls will be too disappointed to realize they don’t have a cat anymore, do you?” Shinobu asked.

“To have you back? They’ll be ecstatic.” (Y/n) grinned, bumping sides with Shinobu.

And true to (Y/n)’s word, upon seeing Shinobu, Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho jumped at her and smothered her with hugs and relieved tears. After they had calmed down and learned the story, the youngest three started to giggle.

“(Y/n)-sama, you have a paw print on your cheek.” Sumi pointed out, gleefully.

“And your mouth has ink smeared over it too, like Shinobu-sama.” Naho added.

“How did that happen?” Kiyo wondered.

“I’ll give you three guesses.” Aoi rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as (Y/n) and Shinobu laughed.

After they caught up with the girls, (Y/n) and Shinobu veered off to the bath, washing off the ink as best they could from their bodies.

Just before nightfall, the search party returned with the added bonus of Inosuke and Zenitsu being as rambunctious as ever.

“I can’t believe you got turned into a cat! Dumb Shinobu! The Great Inosuke would never!” Inosuke cackled, abruptly stopping only when a dark aura swirled around Shinobu, a plastic smile on her lips daring Inosuke to continue.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Kanao spoke quietly, allowing herself to relax as Shinobu pulled her in for a tender hug.

After such an emotionally exhausting day, everyone returned to their rooms prepared for a much better night’s sleep than the last.

“No paperwork tonight?” (Y/n) teased as Shinobu practically dove I to the fresh bedding with a tired moan.

“Come here so I can cuddle you properly tonight.” Shinobu said, motioning (Y/n) over.

“Gladly.”

When (Y/n) was settled in Shinobu’s arms both girls blinked at each other as the sound of purrs permeated the air. Shinobu touched her throat, feeling the flesh rumble below her fingers.

“Lingering side effect?” (Y/n) tilted her head.

“I suppose... hopefully this doesn’t persist for long.”

“I think it’s cute.” (Y/n) smiled, kissing Shinobu’s cheek.

Before long the couple fell asleep to the quiet rumblings that resonated from Shinobu’s throat, happily tangled in each other’s limbs at last.