#Burdens when she was carrying hers .I just wish she didn’t completely dump me for someone else and that she would care more about

[redrosesandcharmingsouls]

Months ago I was so happy to hang out with this friend of mine and now we’re not even friends anymore

[jokertrap-ran]

(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) Clarence Route Translations (Chapter 16-2 阿萝拉: Aurora)

*For All Time Master-list / Clarence’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Maintaining Si Lan’s name as Clarence *Route Tag is #Chapter of Legacy

I carried the napping Aurora back to the Mage Tower.

Seeing how her body was becoming horribly cold, I held her with my own body as she slept.

It was a while later that she turned, looping her arms around my neck.

Aurora: I'm a little cold… Uncle told me that I should sing loudly whenever I'm cold...

Saying so, she started singing in a gossamer-like voice by my ear.

Aurora: Stars are sleeping, snow gently falling. Where has the butterfly gone; for my hand still holds the fragrance of flowers…

She sang in short bursts. Maybe it was because she was still unfamiliar with it, or perhaps it was because she was distracted by something else.

Aurora: That Uncle sings it so well. Sadly, Aurora hasn't completely learnt it…

She hugged me tighter to her because of how cold she felt. Her other hand reached over to press itself against her stomach. I knew her stomach was still hurting.

Clarence said that these were all drawbacks of being a Mage.

But for a child so young? On what grounds, does she have to be bearing this immense burden for the sake of the world?

I didn't know what to do. All I could do was to hold her small body tightly within my arms…

A night passed.

It was very quiet when I awoke.

No, something's wrong. Aurora should be beside me, and she's gone! Did… Did Clarence deal away with her already, since she was on the verge of losing control?

I hurriedly got up and recalled what Sun Zhuoyi had told me yesterday. I felt a gut-dropping sense of unease. I MUST find her!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I quickly smoothed out my clothes and went hunting for her up and down the Mage Tower.

The carriage was already ready and waiting outside the Mage Tower. Clarence was giving Aurora the instructions to her assignment in front of it.

I got a little closer to them and listened in on their conversation.

Sounds like Aurora’s mission this time is to clear out the Rebel Mages who worked under the Silver Knight.

The Silver Knight had managed to rope some Rebel Mages into his plans and allowed them to attack the Palace, as well as the residences of Nobles. I’ve also vaguely seen the aftermath of the chaos caused by the Rebel Mages before, in my previous journeys.

To my knowledge of the matter, they’d managed to successfully scare the Aristocrats, but they were all quickly dealt away with by Clarence himself, so nothing particularly serious happened.

But this time, upon overhearing Clarence as he explained Aurora’s task to her, I knew; This wasn’t the slightest bit simple at all.

The Silver Knight has been pulling out all stops and laying out the groundwork every step of the way in his plans to attack the Capital. Not only did he have Ordinary Mages under his control, but also a team of Mages that were already out of control.

The Silver Knight utilized potions to forcefully alter the Mages into a half-butterfly metamorphosis― He coerced the Mages to consume the potion of their own accord, making them willingly fall into a state of nearly losing control, before maintaining this state through the use of another potion.

A Mage in this state had icy wings in place of arms and their entire body covered in ice crystals. Their sanity will be on the brink of madness, yet they still hold a sliver of consciousness.

Of course, when under excruciating pain, the only thing they can process is to kill, destroy, and freeze everything. And Clarence’s method of dealing with this impending “destruction”, was to “engulf” it all.

He’d decided to send out Aurora, one of the “Nine Seats'' to deal with the matter. He told her that she didn’t need to care about who, or what was on the other end, merely to treat them as Ice Butterflies and devour them all.

Aurora: Wow. Aurora can eat till she’s full if there are that many monsters this time. Right?

Clarence: That’s right. You’ll be able to eat to your heart’s content this time. And then after you’re done… Do make sure to get a good night’s sleep. You will not feel cold anymore, and neither will your stomach hurt ever again after you fall asleep this time.

I felt my eyes dampening.

Aurora… She really doesn’t know, does she…?

This was a death sentence in the farce of a mission. However, Clarence was as calm and unwavering as ever as he delivered Aurora the details of her mission. While Aurora, on the other hand, was only worried about whether she could “eat till she was full”.

The fate of all Mages was to be born in the throes of desire, pain, and suffering; and also, to fall into the spiral of madness and depravity.

It was then that Clarence breathed a light sigh.

Clarence: Do you hate me, Aurora?

Clarence actually asked another about their thoughts on him? I’d long since thought that he’d forgo how others saw him, given his personality...

Aurora wore a blank look of utter confusion. She looked up at Clarence, unable to come up with an answer even after thinking for a good long while.

Clarence: I am the Master of the Mage Tower. I should be the one guiding and protecting all of you Mages.

Clarence: However, you are all nought but tools to me. I use you, I sacrifice you… I watch you all die, one-by-one… Yet, I do not bat an eye.

Clarence: It would only make sense if you were to hate me for what I did.

With how he was bemoaning with lament at this point, rather than talking to Aurora about it, it might as well just be him, criticizing himself with his own monologue.

He was blaming himself for being as icy and closed-off as he was.

— Does this mean that somewhere deep down in that heart of his… Clarence has a heart that feels for all the Mages under him?

Aurora: Hate…? You mean, not liking you? Aurora doesn't dislike you, Master Clarence~

Aurora: Aurora doesn't like being hungry. Aurora has always been hungry before meeting you.

Aurora: Aurora cried back home and kicked up a fuss, asking dad for food. Dad took Aurora and dumped Aurora by the river, picking up many hard pieces of bread to eat.

Aurora: Aurora doesn’t like hard bread, but Aurora was just so hungry… So, Aurora ate them all down anyway.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

… I could guess what the “hard bread” she was talking about really was. I’d heard of a distant legend about the olden times, where the poor would feed their offspring stones in place of food during times of famine...

The children who ate stones will die, but at least that would save some food for the rest of the family.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Aurora: Aurora always got a tummy ache whenever Aurora eats the hard bread, but Master Clarence gave Aurora medicine to drink. It was bitter, but Aurora’s stomach no longer hurt after drinking it.

Clarence: I’m not doing a good deed. Your strong desire for food, “gluttony”, was what drew me in. I merely thought that you had the potential to become a Mage.

Clarence: I took you under my wing, taking you to the Mage Tower. I offered you all the delicacies that Yemsaiel has to offer. Yet, at the same time, I required you to devour Ice Butterflies. Your stomach still hurts all the same.

Aurora tilted her head in thought. She patted the sides of her head, seemingly trying to make sense of what Clarence was trying to say...

After a while, Aurora started sucking on her thumb in thought, apparently none the wiser.

Aurora: Err… I still have stomach aches, but I can’t blame you for that, Master Clarence. You’re a Mage… not someone who treats bad tummies...

Aurora: I heard that you’d get a stomach ache from eating too much, and I can’t stop myself from eating… So, I think it’s pretty normal for me to be getting tummy aches...

Aurora: So be it then! I like to eat! And I’m super happy when I’m eating! You let me eat all I want, Master Clarence! Of course, I like you!!

Clarence: ……

Clarence stays silent for a while before sighing gently.

As pure and innocent as Aurora was, there was nothing Clarence could say to make her understand the truth.

It was probably only because of her naive earnestness as a young girl that allowed her to concentrate as much as she did on her Magic, hence the reason why she was able to attain the rank of one of the “Nine Seats” at such a young age.

Suddenly, Aurora jumped in front of Clarence and patted his face.

Aurora: Stop pulling such a long face, Master Clarence...

Aurora: The Mage Tower is very noisy. There are always people yelling and crying, but everyone also has times where they smile. Only you, Master Clarence. You've never smiled.

Aurora: Aurora smiles when Aurora's full, and the others smile when their wish is fulfilled.

Aurora: Aurora is thinking that Master Clarence's wish hasn't been fulfilled yet. Aurora hopes that it'll be fulfilled soon~

Aurora: Although, even if Aurora might already be asleep by then… Aurora will still be happy! Just like when Aurora has a full stomach!

Hearing Aurora's words, the realization finally dawned on me that she never truly understood anything. She was as clueless as they came.

Clarence paused for a moment before reaching out, caressing her hair and touching her face.

Clarence: How cold… The skin of all Mages is always cold to the touch. I apologise for making you turn out like this.

Clarence: I create all of you, let all of you grow and indulge in all of your desires. And in part, I've also made all of you the very thing feared and hated by the world.

Clarence: But at the same time, I'm also aware that all of you are the true victims, the true sacrifices, of this world.

Clarence: I am incapable of saving you all. But not letting your sacrifices be in vain is the least I can do.

After that, Clarence's lips parted slightly into a faint chuckle.

Clarence, he… he's really laughing…

Aurora was elated, skipping in front of Clarence and jumping up to pull his cheeks upwards.

Aurora: He’s laughing… This is the first time I’ve seen Master Clarence laugh!

Actually squishing Clarence’s face like that… Only Aurora would ever dare to do such a thing…

Clarence wasn’t mad, only maintaining his smile.

Clarence: Aurora. I treat all the Mages here in this Mage Tower as my pawns, with no emotional attachment whatsoever. But that is only because I do not want anyone to influence my emotions, and the decisions I make.

Clarence: — But that doesn’t mean that all the time I’ve spent with all of you is meaningless to me. I do not regret the time I spent with any of you.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥Chapter of Legacy✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Previous Part: (Chapter 16-1) | Next Part: (Chapter 16-3)

[docholligay]

Ghost Story

Sometimes I can do things for me, as a treat!! Total universe is here for timeline

Pharah was a woman of action. When Mercy did not know what to do or say, she would pray, and while Pharah wished she had the sort of faith that could give her that strength, the only religion she had ever bent to was that of order. This was what she could do. She could clean Tracer’s nails. She could comb her hair. She could wash and dress her, and ready her to be cremated. 

Others had offered, but Pharah had insisted. It would be too much for Emily and Winston, who had cared so much for her in the last months of her life. They should be permitted to simply mourn. Mercy had done the autopsy, sent out the samples to try to learn something from all this, and that had been enough to expect from her. Her family was preparing everything for her funeral. The rest of the Overwatch team had duties Pharah had assigned to them. 

She would have said all of these were the reasons she had chosen to do it, but there was also the matter of care. Pharah knew that few people had her sense of perfection, her sense of drive and completion, and so it was only Pharah that could be trusted to make sure that her body was properly prepared. It was a duty, something she owed Tracer, to make sure her final appearance in this world was a correct one. 

She smoothed the front of Tracer’s shirt. Mercy’s work had been exceptionally neat and careful, even for her, and the stitches had been so tightly spaced and small, with transparent thread, her own labor of love, that you would have been forgiven for not knowing Tracer had been autopsied at all. Pharah looked at Tracer, dressed in the clothes Emily had given Pharah, washed and straightened and ready for the coffin in the corner, a cheap wooden thing Tracer had purchased herself. 

She considered a moment. Something was wrong. She nodded as it came to her, and reached down, ruffling her hand through Tracer’s too-straight hair, letting the cowlicks fly up. 

“You won.” She looked down at Tracer’s body, “I saved your life once, and you saved my life twice. You died with the greater score. Congratulations.” 

“Saved your life once, Fareeha, in a bleeding miserable patch of desert outside Cairo. Not that I ‘ate winning, mind, but its the principle of the bloody thing.” 

Pharah stepped back in what was nearly a stumble, and looked at the body in front of her. It had not stirred, still cold, and grey, the cheekbones still too sharp and sunken, eyes closed, breath still, heart stopped.

“God, but I look bloody awful,” Pharah’s entire body stiffened at the sound of it, the clear, bouncing impossibility of it, “Not to say as you didn’t do your best, Fareeha, but, you know, cor, blimey, and what the ‘ell..” A giggle. 

“I have not slept well in days,” Pharah said, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, “I have been stressed. I have been jailed. Lena was close to me. I have been thinking of nothing but her.” 

“And I am sorry about that, love,” Out of the corner of Pharah’s eye, a motion at her side, “But I suppose it would ‘ave been the same if it were this week or a year from now, right? Right.” The question she always asked and answered. “Sides all that, if Ang was telling the truth, and of course Ang always tells the truth, about these sorts of things, it would have been a bit of a rough go, dying that way. Maybe would have been worse memories, than me just sort of….” Pharah looked to her as she made a fluttering gesture, “fading away in Win’s arms.” She grinned. “Fareeha?” Her eyes widened. 

“You are,” she took a breath,”  a hallucination.”  

“Right,” Tracer nodded, “you're speaking English because you don’t think I can ‘ear you. Makes sense.” 

Pharah looked at her, and down at her body, and back to her. The Tracer in front of her had round, pink apples back in her cheeks, her eyes were clear and bright with no sign of pain in them, and her voice chirped and popped with joy. The blue RAF shirt she wore fit her neatly, all that muscle that had gone from the body in front of her apparently restored, and her tan corduroy pants wrinkled and straightened as she rocked on her heels. 

The effect was so perfect that tears prickled in Pharah’s eyes. Her brain was a cruel thing. 

“Oh, it’s all right, you big ol Turkish delight!” The hallucination swatted at her, and then launched herself onto the edge of the table where her body lay, dangling her feet, “We all die, don’t we?  I always did rush things, a bit. But I’m alright now, nothing to worry about, love.” 

Pharah stared down at the body, unmoving even as the unmistakable feel of her filled the room. She is dead, Fareeha. You were there when she took her last breath. You carried her body up here. You slipped off her wedding ring and gave it to Emily. Lena Oxton is dead. 

“I am hallucinating.” Pharah said it like a prayer, letting it ring out against the walls. 

“No you ain’t, love.” Tracer barely missed a beat. “Wish you’d all ‘ave let me just ‘ave me body dumped out the door. Seems a waste, this, even after all I saved doing it meself.” She jumped off the table and scampered around to Pharah’s other side. “‘Ave you always been able to see ghosts, Fareeha? You never did tell me that! Leave it to you, ‘ave a secret like that. I’ve nothing like that. Me thumb’s double jointed, I suppose.” She giggled and bounced, flashing a bright smile. 

Pharah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Rest. All she needed was rest. And still, these mantras being true, a tear sprung from her eye, and rolled down her cheek. 

“Oh God Fareeha, but I ‘ate seeing you cry. I’m only dead, love, and you’d be surprised--”

“I am not sad that you are dead.” She said, the words barely coming out. 

Tracer gave a bark of a laugh. “Wasn’t expecting that. Bit ‘arsh, love, bit ‘arsh.” 

“I am sad,” she gave another slow, deep breath and opened her eyes, “Because when I imagine you this way,” she indicated to her side but did not look there, “I am reminded of how very sick you became. I never told you this, when you were alive. I will not burden you with it.” 

Tracer paused for a moment, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “All right love, all right, but,” She dashed around to the far side of the table where body lay, facing Pharah, “‘Allucination is all I am, right? So it’s only you talking to yourself, not burdening me with nothing, innit? And maybe you’ll feel a bit better, saying whatever it is.” 

Pharah looked at Tracer, whose eyes flicked around Pharah’s face, waiting. She had a point. To refuse to say this to Tracer meant she gave her hallucination power. Her hallucination was not real, and it was only a way to cope with the loss, and so she would only be putting in words what she already knew. 

Yes. This was the most logical path. 

“Watching you deteriorate was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced.” Pharah nodded. “Seeing you be taken, slowly. It hurt.” 

Tracer’s voice was soft, and her eyes were warm. “Could ‘ave told me, love.” 

Pharah huffed and shook her head. “Yes, I should have told you how bad your dying, your suffering, your struggle,  made me feel. That is a very responsible thing to do.” 

“Oh ease up, Amari,” Tracer rolled her eyes, “Talked about it with Win. With Ang. Ang cried, even, god but she felt so guilty. Wish I could tell her it wasn’t ‘er fault, and she did all by me, I mean, I did tell her that, but again, right? And you and me are friends. You ‘elped me, Fareeha, and I’s feeling useless, right? Might ‘ave been something I could have reassured you over, felt better. “ 

“Why would I complain to you about something that is my fault?” She looked bad down at Tracer’s body, somehow seeing her dead easier than the firework in front of her. 

“I do ‘ave to say that discovering you’ve been Moira O'Deodorant all this bloody time is a bit of a shock, love.” 

 Pharah turned away from the table, and put her hands behind her back, pacing just a little bit away, eyes flicking to the coffin now and again. 

“Do you remember when we were captured? And tortured?” 

“No, Fareeha,” came the annoyed chirp behind her, “completely bloody forgot about the most painful experience of me life, that ended up killing me, slipped me bloody mind, it did.” 

“My mind does a very good impression of you.” Pharah shook her head and tried to take a soothing breath. “You drew her anger. You needled at her, you annoyed her. You made her furious, and so she did not hurt me as badly as she did you.” 

“Alright,” she walked up next to Pharah, arms crossed, “What were you meant to do then? Die as well?” 

“I could have saved you,” The tears choked in her throat again, the painful guilt that had run through her mind with every one of Tracer’s struggles, her spasms and seizures and suffering, “If I had been faster with my tongue--” 

Tracer laughed. “Right, love, and if I was 190 centimeters, then. Fareeha,” She put her hand on Pharah’s elbow, and Pharah swore it felt warm, “I did what I did because I wanted to do it. You couldn’t ‘ave saved me, love, anymore than Ang could. Moira’d had it out for me for a bloody decade. Would have all ended the same, but,” she smiled, “I got to save you. And when things were ‘ard, I thought of that. She was going to kill me one way or the other, and you can count on that, but now I know Overwatch is in good ‘ands. Your ‘ands.” 

“Still--” 

Tracer put her hands on her hips and stood in front of her. “What you’re saying is you wish it was me felt guilty, instead of you? Not very kind of you, Fareeha, I’d be bloody miserable in your position, so you’re saving me a bit of trouble by ‘aving me die instead.” 

Pharah looked at her, letting the tears fall quietly. 

“I will miss you.” 

“Suspect you ‘aven’t seen the last of me,” she stood on her tip toes and wiped a tear from Pharah’s cheek, “Thank you, for ‘elping with me. This, but also, the washing, the cooking, everything, when I was poorly. For ‘elping Win and Em. I love you too, Fareeha.” 

“You can’t really be here.”

“Doesn’t matter, love, if I’m ‘ere or not. Makes you feel a bit better, seeing me, and let’s not worry too much about me reality. I’m ‘ere for now.” 

Pharah nodded, took a deep breath, and turned around, lifting the light body into her arms, and laid the shell of what had been a strange and wonderful friend into the unstained, plain little coffin. 

She chuckled as she stood up. “You spared every expense on this.” 

“Bloody fucking right I did, you see how much a casket is? To be set on fire?  That’s a shipping crate, it is, bought it online, ‘ad it shipped to the ‘ouse.” 

Pharah roared with laughter. There was no one like Lena, in this world, and if imagining her kept her here a little longer, well, maybe she would allow herself a little belief.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by calligomiles and me, johannstutt413)

It was the end of the day - almost time for Gummy to go home. Not that she really wanted to today; it seemed the Doctor needed everyone but her out in the field. Why couldn’t she go with them? Sure, she helped out in the kitchen, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t fight. All she wanted to do was help her friends…

Without people to cook for, the chef wasn’t sure what she wanted to do for dinner; while trying to decide for herself, someone else came into the room. “Excuse me, is anyone- Oh, hi, Gummy!”

“Blue?” She managed a smile. “You need the oven, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, I do...Are you okay?”

Gummy weighed her options: lie and say she was, tell her the truth but not the reasoning, or tell her everything...She settled for the middle road. “I could be better, I guess.”

“Did something happen?” The Anura uncovered a bowl of purple dough, her eyes remaining on the Ursus. “Normally you would be making dinner right now...Are they out on a mission?”

“Yeah...The Doctor sent everyone out except me.” She figured it out for herself, but then again, would you expect anything less from someone like her?

Blue Poison thought for a moment while Gummy debated leaving to grab dinner for herself. “Would you like to eat with me tonight, then?”

“Huh?” The question caught her completely off-guard. “I-I don’t want to bother you-”

“No, it’s not a bother at all. Actually, it’d be nice to not eat alone for once.” She said it casually, but the chef knew someone hiding their demons when she saw it; after all, she had to look in the mirror every morning.

Agreeing also meant she could focus on someone else’s problems, which was a great distraction from her own, and she didn’t have to worry about what she was doing for dinner. Blue really had come to her rescue. “That makes two of us, then. Can I help with the cake while we’re here?”

“Keeping me company is already a real help.” Still, there were a couple things she could do if Gummy wanted to keep herself busy - which, the Anura supposed, was why she’d asked. “Could you help me with the fryer? I’ve never used one before.”

“Sure! Are you frying a cake?” Gummy immediately started working on that.

The Anura did a ‘sort of’ gesture with one hand before using it to punch her dough. “I decided to try making donuts; since most of our Operators drink coffee, I thought they might be better received.”

“Better received?” The idea boggled the mind. “Your desserts are amazing already!”

‘I’m glad you think so...Not many people eat them, though.“

The oil was ready for Blue now, so the chef wandered over to where she was working to watch. “Why not? They’re really missing out.”

“They’re worried about my toxicity.” She didn’t want to abuse the dough too much, so she dumped it onto the floured cutting board and frowned. “Still too bubbly. Could you help me? I might not be strong enough.”

“Sure! What’s this about toxicity?” Gummy took over, slapping the dough with the back of her hand. One, two, stop; one, two, stop.

Blue picked up on her strange rhythm, but simply filed it away for the moment. “The others worry that I might leech some of my toxin into my baked goods. You’ve never seemed bothered by the thought.”

“You wouldn’t poison your co-workers, Blue; you’re not that kind of person.” She didn’t quite stop herself before adding. “Besides, there’s a chance it might work.”

“...What might work, Gummy?”

Shit, she said that out loud. “Um, nothi- no, no, I promised myself I wouldn’t lie to you.” Crunch went the cutting board as she accidentally followed through with a third slap.

“Wow.” There was a good chance there were splinters in the dough now, but the Anura could care less about that at this point. “You’re really strong.”

“Sorry! I didn’t ruin it, did I?”

...Frankly, Blue wasn’t sure, but that wasn’t what mattered right now. “Don’t worry about that. What might work, Gummy?”

“The um...the poison bit.” The Ursus didn’t want to cry in front of her, even though she’d already seen past the mask. “I wouldn’t mind if...if it killed me.”

“...Oh, Gummy...”

She backed away from the counter. “I think the board splintered when I broke it-”

“How long have you felt like this?” The Anura’s brain was working overtime to connect the dots between this revelation and what she knew about Gummy and her history. “What...what happened in Chernobog?”

“...I don’t want to talk about it.”

Fair. “I know, and I won’t force you to, but- I’m sorry, I just didn’t know...”

“That’s how I was hoping it’d stay.” The chef sighed, leaning against a stovetop behind her. “If the other girls knew how I actually felt about...about what we did, then I wouldn’t be able to help them by making them smile. I need to be happy so they’ll be happy, you know?”

“If you really think that, then I would think you would want to be happy yourself rather than pretend, though...right?”

Gummy shrugged. “It doesn’t matter that much how I really feel.”

“It absolutely does!” For the first time in years, Blue raised her voice. “Your feelings matter!...You matter, Gummy.”

“Then why am I still here while they’re out risking their lives?” One, two punches on the stovetop.

She didn’t have a concrete answer for that, but a few options came to mind. “Did they go on a mission together, or did they get split between different operations?”

“That doesn’t matter! If they’re fighting, then I should be fighting! That’s how it was back then...I wasn’t strong enough then, but I’ve gotten stronger…” It was getting really difficult to hold back. “I...I just don’t want them to get hurt anymore...Even if we deserve it.”

“There’s nothing you could have done to-”

That was the last straw; Gummy hopped back to her feet, a nearby pan (not hers, but it’d do) suddenly in her hand as if she was back in Peterheim. She could practically smell it. “You don’t know that! I killed people, Blue! Other students! And then I cooked them, so my friends and I could have something to keep us fed so we could fend off the others who would’ve done the same thing to us! We were worse than animals, because at least an animal doesn’t kill its brother when there’s another meal in front of them!...And now, after damning myself - not that they’ll ever know that - I spend every day in this kitchen, smelling the steaks and sausage on the stove and remembering the nights I spent grinding long pork so they didn’t know...I’m a monster, and- why is there a pan in my hand?” She tossed it behind her as if it’d burned her and held that hand at arm’s length with her other, staring at it. Did...did she almost attack Blue?

“...You still don’t deserve to be hurt.” The Anura closed the distance between them, looking her in the eye, hers brimming with tears and empathy. “None of that justifies someone hurting you. Yourself included.”

“I wish I could believe that.” She let go of her own wrist, and her hands fell to her sides, limp, as she felt the weight of it all fresh again.

Blue, mustering every ounce of courage she had, hugged her. “Even if you don’t, I...I won’t let you carry this all by yourself. Not after all you’ve done for me.”

“Done for you?” Gummy’s brow furrowed as she tried to think of what she’d done for the Anura. “What...eat your food?”

“You said hi, and you asked me about my day, and you talked to me, and you let me bake for you, and...you let me hold your hand.”

The chef blushed. “That’s not much-”

“It’s everything, Gummy. You’ve given me so much happiness, so much hope...Let me try to give something back to you. Let me share the burden - your fears, your worries, your sins and your scars...I’ll carry them with you, like you did mine.” She sniffled. “Please. I can’t imagine my life here without you.”

“Is that...really true?”

Blue buried her face in Gummy’s jacket. “Really. I- I can’t even think about it without...without...” She squeezed her, trying to remove even millimeters of space between them as she absolutely soaked the chef’s shoulder with tears.

“...I trust you.” She finally lifted her arms again, settling them around Blue’s waist and her cheek against the Anura’s. “I don’t want you to be alone, either.”

“Thank you...you’re so warm.”

Gummy nodded. “You are, too...Do you still want dinner? I can make us something.”

“I think we should go somewhere and eat; you’ve worked hard enough today.” She managed to compose herself a little again. “It’s been so long since someone has let me hug them. What are you hungry for?”

“Burgers. I know a place...Blue?”

The Anura still wasn’t letting her go. “Yes?”

“Since you...you want to stay, you should know that I have a few...habits.”

“I do, too.” She pulled away so they could start walking to the restaurant. “We can talk about them at the resta-”

Gummy held onto her hand and remained motionless. “There’s one I need to tell you about right now.”

“Oh.” At this point, Blue literally could not let go, so she simply stepped back into her arms. “What is it?”

“When I hug someone, I have to kiss them on the cheek.”

The Anura, without even thinking, asked, “Does it have to be on the cheek?”

“I’ve never tried another way.” Gummy blushed. “But if you’d rather...” Even though the suggestion was accidental, neither of them stopped themselves as they turned to look at each other directly, slightly tilted their heads, closed their eyes...

Gummy, from that day forward, had a new habit: whenever she saw Blue Poison, she felt like she might feel happy someday.

[rosegoldannie]

Tell Me no Lies Chapter 16

Hey! I’ve got another date with him tomorrow! Would you guys be opposed if i posted little updates of how things are going?

- Annie

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Aelin awoke to utter numbness, a cloud over her mind, muddling, mixing her thoughts. She went to stretch, then flinched out of reflex as a small tugging sensation spread up her spine.

A groan sounded from a few feet away, and she slowly glanced over to find Rowan curled up in a chair, snoring softly with his head turned towards her even in sleep.

“Ro,” She rasped, fingers gripping the scratchy blanket that covered her.

Instantly, he was awake and moving towards her, a hand going to smooth down her hair. “Princess,” He murmured, silver lining his eyes, “you’re awake.”

She could only nod, scooting across the bed to make room for him. Rowan caught her message, and easily slid into the bed with her, then gathered her gently against his chest.

That was how Sartaq and Dr. Rolfe found them, hours later when they came to check up on her. Rowan remained by her side, as Sartaq carefully explained that she had spondylolisthesis, that had never been discovered, and the most likely cause was the car crash.

Aelin immediately felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her. Her roommate’s arms simply tightened around her.

As if sensing her worry, Sartaq’s face softened. “I’m sorry, Aelin. I know how hard this is for you.”

She only nodded.

“The good news is,” he continued, “that we caught it just in time. If you’d carried on much longer, you’d have completely lost the ability to walk.” That cold feeling returned. “But, Aelin.” Sartaq leaned forward, and placed his hand comfortingly on her knee. “We caught it in time. You’re going to be okay.”

She at last lifted her head. “I am?”

He smiled warmly. “Yes. You’re going to make a full recovery.”

Rowan grinned, turning his head down to hers. “You hear that, A? You’re going to be alright.”

She was discharged from the hospital several days later. Rowan was absolutely always by her side, and all but insisted that she take at least until after the new year off of work.

Surprisingly, taking over six weeks off of work wasn’t the hell she had thought it would be.

Sure, Rowan was always by her side.

Sure, he was being an overbearing mother hen.

And sure, he was generally just driving Aelin insane.

But, every time he left the apartment, be it to go to the store, or to get the mail, he always came back with some of her favorite truffles.

As he entered with the fourth box for her today, Aelin huffed a sigh, and shook her head at him. “Are you serious, Whitethorn?”

He only grinned, tossed her the box. “Yes indeed.”

“I’m going to gain like twenty pounds by the end of the year if you keep this up.”

He sighed, then glanced out the window, to where snow was softly coming down in the early evening light. “Alright, get dressed. We’re going out.”

“What?! Where?” She stuttered, face turning a bright red. “I haven’t taken a shower in three days, Ro. My hair’s an absolute mess! And my skin-”

“-And yet you’re still breathtaking. Come on, go get dressed. Besides, you’re supposed to be walking every day for physical therapy.” He said it with such nonchalance that it took several moments to sink in. But when it did, Aelin felt as if the air had been ripped from her lungs, and she had been given a dose of pure adrenaline.

She froze, her jaw dropping. “What did you say?”

Rowan paled slightly, as if realizing he had spoken aloud. “I said…” For a split second, she saw indecision war across his face: to backtrack and deny, or forge ahead. “That you’re breathtaking.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s true.”

“No, why did you say it?” She pushed, heart beating wildly.

“Because you need to hear it.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at her feet. “Only because of that?”

Rowan sighed. Ran a hand through his silver hair. “No. Because it’s true. You just happened to need to hear it.” There was a slight pause at the end, as if he wasn’t yet finished, but he didn’t speak again.

Warmth flooded her, turning her face an even brighter red, and Aelin took that as an opportunity for her to slip into her - for once, thanks to Rowan - clean room. He had all but insisted on cleaning it for her, saying that the last thing she needed was to trip and fall.

Shaking her head at the memory of her roommate visciously organising her makeup drawers, and muttering to himself about how many different mascaras and lipsticks and blushes one person needs, she rifled through her dresser, withdrawing a pair of soft and worn sweatpants, and tossed them to her bed. Next, she searched for a particular shirt she had most certainly not stolen from Rowan; an old cross country t-shirt which was so worn that the graphics were cracked beyond recognition. But still, it smelled like him, and was warm.

Carefully, she changed out of her stained, smelly pajamas, and into the cool, fresh sweats and shirt. Instantly she felt better, and made her way over to her vanity, where she grabbed her hairbrush, and positively raked it through her golden locks. 

Next, she went for an unhealthy amount of dry shampoo, spritzing and spoofing and spraying until her hair looked at least a little bit clean.

After a moment of debate, she decided against putting on a full face of makeup, and settled for a few swipes of mascara and blush, to make her look just a little bit less dead. It didn’t do much, but hey, at least it did something. 

Digging through her drawers once again, she pulled on yet another one of Rowan’s hoodies, one from Terrasen University. It smelled like him, and her home. That pine and snow scent that permeated all of her childhood memories.

Rowan was lacing up his timberland boots when she returned. When he at last glanced up at her, his face became tinged with pink, and he blinked several times. “Damn…” He muttered.

Warmth once again flooded her, along with happiness and the urge to laugh. “I know, I look good.”

His green eyes crinkled as he stood, softening. “No, I’m pissed you stole more of my shit.”

Aelin brushed past him with a cackle, slipping on her coat and shoes with blessed ease, and minimal pain. “Oh, really?”

He held her gaze for several seconds longer than necessary as he opened the door for her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chuckling, she led the way towards the elevator.

Rowan, bless him, didn’t so much as comment about her not opting for the stairs, and saved her the embarrassment of saying she wasn’t ready quite yet.

Outside, it was near silent save for the occasional car or solitary person.

Immediately, an arm wrapped around her, and pulled her against a warm body. She rested her head against his shoulder, and wound her own arm around him. Calm filled her with that movement.

For just a small moment, barely more than a second, Aelin allowed herself to pretend that Rowan wasn’t simply her roommate, but rather her lover, and they were walking towards a romantic rendezvous. Warmth radiated through her, and she fought the urge to smile. Something about that just felt so right, she wished upon every star she couldn’t see that somehow, he would be able to see her even a fraction of the way she saw him.

Instantly, guilt filled her, and she found it difficult to resist shoving him away from her. How could she do that? He’d never want to be anything more than friends, he’d all but said it. He never seemed to want to be near her, and rarely did he seem to actually want to talk to her, and here she was picturing him as her boyfriend simply because he was being a caring roommate? Pathetic. All he had done was show he was a decent person, who had the ability to pity someone and here she was imagining him as her lover. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

Snow crunched loudly beneath their feet as they slowly made their way through the streets, up hills and across bridges. Past countless stores she nearly asked Rowan to go into with her. Past the river which sparkled from the sunset.

As they passed a used book store, Aelin found her feet frozen in place, utterly unable to move. Her eyes were fixed into the small, warm looking store. She turned to Rowan with a pleading grin, her eyes darting from him to the books, then back to him.

He nodded with a resigned sigh, then opened the door for her.

A warm blast of air whoosed past her, as she stepped over the threshold, inhaling a long breath of old leather, warm paper, and cedar.

She slowly made her way over to the fireplace, eyes darting to the overfilled shelves which were so meticulously and carefully organized. Running her palm across the spines, she allowed herself to pretend she was still seven years old, playing in her father’s study while he acted as if he didn’t know she was there.

Pine boughs decorated the rafters high above, accented by the warm, golden Christmas lights that trailed back and forth overhead.

Rowan had long since wandered off to the law section, and she found herself trailing over towards the books about history. She found it one row past the Law books, and gave her roommate a goofy grin as she passed him. He simply shook his head, then ducked his head down to hide his grin.

“Evalin?” A weathered voice called, shaky with age. “Evalin, is that you?”

Something cold and heavy settled deep in her gut. It was neverr good when someone recognized her, thanks to Arobynn. He’d completely destroyed her parent’s legacies.

An old man, hunched with age and the weight of burdens which were not his to carry, stepped out from behind a tall bookcase, his arms utterly laden with books.

“Emrys!” Aelin cried, launching towards him, hot tears streaking down her face. 

Emrys dropped his books, and hobbled towards her, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her close.

When they at last parted, both their faces were damp and blotchy. Rowan was standing a few feet away, watching. His expression was a mixture of utmost discomfort and interest.

“Oh, sorry.” She cleared her throat, swiped at her cheeks, and wiped her hands against her sweatpants, then held out a hand to Rowan. He took it, moving close enough to tuck her into his side. “This is Emrys McCallistair. He’s a distant relative, but basically was a glorified grandfather to Aedion, Elide and I.”

Rowan smiled warmly at him, and held out his free hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Rowan, a good friend of Aelin’s.”

The old man’s chestnut eyes trailed to where Rowan kept one arm wrapped around her waist, then back up. “Good lad,” He murmured, shaking his hand, a hidden emotion swimming in those wide eyes.

He then turned back to her with an almost-grin. “I do believe you have forgotten about one of your cousins, Aelin.”

Her nose scrunched up. “How do you mean?”

He smiled. “Luca, of course.”

Aelin paused, her jaw dropping. Instinctively, her eyes flew to Rowan’s, searching for reassurance. It was only after several seconds that she realized he wouldn’t know who they were talking about. She inhaled and exhaled several times. “Luca’s alive? You’re sure?”

Emrys chuckled. “Yes, I’m quite sure, my dear. He’s alive and well, much to the fate’s chagrin.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And to the pain of my wallet.”

“But--I saw...he…” She stammered, a smile worming across her face.

Her grandfather’s eyes darkened, turning near black in the firelight. “You saw correctly. We nearly lost him during the coup, but Darrow managed to stop the bleeding just in time.”

“Darrow?”

“Yes, my dear. Darrow.”

She was quiet for a long while, lost in her thoughts as Rowan made small talk with Emrys, discussing anything and everything while Aelin absorbed the fact that her family wasn’t as small as she’d thought that morning. That she wasn’t as alone as she’d thought.

By the time Aelin and Rowan stumbled out of Emrys’s bookshop, with warm hugs and promises of seeing each other again soon, the sun had long since set, and the gently falling snow had become an angry storm, ripping scarves and hats alike from unsuspecting people.

Rowan’s arm instantly returned to its spot on her waist, as he continued to lead her down the street, towards that same pizzeria from all those months ago.

Her suspicion that they would frequent it often had been correct. Nearly every single Friday, they would either make the long walk down to the shop itself, or would simply order in, and spend the night curled up together on the sofa watching awful horror movies into the early hours of the morning.

The chill left by the wind followed them into the shop with a sharp howell.

Cheeks a bright cherry red, he lead her over to their usual booth, and they each settled into their respective sides, though Rowan kept ahold of her hand, clutching it gently between his and playing with her fingers, tinged slightly blue by the cold.

The waitress, whom they had long since learned was named Thea, flitted over to them, her notepad clutched in one hand. “Ooh, is it date night?” She teased, those brown eyes lingering on their intertwined hands.

Aelin’s cheeks became a bright red, and she was glad for the excuse of the cold.

“Sure thing.” Rowan said with a grin.

Thea grinned, and took their usual order: One medium pepperoni pizza, with one iced tea and one lemonade.

Her heart gave a sharp leap, and began pounding in her chest.

Did he not know the effect he had on her? How a single smile or kind word from him could make or break her day? And when he pulled stunts like this, pretending they were on a date, when he had never shown a true romantic interest in her… It hurt. More than anything since losing Sam, and that scared the shit out of her.

It was then that she realized why.

And that was why she excused herself after only a few minutes, and sulked off into the bathroom to call her best friend.

Lysandra answered immediately. “What’s up?”

Aelin’s throat tightened to the point of pain. “Lys,” She rasped.

“What? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

Lysandra paused for a moment, her voice taking on that elder sister tone she only ever used with Evangeline. “What’s the matter?”

She had to take several deep breaths, and count down from ten before she was able to speak. “Lys, I… I’m in love with Rowan.”

Comment or reblog if you want to be added to my tag list!

I’m also considering doing half-chapters from Rowan’s POV. Let me know if you’re interested.

Final thing: Please send asks for prompts!!!

tag list: @sailorsassley @whiskeybusiness1776 @mad-scientist-pyromaniac @la7sorcellerie @dayanna-hatter @mis-lil-red @aelinfeyreisa @bamchickawowow @togswiftie @teresa-1121 @hizqueen4life @aelinchocolatelover @smexyminion @rowaelin-cressworth @illyrianbeauty @angelofmusic81 @rosesandglass @blackjacks-donuts @highlordrhysie @ame223 @sleeping-and-books @seducemewithyourbookcolection @high-lady-rhys @clumsybookworm18  @westofmoon (HOLY HELL YALL, THE @westofmoon IS READING ONE OF MY FICS!!!) @giorgia-the-trashpanda @burritowithfeels @happily-emma-after @awkward-avocado-s 

[gradschoolstyle]

Maintaining optimism in a demanding career--or, why happiness is not a waste of time in grad school

My mom is the happiest person I know, and I was always aware of it growing up. It made me proud, for a while. Then I became a teenager, and I started rolling my eyes. A lot. It was easy to make fun of my mom for being so cheery. Then I went off to college and I started to really appreciate her again. But then, I realized that not only was my mom super happy, she was also really smart about being happy--she made choices to make herself happy every day. She sings in the grocery store. She laughs super loud while watching tv. She gets excited about everything from running into friends to hearing her favorite songs. And you know what? All of that takes work.

I really started to understand the work of being happy and that appreciation has only grown since I got to grad school, where it's clear that I can either find a way to enjoy this life, or I can let my potentially demanding job choice swallow me whole. I definitely don't make the more difficult choice every day, but I do try! So this week, I asked some wise grad school friends why happiness can seem so hard in academia. Here's what we came up with...

One reason that it can be hard to make time for happiness is that it's easy to say that happiness is a privileged concept--that the only people who have access to 'self-care' are also people who have big incomes and lots of free time. These are good points, but I think they also oversimplify happiness. First, if dismantling privilege is your goal, how can you expect your work to contribute to empowering other people if you aren't taking care of yourself? This line of thinking also 1) tends to tie happiness to money/class (which, yes, we all need the money to be secure, but is also a line of thinking that suggests that underprivileged people can't be happy), and 2) doesn't honor that happiness is subjective and can be created in many ways.

Another reason that I think academics in particular (but probably other creative careers too!) have a hard time with happiness is that happiness is not seen as particularly 'smart.' It's chicer to be ironically miserable all the time, and I am so OVER IT.  I saw this great interview (or maybe it was a Tumblr question?) for John Green where someone asked what he wished he had known when he was younger, and he said that he wished he had known that happiness is an intelligent pursuit. It's easy to spread misery, and even easier to make the optimists around us the butt of the joke. It's harder to elevate others. It takes work. And I think it's work worth doing.

So, with that in mind, I asked some of my fierce grad school friends what they think helps to create happiness, despite being in a demanding career field. We are by no means experts. But it's good to reflect. Here was some of their advice:

Distance, distance, distance: Releasing the stress of others instead of carrying it around. Having friends in other career fields usually puts things in perspective for me because everyone's job (not just academia) can be stressful and these people don't allow me to think that I'm carrying around a "special" burden in my chosen career (lovingly, of course)!

Be useful: I read this article a few months ago and it's been in my head ever since, but the point is, sometimes the things that bring us joy are not just the self-serving things we do, but the things we do for others. I try to call my friends, send birthday cards, leave encouraging notes on people's desks...all of these things take me very little time, but in serving others, I tend to get a little burst of happiness out of these activities as well.

Don't glorify burnout: It's easy to end up in conversations that feel like one-upping contests about how busy we are. It's harder to get out of these conversations, or to talk about what is going well (especially without feeling like a self-centered human). But it's important! There's a line between supporting each other through periods of busy-ness and always dumping how busy and emotionally drained we are on each other. It's ok to move away from people who can't stop this line of conversation. I have also unfollowed social media accounts that make me feel guilty for not working 24 hours a day for this reason.  

Do things that are not productive: It's hard not to make everything feel "productive," and I definitely have a hard time doing non-work activities that don't feel like accomplishments. I run a blog. I listen to podcasts and enjoy feeling like I 'finished' something. This is such a constant problem for me that I have been given 'homework' by my counselor (ps this is also a huge part of having a good support network that bolsters happiness, for me!) to do absolutely nothing, and it's really challenging homework to complete! But totally worth it. I like walking with nowhere to be, sitting outside in our backyard, and binge-watching Dateline with no guilt.

Finally, people noted that happiness is not instant gratification: This topic has been well covered online, but several friends mentioned that 'self care' is not 'self indulgence.' Yes, buying clothes can make me happy for a minute, but some self care is hard--going to the dentist, changing the oil in the car, writing for an hour in the morning even though I  will feel less stressed (for the day) if I avoid it.

I know this blog post didn't require outfit pictures but this thrifted J. Crew tee makes me smile so I thought it was appropriate :)

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Mission Complete

To Anon who requested Angel Reyes + cheating. This was too much fun, I LIVE for angst. 

Angel Reyes x Reader 

Warnings: language, angst, cheating, sexual content

Word Count: 1.7k

*************************************************

Her pink polished nails burrowed into the crevice of Angel’s lower back, temporarily imprinting his imminent mistake onto his flesh just as her throaty moan fell on deaf ears. Angel Reyes described himself as the textbook definition of a selfish asshole which, is exactly why he found himself beneath someone else, someone completely opposite of his girl, Y/N. Her perfume suffocated his senses as he sunk deeper into her, unable to stop his own moans slipping through his lips. He was officially a piece of shit boyfriend, but his inner thoughts screamed at him to feel wanted. Even if it was by the wrong person. Angel was a man who reveled in power, craving complete submission, and tonight was his form of freedom. Every sound was different, genuine intimacy was out the window as his lustful instincts overtook him. Hiding her away in his judgment-free zone, stupidly picturing Y/N as he came, the girl he never deserved, but he made a choice, and for that came cruel consequences he wasn’t willing to admit were an option just yet. 

Angel’s abdomen tightened as his ecstatic end came to a finish, sweat glistening like glue between their overheated bodies. That was the tricky thing to secrets, they weighed heavily as we adapted to carrying them, forever, no matter the cost of their burdens.  Angel caressed her hips before moving her off his lap, his bubble of bliss nothing but a puddle of destruction in this inevitable aftermath. As he reached for his boxers, he felt her lips kissing along his neck.

“Get the fuck out already, will ya? Y/N will be here shortly.”

“Easy jackass, I can’t find my underwear. Where the fuck did you throw them, Papi?” 

Angel couldn’t even muster up enough energy to remember the poor girl’s name minus that he chose her for no reason whatsoever, an entrance into oblivion. He required a warm body, someone who didn’t know shit about his fucked-up life, and was able to silence his thoughts, if only for a little bit.

“Olvídalo (Forget it). You know where the door is.”

“You really are a piece of shit Angel Reyes. I can’t believe Y/N hasn’t dumped your ass by now.” A devilish grin mirrored upon her caked features as he noticed her smeared lipstick.

Bile rose in his throat as his words ascended through the humid air, watching it all slip from his grasp, and he didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

“Me neither. Thanks for the ride sweetheart.”

Internally, Angel couldn’t mute his mind any further and sighed as Y/N face stormed behind his closed lids. He knew Y/N would be worried about him by now, she was structure, beauty, and, imperfectly resilient. Always better to reign in hell, anyways.

Shit, he sighed, finally releasing his breath he didn’t realize was entangled in his lungs. Y/N would be here in 15 minutes as the guilt only began its descended coil within his gut. Angel exulted in self- hatred, but not all monsters were that way in the beginning.

Y/N’s POV

Just as his trailer came into sight, electricity surged as her excitement started to build, this was her favorite part of any day, being in his presence. She took in his unkempt facade; Angel’s forehead was beaded in sweat as his cheeks were flushed red almost like he had just finished a marathon. Odd, but still she found this man to be downright irresistible. Y/N stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms closely around his neck, unable to hide the smile that made its way to her lips.

“I missed you today.” Before he could comprehend, she was already pressed against him as the edge of her lips found his, and he couldn’t help but give in to the courageous woman standing in front of him.  

“Lo siento baby, you know better than anyone how knee deep in shit we are?” He prayed to whoever was foolish enough to listen to his prayers that forgiveness was on the table, but he should have known by now that everything he ever cherished, he tainted; given enough time.

­ “Que paso mi amor?” Her brow uneasily raised, she knew him like the back of her hand, and he was mere seconds away from destroying her.  Finally meeting her eyes, Angel guided her to sit on his bed, all while taking her hand into his, memorizing every detail he took for granted. Unexpectedly, her steps stopped as she eyes found their intertwined fingers, nervousness finally making its appearance.

“Sometimes it feels better to just not talk at all. Please just – listen to me. I love you so goddamn much.”

“Something’s tearing you up on the inside. Man the fuck up and spit it out.” Worry laced her tone as she nervously shifted from one foot to the other, unable to calm the quaking in her heart. If his eyes told her anything, war was about to crumble upon them.

“You wanna be in a relationship and I can’t seem to stay in one. You should know by now that I care about your feelings more than mine which is why what I’m about to admit is terrifying.”

Her mind sputtered to a halt as she processed what Angel was exactly trying to convey to her. Her words were locked behind her lips uncertain of the situation in front of her, as her body had become her own personal prison. She stuttered as she spoke, unease shaking her to her core before forming the one sentence she never wanted to muster.

“Did you sleep with someone?” He absolutely hated when she cried, but he loathed himself fully when her chin quivered. The true kicker was when he reached for her and she flinched from his touch, a touch she so deeply craved, one she didn’t realize came with an expiration date detailed in the fine print. This was the one moment Angel wished the cement floor could swallow him whole. He was indeed a glutton for punishment, and the reaper was fast approaching.

She made her way towards his disheveled bed, nausea churning in her chest as she thought about another girl being in his arms. Her back was faced away from him as she couldn’t help but notice the unwarranted red undergarment lazily tossed by her sweatshirt. A sweatshirt she had left behind since they started spending more nights together. Y/N reached for the offensive item before fiercely stalking his way, rage taking ahold of her.

“It’s funny how sometimes the people you take a bullet for, are the ones behind the trigger, huh?” Angel was caught off guard when he felt her arms press into his shirt before violently throwing the underwear in his face. Y/N considered crying, but nothing came out. All that remained was a sort of twisted sadness, a sick sad, one where she couldn’t feel any physically worse.

“Y/N, let me expl-“

“No… You don’t get to speak, you don’t get to defend your fuck up, and you definitely don’t get to control this conversation. Got it?”

All he could do was simply nod in agreement and tread lightly as her fury began to simmer below her skin.

“Mission complete Angel Reyes. I feel so fucking empty. Do you know what it like to be completely empty? I—I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“I know I messed up but-“

“But nothing. You made a decision and now you’re cowering instead of bearing the consequences. Did you think of me when you were fucking her? Was I even a passing thought as you shoved your dick inside her?”

Angel inhaled in an attempt to gather his recklessly scattered thoughts. He couldn’t bullshit a bullshitter and based on the look etched into her newly found frown, Angel was officially shut out by the one person he considered his safe haven. You deserve this you piece of shit, you brought this upon yourself when all you had to do was push her away.

“I wasn’t thinking. Sometimes people do terrible things when they’re scared. They don’t mean to, but they can’t help it. I lashed out for no reason at all but to test to waters and now I’m anchored to the ocean floor.”

“Just quit already, let me guess- this wasn’t the first time. Exactly how many times did you laugh behind my back only to come home and double dip, hm?”

This was a question Angel wasn’t prepared for in the slightest which is why he chose to remain silent. Y/N didn’t need any additional ammunition to fire his direction. The damage was done, and he was naively there to watch the wildfire spread.

“Y/N, if you walk away, I understand, but know that you were the only one who always had my heart. Please never doubt that.”

She gathered her remaining articles of clothing that had created their blended home and shuffled towards the impending exit of his home and their sunken relationship. Y/N’s fingers wrapped around the cold knob, the crickets chirped as she fought to regain her composure.

“I want to you remember this day and recognize that you broke us, even when we don’t know each other anymore because I will never be yours again Angel.” Her trembling hands finally allowed her one last push against the door-frame as she met the chilled air, goosebumps rippling along her skin. Y/N’s emotions finally seeped through, but she refused to let him see her collapse.

“I wanted to find a way to be happy with you by my side, but if I can’t have you, I’ll find a way to be happy without you. Now get out of my fucking face, asshole.” The finality in her words commanded his attention as Angel was left horrendously alone all by his own hand.

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http://utterlyhopeful.tumblr.com/post/180940839697/masterlist-mayans-mc-angel-reyes-x-reader-happy

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky prt 47 full draft... gonna leave this on this note and swap to Keith for a continuation

Lance's nerves started to grow as he walked with Shiro and Keith through the palace. Keith was still miffed about not being able to be in the same room as he and Kre'el, while Lance was trying not freak out over the fact that Kre'el could easily divulge all his secrets. It scared him more than each Galra they passed. More than when he'd shamefully screamed at Keith that he'd been raped. More than admitting that he had feelings for Keith and being swept away into a relationship with a man he still felt he wasn't worthy of. Every little thing had his heart racing in fear. His hands clenched as he grit his teeth, not trusting himself to breath through his mouth in case those pancakes ended up on his shoes. Both men at his sides knew he wasn't ok. Shiro said he smelt like dead mouse again, and Keith had growled at him over it, insisting that Lance smelt like rotten fruit. Neither scents appealing, or what he wanted associated with him. To him, he smelt like Keith. He could smell him all over his clothes and skin. He could almost feel his soft lips against his own... But there'd be no Keith in the same room as him. No retreating once he saw Kre'el. The Cuban's throat felt tight, as if the water he'd forced himself to sip while Keith ate, was filled with poisonous thorns that formed with each step closer to Kre'el he came. What did he say to her? "I'm sorry my friends shot you after you nearly killed Keith and I?". "Come here often?", or his personal favourite "Why didn't you ask me for help sooner?". Lance knew losing his temper wouldn't get him anywhere... but she was behind it all... If she was as old as the ship, she'd had thousands of years to change her ways. To find a peaceful way to get what she wanted or needed... Did the fact that she failed to find peace, mean that there'd never be a day when everyone found common ground? The thought was thoroughly depressing. His depression showing in his leaden steps. His whole body tingled with the feeling that this was a horribly horrible idea, and that he'd be absolutely rubbish at "interrogating" her. The room where Kre'el was being held was a converted laboratory. A long double sided window ran along the far length of the room, the space where Keith and Shiro would watch on. Stopping at the guarded door, Lance stumbled back as Veronica came out the room. Holopad in hand, and fierce scowl on her face. Veronica... he absolutely couldn't let her know... stumbling back, he smacked into Shiro's chest "Lance?" Looking up to Shiro, Lance's eyes were silently pleading with the man who wasn't surprised that his sister was there "You never said Veronica would be here..." "That's nice, little brother. We're not letting you be harmed by her" Tugging him away from Shiro, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance as Lance continued to stare at his sister in shock "Shiro, I don't think this is a good idea. It could get... pretty graphic" "Veronica is..." No. Uh uh. If this was happening, it was under his terms. If he had to go in there, have his secrets spilt to the world and be put so far out of his comfort zone that he didn't know where the hell his comfort zone was anymore, he had a right to do this in his own way "No. No. I'll let her die. I'll let her die without asking her a thing. I know you can stick her back in a pod, but if Veronica doesn't leave, then I'm not going in there" Lance's words took him by surprise, yet they summed up how he felt deep down. Veronica pushed her glasses up with her pointer finger "Lance, I'm a professional. Whatever you have to say..." "You're my sister V. You've been my sister since the first time you held me. Remember how it all was before the Galra? You know how bad things got... I don't want you listening to what happened. I don't want you thinking about what could have been prevented. I don't want you listening. Shiro, please. If you and Keith are listening, don't let Veronica listen" Shiro was on the edge of his trust circle. He was trying to let him further, but it was hard to be that way with his "childhood hero-cum-space dad". Veronica was out of the circle after their fight. He wasn't useless and he wasn't a burden. His mami had said so "I'm your sister. I want to be there for you" "You can be there by letting me tell you things in my own time" "In your own time? You have yet to make a statement over what happened out there. Keith made a statement to the Blades, but that was a phoeb and a half after the incident" "It's been two phoebs Veronica! Two! I'm not ready yet!" "You need to do your job" "I have been doing my job! I am doing my job. I know it ended up with a heap of trouble on your end, but you have no idea what it was like, and frankly I pray you never do. Shiro is the Commanding Officer of the Atlas, otherwise I wouldn't have him here either. No offence Shiro. I'm just sure that if you were in my place, you wouldn't want me there" Shiro got it. He dumped the unsure manner, as he rose to the full height of "Commander mode" "Veronica, the plan was for you to stand here and guard the door externally. Kre'el had stipulated that she will only talk to Lance privately. That's why Keith can't be in the room with them. Now. Lance, remember that we can hear you and if anything at all happens, we will intervene. I trust you to handle this. I know you can handle this. You've grown past the age where you need your hand held... That doesn't mean I won't... if you need... or Keith will. I just mean that... you've got this" Giving Shiro a tight smile, he appreciated his words. Keith nuzzled into his neck, pressing a kiss against the curve to his shoulder "Say the word, and we'll get you out" "We don't have a safe word" Lance missed the way Shiro rolled his eyes at them. He hadn't even meant it sexually so he wasn't thinking of it in that way "What about chocolate?" Chocolate could work "What if I forget?" "I'll be watching babe. I know how to read those moods of yours" Lance might have been offended if he wasn't doing everything he could to be brave right now. He'd waited so long for answers, yet now he was so close to them, he didn't know if truly wanted them. Once he knew, he couldn't unknow. Whatever Kre'el had to say, he would carry for the rest of his life "That makes one of us. Now, let's do this. Please. I want this to be over" "Ok, babe. I quiznakking wish I was going in there with you" "I know..." Lance didn't reply with "me too", as he knew Keith wouldn't be able to keep his temper. They needed Kre'el alive long enough to answer everything she could "I'll see you soon" Sitting propped up on the hospital bed, Kre'el's pale maroon form seemed to be paler. The marks on her cheeks glowed so softly they looked as if they'd flicker out of existence completely within doboshes. Swallowing hard, Lance forced his shaking legs over to the visitors chair where sat down on the very edge. He could smell the death rolling off Kre'el. An unsettling scent, kind of like burnt coffee mixed with the sweet scent of rotting meat. Watching as Kre'el's cracked lips parted, Lance still jumped when she spoke "Lance... thank you for coming to see me" "You didn't leave me much choice" Coughing, her breath rattled as she then rasped "I'm sorry. You're the only one who would understand" "I understand that you sold me to your stupid friends. Now two of my friends have to watch me talk to you. Who are you? I thought we friends. I thought of you as a genuine friend, but now I don't even know if Kre'el is your true name. And why... did you have a whole prison ship?" He'd been so close to asking "why me?", but chickened out "It wasn't supposed to happen how it did... none of it was supposed to happen" "Oh, so I'm meant to forgive you, just like that!?" "No. No... I... you had what I needed, but it's too late now" "You couldn't have just asked me for my help? Instead you dangle this job in front of me? Let them fucking torture me. Let them try to kill me. Because I had something you needed?!" Lance knew he was quick to jump to emotional extremes. He wore his heart on his sleeve and would do anything just to make everyone else happy. This was a rubbish idea. Absolutely quiznakkingly rubbish. "You never would have understood" "How can I when you won't explain anything?! You know exactly what they did to me. Over and over! You came to the hospital. You helped me get my job and my feet under me. Was it out of pity?! Or to keep you experiment close? Did he send you the footage? You told him to observe me... did you watch it?!" Rising from the visitors chair, Lance started to pace "Do you know what it's like?! I came back from the dead wrong! My girlfriend died and left me behind. I wanted to stay on Earth, because for some stupid reason I thought planting junipers would bring her back. I tore my whole family apart. But none of that compares to what Klearo did! Why didn't you stop him?!" "Lance... sit down" "Why should I?" Pushing herself up, Lance stopped pacing to stare as Kre'el tugged at the bandage around her left arm, just above her elbow. What did that have to with any of it? All he wanted was answers... Oh quiznak. Shiro was watching... he'd forgotten. Shit. Shit... He was letting him down by not being professional. Fuck. Leandro. Leandro. Not Lance. Not weak and worthless Lance. Pulling the fabric of the bandage loose, Kre'el freed her arm with one hard tug. Lance clamping a hand over his mouth as the skin began to stretch, her arm slowly tearing from her body in horrifically slow motion with a kind of stretching and popping noise as it did. Arms weren't supposed to do that! Throwing up in his mouth, he backed away from the Altean "I cannot maintain this body much longer, but before I die. I want to tell you my story... I want you to understand" Nope. He didn't want to understand. He wanted out... "Leandro, please. What I did wasn't simply for myself. I did what I needed for my people. The people that Alfor and Voltron abandoned" "Alfor didn't abandon you. He died!" "He turned his back on Altea!" "He had a war to fight!" "A war his friend caused! Altea wasn't some peaceful and happy planet! You know life doesn't work like that" "I know they weren't cutting people up like you were" "Please sit. It makes it so hard to have a conversation with you standing over there" "I think I'm just fine here. You said you wanted to explain, so explain" Covering the stump of where her arm was, there was no blood, or oozing or... anything should come with losing a whole freakin' arm. He couldn't bring himself to look back at the sight, or to look Kre'el in the face. He was haunted by her oddly cute pig faced nose and curly blonde hair "You know by now that the ship was an Altean prisoner ship. Alfor thought of himself a kind and generous king. He loved an extravagant lifestyle with his friends, bragging over how peaceful his world was. Even before Zarkon, bad Galra existed. Galra that took what they wanted without mercy. That wasn't a lie. The Galra in my blood wasn't out there by choice. I hated my blood because of it. Our family was shunned. It got slightly better when Zarkon and Honerva wed, then soon whispers spread of her madness. Blinded by his own ego, Alfor had his lions. Lions he handed to his friends, who weren't even Altean! Who he valued more than his own people. Instead of entrusting the future to the soldiers who'd lay down their lives in a heartbeat. So we protested. We screamed over Zarkon's threat and we're arrested for treason. We were arrested for threatening his much loved peace. Sentenced to spend our days working the mines for ore needed for him. For phoebs you could be held on Altea before you would be moved" Kre'el paused, letting her breathing settle before continuing "There were 547 of us on that ship. 547 people he simply did not wish to deal with. We weren't even all Altean... but they stuffed us into pods and sent us away. None of us were conscious when it happened. When the wormhole we had entered was corrupted by the shockwaves of Altea being destroyed. By now your princess had escaped with her bumbling servant. For us we'd only just fallen asleep before we were waking again. Those not in the pods hadn't survived. Realising we were alone, many fled the ship and onto the planet we landed on. You have to understand, this ship was carrying everything through to the vilest people you could think of. All of us stuck together in the space with no foreseeable way off. Those who didn't kill themselves killed each other so they wouldn't starve. There wasn't enough food for us all. There was no rescue ship coming. Then the sickness began. Those who huddled close to ship at night falling ill first. We weren't medical experts or technicians. No. They were all dead. So long gone that their bones had crumbled when we crash landed. A few of us came together. When we crashed and the pods opened, there were those who locked themselves away in the bridge. Those who prayed and called it the "decision of the stars", called us wicked and tainted, who told us we all deserved to die. They died. They starved to death in the bridge because they believed that was the only choice. Phoebs had passed by now... So we broke into the bridge. We broke in and found the ship still had power, but do you know why it still had power? When we were put in the pods, our quintessence mixed with the ships as if to hold our consciousness until we woke. The ship had power because of our quintessence" Lance was starting to get a headache from trying to keep up. Dizzy and confused, he trembled as he walked over and dropped back down on the visitors chair. "So the ship was powered by your quintessence?" That was the only thing important from everything she'd said so far. Kre'el nodded, her right hand "Yes. Not all of it was transferred back in the crash. The corrupt wormhole changed the nature. The radiation fall out changed our bodies. We hungered for quintessence with no idea why. It took movements to unlock the ship. To finally open the logs. We didn't believe it at first. What was quintants for us, had been 9 thousand years. We shouldn't have been alive. We agreed to keep it secret, then one spoke. He screamed it out to the whole populace, then killed himself in front of them all. Things fell into chaos, reverting back to as they'd been after the initial crash. But activating the ship had turned the distress beacon on. Finally someone knew we were out there..." 9 thousand years had to be a shock to the system. Allura had been heartbroken and shaken to her core to find she and Coran had slept for ten thousand. "The Galra came for us. Their ships small, yet plenty. So many people were cut down by them... They screamed in confusion, holding onto the notion they'd be rescued. The Galra had thought we might be a lion. That's all they came for. Many thought fighting back was useless. Most of us had no military skill. Most of us were sick and dying. When they found they no lion, they left us to die" Lance couldn't picture it without thinking of when they'd seen Hunk's parents back on Earth, in the hands of the Galra where they had no idea if they'd ever be rescued. His stupidly selfless nature found him sympathetic towards the abandoned criminals. "We had no food. No water. Only the desperate will to survive... When the secret of the ship being powered by quintessence spread further, there were many who gave their lives so the ship might fly again... by the end of the journey, only 180 of us were left. We found a planet with food and water. We settled. Changed our faces and took personal pods to other planets. Only to find that the Galra ruled all. Alfor had failed in his duty. The criminals he'd cast away and forgot from Altea, were now the last of the Altean's. The Galra were looking for the lions, but so were we. Especially the Red Lion. Alfor's hope and dream for Altea. We spent all the time we could searching, until he began to run low on power again. That's when we realised that there was an a whole universe of Galra in front of us. No one wanted them alive. They had no right to be alive. Our planet was gone from the maps. All hails went unanswered. The ship's cameras catching Altea's final moments. Alfor had destroyed it all by not listening to his people. His idea for a utopia impossible when not all people are born equal" Lance had shifted from sympathy to anger "Are you seriously telling me, this was all because of a grudge against a man who'd been dead for 9 thousand years?! You said you found a planet, so why couldn't you be happy?" "Could you be happy? If you woke up in the future and everything was gone? You don't get it. You're clearly loved and wanted! You didn't have to fight each day to live. You didn't have to watch your whole species grow ill and die. You didn't have to live as something less than human! Even when we left the planet, we still needed to return the ship frequently or we'd grow ill. It took us hundreds of deca-phoebs to establish ourselves. We shifted and blended in. Killed and took what we could. You've done the same. You killed and killed. You painted who ships red with the blood you spilt. You have no right to take the high ground" Lance wanted to scream. He also wanted to slap Kre'el senseless "I've never killed someone who didn't deserve it!" "How do you? How do you know that they deserved it? How do you know that was the right call to make?" "They fucking tortured me, Kre'el. And you've got some sobbing backstory that we've heard a dozen times before. Boo hoo. Your precious king didn't do as you wanted. You could have found another way. There's always another way. You didn't need to start killing people to keep your ship running!" "There was no other way. If you interrupt, I won't continue. I won't explain why it was you that we needed" "You said you needed my quintessence..." Kre'el burrowed back against her pillows. Lance releasing he'd interrupted again and was forced to play her game "I'm sorry. Please continue" "As I said, we had no one. Nothing. Altea was gone, and building our own colony was slow. We took jobs for the those supporting the Galra, they didn't know what we were. We turned our backs on everyone to survive, took citizens from every planet we could. When the Galra built outposts, we helped. We filled their ranks and spread only as far as our region of space. We watched them crush everyone with well placed whispers. They were already experimenting on bodies by then and we needed the data. Then we started to grow sicker. The corrupt radiation from the ship... it'd become part of us. We couldn't leave. We couldn't stay. Children stopped being born... The children we had were sickly, most dying in their early years. We needed more people to power the ship. We needed time to find to a way to survive. We allowed the Galra to capture the ship. They couldn't move it off planet, so they sent scientists to investigate. Deca-phobes had passed between visits. They were strong. Galra genetics are impervious to most common diseases. Even half breeds live a long and mostly healthy life. We hated the Galra but we needed them. Our bodies were failing us. What else could we do? We shifted shape, we lied and said we followed the empire. We killed the teams that were sent to power the ship and studied their remains. The pods were all corrupt, taking the quintessence and powering the tainted Balmera at the core. You have no idea what it was like. My own daughter... she wasted away before my eyes..." Lance felt a tear roll down his cheek. Kre'el was right. He didn't know what it was like. He'd lost the thing inside of him before he knew it was there... but to have a daughter and to lose her... "Why me? Voltron was back. You could have turned to us..." Kre'el let out a laugh "Alfor's precious Voltron. If Honerva hadn't been tampering with things she shouldn't have been, none of this would have happened. Voltron was built with no idea how it even worked. You showed up from nowhere. Then you disappeared again. You never once came close to our corner of the galaxy. We'd already been awake for a thousand years. We were dying and the only thing we had left was our hatred for Altea. You know a government can't operate on peace alone, but that gets swept under the rug. No one wants to talk about those not living happy peaceful lives, and when or if the media hears about it, they always want to know "why did no one step in?". It's all a farce. So when Voltron returned, we wanted the Red Lion. We wanted all the lions. The lions that should have stayed rightfully in the hands of Alteans" Lance shook his heads. He didn't get it. Kre'el had said Altea wasn't the peaceful paradise Coran looked through rose coloured glasses at "It was their differences that made Voltron what it was..." "Yet it took a group of humans to save the universe. We all hated you. We hated you and you returned Earth. Then we heard the most interesting of news. That a human born male was walking around with Altean marks. Can you imaging what that was like for us? A non-Altean species with the marks? We wanted you, but didn't know how to approach you" "So you used Klearo?" Kre'el nodded "He wanted power. He a small man who thought himself large, so we helped him into the spotlight. We made small attempts at his life, so he'd have a need for a bodyguard" "Why didn't you contact me... Why didn't you contact me when I landed on Erathus?" "Because we didn't know how your body worked. He was supposed to monitor you and report. But you... Your natural magnetism outshone his. People wanted to hear from the Paladin who wanted peace for the people. The Paladin who'd tragically lost the love of his life" "I would have fucking helped you!" Screaming at Kre'el Lance shot off the chair and over to the closest to the wall "You didn't need to put me through that! You know what they did! Three fucking movements. Kept stabled naked like I wasn't even worth clothes! Do you understand what was it was like? I was hallucinating my ex-girlfriend watching the whole fucking time! These marks have ruined my whole fucking life! She ruined my life trying to help me! And I still don't know if I hate her or if I'm still hurt she chose the universe over me! You say you're a parent, you should have some idea what you wanted for you daughter! Was rape part of that? To be raped repeatedly and violently? To have Galra go crazy for your scent like you're a drug? Do you know what it fucking hurt? How much it still hurts? I can't have a normal love life with my boyfriend! Keith... God. He has the patience of a fucking Saint. I still feel them on my skin and hear them in my ear. I still fucking jump every time I see Galra and freak over the fact they can smell me. They raped me over and over until I couldn't speak. Sometimes nonstop all fucking quintant! So tell me, did you want that for you daughter!? Did you want that for anyone!?" Kre'el let out a sob. Lance whipping around so he was no longer screaming at the wall "No. No. You don't get to cry!" "It wasn't supposed to go that far. I didn't care if he tortured you. But I had no idea he'd do that to you. When we found you... When I looked into your eyes and saw your pain... I knew I messed up" "Oh, you knew you messed up, so that makes it ok!?!" "No! No it doesn't. I wish... I could take that from you... but I... I know what happened. I saw the results when I went to the hospital. The positive readings... and I grew selfish again" Positive... Lance stumbled. All support gone from his knees. She'd known for that long... She'd known and hadn't helped him "I thought..." "Don't say it..." "If..." "Don't you fucking say it! If you ever fucking cared, even once you won't fucking say it" "I put you in the club so you'd be safe... but talking with you... you had so much hate in your heart... and so much love. I wanted to hate you. I wanted to keep hating you... but the more time past... the less I could... I starved to waver on my mission. But I couldn't turn back, so when Daehra and Lucteal took you, I prayed for your sake you'd stay away. But you didn't. You wanted to fight even harder for those who'd been hurt... before I realised it, no one trusted me anymore. Lasandi was sent to be by your side and I was recalled back to the ship... I didn't want for you to be raped. That is a thing I wouldn't wish on anyone else... We just wanted your quintessence. Your reading were so high. We wanted to know how to raise our own... and how a human could carry so much without exhibiting more signs. When you zapped Keith, most of us were so excited... but I knew what it meant. You were showing signs of controlling your Altean magics. Someone who should never had had that power. We argued and I won. I told them you wouldn't let all you'd seen of our outpost experiments go. You were to brave and noble to do that..." Sinking down the wall, Lance wrapped his arms around himself. None of this needed to happen. None of it. He didn't feel brave or nobel. He felt so quiznakking stupid that he wanted to throw himself off the nearest cliff. Behind him, Kre'el wheezed and cough. Some monitor beeping "We were last... the others have gone on... to the new home. I'm sorry Lance... I did love you... you were a friend... I didn't lie about that. I didn't want your friendship... but I still... valued you... I wish we could go back to those days and work together... I'm grateful... I met you..."

[fanficparker]

Ocean Eyes | Haz mini series | Part 1

Pairing: (Strangers to Friends to Lovers!) (Imaginary Love Triangle!) (Accidental Adultery!) Harrison Osterfield x Reader

A/n: It was my first ever fanfic, I earlier posted it on instagram and so thought of posting it here too. It’s trash. Check my masterlist for other fics, one-shots & more parts.

Word count: 2.1K

Warning: This fic is trash. Swearing, Flirting

Description: Y/n Y/l/n, a doctor by profession, loner by destiny, having just a little celebrity crush on a British actor Tom Holland. Her whole life changes when she accidentally bumped into a blue-eyed man on a rainy dark night, who was supposed to be Tom’s best friend Harrison Osterfield. What will happen when Harrison starts to fall for her? This celebrity crush on Tom will of course create some drama ;)

Part 1…

It was just 7 pm, but the temperature was falling rapidly. The loud pitter-patter sound of raindrops falling on the ground accompanied by the sound of splashing water under your running foot-steps triumph over mild whooshing sound of cold wind touching your skin. The streets were nearly vacant and the orange light from the street lamps reflecting over the thin layer of water, made the road appear yellowish. The night was dark, full of clouds hiding the moon and all the stars. You were trying your best not to slip on the watery road. Your spectacles were totally drenched in water making your vision extremely blurry as you ran on the road towards your destination until you bumped into someone making both of you fall on the opposite side.

The two thin files of paper that you were holding earlier dropped on the ground with your glasses. Both the files and glasses were hell important for you, so you hurriedly began searching for them.

“Sorry sir, I am very sorry. I ruined your clothes, I wish I could help you, but I have an urgent call.” You gasped not facing the man you bumped into, but he helped you collect the fallen stuff. You both stood up as he handled you the stuff. His willingness to help proved that he was absolutely generous.

“Not to worry. By the way, I am Ha…” You weren’t in the situation to lose any more time, so you simply rushed past him, ignoring his words.

The only thing you remember about him was his ocean blue eyes.

•••

You zoomed into the charity hospital and straight away carried yourself to the operating room. It was an emergency case, you had to operate the patient as soon as possible. Because of your broken car, you were already running out of time. After an hour you finally came out wearing your white coat and removing your plastic gloves.

An old man instantly hushed towards you. His voice was shaky and his hands were fidgeting.

“How’s she? Did we lost….” You cut him and with a smile plastered on your face, consoled:“The mother is all right and congratulations it’s a boy”. The dangerous medical case was successfully handled by you Dr Y/n Y/l/n one of the top gynaecologists in the west.

The man joined his hands before you. Tears were glistening in his eyes. “You are a God, you saved my daughter, and you did it for charity. I don’t even know how to thank you.” You gently hugged him. “It’s my job” there was satisfaction and pride in your voice. You guided him to the ICU and made your steps towards the locker room to get changed into a fresh pair of clothes as the previous one were completely soaked.

Before you could enter inside the locker room you noticed a young man, standing by the wall with his eyes on you.

“Is there anything I could do for you?” you questioned reaching near him. He just looked at you and smiled finally opening his mouth after a whole ten seconds.

“I didn’t know this was the reason of your emergency” he murmured.

He had blue eyes.

“Oh My God! So you were the one I bumped into… I am really sorry” you exclaimed in the beginning with voice shrill at the end. With slightly tugged chin and raised eyebrows he gasped “I’m only gonna forgive you if you provide me with the honour to take you for a coffee or tea?”

You giggled at his cute offer and dramatic style of an offering. There was something in him that made you stop refusing his offer.

“Just gimme 10 minutes, I need to change” you smiled turning to the locker room

“Yeah, I will wait.”

You changed your clothes wearing a simple blue floral dress with tights and sweater. You saw him waiting at the reception.

“We shall now” you spoke making him nod. The rain had already paused, as you walk inside the down street cafe, ordering a tea. You were sipping your tea when he started a conversation.

“It’s pretty cold here right,” he said keeping his cup down.

“Yeah,” you said repeating his actions.

“By the way, can I know your good name?”

“Oh yeah, of course. I am Dr Y/n Y/l/n and you?”

“Dr Y/n, I’m Harrison. Harrison Osterfield ”

His style of introducing himself made you chuckle.

“You don’t need to call me doctor. You aren’t my patient”

“Maybe I’m”

“I have no idea what that means” you felt your cheeks burn realizing he was flirting with you. Something in him looked familiar until it finally struck you.

“W-wait are Harrison Osterfield friends with the actor Tom Holland, OMG. I have seen you on Instagram a lot.” you squealed in a little excitement.

“I’m glad you recognized me. Most people only recognize Tom” he said in a soft tone. You gave him a smile listening to his words as you continued sipping your tea. It was finally the time to depart. While you were walking outside the cafe he again tried to start up a conversation.

“Hey, where do you live? If you want I could drop you”

“Hmm. actually, I don’t live here, my hotel is about 50 km from here, and my car is broken, so I am thinking of booking room in another nearby hotel to spend the night,” you answered genuinely.

“Oh god, that sucks… If you don’t mind you could stay at my place till your car repairs, it’s really near from here”

“Aahhh” you were confused to get into someone’s home, you just met.

“You can you can send your location to any of your relative or friend, and tell them them you are with me, this way you won’t be afraid” he said, making you look up.

“I don’t mean that I’m doubtful about you, you know” you tried, feeling embarrassed.

“No, I mean everyone should always be on a safe side, especially girls, you should really do that, the world isn’t that safe.” he convinced you. You wondered what an amazing person he was.

“I don’t wanna be a burden” you said.

“It’s totally fine, you won’t a burden, and maybe I can make you meet Tom tomorrow.” he smiled wide making his eyes crinkle.

“It’s not about Tom… I mean you are really very interesting…Okay I will” You agreed, remembering his previous words of being unrecognised.

“So.. just send your location and tell them, you’re with me, you would feel safer” he insisted and you sent the information to one of your close colleagues. This move by him, totally points about his good character, he is the type of guy who can make any stranger feel safe. You nodded, you’re were ready to go with him. He looked up through his lashes smiling, guiding you to his car. Even you both just met, still, you felt safe with him.

After just the first five minutes of being in his car, you jolted up, yelling “Oh my god god god”, making him pull the car breaks.

“What happened?”

“I forgot bringing my nightwear, my stuff, nothing…shoot” Your exaggerated reaction made him laugh.

“I got a lot of spare clothes, maybe a little big for you, but you can surely use them” he reassured igniting the engine again. You were worried about going with a stranger is a little risky, but his generous approach made you believe him. Moreover, you had an SOS function on your phone. Safety first.

But he appeared so protective.

He drove to his place which was actually not very far. He gave you a seat on the living room sofa, politely offering you dinner.

“I got pasta for dinner, would you like eating?”

“Oh yeah, why not” you agreed as you were dangerously hungry. He was placing the pasta in the microwave when you followed him into the kitchen.

“Let me help” you insisted, grabbing two serving plates. Behaving like a gentleman he didn’t allow you to work as per the ‘norms of serving a guest’. After you both finished up the food you both asked about each other’s lives.

He’s an aspiring actor, but a successful English model. He lives in London, the place you are going to shift really soon. He seemed really nice and funny. Not forgetting to mention a little flirty, but you didn’t mind.

“So y/n what’s up in your life, your parents?”

“It’s fine. And they both passed away in an accident 2 years before”

“I am extremely sorry”

“No need of sorries ”

He pressed his lips and tried to change the topic.

“Okay, I found you like movies, so what if you wanna see a movie with me tonight?!”

“OMG why not”

He surfed the Netflix and starts to choose, you quickly slide towards him and point to the movie “Me before you”, as you haven’t seen it yet.

“Oh yeah it’s a good movie, and one of my favourite novels! ” you squealed getting next to him. You noticed you came sliding too close to him so pulled back a little murmuring “sorry”.

“It’s fine, I guess we are friends now?”

“Of course”

He played the movie…

Netflix (and chill)…Hey, you just watched the movie, so don’t think otherwise…

As the movie finishes, he shuts off the TV, getting back to the conversation.

“So, you can tell me about your past life, boyfriend et cetra stuff? It’s good to know about friends.” he soothed.

“Umm… actually, to be honest, my past life was no less than a nightmare. My parents always said I was worthless and were kind of torturing me many times, hmm. I still miss them yet. And talking of boyfriend, we were incompatible. So, mutually dumped each other. Rest everything is cool, especially the weather!” you replied.

No matter how bad your past was, you were a present-living-loving person, so you didn’t mind the old memories.

What’s gone is gone.

This approach of yours, plus the innocent humour, in addition to the charitable help you did earlier was already making this blue-eyed young man attracted to you. You continued as he didn’t say anything. “I have a good life now, I know my worth, people respect me and all that stuff. But just I don’t have any family or friends. I am shifting to London probably this week, the charity week here in the USA is over, there’s a lot of work in London there, my house is still under construction and I have to find a rented flat or house to live till my home is finished. So much mess…….uggghhh.” A frustrated whimper left your lips as you held your forehead with your hands. Harrison kept his hand on your shoulder reassuring you.

“Hey you don’t need to worry, I and Tom too are going back to London so you can very well stay with us till everything is sorted out, it would be my pleasure to have you at my place.”

“What? No no… You already have done so much…I can’t….”

“Oh come on I just got you tea and pasta, it’s totally fine”

“I never thought people were so nice”

“I will take it as 'yes’” he said smiling.

“You must be uncomfortable in these clothes, you can take a shower and change” he adviced.

It was true that the tights and jacket were uncomfortable to sleep in, so you nodded and he guided you to the bathroom attached to the room, handling a sweatshirt and a trouser. After relaxing and getting changed you walked back to the living room, he too had changed into comfortable wear. He shifted his gaze towards you with an amusing grin.

“What? I know I’m shorter than you so your clothes look weird on me but—-” He cuts you words in the middle.

“You look cute!” making you flushed, so apparently, you tried to change the topic.

“By the way, I am not feeling like sleeping I guess,” you said with an enigmatic tone trying to hide the fact that you just blushed. “Umm… same! Would you like playing some cards game with me”

“But we are just 2 people”

“Right, let me call Tom, he will surely join us.”

Externally you just nodded, but from the inside, you were screaming…Tom Holland was coming, your favourite celebrity, the person you have a celebrity crush on from at least 5 years……

In about 15 mins the doorbell rung, making you nervous. Harrison received the door. Tom Holland was standing right in front of you.

(TBC) (SORRY IF 😂 YOU WASTED YOUR TIME READING THIS TRASH).

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Sex Contract [M] - Chapter 1

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 - FINAL

Chapter 1 - Changmin’s POV.

“Thanks everyone for your attention today, English class is over.”

He yawned lightly and stretched his long limbs, scraping the chair back and then got to his feet. Grabbing his notebook and pens, Changmin placed them in his bag he unhooked from the hanger on the side of the desk and then watched as his fellow friends left the room. Only one person remained and he approached her from behind, a sly smile playing upon his lips. She turned just as he reached her desk and rolled her eyes at him.

“Go to practice Changmin,” she ordered in her accented Korean and he grinned.

“Aren’t you the least bit interested in what I have to say?”

She shook her head, a mass of caramel curls danced along with her action. Changmin chuckled, placing his hands on the desk and leaning over. She glanced at him and sighed heavily, admitting defeat. He had learnt his dark eyes had the ability to get even his closest friends to give him the time of the day. Standing up straight, she folded her arms across her chest. “Hurry up with it then, I don’t want to get scolded by your manager again for holding up your schedule. Which by the way, seems to be your loitering problem rather than my insufficient time keeping, Shim Changmin.”

“Kaia, my time is precious don’t you remember? And I choose to spend it around you.”

“And why I don’t even know. Must be my exotic looks eh?” she retorted with a scoff, turning her back to him once again and picking up the whiteboard duster.

Stepping around the desk, Changmin ceased the vigorous movement of her arm and held her wrist. She gave him an expectant look with her amber hued eyes and he loosened his grasp on her. “I have dance practice for an hour and then I’m free. Want to come over and re-challenge my score?”

Kaia smirked, dropping her arm away from the board and turning towards him. “Your score? I’m pretty sure I annihilated you.”

“I was going easy on you, gender difference and all.”

Her golden eyes grew warmer and he smiled, she was definitely keen. “Let me show you just how inferior boys can be then. You’re on. Shall I wait for you in the car park after I’m done here?”

“I’ll be an hour max,” he confirmed and headed towards the door.

“Shim Changmin, the moment you are on time after practice is when I step into a parallel universe,” she called out to his retreating back and he shot her a grin over his shoulder, raising his hand in farewell. Jogging up the stairs to the practice room, he felt re-energised after his long day at work.

Ever since Kaia Ashton had taken over the part-time English tutoring at S.M. Entertainment seven months previous, Changmin seemed to enjoy the fresh breath of air into an otherwise suffocating routine of practice, promoting and jet setting around the world. Although he loved his job as a member of TVXQ, one of the most sought for singing groups across Asia, he had been in the career for a long time. He watched as trainees filled the place he had once been and waited for the opportunity to share the stage with them. It had been an especially trying year so far, ever since three of the original members had left the group. Only he and Yunho remained and they had to carry the burden of an entire successful career on the shoulders of two men instead of five. They had risen to the challenge, although it came with stress and a lot of hard work. It was slowly paying off, but Changmin knew it was only just the beginning.

Kaia remedied the exhaustion he had been experiencing. It had been a long time since he had found himself entirely uninhibited around a person who he barely knew, and especially with being a foreigner, Changmin hadn’t expected such a good friendship to emerge from the two hour lesson in English each week. When she first arrived, most of the SM artists had tried to get her attention, like a new toy in a kindergarten classroom. He had been unable to contribute in the conversations some of his friends had partaken in, not seeing Kaia as a woman of interest. Even Kyuhyun from Super Junior had enrolled for English lessons, and Changmin was certain his knowledge on the language and ability to pronounce English words weren’t playing a factor in his interest.

“Late, again,” he heard as he came rushing into the appropriate studio room and Changmin skidded to a stop, bowing lightly at his manager.

“I’m sorry.” Bowing again, he dumped his bag down and went over to the other man in the room who appeared exhausted. Yunho shot him a weak smile as Changmin fell into position beside him. Cringing slightly at the body language Yunho had just used, he looked over at his bag wondering when he’d get the opportunity to send a text to Kaia.

She wouldn’t be stepping into any parallel universe tonight.

“Three hours!” she complained for the umpteenth time as they entered his bedroom later that evening, Kaia dumping her purse on the bean bag chair in the corner and instantly climbing up onto the huge bed. Changmin went over to the television that took up half the far wall and turned it on; inserting the sports game they had been challenging each other on for the past two weeks. “I sat there like an idiot. Security asked me twice if I was a fan, even after I showed them my I.D card. Why do I always give you the benefit of the doubt?”

“Because one day I’ll eventually be on time and you’ll be the first to experience it,” he teased lightly but the British girl merely glared at him. He pouted, hoping to soften the expression. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t go easy on me,” she instructed as the game loaded up, and she chose to play tennis, a light groan leaving Changmin’s mouth. She glanced at him. “What? Want me to put on Heartstrings instead? You know I am forever missing out on my favourite shows because of you.”

“Why watch a silly drama?” he stated as he started hitting the buttons on the controller in his hand, the sounds of her own tapping joining in. “I don’t get why you get so hung up on it.”

“Yet you made a huge deal over making sure I saw Paradise Ranch, Changmin.”

He smirked. “Does Heartstrings have your best friend in it?”

“No but it does have someone highly attractive,” Kaia bit back, laughing triumphantly as she won the first match.

Changmin huffed and started hitting the buttons harder. “Your obsession with Jung Yonghwa is-”

“Don’t even go there!” she intervened, hitting the ball in the game with rapid speed into the opposite corner he had been anticipating. Changmin had to secretly admit that his lack of ability in actual sports was just as bad as his virtual attempts. He didn’t want to tell her this though; frustrated with how many games she had beat him in since knowing the girl.

“Why not? You are such a fangirl. Ugh.”

“You have serious issues, Min.” As the match completed again, she turned to look at him. “You have the love and support from all Cassiopeia and even your Mother has to tell you to be more respectful of said fangirls.”

“I just wish they didn’t all think of me like you do Yonghwa.”

“Excuse me?”

He nudged the girl and smirked. “You wish to be the girl he sings about.”

“Let me remind again, you there are thousands of girls who wish to be that for you.”

“Eh, like I have time to date,” he replied mindlessly, turning back to the game. Kaia faltered for a moment and Changmin let out a cheer as he finally won a match.

“Do you ever want to?”

He shrugged.

“What is that meant to mean?” she probed and dropped her controller altogether. “Are you, not that interested in girls?”

“What?!” Changmin asked in horror, watching as her pale skin reddened with her hearty laughter. “Hey, don’t joke about those kinds of things. Of course I do, I just haven’t met anyone who is worth fighting for. In case you haven’t noticed yet, it’s kind of hard to date when you’re as famous as I am. I’m amazed no one has written stories about us yet. Shim Changmin likes milk not caramel, oh the scandal!”

Kaia shoved him playfully and then looked at him with curious eyes. He disliked it when she got this way, knowing much like his own effect, her topaz gaze could get any answer out of him that she requested. He pretended to ignore the look, motioning to her forgotten controller.

“Pick it up or I’ll win by default.”

“Is there anyone you like?”

“Not really.”

“You and I are good friends now Min. I feel like I’ve known you forever. You know about my Yonghwa cru-”

“Everyone who knows you well enough is aware of that,” he chortled and winced as she slapped his lower arm. “Ow!”

“Surely there’s a girl out there that you like?”

Changmin shook my head. He was being honest. He liked girls, especially pretty ones, but he hadn’t really been looking in that kind of manner. Glancing at the curly haired girl, she regarded his expression before picking up her controller again. She smiled to herself and he frowned. “What?”

“I just remembered you can only have one true love in life, and you already have that.”

“You are ridiculous, what are you talking about?”

Kaia glanced at him, unable to control a pre-emptive giggle. “Your avid affair with food. If the refrigerator was a woman, I’m pretty sure you’d marry it.”

“YAH!” he cried as her infectious laughter boomed around the room. He poked her arm and then pointed at the controller in her hand. “Pay attention, I am so going to kick your butt now!”

_________________

Part 2

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[ithinkthingsaboutstuff]

Little Boy Blue (4)

midvale AU part 4

Karadox- AU of the 3x06 e.p of supergirl, in which Brainy (teen Brainy) arrives in Midvale around the e.p timeline. this is part 4 where Brainy has stayed the night with the Danvers sisters, and Superman is coming visit.

Kara was unable to sleep that night and not because there was a strange boy from the future she dragged into the house. No, she was nervous because she was going to see Kal that morning. she can’t explain why, he was her family after all but she had not talked to Kal in a long time. He was kind, understanding and of course a hero, her hero. 

But Kara could not shake this feeling like she was just being a burden to him, Alex was right she didn’t think this through. She was the one that brought Querl here and he was Kal’s friend so maybe he was looking for Kal? How did Kal know about Querl? but the worst of all these thoughts in Kara’s mind is that she had made a mess for her cousin to come and clean up for her.

When the sun started to rise Kara got ready and went down stairs to wait. When she reached the bottom of the steps to find Querl sitting there reading one of Eliza’s books.

‘he’s not here yet.’

‘I know but... I wanted to be down here when he did.’

‘then you will be pleased to know that your cousin has impeccable timing’ 

‘I know’

Querl assuming the conversation had ended then returned to his book and Kara looked at the door, then the clock it was 5:52 am so not long to go. Kara swayed in place and leaned into the lounge room, she held her shoulders with her hands and sat on the arm of the couch Querl was sitting on. she looked at the clock then at Querl. 

‘oh what the hell’ she thought

‘when did you and Kal meet?’

Querl looked up from his book.

‘We meet about 2 years ago for me, and about 13 years for him.’

‘Wow, so you know him as someone completely different.’

This confused Querl 

‘Is he or is he not Clark Kent of earth, Kal el of Krypton, Superman? or are you referring to some physiological event Kryptonan’s undergo that I am unaware of.’

Kara raised her eyebrows.

“no I mean that’s along time ago for Kal and people act really differently form when they were kids.’

‘I suppose your correct, but I guess will see in about 3 minutes or so.’

‘yeah i guess... What was he like, as a kid i mean.’

‘Well he was - is - one of a kind.’

Kara can’t help be see herself in Querl in that moment. As she was about to ask another question that had been bothering her and then it happened... a knock at the door. 

He’s here. 

Querl stood up as Kara went over to the door, she was walking to the door but she was moving so slow in her minds eye that it felt me like she was pacing on the surface of the moon. when she finally opened the door she was faced with a man in glasses, for a moment Kara’s brain did register this man as her cousin. Then again what was she expecting, him to show up to her neighbourhood in his red cape and boots. She looked up at him and he gave her a big farm boy smile. 

‘Hi, Kara.’

‘Hey Kal,’

his smile remained but his eyebrows lifted. 

‘oh umm, Clark remember.’

‘right, Clark, come in Eliza will be down soon.’    

Kara lead him in to the house as she followed behind him she noticed he was carrying a book bag that was then shortly abandoned to the floor as he head over to Querl with his arms out wide.  

‘Brainy!’

The man then wrapped, the now very small looking boy in his arms.

‘Clark, it has been some time it seems’

‘Speck for yourself you don’t look like you’ve aged a day.’

‘I will have you know i have aged, 247 days since are last meeting.’

‘well then you still haven’t hit the well needed growth spurt.’

‘or it seem’s you had one to many.’

Kara didn’t know was to make of them, she had never see Ka...Clark this way with anyone before it was strange. But Querl then seemed to have shrugged Clark off of him and placed is tips of his figures together.  

‘Clark, I need to speak with you...privately.’

Clark then looked over to Kara who was standing in the doorway.

‘Would that be ok,Kara?’

‘Yeah, I’ll go get Alex and Eliza up stairs.’

as Kara walked you the steps, she heard words like  Super hearing, Legion, Luornu and anti-matter force. when she reached the top of the stairs she saw Alex brushing her hair in the bathroom. 

‘Hey, my cousins here.’

‘Neat.’

She didn’t look away from the mirror.

‘Is Eliza up yet.’ 

‘Yeah, she be out in a sec.’

‘Ok,’

‘What.’

‘Nothing, Great Ruo’

Kara then walked over to Eliza’s room and went to knock on the door but it opened before she did.

‘Oh, Kara good morning,’

‘Morning Eliza, Clark's down stairs,’

‘right, let’s all go down, that means you to Alex’

‘Why,’

‘Because this concern everyone, including you.’

‘It won’t concern me if i stay out of it.’

‘Alex.’

‘Fine.’

They all went down stairs and made there way into the living room, as Kara heard.

‘Brainy, I’m not a kid anymore...Eliza good to see you again.’

‘You to Clark.’

‘Have you meet my friend properly yet.’

‘Yes I did when I got home last night.’

Kara grit her teeth. Clark then looked to Alex

‘Hi Alex.’

‘Hi.’

‘Ok, we have a lot to cover here so I’m just going to lay it out for everyone, ok, do you all want to sit down.’

everyone sat down as Clark remained standing. Kara noticed that Querl’s demeanor had changed to frustrated and uneasy.  

‘First off, I’d like to thank Kara for Helping Querl get somewhere safe, Secondly the ship Querl came in has been taken... by the government already, though that’s bad, the good new is they won’t know that it’s from the future, Bad new is we can’t get to it. Now luckily Querl is more then smart enough to build his own ship but he can’t just yet as the government will be looking for an alien around this area so moving him would be a mistake right now.’

‘Oh Hell no,’

‘Alex’

‘No Mom can’t you see what he’s doing, he’s dumping another one off for us to deal with because he can’t.’      

‘Alex that is enough, no one was dumped here the first time, and I would like to think that God forbid, anything like this happened to you that someone would be willing to do what i have done for your sister. Do you understand’

‘Yes Mom, Sorry Mom.’

‘Thank you, go on Clark.’

‘Ok finally and for reasons I can’t explain, I won’t be able to asset Querl after today,’

Querl put his head down in defeat. 

‘What? what do you mean you can’t help,’

‘Kara, believe me I want nothing more, but there are thing happening that I can’t interfere with no matter how much i want to.’ 

‘I thought he was your friend. Your just going to leave him like this.’

‘Yes and now i can in good conscience, knowing that I am leaving him with the people who would fight for him as hard as I would.’

Kara fell silent after that, Clark was leaving Querl here for her to help when he knew he couldn’t. He trusted her with his friend’s life. 

‘Eliza I’m sorry for doing this.’

‘Don’t be, i’m happy to help.’

Alex seemed to have reached her limit and left the room running up the stairs.

‘I wish could make things easier for Alex, but i.’

‘These things take time Clark and she a Danvers so she’s as strong as they come. On earth anyway.’

With that Clark gathered his things and went to the door Kara, Eliza and Querl followed.

‘Thank again Eliza, Kara it was good seeing you.’

Clark than looked at Querl

‘Brainy, I umm, It will be ok even if it dosen’t seem like it now. Eliza will look after you and Kara will look out for you. I know she will.’

Kara nodded. Querl lifted his head up

‘Until we meet again.’

he then put his hands behind his back and turned away and left into the house.

‘He took that about as well as I thought. l’ll be seeing you.’

and Clark went on his way.

‘Eliza, I’m sorry I brought Querl here without telling you.’

‘It’s alright Kara and this time I’m kind of glad. Who knows what would of happened to that boy if anyone else found him luckily it was just you.’

Eliza then walked into the kitchen and Kara stopped dead in her tracks, she then suddenly realised.  

OH SHIT, KENNY

.

to be continued 

[flyswhumpcenter]

Found You in the Woods - Chapter 1

NEXT CHAPTER

Summary: Even if Manon was searching for Alan near some woods yet again, she truly didn't expect to find him lying on the ground in the middle of the leaves fallen from the trees. (or: Manon proves she's so much more than some potential burden and Alan is a stubborn idiot, but that's why we love them)

Fandom: Pokemon (Anime, post Kalos arc) Ships: Marissonshipping (Alan/Manon)

Wordcount: 3K words

Notes: I can't believe I got dragged into Pokemon again, but I especially can't believe I got dragged into another ship too. Thanks, Azure. Jokes aside, I got this idea as soon as I watched the second part of the Mega-Evo special?? It was quick and painless, but impressive nonetheless.

AO3 version available here.

           They’re used to travelling alone together. Manon and her fellow Chespie, she means: she wishes they’d be three, but Alan has this terrible tendency to refuse travelling with her for a reason she cannot quite put her finger on. It’s frustrating, but that’s how things are.

Now, that doesn’t mean she isn’t trying to get back to him… She’s gone in the same direction than him and asked people where he had gone, so she can’t be that far from him. She’s going to find him again, and this time, he won’t be able to refuse!

 They’re walking by the side of a cliff, whose side she hopes not to slip on and roll over, when she notices something peculiar in the sky. While they’ve been distracted by the chirping of some Pokemons flying around, they were all native to the region and logically found near woods and cliffs to feed. These are mostly small creatures flying around to steal Trainers’ food and defy each other in aerial battles with no referee, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it’s nice to see such a show when they’ve mostly been journeying through forest after forest.

And that’s why she can’t really reasonably expect a Charizard to show up from literally nowhere near them, its orange scales fiercely soaring through the blue, sunny sky of warmish early summer days.

 At first, Manon stops in her tracks, faces the cliff and wonders why a Charizard could possibly have ventured near them. Perhaps its Trainer is somewhere nearby, and that they’re taking a break? It could be the case: after all, she isn’t the only one to be travelling across the Kalos region, so she shouldn’t be that surprised to see the dragon-type prevent itself from getting too cramped up in a tight space where it can’t fly.

But here’s the catch: that Charizard has a familiar-looking necklace, a piece of jewellery she has already seen somewhere else before and truly rings something to her mind. The lack of a shiny Mega Stone makes her doubt her theory at first, but in the end, the collar is too unique for her to pass up: this is none other than Alan’s Charizard, and she gets excited the moment she realizes that Alan must be nearby for his most trusted companion to be here, almost face-to-face with her.

 “Chespie”, she addresses the Chespin now on her shoulder, “it’s Alan’s Charizard! Let’s follow it, I’m sure it knows where he is!”

Her own companion nods his head positively, so her heart gets even more ecstatic. This is a great day! Beautiful weather, comfortable silence, gentle breeze, and a chance to find her best friend again. If she does, he’ll have to admit she can completely find her way on her own just fine and is entirely ready to travel with him and improve herself as a Trainer.

 Chespie climbs back onto her shoulder as she runs after the Charizard flying nearby. While she follows it, she starts realizing it is much slower than she originally thought: is it its break from training with Alan, or is there something else to it? Maybe it’s just tired, even if it’s just the morning… Perhaps these two have been training together all night, or very late into the night, and it wants to prove a point by disobeying and taking a nap elsewhere? Wait, no, that doesn’t make much sense… Charizard has always been very obedient and loyal to Alan no matter their hardships, while would it just leave him for something as minor as a nap? That’s one more reason to follow it: maybe she’ll know what’s wrong if she tracks Alan’s trace and asks him.

Charizard keeps getting slower, as if getting fatigued. She can finally look at its face: it has worried eyes, its otherwise fierce glaze stuck in either daydreaming or foggy concern, nothing like what she’s seen from it before, ever. Worry starts rooting into her own chest: she has an awful presentiment about it all, she can just feel it, and it pesters her into running faster and faster, until she’s out of breath and has to stop in dead in her tracks, pained at the idea of having to give up on following the dragon to its Trainer because she doesn’t have enough stamina to go through with the idea. Goshdarnit!

 Manon lets herself lean against a tree, back gliding down it until she’s sitting on the ground, frustrated with herself and frustrated with how much she can’t run at her full speed to the end of the world would she need to. Crossing her arms around her knees and pulling her legs towards her torso, she sulks in frustration at how nature is.

That is, until Charizard lands right in front of them.

 Saying she’s kind of confused is an understatement. The Pokemon seems to have recognized it: its eyes are staring directly at hers, without any curiosity or hostility. Chespie doesn’t seem fazed either, poking at her arm. It’s obviously an invitation to climb on its back, but that doesn’t feel quite right, doesn’t it? Why would Alan’s Charizard be looking for her in any way, shape or form? Overthinking has never been her specialty, so she jumps on the dragon’s back, Chespie on its head, and they fly away, far away from there maybe. There’s only one real explanation as to why she got suddenly so eager to jump on some Pokemon’s back: the quickest way to Alan was through his own trusted companion who could, as opposed to her pained feet, carry itself and others easily to places she would have never been able to access on her own anyway.

 Charizard flies in the opposite direction Manon has seen it fly in previously, as if going back to where it originally came from. So the Pokemon has been near Alan recently enough to easily come back to him: this really seems to be the quickest way to find her friend again! What a lucky gal she’s been on this one, her nose truly never mistakes her ever (except when it does)!

“Here I come, Alan!” she finds herself screaming, wishing she could rise her hands in the air to show her happiness and success, but instead Chespie tries to do it for her, and it’s great.

 After a few minutes (or so she thinks? It’s unclear, and she’s always been fairly impatient) of flying around, Charizard lands on a bit of land in contact with the canyon, right in front of some woods she’s never seen before. They look rather thick, but Manon’s been known and famed for her good sense of orientation and capacity to find her way out of impossibly tangled situations. She isn’t afraid by the idea of going into those woods, it’s been her daily life for a while now. Glancing at Chespie to judge by his reaction, he seems to agree with her as he nods to her silent question.

 It’s a good coincidence, considering Charizard starts entering the little forest, tail encouraging them to follow it through the range of trees. She can’t even fathom why Alan would get himself lost in the woods like that: she very much doubts he’d ever be able to find any Mega Evolution-related stones in the soil rooted with hundreds of different trees. They usually visited caves and mines because of that, before he tried dumping her again for some reason she’s forgotten the details of since then, aside that it made her angry yet again. She was responsible enough to travel with him, get better as they went along, but… he kept saying she wasn’t ready. Why? He never even explained her why he thought that…

 The woods are calm, serene, with a few bug Pokemons glancing at their little impromptu group, no big deal made out of anything. Manon’s never been scared of bugs: they’ve always been a part of her life, since trekking in the forest usually involves finding “pesky nasties”. Instead, she enjoys walking around, following the large, orange dragon with an odd necklace, certain to find her friend again at the end of the path. Surely nothing can go wrong on such a sunny day, right?

 Manon glances at Charizard’s face from time to time, as she’s faster than it. She’s not the best at reading Pokemons’ faces, but she can tell there’s something wrong with it. She’s always seen it so confident, so proud by Alan’s side, so she cannot bring herself to think there can’t be something at least a tiny bit wrong. Perhaps it did get lost and hopes it can bring it back to its Trainer? That’d mean she has an Alan-radar in her head, and she really isn’t certain about that; otherwise, she’d have found him in a much shorter span of time. Chespie doesn’t seem as perturbed as she is by the other Pokemon’s expression, but still climbs on her shoulder.

 “Chespie,” she tells her fellow companion, “I think there may be something wrong with Charizard. I wonder what it is…”

The Chespin, as if he understood her, immediately looks at the dragon’s face behind them. He shakes his arms and nods.

“So it ain’t just me, then…”

She’s worried, all of a sudden.

 And just as quickly as she got excited to follow this Charizard around, Manon gets worried about what can possibly be up with Alan. Maybe they got split in the woods, and Charizard was looking for someone to help him out of some hole or trap? It’d only be retribution for her to help him out when he’s helped her before… After all, doesn’t she just want him safe, out of any danger life could be throwing at him in arduous times like this? Perhaps she’s needed. That could be the perfect opportunity to prove to him she’s dependable and not a… weight on his feet he needs to drag around everywhere he goes…

 The little group eventually finds themselves in a… Actually, it’s not any specific part of the woods. It’s still trees upon trees in disorganized rows, but aside from the fact there is very little activity around the place, it’s ordinary and Manon really can’t tell why Charizard has brought her there. No, really, there’s nothing coming to her mind that makes her emit any hypothesis as to why they’re here and not in any other part of the woods. Perhaps Charizard just got lost and doesn’t dare tell Chespie and her that it got them lost? She wouldn’t be too angry at it, not everybody has her instinct in forests. It’s not like Alan brings them often in woods anyway.

But then she looks at its face again, and it hasn’t changed. In fact, the dragon still looks concerned, and that’s when the reddest of flags is risen for her.

 Speaking of which, it’s only now that she realizes this: if Charizard isn’t lost and did bring them where it wanted them to be, where’s Alan? He’s nowhere to be found. She’d hear his footsteps in the cracking leaves if he was walking around, which she’d assume he’d do. Maybe he’s brooding sitting on a rock like a statue? That’s totally an Alan thing to do, right? Well then, too bad there isn’t a single rock that’s standing out in this place, because it’d have made things much easier. Chespie and she then look up: maybe he’s in the trees. But alas, there’s also very much no Alan to be spotted amongst the green leaves and few bug Pokemons hanging around the place. This is starting to look like a joke, a joke Manon really doesn’t want to take a part in. She’s worried and nothing is here to relieve her, it seems.

 And then she spots some kind of informal black form somewhere amongst the leaves.

 Curious and slightly reminded of Alan’s very emo way of dressing (that’s what they call “emo”, right?), she walks up towards it, intrigued. It’s quite the unusual sigh in a forest like, all greens and browns and then you see a black thing on the ground, barely rising from the leaves… There’s another odd thing about this shapeless thing: the closer she gets to it, the louder a breathing noise is to her ears. That’s… that’s pretty terrifying to think about. Maybe it’s her own breathing, though, even if it sounds somewhat familiar yet estranged from her own self. It’s not Chespie’s, and Charizard has barely moved… And it sounds human. Oddly, eerily human.

 The realization hits her like Charizard’s Thunder Punch right in the face.

This form… is Alan.

 She runs as if she has never been fatigued from running before to it (him?) just to verify her hypothesis, just to prove herself wrong, that she’s simply paranoid and wanting to find her friend again very much. She’s trying to reassure herself, that it’s just a hunch, that she’s just hearing her own breathing and gets panicked because she’s already concerned. Alan wouldn’t be there in the middle of the woods, right? Perhaps Charizard brought her to someone else while he’s gone to get some rescue and help. It’s just her, it’s just her mind, it’s just her thoughts racing at uncountable miles per hour, it’s all her, it’s all in her head…

 And then Manon’s foot arrives right before the form, and she recognizes Alan’s body face down against the ground, surrounded by dead and drying leaves.

 She drops to her knees, both in shock and inhumane reflexes she never knew she had until now. She rolls him on his back, a mere wish not to see him eat the dirt. Her hand is trembling on his shoulder, her mouth can’t close anymore, and she wants to cry in concern; but she cannot because she’s promised him to be strong, to be strong enough to be with him without being his burden, so she shakes her head and keeps on doing what she thinks she should be doing right now.

 Alan looks like he’s fast asleep, at first. She’s relieved to know he’s still breathing, even if she should have expected him to survive the toughest challenges in life. However, she quickly notices there has to be something more to it than mere sudden sleep syndrome: he’s always been a strong guy, he wouldn’t fall asleep suddenly and in such a weird place. His eyes are closed, sure, but they look more shut than closed, and she realizes it’s because he’s not asleep: he’s unconscious.

 That’s bad. He has a deep frown on his face, similar to when he hurt his shoulder when sheltering her from debris a while back. No, no, that’s terrible…

“Alan? Alan, what’s wrong?!” She calls to him, in vain, in a hope he wakes up and explains her what’s not right with him. He obviously doesn’t reply, doesn’t wake up, and her stomach churns.

 Manon shakes her head again. She needs to keep her calm and see what’s truly wrong: if he won’t or can’t tell her, then she’ll guess herself. She takes off her hat and puts it under his head as an improvised pillow (it’s probably not comfortable, but it’ll do for now); then studies his face in more details. If he looks this pained, something must be hurting him, right? However, when she checks his different limbs, she can’t find any injury or even a stain of dirt: there’s simply no sign he injured himself, and while that’s a good thing for him, but it’s not for her, since it doesn’t give her any answer, she can base herself off.

 While she does so, as she inspects his hands by looking to see if his palms got bruised or wounded, she realizes something bizarre: usually, Alan’s skin is naturally cool, perhaps because he isn’t very hot-blooded like she tends to be. This can’t be a good sign, especially when she sees sweat pearling on his face and dripping down his temples to the ground. It dawns on her again, as she lets out a tiny gasp, and she puts her hand on his forehead to get a feel for his temperature.

Sure enough, she turns out to be right: he is feverish.

 Manon finally understands why Charizard has brought her here, just as it gets closer to her and stays by its Trainer’s side. There settles panic in her head: what’s she supposed to do, now?! She isn’t a doctor, she isn’t a nurse, there’s no Pokemon Centre nearby, they’re in the middle of the woods, Charizard can’t carry the three of them and she sure cannot carry Alan by herself… As she scrambles for shards of what ideas as to what to do, she realizes she can just ask Charizard why Alan may have asked it to do before she arrived there.

 “Charizard,” she glances up at her friend’s partner with earnest eyes, and it looks back at her with similar irises, “can you try reaching the nearest Pokemon Centre and get some help from there? It may be a while away, but… that’s the one way I know how to help your Trainer!”

The dragon nods, seemingly in agreement, and takes off through the trees. She doesn’t have much time to wonder about why it now decided to do so (perhaps because it wasn’t sure of the way to come back to Alan otherwise?), since her eyes instantly dart back to Alan’s rising-and-downing chest.

 She takes off her scarf with the intention of dumping it in some water and attempt bringing comfort to her ill friend, but instead, she realizes she has no way to freshen it for him. There’s no river nearby she could send Chespie to, and she has no Pokemon on her that have any Water-type move. As far as she knows, not even Alan has one on him at the moment, so she’s stuck waiting here, wondering what she could do for him.

As it stands, Manon has no real answer to the problem, so she retains her tears and hopes for him to wake up soon as she puts his head on her lap instead.

[dreams-disparate]

Dream no.2

-- <START TRANSCRIPT> --

        I told you I’d be back! I’m…a little surprised you still work, but I suppose I’m used to all tech being manufactured to fall apart. That’s one of the benefits of sending my voice out through this little device then, I suppose; it’s still fundamentally the same technology at play as you’d find in the latest cyberdecks and data assistants. Still hardware, all those little valves and tubes we trapped all that ancient arcane energy in. It could be so powerful – it should be so much more powerful than it is, but we tapped that resource endlessly and now it serves us. I shouldn’t say “us”, as though I belong to that community. I don’t belong to any community, that I know of.

        You seemed put-off by my surprise at your being able to hear me; it’s because I don’t think anyone else can anymore. I…I don’t want to get too into it yet—I mean, we barely know each other—but I’m…all that matters right now is that I’m a form of alone, except for you. But now that you’re here with me, I can share my thoughts, my feelings. What are we if not our thoughts and feelings? I know a thing or two about impermanence. Do you…actually exist? Forget I asked. I need to go out for a bit, will you be alright on your own? Psh, who am I kidding? Back in a bit.

                                                        &&

        I…Fuck.

                                                        &&

        Okay. Whew. I’m back. I’m here. I’m Here. I’m Here.

        I got what I needed to. Some food, some water—you know the stuff from the pipes is tainted right? Please don’t ever drink it, they say it’s safe, but I promise you it isn’t. People…change after drinking too much of it. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve been there as they changed. It’s a slow process, it takes days before anything noticeable starts manifesting. And that’s only after the person’s been drinking that shit for ages. Stuff, sorry. Drinking that stuff. I used to watch—I’d just sit around people’s houses and watch them as they went about their day. They didn’t see me of course, I don’t exist after all, so they were always just their honest self. It’s refreshing, sort of. I could just choose someone and watch them throughout their interactions with others, then compare that against their actions in private. I used to judge people for that difference. Hypocrite. But I don’t do that now—don’t people-watch like that, I mean. I think I just got bored of it. Wouldn’t you? After enough people, it becomes a bit repetitive.

        I’m planning another trip to the dump, I think. Any old tech I find, I try to haul back to my place to revitalise, but my Volt95 only has the two seats so I can only carry so much. It’s nimble for it, at least. Those no-resistance grav tires just fly on the speedways, and I’m more than happy to let them pull me along with them. It’s weird, I know I don’t exist in this world properly, but somehow when I’m speeding down the straights on my bike, I feel even further disconnected from the world—but in a wonderfully freeing way. My punishment is a burden, absolutely, but it’s derealisation is completely different from what I feel flying along on the Volt95.

        I should try and get some rest, I think. You should too, I’m sure I’ve worn you down somewhat this time. I don’t want to lose you; I’ve only just got you—got someone back here with me again. I’m…slipping away. I don’t think you’ll hear my voice again. It’ll be someone else’s next time. Wish them well for me, will you? Make sure they know I was here. I know a thing or two about impermanence, after all.

-- <END TRANSCRIPT> --

        For E.

        I thought of you again today. Or rather, I thought of when Trin used to say your name. I…think it was your name—no, even if it wasn’t your name it was still you she was talking about. Why did you hurt her?

[propshophannah]

[A Seer for the Seer] 

Glass shattered. Then Azriel was racing across the balcony. He darted inside the House of Wind. Feyre and Cassian not a second behind him.

"ELAIN."

She was having a vision. The crystal vase she'd been carrying crashed to the ground, shattering atop her bare feet. She had no idea. Her eyes were cloudy, lips moving as she mumbled. Her arms held awkwardly in front of her, fingers twitching and fluttering as if playing an instrument, a piano maybe.

Azriel got to her first. He hated touching her when she was in the midst of a vision, but sometimes her feet moved and the last time she'd had one while carrying something it'd been a mirror, and he'd spent all night holding her hand while two healers picked the shards from the bottoms of her feet. It'd taken a day to heal.

He slipped his arms around her ribs and lifted her up. She started kicking. But Feyre and Cassian were there. They each grabbed one of Elain's calves and held them apart, he tried not to look at the glass in her feet.

He stepped backward, away from the mess. “Let’s set her down over here.” He backed across the room until he found the large table's corner. He set Elain up and pushed her back, using the corner to help keep her legs apart.

It worried him how quickly they'd all learned to react.

They'd done this more times than he cared to admit.

Cassian and Feyre let Elain go. She sat up on her own, kicking her legs but with enough room that her glass riddled feet wouldn't touch.

"She's bleeding," Cassian said.

Feyre squeezed Azriel's arm. "I'll go get a healer. You stay with her." Azriel nodded and took Feyre's place in front of Elain.

She mumbled to herself. Hands jerking awkwardly. Cassian began picking up the mess.

Come back to me, he thought. But she did not.

“In the shadows, in the shadows, hiding in the shadows,” she mumbled.

"I feel useless."   

Cassian paused. "You're not."

"I'm not so sure."

Cassian stopped cleaning. He was crouched on the floor, a small pan for dust in one hand, a tiny brush in the other. "There'd be far more glass in her feet if it weren't for you. Focus on what went right."

Azriel reached out and pulled a strand of hair from where'd it'd caught in Elain's lips. "Sometimes I'm scared to leave the house. Leave her alone."

Cassian used a siphon to sweep the rest of the mess and dump it into the trash. He stood. But didn't move any closer. Just waited.

Azriel said, "Three weeks ago, I found her in the kitchen... She was leaning over the counter—completely unaware she was scraping her nails across it. A pot of boiling water inches away, Cass. Inches. If I'd not come home, if I'd gone upstairs to change first, if I hadn't thought to see where she was..." He shook his head, staring at his scarred hands. He didn’t want that for Elain.

"But you did go into the kitchen, Az. You did find her. And everything worked out."

"But what about next time? What about when I'm away working, or she goes into the city—it's getting worse. It never used to be like this. Last week we were in... I—fuck.”

Cassian laid a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out."

Azriel brushed his brother’s hand off. “Figure it out?! You mean take Rhys’s advice and hire a babysitter for my wife—my wife?” A wedge of tears clogged his throat. “Pay Nualla or Cerridwen to sit with her any time she’s alone. She’s going to fucking love that. ‘Here, sunshine. I’ve hired you a babysitter for eternity,’ Fuck. Cassian—fuck.” He wiped the few tears that’d slipped from his face. “Fuck.”

“Hiding in the shadows, too long in the shadows,” Elain mumbled.

“Nesta has been looking into options. She’s been researching some of the projects the Dawn Court healers—”

“It happened when we were in bed together.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. Cassian froze, but his hand again went to his brother’s shoulder. “I-I was on top of her, Cass—in her. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked,” he looked at his brother, “panicked. I’ve never been so scared. I thought I’d...I thought I’d crossed a line—”

“What happened?”

Tears fell from Azriel’s face. “I stopped—immediately—I stopped. I swear. I wrapped her up and went straight to the healing’s wing in the House. I walked in the door and just…” he shook his head, “I told everything to the first person I saw.”

“Look at me. You did the right thing. You made the right call.”

Azriel nodded. “You think so?”

Cassian gave him an easy smile. “It was a bit of an overreaction. But neither of you had ever been in that situation before. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know what she’d do. You’d never talked about it. So it was the right call. And I bet you felt better after?” It was a leading question, but Azriel didn’t care. He needed to… to talk. Confide in someone he knew, share his burden.

“When Elain came out of it, I think, I think she thought I was being ridiculous. But I think she knew I needed to see the healers more than her.”

“Did...you?”

“Yes—don’t look so pleased with yourself, Cassian.”

His brother was indeed smiling a bit too much. Cassian clapped him on the shoulder, then stepped back. “I’m not pleased with myself. I’d just like to point out that this is the first time you’ve ever talked about … well anything remotely emotional or personal. Rhys is going to be jealous—wait, have you had this conversation with him already?”

Azriel huffed and shook his head. His brother was just trying to lighten the mood. “You’re insufferable.”

Cassian gave him a winning smile. “I know.”

A shuddering, gasping breath. “Azriel?” Both males turned to Elain. Her face was ashen, but her eyes were clear, normal. She reached for him. “I’m s-sorry.” Then she was crying into his chest. “It��s m-my fault. It’s me.”    

He wrapped her in his arms, and knew by the gut-wrenching sobs she wasn’t talking about the broken glass. “What did you see, sunshine? Tell me what you saw?” Her skin was clammy.

Sometimes after a vision, Elain was drained—physically and mentally. She needed food and water and sometimes a nap or to lie down in the sun of the garden to recover. Tears were not unusual. The healers said sometimes visions can alter hormone levels, sometimes other chemicals in the brain.

But sometimes she cried because she saw things, horrible things. Tears from those visions took longer to pass.

He pressed his cheek into her head, kissed it, smoothed her hair. “You can tell me, sunshine.”

Her breathing steadied at the same time he felt her hands loosen in his shirt, her body going slack. She was drained, probably about to pass out. He rubbed her back slightly, her dress was slicked with sweat. “Rest now. We can talk later.”

She nodded her head as best she could and went still. He looked up at Cassian who jerked his head toward the door. Feyre had just walked in with a healer. Azriel pointed up at the ceiling and they understood.

He scooped Elain, who had indeed passed out, and carried her to one of his private quarters in the House. The healer rubbed something on her gums to keep her asleep then went to work picking the glass from her feet.

He left the door to the bedroom cracked when it was over and went out into the hallway. Where he vanished into the shadows.

He stayed there for a long time. Hiding, crying, wishing he knew what to do to help her.

When he was annoyed with his sulking, he went out into the livingroom. Cassian and Feyre were waiting, a tray of food with the dinner he’d missed sat on the table between them. They were playing cards. The sun was down.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Cassian said. “We decided to have dinner here.”

Azriel shook his head and sat in one of the armchairs.

Feyre picked up a card. “Can we deal you in?”

He shook his head.

She exchanged a look with Cassian. “The healer said Elain’s feet were good as new by the time she left. That’s good.”

“That’s very good.” Cassian laid down his cards. “Look at that I lost.” He threw the cards back into the pile and Feyre pushed them all back into a neat stack. “Well that was fun how about a drink?”

Feyre popped off the couch, “I’ll grab some wine or maybe something from the liquor cabinet?”

Cassian opened his mouth, but Azriel said, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Of course you do, brother. Else you wouldn’t have a job.” He turned to Feyre, “He keeps the expensive stuff on the left side of the cabinet—ooh, and grab the little fancy glasses if you see them.”

“The crystal ones?”

“Yes, those.” Feyre left the room and Cassian pushed the tray of food toward Az. “We saved you some.”

“I can see that. Thank you.”

“We’ll figure it out, Az.”

But Azriel had no response. He just stared out the large bay of windows at the city below. The lights seemed to twinkle in the night.

“At least have a drink with us before you disappear into the shadows again. What do you do in there anyway?”

Azriel gave him a level look. “Avoid you.”

Cassian chuckled. “Of course you do.” And Az couldn’t help but feel… lighter.

Feyre returned a moment later with three glasses and a bottle of his most expensive whiskey. Cassian poured them all a generous portion and clinked all their glasses.

Feyre said, “What are we drinking to?”

“To brooding shadowsingers,” Cassian provided.

Azriel couldn’t hide the small smile that crept into the line of his mouth. “To me.”

“To you,” his High Lady said. They all took a sip.

They went in a circle toasting to ridiculous things when the shadows whispered that Elain had stirred. Az jumped up to check on her. And found her fast asleep beneath an old quilt Rhys’s mom had sewn for him. He tucked it in around her and brushed a quiet knuckle down her cheek then kissed her temple.   

On his way out of the room, he lifted the blanket to check her feet. They were completely healed. No sign of any damage. She probably wouldn’t even remember.

But he would.

He walked back to the living room, footsteps slow, heavy. And found Nesta Archeron standing beside Cassian’s chair. Her arms folder across her chest, her exquisite face focused entirely on him. Great.

He reached for his drink and sat down. Cassian cleared his throat. “Nesta’s been looking at options.”

Here we go, he thought. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, and scrubbed a hand down his face. Setting his drink back on the table, he looked from Cassian to Nesta. “Options?”

“She found a research program run by Lucien’s friend Nuan in the Dawn Court. They have a group of dogs with a very specific set of talents.” When Azriel just stared, he continued. “Most of the animals came from a training program in the Winter Court where they’re taught to sniff out animals under the ice. Nuan thought it would be interesting to see if they could scent specific ailments in Fae—”

“Cassian, where is this going?”

“I’m getting there, brother. Nuan sent a note to Lucien a few months ago saying that out of the dogs in the program, one of them reacted differently to one of her trainers. That trainer is a seer. Nuan thought Lucien would be interested in this information. He reached out to Nes—”

“And I traveled to the Dawn Court to see if it was true,” Nesta said. “I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to get our hopes up.” She exchanged a look with her sister. “There’s a seer in the Day Court who is open about her gifts. Lucien convinced his father to let her travel to the Dawn Court to see if we could test the dog on her.”

Feyre sat forward. “And?”

“Every time,” Nesta’s voice cracked. “The dog got it right every time.” Cassian slipped an arm around her waist. She only stared at Feyre.

“There are fifteen dogs in the program, Az,” Cassian said. “And only one with the ability to help Elain. It’s expensive. They don’t know if there are other dogs like this one, or if he’s one of a kind. It’s… expensive. Thesan is sympathetic to our—”

“I already bought the dog.” Everyone looked at Nesta.

Feyre blinked. “You what?”

“I already bought the dog.” She folded her arms tighter around her chest. “There wasn’t another option. Rhys pays me too much anyway. The money just sits there—”

“I’ll help,” Feyre said.

Nesta shook her head. “You’ve done enough. And don’t look at me like that Cassian. You should be happy I’m penniless. You’ve only been asking me to move in for months.”

“Wait. Wait.” Azriel moved to the edge of his chair. “I don’t—I don’t understand. What does the animal do?” He looked at his brother then his High Lady.

Her eyes were lined with silver. “The dog can detect when a seer is about to have a vision.”

He blinked. And looked back at Cassian. Then to Nesta. “I-I don’t understand.”

“Time,” Nesta said. “The dog will buy us time. Time for Elain to winnow to a safe place. Time to lie down somewhere—time. Time she may not have had. Time we may not have had with her.” She sat on the arm of Cassian’s chair and wiped at a tear. “We just have to introduce the dog to Elain, make sure they’re a fit—”

“If the dog can handle you, Nes,” Cassian said, “then it’ll absolutely adore sweet Elain.”

She dutifully ignored him. “They don’t know how it works. If the dog is able to scent a change that indicates an oncoming vision, or if it’s picking up on something else. And it doesn’t matter. The dog can detect when Elain is going to have a vision anywhere from three minutes to twelve hours before it happens.”

Azriel sat back. Shook his head, letting out a long breath. Hope was a dangerous thing. “Twelve hours… is a long time.” He rubbed at his chest.

“I don’t think it’s so long,” Elain said.

Azriel sat straight as she entered the room. Her face was ashen, but she looked better than she had earlier. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s better to know. Sometimes I’m scared to leave the house”—Az grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips, wrinkling his eyes closed—“scared to go swimming, or walk near the lake. It’s why I made you put in a showering stall in place of the bath.” She stroked the hair back from his face with her free hand. The movement soothing, calming.

He swallowed hard and opened his eyes. She smiled at him, squeezing his hand. What had he ever done to deserve her?

He dared a look at Nesta. “How does it work? How will the dog alert me—us? How will she know?” Elain kissed his forehead and Azriel shot his brother a look as if to say: Don’t you dare. Cassian only smiled innocently, as if to say: What? I’d never!

Nesta said, “The dog exhibits anxious behaviors. He whines and circles the seers. His tail usually wags but it stays low, his head, too. He’s trained to stay with you during the visions. He’ll bark if there’s danger. He’s big, too. Bred to pull sleds in the Winter Court. We’ve been teaching him t-to rescue people.” She wiped her face. “Just in case. Dragging them mostly by biting a loose piece of clothing. We’ve done it in water a few times, too.”

Elain smiled, “Him?”

Nesta nodded. “He’s two years old, grey and white coloring. I named him Shadow… because he’ll shadow you when,” she looked everywhere but at Azriel, “when no one else is around. You can change his name if you want.”

“Shadow is perfect.” She smoothed a hand over Azriel’s shoulders. “When can we meet him?” Her stomach growled. She blushed.

Azriel pulled her into his lap and didn’t care that Cassian’s feet were propped on the coffee table—he pulled it toward them. He picked up the dinner tray and began handing Elain things to eat.

The others took the hint and left. No one was going to take Elain’s focus away from eating while Azriel was there. They’d gather in the morning and figure out the rest.

Elain ate half his vegetarian sandwich—loaded with three different kinds of cheese, every color of bell pepper, a basil sauce and piled high with fresh spinach and cucumbers—a side of roasted sweet potatoes, a side of steamed broccoli, half a bran muffin, and two glasses of water.

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest of the sandwich?”

“I don’t think I could stuff another bite of anything into my stomach right now. Why are you smiling?”

He shrugged. “Doing things for you… calms me. There’s food in your belly, you’re safe in my arms, there’s a roof over your head…”

She nestled into his lap. “I’m happy, healthy and whole.”

But the word hung between them. Healthy. What did that even mean… He rubbed his chest, turning his head away. It was hard to take a deep breath.

“Az,” she whispered, “there’s nothing wrong with me, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, she sat up. She wiped his tears as she pulled his face to her. “There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with us. We’re going to be fine.”

He nodded, letting out a shuddering breath.

“Is that why you almost said no?”

He shrugged. Nodded. Shook his head—then buried his face in her neck. She held him there while he cried, running her hands through his thick, dark hair. His tears slipped down her skin, beneath the fabric of her nightgown.

Sometime later, they sat there in the silent moonlight, each of their heads on the others shoulder. Each lightly stroking the other’s back. Azriel said, “I’m scared that one day I’ll come home and find you at the bottom of the stairs, or drown in the shower, or bloody, or burned. I can’t”—he panted—“I can’t find you like that”—another pant—“can’t let that happen I just found you—”

She grabbed his face. “Breathe, little bird. Breathe.” He did, he tried. “When was the last time you slept?”

Another shrug. “I keep having this dream where I come home and find you… and you’re… when I find you...” He took a deep breath. “It’s always different, but it always ends with me holding you singing that-that song.”

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine… He pushed the hideous thought away.

She kissed his left cheek, then the right, then his forehead. “Everything will be fine. Nesta says this dog can help, so we’re going to try.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“What if it does?”

He couldn’t help but feel better, lighter at the smile on her face, the hope in her voice. “Everything will be fine. We’ll try the dog and if it doesn’t work, that’s okay. We’ll keep looking. That doesn’t mean we give up, okay?”

He nodded, and she kissed him. Then she stood and offered him her hand. He let her lead him to the bedroom where they washed up and he climbed into bed. He didn’t ask if she wanted to fly back to their house. And he was pretty sure she’d opted to stay there because she knew that having the healers a few floors away would help ease him.

Elain approached the bed and climbed up on his side, throwing a leg over his waist. It was dark, but the moon was full. She kissed him. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay?”

He nodded. She kissed him again.

“Every time you have a negative thought, I want you to rethink it and make it positive.”

He nodded again. She kissed him again, and moved his hand to her upper thigh, beneath the fabric of the gown—where he found nothing but bare skin.

She moved her hips. “I’m not going anywhere, Az. I’m right here.” His other hand followed the first, to cup the bare skin of her backside. She ground down on him. “You’re right here. This is us. Just us.”

He nodded and she lifted her hips to reach between them, pulling the waistband of his sleeping pants to reveal his swelling flesh. The night air was cold on his bare skin, but warm where Elain wrapped her hand around him. She stroked him—gentle and firm. He thickened for her, hardened for her.

He lifted her gown to watch as she lined up their bodies. Watched—and felt—the broad head of him press against the softest part of her.

She sunk herself low. Until their was no room between them—just skin on precious skin. A joining.

“Just me and you,” she breathed. She was exquisite, the feeling exquisite. It was just them, in each others arms, safe in each others arms. This part of her she’d given to him, was only for him. As this part of him would forever and always belong to her.

Elain planted her hands on his chest and began to move. Slow and steady, keeping him deep. He kept his hands on her hips, feeling her movements, her rhythm. She leaned forward and kissed him, hooking the tops of her feet on his thighs.

He whispered her name. She moved faster. Drawing out their pleasure, taking him to hilt in long, full strokes, her weight balanced where her palms pressed against his bare, tattooed chest.

“I’m here, Az. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice was warm and breathy on the darkness.

She kissed him again, longer, deeper than before—in time with the movements of their bodies. The thin straps of her nightgown slipped from her shoulders, the fabric dangling from the skin just above her nipples. She sat back and pushed it down to free her arms.

“Look at me,” she whispered. He already was. “Feel me, touch me.” She guided one of his hands from her hip and placed it over a breast. He took her in hand, her heart pounded just beneath the skin. He felt her. Caressed her. The soft curves of her body, her small, delicate breasts, the bones of her ribcage, the width of her waist, the thick, generous curve of her backside.

He leaned up and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He swirled and sucked then moved to the other. She cradled his head to her, leaning back to give him access. He found her mouth and they kissed deeply, thoroughly—connected everywhere possible. Then she guided him back to lie down.

There was no other sound but them. No other sound but the joining of their bodies. It was warm and wet and—

“Us,” she moaned, biting his lips. “This is us.”

“Elain—shit. Faster, sunshine. Go faster.”

She did. Her breasts bouncing as she moved on him. Varying the depth of her strokes, how deeply she took him inside her. Gods—he was inside her. His Elain, his sunshine. She was on him, moving on him. Letting him in, pleasing herself with him.

She shuddered and gasped as she, too, got closer. She cupped his face. “Come for me, little bird.”

He came with a deep groan and an upward thrust, with his eyes on Elain and his hand between her legs—stroking her, bringing her to climax right along with him.

~

The next morning, Azriel sat next to Elain on a large balcony at the House of Wind. He held her hand under the table in her lap. They were eating breakfast with Cassian, Nesta and Feyre. Mor and Rhys away in the Night Court.

Azriel surprised himself when he finally broke the silence. “When can we test the dog with Elain?”

The sisters exchanged a look. Then Nesta said, “Soon—now. There’s just one small, teeny tiny issue we’re trying to train out of him.”

Elain frowned. “What’s that?”

~

Elain screamed.

Azriel lunged, grabbing Shadow by the collar and hauling him away.

“Bad dog,” Elain yelled. “Very bad dog.”

“In the grand scheme of things,” Cassian offered, “it could be a lot worse.”

Elain fumed at the male. “Nesta, you better silence your mate if you want him to leave this house in one piece.”

Azriel gave this brother a look: You’re not helping. Cassian: But I’m not wrong.

Azriel bent down and brushed the dirt off the dog. He was large, and mostly white, but he had a few grey patches. He was going to shed though… a lot. “Sunshine, we can put up a fence to keep him out.”

Elain glared at him, then the dog. Nesta said, “No, you can’t. If Elain’s tending the garden, the dog needs to be near her. We’re not sure how proximity works yet. How far away the dog can be before it can’t sense a vision.”

Azriel crouched to the dog. “That wasn’t very nice, Shadow.” Everyone looked at him. He ignored them. “You rip up the roses again and I’ll send a few real shadows your way.”

The dog just whined.

Then whined again.

“Let him go,” Nesta said. He did.

Shadow bolted for Elain… and kept whining. He circled her, his tail low and wagging. He licked her hands. She stared at the dog, then Nesta, then Az. Then back to her sister.

“That’s his tell,” was all Nesta said.

“So now we wait?” Az asked, still staring at Elain. Nesta nodded. Shadow whined and circled Elain. Then laid down next to her. He was clearly anxious.

Minutes passed.

Elain bent down next to the dog. “It’s all right.” She stroked Shadow’s head. “May-maybe I should sit down, too?” She did.

Something in Azriel fractured. He rubbed his chest, took a step toward her—only to be stopped by a firm hand on his upper arm.

He looked over his shoulder at Cassian. His brother merely shook his head. But… Azriel needed to hear it. He needed to calm down, needed to let this work. He couldn’t always be there when it happened. Couldn’t always just rely on himself. This was what the dog did, what Shadow was for. He needed to just calm down and let it—

Elain tipped over backward. And had it not been for Cassian, Azriel would’ve scooped her up and carried her inside.

Nesta did make it to her sister. She jerked forward like she’d meant to catch her, but stopped herself. Instead just hovering. Shadow whined, adjusting himself to nuzzle his snout under one of Elain’s hands. But he didn’t shut his eyes. The damned dog kept those eyes on the three of them. Dipping his head to look at their feet, then their faces.

Cassian must have noticed, too, because he stepped around Az. One step, then two… and he’d barely made the third before Shadow sat up, ears high and pushed forward, a low warning gruff rippling from his throat. Shadow wasn’t fucking around.

“Very good,” Nesta said, smiling as she crossed her arms and turned to see Cassian’s face.

He was frowning. “You taught it to do that, didn’t you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, dear. He’s just very smart. Elain yelled at you. Means she didn’t like you. He’s not going to let you get any closer.”

Cassian eyed his mate like he didn’t believe her.

“What about me,” Azriel said. “Will he attack me?”

Nesta sized him up. “I doubt it. Elain likes you.”

Cassian snorted. They all ignored him.

Azriel took a step forward. Then another and another. Shadow tracked every movement, but did nothing more. When he was level with Nesta, she said, “Easy. He’s not a lapdog. I trained him to protect Elain when she can’t protect herself. He’s half wolf, he’s not some ankle biter begging for treats.”

Azriel said, “The thought of you training dogs for public service terrifies me.”

“Thank you.”

He dared a step closer, past Nesta. Shadow cocked his head. Weighing, measuring—Elain gasped back to the present—and Shadow laid back down as both Azriel and Nesta moved in. He wasted no time helping her sit up. Shadow nuzzled her hand and she smiled, reaching to pet him.

“Are you all right, sunshine? Do you need anything.”

Her smile was blinding as she looked at him and said, “We’re going to have a youngling.”

The dog barked. Azriel blinked. Nesta was rooted to the spot. “When?” Cassian practically screamed. “I can’t wait to be the cool uncle.”

That must have snapped Nesta out of her shock because she snorted. “If you have to declare that you’re the cool uncle, Cassian, you’re clearly not the cool uncle.”

Elain’s hand found Azriel’s cheek. “Az, are you all right?”

He nodded. Then blinked. Then pulled her up to scent her. Nothing—

“Az,” she said. “Not yet. Two years I think. We’ve got time.” She smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Time, he thought. It was a gift, and they had it. With Shadow they had it.

Cassian came over. “Fantastic, gives me a little space before I have to start worrying about Azriel trying to rip out my throat for breathing in your direction wrong. You think he’s a pain now, just wait.”

Azriel took a deep breath, silently begging anyone for patience. He started off toward the house, Elain in his arms. He fully intended on making her all of her favorite foods before tucking her into bed for a nap.

As he walked, a soft jingle caught his attention. He looked down.

Shadow kept pace with him. His head nearly level with Azriel’s hip. “I suppose you can stay.”

And that was that.

[A Seer for the Seer - End (Unless I post the bonus pregnancy HC I have)]

[teacupesque]

I've been isolating a lot lately, like doubly so with the whole pandemic thing and so being a really lonely loser I go over to a friend's house to watch kipo the day it drops cause why not. I only expected like 3 other people to be there sides my partner and I but no, a shit ton of folks show up to play board games instead of watch kipo for whatever reason.

[[MORE]]

This girl, who works with my partner, has a history of ramping up reactions to 11 and blasting it on social media. She also v petty, and likes to talk bad about people in a passive aggressive manner. My partner has been staying home, and was worried about his co-workers being shitty to him when he gets back for staying home during a pandemic. I've been hearing about this concern for like, a solid two weeks.

So I fucked up and griped at this girl that she could take her attitude elsewhere when she made a snide remark about being the only one working. This wasn't true, all of our friends work currently cept for my partner so I snapped at her thinking she was being nasty. She just said what then up and left. I really don't care for her passive aggressive nonsense most times anyway, I just don't say anything.

Like, cool, now she's embarrassed but at least she literally took her attitude elsewhere. I did feel bad for causing her to leave so I tried to apologize via text the next day after a sleep so I'd have a clear head, but emphasis on tried bc apparently I donked up so bad it caused her to have a mental break or something.

She starts calling me names and saying I'm horrible, she took what she said out of context, and we're not friends and like cool, that's alright and expected if a way too aggressive.

I didnt yell at this girl with my comment, just had a rude tone. She started harping how I yelled at her and how I'm terrible. I know I texted bad somehow, I should have put something like I know your probably didn't mean it that way or something but I hardly talk to anyone and didn't know how.

She then texts a very long text about random emotional stuff, like no one cares about her and she has to work with her previous roommate, now abuser, and boo hoo pity her, her life is terrible and my partner was a terrible friend bc he didn't want to take sides. (I don't know the whole story, frankly it isn't my business, there's literally nothing I could do about it, and I wish well for her but I barely know her besides some very awkward previous encounters) it's really, really, long and there's more nonsensical private stuff in it.

It wierds me out that all this came from my one gripey interaction with her. I tell her to see a therapist, this is just about one interaction anymore, leave me alone please and mostly am confused for the next couple of days. I'm STILL confused.

So I do the next dumb thing: I put it on an advice forum to get outside feedback and maybe understand a little better.

People being terrible people empowered by anonymity, start telling me how heartless and stupid I am for even texting this girl or going out during a pandemic at all. One kind person reworked my text to point out how to make it sound less robotic and accusitory, which I super duper appreciate. It makes me want to read about how to write with more emotion and empathy so this never happens again!

But literally everything else is a sea of downvotes for asking any questions, callinh me self centered and dumb, a stupid bitch, petty, what have you. Eh, I deleted the post after a night, and hid it so I wouldn't get any more notifications on it and hopefully that's that. I did take to heart the self centered thing, I really shouldn't have gone out at all. I also need to work on my texting and talking skills to I seem assertive and not aggressive because I obviously need to improve on that.

I am however still upset that this girl starting ripping into me and then dumping on me. Like, hey, I'm going to hit you and then ask you to carry my burdens even though I don't know or care about your well-being. She ended the long text with something like, I'm telling you this because no one asks me how I'm feeling. She didn't ask me for consent or about my feelings before spewing all of that? Like, hypocrite??? I don't know you??? It's manipulation into getting free therapy from someone even remotely friendly to you and I've seen it before. This time the anger was justified at first. But like, people need to stop venting to me. Especially if they don't ask first.

I had to do that for my whole family forever and then random people in college. I don't tolerate it now and I do not care if it makes me seem cold. Ask me first. If a person starts talking at me I say this is making me uncomfortable and I'm not the one you should be talking to about this, how about seeing one of the counselors or something. At least if I post it here, no one has to read the whole thing! It's obvi a vent post! There's a choice! Im still tired and hurt, I shouldn't have to walk on eggshells around everyone. One comment shouldn't cause people to completely unravel. How do I keep attracting these freaks.

ONE comment or interaction shouldn't make a person collapse or be so upset so fast, particularly a mundane response to something. Please go to therapy if that's you. Learn to regulate emotions. Don't go outside, write in a diary or do some coping exercises until that's under control a bit because this happens way too often to me specifically.

Many times in college I'd ask for a pencil, go through a group exercise, or to pass the salt and then get someone's tragic life story. Please stop using random people as free therapists!!!!! Please for the love of goodness!!

[jetbootcollection]

A Hero’s Vacation, Ch.2

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Characters: Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Alya, Nino, OC(s)

Summary: Reuniting with an old friend goes about as wrong as it could.

Tags: Fluff, Self-Indulgent Fluff, Angst, No Romance (for canon characters), Gratuitous use of OCs, Headcanons Abound

Words: 7975

Chapters: 2/?

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

Nino liked hearing Alya talk. She had that perfect level of sass in everything she said and could make anything sound interesting. But this was getting ridiculous. Ever since that foreign hero had arrived in Paris, Alya had been scouring the internet for info on more heroes. And boy, did she find it.

By now Nino knew that there were heroes in Tokyo, Cairo, and Seattle, probably more he didn’t care to remember, along with then names of a dozen such heroes. For three solid days, Alya did nothing but info-dump about some new hero she had found. No one was safe from her overflowing knowledge, having even cornered Chloe into listening.

Marinette, usually the one to reign her in when she got going on about Ladybug, had done nothing to stop her. If anything, she had encouraged Alya to research Eagle and his teammates in the beginning stages. But now she was suffering alongside Nino and the rest of the school.

“The school should just hire her to teach a class. At least then we would have an excuse to not care.” Nino said while leaning back boneless in a library chair. The librarian had kicked Alya out enough times that this had become the official safe zone.

“Be careful what you wish for. I saw her carry a portfolio into the headmaster’s office, so she may have already asked.” Adrien said from across the table, trying to at least look busy reading a book to justify taking up a seat in the crowded library. Looking up to make sure his friend was not going to break his headphones in frustration at the news, he sees Amoux coming towards them.

“Sorry to overhear, but I agree. Alya needs to chill out.” His French was getting better and he was starting to pick up phrases. He sat down in the last remaining chair and began taking out his own work to do.

“Bro, I am so sorry for you. She’s been on you all day. How did you get away?” Nino asked, genuinely curious but trying to be subtle. Alya’s international superhero stint had started with Amoux, so of course she wanted to know more from the only person she knew with firsthand experience.

Amoux smirked as he explained his escape.

“It was not hard once I say ‘I do not know the words to describe him.’ I start talking in English and she lost interest. I was like, ‘Oh Alya you must understand, [Eagle is handsome and courageous like you wouldn’t believe. And huggable! Just look at those feathers and tell me you don’t want a piece of that.]’ She didn’t want to waste time translating, so she moved on.”

The boy seemed quite pleased with himself, making his English sound as close to Alya’s ramblings as possible. Adrien and Nino had caught on to his impression of her and found it hilarious. Not enough to laugh, because that would get them kicked out and put them at risk of another Alya lecture.

“Sounds to me like you have quite a lofty opinion of Eagle.” Marinette turned around in her chair behind Amoux. She too was hiding from Alya and, though she would never admit to it, had found a seat as close to Adrien as possible.

Amoux’s checks took on a pinker shade as he realized the girl had understood what he had said. Good thing he hadn’t said anything too revealing, or he wouldn’t be able to play it off so easily.

“W-Well, I do. He was the best Seattle hero.” He said, trying hard to not panic when he turned around to face her. This school’s English class was rudimentary but well balanced, so she would have the basics down if she paid attention. During his visit to her home he had noticed a pair of framed degrees from a baking school in London, so she might get some of it at home. Just how much English did she know?

Marinette read his face to mean something completely different.

“Don’t worry about it, Amoux. Thinking about your favorite hero that way is completely normal. I’m sure half of Paris would jump at the chance to steal a kiss from Ladybug.” Marinette assured him, her own checks darkening a bit. She only had eyes for Adrien, but her fans could be very passionate and she would be lying if she said she didn’t get anything out of the attention.

“Don’t forget Chat Noir. He’s quite the catch too.” Adrien offered. Compared to Labybug, he had fewer fans that were bold enough to make a pass at him. But when they did, they went all out. Too bad he only had eyes for Ladybug or he would be the most eligible bachelor in town.

“I hear you, dude. I wouldn’t mind a date with the Chat.” Nino said without thinking. The surprised looks from his friends made him quickly amend his statement. This was not how he wanted to come out as bi.

“He’s the coolest dude I know. A friendly date with a guy like that would be dope.” Nino tried not to shy away from it but failed. If the nervous look on Adrien’s face was anything to go by, he had weirded him out.

“E-Excuse me a minute.” Adrien said and he pushed out his chair and marched off to the library bathroom. Nino was decimated. He didn’t have feelings for his best friend. He didn’t want to lose him either.

“Oh man. I didn’t think he would be that much of a ‘phobe.” He said as he flopped onto the table, popping his hat off and nearly cracking his glasses. Marinette wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. Her parents might as well be saints, so she had grown up learning that people who rejected love based solely on gender were toxic and wrong. Adrien deserved the benefit of the doubt, but Nino deserved better than this.

“I do not believe that. Adrien is a very accepting person who respects the feeling of others, no matter what form they take. Him running away was likely because he thought you were expressing interest in him directly. It’s possible he was thinking of the clothing line he modeled recently, called ‘The Chat,’ which was inspired by Chat Noir himself, and made the association. Once he realizes his mistake he will return to apologize, happy that you no longer carry the burden of keeping that side of yourself a secret.” Amoux spoke calmly, almost hypnotically. There had been no pauses of thought. His French was impeccable.

The library was a quiet place by design, but the silence had deepened. Everyone within earshot had been listening in since halfway through the speech. Slowly but surely, they all went back to what they were doing but remained in stunned silence.

Adrien came back from the bathroom not a second later. He raised an eye brow at the sudden silent focus in the room. The librarian must have put her foot down.

“Man, it’s quiet in here.” Adrien whispered as he approached, unaware that he had indirectly caused it.

“Nino, listen. I’m sorry I bailed like that. There was this fashion line I modeled and-“ He didn’t get to finish before Nino got up to give his best friend a bro hug.

“Dude, it’s cool. Amoux explained it.”

“Explained what?” Adrien asked. Amoux had gone back to his book to not pull any more attention to himself. He looked a bit sheepish.

“I do not like doing that in public. But emergency times call for emergency measures.”

Being Eagle for so long meant that some of his powers came through even as a civilian, which meant he saw things that most people could not. It went beyond how people held themselves, eye movements, eating habits, stress responses. With a good memory and long enough observation, he could predict how people would react and know their reasoning.

This time, Amoux could not shake the feeling he had gotten lucky. Something about Adrien just didn’t make sense. There was an invisible wall in his mind pushing him back as he tried to look deeper. Despite his drive to develop his talents and desire to be able to read anyone right down to the core, something, some force, prevented him from wanting to pry into the matter.

Thinking about it, only one other person shared that trait. And she was sitting right behind him.

Sophia sat on a bench in whatever random art gallery Alex had dragged her to. In another life they would both have been artists, but Sophia enjoyed the creation process far more than the presentation. It was an overcast day in Paris with the clouds threatening to rain, so they had planned a day of indoor tourist activities. The two needed to fill time while their kwamis recovered from swimming and sprinting halfway around the world, so here they were.

Alex came back from wherever wing of the gallery she had wandered off to and sat down. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that her partner was on her phone in such a beautiful place.

“[Some pretty neat pieces in here. Makes me wish I had brought my sketch pad.]” Alex said wistfully.

“[It would have gotten warped from being in a backpack for so long. But check this out. The local superteam has a really great blog dedicated to them.]” She handed Alex the phone, which had done a decent job of translating the blog into English. Scrolling, she found an article that piqued her interest.

“[‘Heroes of the World’ huh? We might be featured in that.]”

Sophia leaned in to see. The article had a lot of slang that did not translate well, but was surprisingly well put together and researched for a fan-made article. Each hero had an expertly trimmed photo of them in an action pose at the top of a four-paragraph description of their powers and achievements. Finding her own, she liked what she saw.

“[‘Salmon becomes more powerful in water, making her a gift of god to America’s wettest city.’ I wouldn’t mind replacing my wiki page with this. Mine’s so stuffy and rigid compared to yours.]” Alex whined.

“[That’s the point of a wiki page, babe. Straight to the point and dense as hell.]” She did little gestures to emphasize her point, earning a giggle from her partner.

Alex went back to the main page of the blog and finds Eagle in all the thumbnails for the video posts that week. After watching a few, she hands the phone back to Sophia.

“[He’s been in two fights so far. One before we saw him on the news, and one last night.]”

“[Too bad we couldn’t make it to that one. I really want to see those kids fight in person. That Ladybug girl looks like she’s got a lot of spunk.]”

“[We need to find Eagle soon before we run out of money. Too bad we can’t predict when or where their next fight will be…]” Her voice slowed to a trickle as she realized what she was saying. Alex prayed that Sophia had not gotten the same terrible thought she had. Snapping to face her partner confirmed the presence of The Planning Smirk.

“[No. Nope. Nuh-uh. We are NOT going to stage an attack on Paris just to find Eagle.]” But it was too late. Sophia was already looking into her backpack to check up on her kwami. The Planning Smirk had grown to face-splitting proportions as she started giggling menacingly and hurrying to the exit.

“[Don’t you dare! Our visas don’t cover terrorism! Sophia! Stop! Come back here! SOPHIA!]” Alex shouted with growing worry as she chased her partner out of the gallery and onto the street, drawing concerned looks from the tourists they passed.

Sophia knew it was a bad idea. But she was planning to just knock over some small trees, maybe pop a gate off its hinges, make as small a mess as possible as dramatically as possible. She could hear her partner crying hysterics behind her as she ran. As she rounded a corner looking for a rundown park to vandalize, she caught a momentary glimpse of a black butterfly with purple highlights fluttering past.

“[Oncoor! Surf’s up!]” Out of everything her partner had yelled, this is what stopped Sophia in her tracks. She knew Alex was upset with her for charging into her plan without thinking it through, but surely not enough to transform in the middle of the street just to chase her down.

An inhuman roar of rage, followed by panicked screams, was as clear an answer as she had ever received in her live. Her partner was pissed.

Alex stomped around the corner, eyes engulfed in hot blue fire. Her transformation’s usual silver scales were now a vibrant white with orange patches, both tipped with black. Instead of her trident, she carried a pair of oversized fishhooks with some nasty looking barbs.

“[Salmon? Fishy Cakes? Look, I know you’re mad-]” Sophia took a few steps back.

“I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU! ALWAYS RUNNING AHEAD LIKE NOTHING COULD GO WRONG! LET’S SEE YOU RUN ONCE I GET MY HOOKS INTO YOU!”

“[Salmon? What are you saying!?]” She cried, instinctively turning to run.

“I’M KILLER KOI NOW! AND YOU! ARE! FISH FOOD!”

Sophia broke into a full-on sprint, thankful that her many years holding a Miraculous meant that some of her powers had started leaking into her civilian form. While not superhuman, she could out pace and out last Olympians. Her angry partner was no match for her speed normally, but was now keeping pace with some effort.

“[Help!]”

“This Eutectic Point, circled on the graph on page sixty-seven, is the point at which the mixed liquid phase and both the alpha and beta solid phases have the same energy. If we modulate the concentration of the beta phase, we can force all of the alpha phase into liquid form by keeping the temp-“ Ms. Mendeleiev was interrupted by the sound of a crumbling building in the distance and no less than seven phones getting an akuma alert.

Marinette took a deep breath and began her escape.

“Oh my gosh an akuma this close to the school! I gotta hide!” She screamed with a well-rehearsed look of panic plastered on her face. She didn’t care if her classmates thought she was a coward. With as many close calls she had experienced in her civilian form, she felt more than justified given the circumstances and would defend herself as such.

Alya didn’t even bother making an excuse and ran off. Adrien took advantage of her predictable behavior.

“Alya! You can’t just run off like that.” He said just loud enough that she would not hear as he ran after her. Another collapsing building echoed nearby, which got the rest of the class moving.

Some quick transformations later and Chat Noir was running along the rooftops with Ladybug swinging up from the street below. It didn’t take them long to find the akuma and the woman she was chasing.

“Wow, she can run.” Chat said as Ladybug threw her yoyo to swing down to save the woman. Grabbing her, she recognized the woman as one of the tourists they had helped.

“[I need a place to hide!]” She pleaded.

Ladybug could barely understand her through her distressed tone but swung back up to the rooftops.

“Chat!” Ladybug called to her partner while she pointed to a stairwell door, not wanting to verbally give away her plan. They got to the door at the same time and closed in behind them as softly as they could to not draw the attention of the akuma. The tourist put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“[Do you know why the…um, monster, attacked you?]” Ladybug asked, searching for a word to use for ‘akuma.’

“[She…was mad…that I left her behind.]” She said between panting. Ladybug quickly translated for Chat.

“That seems like a lame reason to get akumatized.” He said with suspicion. This tourist was recovering surprisingly fast from having just set a land speed record, he noticed. Ladybug elected not to translate it back.

“[Alright, I’m ready. Let me just get my work clothes on.]” She said to a confused Ladybug. Surly she had misheard.

“[Itippa! Full steam!]” A brown streak flew from her backpack to her ear and she erupted into light. A second later, the tourist had been replaced with a masked hero much like themselves. She wore a skin-tight suit made of brown velvet, over which she wore a crop top leather jacket and a wide belt that was buckled with a large brass cog. Old fashioned welding goggles sat on her forehead in front of the stubby beginnings of antlers. Attached to her wrists were a pair of brass hooves that could flip down to cover her hands.

“Much better. We need to be careful with this fight. She’s pissed, but she’s still my partner. I’m Moose, by the way.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir stared in shock at how openly another Miraculous holder had just transformed in front of them and seemed to instantly learn their language.

“You kids alright? All I did was…ooooh. Right. Should probably explain that.” The French heroes nodded, wanting to know more.

“I don’t mind transforming in front of you guys. You don’t know my name and only know I’m from America. Go ahead and try guessing my identity. As for how you can understand me, active Miraculous holders can always understand each other. Learned that one on a trip to Mexico City. I’m actually still speaking English.”

She sure was talkative and it was a lot to take in, but they were used to weird things happening around them. When you fight people that use powers ranging from anti-love to pigeons, strange becomes the new normal.

“So that means Eagle doesn’t actually speak French.” Chat concluded.

“No, Eagle was French to begin with. You would think his suit was meant to be all patriotic, but it’s actually the French flag. How is my little fledgling, anyway? He’s why we came to Paris and…and why Salmon got mad at me…” She deflated a bit.

“I wanted to fake an attack to draw out Eagle. Just big enough to raise the alarm, then put everything back when he arrived. I didn’t think Salmon would get mad enough to corrupt her Miraculous.” Moose apologized. She absently rubbed her hands together, clinking her hoof guards occasionally.  

“It was Hawkmoth that did it. He sends out evil butterflies to make people his minions by amplifying their negative emotions. All we have to do is find what object the akuma is hiding in and break it.” Ladybug explained. It felt weird having to explain it after so much time dealing with akumas. But here she was, explaining for the second time this week.

“Do you know of anything that she was holding that would be important to her?” Chat continued where Ladybug had left off.

“The earring on her left ear is fake. I made to match her Miraculous to even out her look so she wouldn’t have to take it off all the time to not look lopsided. It was an anniversary gift, so I’d say that’s pretty important.” Moose said while stepping back out onto the roof, boots clinking as the brass hoofprint on her heels met the surface. Killer Koi was nowhere in sight, but the angry roar being carried on the wind pointed them in the right direction.

Chat Noir’s ears had perked up, interested in the implied relationship.

“Anniversary? Are you two…“ He could not help but ask as he built up momentum to cross to the next roof.

“We’re married, yes. The superhero program is legally a scholarship for a university that doesn’t exist, so we get more money if we’re married. Might as well elope, right? So we did what any pair of dishonest scholarship elopers would do and played along with the pet names, hugs, backrubs, little kisses, stuff like that. A couple months in we realized it was real and we never looked back.” It was clearly a story she liked to tell.

Ladybug could practically hear the wheels spinning in Chat’s head, even over the sound of her yoyo chord. She knew full well that he was going to redouble his flirting now that he had evidence of partners-in-justice becoming more.

Chat Noir, to his credit, did not immediately launch into a flurry of pickup lines.

Amoux had a hard time finding a place to transform. His classmates had so much more experience finding the nooks and crannies in the school building that he gave up and found an alley way instead. Scanning for any open doors or windows, he opened his bag to poke at a snoring ball of feathers.

“[Avees, wake up.]”

“[Hero time? Bit early. Sun’s still up.]” Avees stretched with a tiny yawn.

“[New city, new hours. Now get it in gear and let’s go.]” With that little pep talk, the tiny eagle lazily floated out of his bag on outstretched wings. One more yawn and Avees nodded that he was ready.

“[Avees! Wings up!]” He whisper-yelled, lifting his arms as if taking his own command. The kwami became a black streak as it shot towards his collar.

Unlike any other hero he had met, Amoux had found his Miraculous at a young age. He and Avees were coming up on their tenth year together. The kwami had explained to him that transformations become more and more complete over time, with total transformation into an eagle taking a lifetime to happen. Changes in form happened in stages, and he was on the third stage. While each stage became more powerful, most Miraculous holders freaked out and/or retired before they got too far. Learning how to shoot his bow using heavily modified feet had been tricky but worth it for the magical accuracy that came with it.

As Amoux became Eagle, his arms melted away to become wings. He flapped to get off the ground before his feet became talons. Not long after, he knees bent backwards. The familiar sensation of feathers growing all over his body was accompanied by the sudden weight of a quiver on his hip. Taking a moment to adjust to his altered anatomy, he hears the telltale sounds of destruction becoming more distant.

Eagle gives an almighty flap of his wings to shoot out of the alley way and into the air. He surveyes the damage done by the latest akuma victim, flying wide circles over the destruction. Following the warpath carved through Paris, he quickly finds a university aged woman wearing a competition swimsuit with white fish scales running a quarter of the length of each limb. The glint off the sharp point of one of her fishhooks nearly blinds his sensitive eyes.

Remembering the unfortunate habit of his old teammate’s trident doing the same thing gave him a rattling thought.

“I guess all super powered fish like to make my eyes sizzle.” He said to himself with closed eyes, dreading the idea of having to fight someone with Salmon’s powers. His quiver vibrated to signify an incoming call, saving him from the terrible thought. But wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous belonged to a completely different set. How could they be calling him?

Kicking the bottom of the quiver to accept the call, a screen extended on a telescoping rod to give him a better angle on it.

“Hey, Eagle. Long time no see.” Moose said through the phone, the background of the video call a rapidly bobbing horizon. Her voice was bright but her nervousness was palpable. Eagle flinched hard enough to send himself into a tailspin.

“What are you doing here?! Whose covering Seattle?”

“Earthquakes don’t happen every day, you know. We can go on vacation without the city falling into the sea…again.” The gasp behind Moose told him that she at least had Ladybug with her. But there was no ‘the second time wasn’t my fault’ in the background. Salmon took every opportunity to defend her honor whenever the Great Floods came up in conversation.

“…Moose, where’s Salmon?” He squinted at the screen. Not to read her face, but to convey his suspicion.

“About that…You got eyes on the fish monster thing?”

Eagle turned to confirm he had not lost his target. He did not like where this conversation was going.

“That’s Salmon.”

Moose closed the phone built into her hoof guards to the sound of a continues string of colorful curses. She knew that Eagle was going to give her a stern lecture once this all blew over.

“You get the location from him?” Chat asked.

“No, but I can practically hear him splitting quills from here. Hang a right.” She kicked off a chimney to make the turn, knocking off a layer of loose mortar.

“We need to keep her out of the river. Call the police and have them set up a two-block perimeter along the north bank. I’d do it myself, but they would probably prefer a hero they know speaking actual French.”  Moose continued. Ladybug rolls her eyes as she pulls up the one cop on her contacts list she was on a first name basis with. So much for the ground rules.

“Officer Roger, it’s Ladybug. I need a huge favor…” She didn’t seem confident it would happen.

“Local police that bad, huh?” Moose asked Chat.

“It’s more like we don’t have the authority. The police set up barricades how they want, usually to protect landmarks.”

“Europe is weird.” That was all Moose had to say about that.

“I know, right? Ladybug can fix anything once the fight is over, so I don’t see why they bother.”

“I take it back. Europe is awesome!” She had been wondering how Paris repaired things so fast.  

A few rooftops later, Ladybug had finished her call. It was only then she realized how far ahead she was. Moose was dragging behind, with Chat keeping her pace to be a gentleman.

“Something wrong? I get it if you don’t want to fight your wife, but we need to get going.” She could see Eagle circling in the distance. The akuma must have traveled halfway across Paris by now.

“She needs me. You couldn’t keep me out of this fight if you tried. I’m just not used to these super even rooftops. I usually use the kickplates mounted on the sides of skyscrapers to get around. Or run on the street in the bus lane. Whichever’s faster.” Moose hid her jealousy of the tools at the French heroes’ disposal. All she could so was punch, kick, and headbutt things real hard. Great for sending stuff into orbit, not so great for getting around town.

“Well, isn’t this interesting. I’ve never had the pleasure of bringing a Miraculous holder under my wing.” Hawkmoth said to Killer Koi through the pink laser mask that appeared in front of her face. It had taken far too long to establish a link with his newest minion.

“Shut up, old man. I’m not here to go your dirty work for you.”

He pecked through her surface memories, looking for something to use. Alone in his lair, he grimaced when he found that she was gay. Hawkmoth chose his words carefully.

“It seems you’ve had a bit of a lover’s quarrel. She will surely have enlisted Ladybug and Chat Noir to her side by now. You will need to disable them by removing their Miraculous if you want to level the playing field.” He offered as advise, exerting as much of his control through the link as he could without resorting to inflicting pain. Miraculous holders were resistant and strong willed, it seemed, and could not be outright commanded to do his bidding.

“…Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” The laser mask faded as she went back to raining havoc upon the city.

She had lost sight of Sophia ages ago. That girl could be anywhere by now with that super speed she liked to brag about so much. Might as well keep destroying stuff to draw her out. She was about to leap up to smash an out of place red windmill when the cavalry arrived.

“If you wanted to see the Moulin Rouge that badly, all you had to do is ask.” Moose flirted as she did a perfect three point landing across the street. Despite the serious atmosphere, Ladybug couldn’t help but groan. Chat was taking mental notes, she just knew it.

“Just you and two shoobies? You really think you can stop me?!” Killer Koi challenged as she threw a fishhook at Moose. Thinking fast, Moose flicked her hoof guards into place and punched the hook. The hook was heavier than she thought it would be, stopping dead with a deafening metallic clang instead of being rebounded. And the force behind it just kept coming.

Maintaining the punch meant she was vulnerable to the leaping overhead smash coming down on her. She would have taken the hit had Chat Noir not extended his staff to knock Killer Koi out of the air.

Furious at the interference, she threw her other hook into a vicious spin along the ground to swipe Chat’s feet. The terrible sound of metal scraping pavement shot through his sensitive ears that were already ringing from the sound of the first hook, paralyzing him. Ladybug tackled him out of the way, landing on top of him in an all too familiar position.

“Oh, My Lady, how the tables have turned.” He said more out of habit than flirting. Seeing the spinning hook boomeranging back at them, he flipped Ladybug over his head to swap their positions to dodge.

“That’s better.” This cat never knew when to stop.

Ladybug heard Moose say something about how smooth he was under her breath as she sidestepped out of fending off the hook, sending it careening into a storefront before returning to its master. Pushing Chat off of her by his chin, Ladybug stood up to assess their strategy. There was no reason to drag out this fight.

Killer Koi wound up another attack but her balance was thrown off by two arrows clinking against her hooks. Up above, Eagle nocked another arrow but was hesitant to fire again.

“It’s unlike you to hold your shots.” Moose called up to him.

“Let’s see you shoot at a friend.” He answered in frustration, making Moose flinch.

Ladybug could tell that the longer the fight went on the more emotional damage would be done. This needed to end now, for the sake of their friendship.

“Lucky Charm!” Throwing her yoyo into the air to summon a helpful tool, she was caught off guard when a simple plank of red and black spotted wood appeared about her. Catching it as it fell into her arms she nearly dropped the cooked fillet of fish on top of it. It smelled heavenly.

Moose recognized the fillet for what it was. Depending on how badly her partner had been corrupted, it would either serve as the perfect bait or enrage her into a blind charge. Either way, it would make for the perfect trap. Stepping over to Ladybug, she took the fillet before the younger girl could find a way to use it.

“I’m gonna lead her into a trap with this. Be ready to hold her.” Before the French heroes could react, she was already down half way down the street. At least this time she had a plan.

“Honey! Look at this delicious grilled salmon I’ve got! I’m gonna eat it. All. By. My. Self.” She held the plank above her head as she taunted Killer Koi with it.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!” The flames burning from her eyes went from blue to white, doubling in size. Embedding her hooks in the pavement, she charged.

Moose nodded back to the younger heroes, who had taken up positions to grab the akuma. She ran back to them, fillet held high, in a wide arc to keep Killer Koi from seeing the trap until it was ready to be sprung. Depositing the plank on the ground between Ladybug and Chat Noir, Moose jumped high so she would land behind her partner.

Killer Koi ungracefully dove to grab the fish, clamoring to her knees to begin eating like a starved animal. Chat grabbed an elbow and Ladybug followed suit.

“Hey! I was eating that! It’s mine!” She struggled against them but the held firm. Realizing she had no safe way of breaking the earring without giving her partner a super powered love tap to the side of the head, Moose went with the only alternative she could think of. Grabbing Killer Koi’s head from behind, she twisted to present the left ear to the sky.

“Eagle! The earring!”

“I can’t do that! It’ll take her whole ear off!” His arrows were larger than the target. Collateral damage was inevitable.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” It was taking all her might to hold her partner still.

Eagle steeled himself for what he had to do.

“Eagle Eye!” Activating his ability, the arrow nocked on his bow glowed as he drew the string.

Chat blinked. Something warm splattered on his gloved hand. An arrow was sunk into the street up to the fletching, a black butterfly fluttering out of the small crater. The woman he was restraining went limp as dark purple smoke rolled over her.

Ladybug made quick work of purifying the akuma.

“Pssh ow ow ow ow ow.” Alex held the icepack to her ear. She had fainted after the fight and was only now waking up after several hours. Her memory of her time as Killer Koi was foggy, but she remembered enough.

“[That’s it, I’m going to a different salon for piercings.]” She joked as she sat up in the bed she had been deposited in. Sophia was napping with her head in her lap, curled up to where her body had been.

Looking around she saw a sizable and well-furnished room, much fancier than the hotel they had been staying at. The seal of the United States Embassy hung on the wall above the dresser opposite the bed. A set of passports and visas sat on the night stand next to nearly empty bowls of almonds and chocolate.

“[Morning, beautiful.]” A sleepy Sophia said from her lap. She would have leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead if a small gray mermaid had not flown into her face.

“[Girl, don’t scare me like that! You got hurt so bad that I-I…]” Oncoor burst into theatrical tears. Alex pet the mermaid with her free hand.

“[Whole ear’s still here. See? It just stings.]” She pulled away the ice pack momentarily, feeling her cold ear to make sure she wasn’t lying. It was painful, but intact.

“[You can thank Ladybug for that. They should be back to meet us in the lobby soon.]” Sophia said while checking the time.

“[Back from where?]” Alex wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she thought at least one of the French heroes would have stayed.

“[Turns out all three of them still go to school. I’m starting to wonder how old Eagle is.]”

Sophia stretched and wiggled her way to the edge of the bed to stand up.

“[We need to suit up. Ambassador Zeya wanted to talk to you.]”

Two transformations and an escort to the ambassador’s office later, they were informed that they were not in any legal trouble. Zeya made it clear that Salmon was the victim. Once that was settled, they were taken to the lobby to wait for the other heroes to arrive. No less than four guards joined them.

“[Are the bodyguards necessary? I’m pretty sure we can defend ourselves if need be.” Salmon wondered aloud as she sat down.

“[No offence, Agent Salmon, but you just leveled a quarter of Paris. The citizens of this city are quick to forgive, but they’ll need time to feel safe again. You will be under observation for the time being.]” Said the shorter and burlier guard. Salmon wanted to sink through the floor.

“So this is what you look like.” Chat Noir said as he and Ladybug carried Eagle in through the front door and sat him down in a chair, resting his legs on the table. Eagle was used to such treatment, having attended press conferences at indoor venues. Being carried was more dignified than being pushed around on a cart, at least.

“How’s the ear?” Eagle asked once he was situated.

“Stings real bad, but getting better. From what I remember it was not an easy shot. Good to see that you’re not getting rusty in your retirement.” She readjusted her swim cap to stop it from pressuring her ear.

“And you, Little Miss Polka-Dot, deserve a hug for fixing it.” Salmon lifted a startled Ladybug as she stood, spinning the girl around before losing her footing and tumbling over. Her balance was still recovering.

The heroes talked well into the night, sharing stories of daring-do. After a competitive game of ‘My Supervillain Could Beat Up Your Supervillain’ the guards stepped in to ask them to head home.

“Right. I’ve still got an essay to finish. How long will you be in town?” Ladybug asked, getting ready to carry Eagle outside.

“At least a day or two. Need to do some community service to recover Salmon’s PR.” Moose said. They hadn’t checked the news yet but it would take a major, earthshattering headline to overshadow Salmon’s brief conversion to the dark side.

They said their goodbyes before being escorted back to their room by a very confused looking pair of guards.

Agent Dunn had seen more than his fair share of strange occurrences in his time at the embassy. Paris had become rife with oddities in recent years, not to mention the bizarre customs of foreign dignitaries that he was assigned to protect.

This night had been particularly strange. It was unprofessional to do so, but he needed someone to talk about it with.

Once his shift was over, he pulled one of the other guards that had shared his assignment aside. Agent Duncan seemed to share his desire to discuss the matter. They talked in hushed whispers as they made their way home.

“[I never thought I would see the day when keeping tabs on five teenagers in furry getup would be official business.]”

“[No kidding. And what were they speaking, anyway? Sounded like French but it was all English words.]”

“[It sounded like English with French words to me.]”

“[They must have some techo-magic-whatever doing it. Except for that Eagle guy. He stuck with one language at a time.]”

“[But did you see his knees? I get that bird knees are backwards but that has got to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen.]”

They continued on like that all the way to the Metro station.

Marinette was late to class the next morning. Not by much, but enough to get a sideways glance from Miss Bustier. They had come to an informal agreement to let it slide if the lecture had not started yet, allowing for about forty seconds of grace period once the bell rang. Unlike most students with truancy issues, Marinette actually tried to be on time.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, please pass your Voltaire essays to the front.”

Mainette’s throat went dry. The essay was on her desk at home, forgotten in her scramble to make it on time. Miss Bustier read her like a book and sighed.

“Marinette, we can’t keep doing this. If it’s not on my desk by the end of the lunch break, you will have failed the assignment.”

She felt small, wanting nothing more than for the lesson to begin so her classmates were not focused on her failure to remember things. Chloe had other ideas and pounced.

“You might as well give up now, Marinette. No fashion designer would ever hire someone as flaky and incompetent as you.”

She knew that she shouldn’t let Chloe get to her. But those words hurt. It took everything she had to keep herself from crying. Alya rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder but it didn’t help.

The sound of wood scraping tile behind her startled her from the downward spiral she was feeling.

“Adrien. I need your desk.” Amoux commanded as he stomped down the steps. He had watched these girls for some time now, wanting them to sort it out for themselves. But he’d had enough. Adrien had just managed to pull his note pad to the side before he hopped up to sit on the desk, facing Chloe so he was looking down at her.

Amoux closed his eyes and looked upward as he took a long breath. Snapping down to look Chloe right in the face, he opened his eyes and began to read every aspect to Chloe’s being.

It was the most piercing gaze Miss Bustier had ever seen. She knew she should take control of the situation, but a small part of her wanted to see what was about to happen. Rumors of his skill had reached the teacher’s lounge. He was said to work wonders.

Chloe froze, unable to break away from him once he had locked eye. The anticipating silence in the room had become electric, as if lightning could strike any moment. When Amoux spoke, his voice flowed like warm water, washing over everyone listening.

“Why do you do this? What joy do you derive from the despair of others? Has it truly been so long since you have felt loved that this has become your only source of happiness?” His voice was even, calm, and slow, without a hint of the anger that had initiated this forced therapy session.

“I-I don’t know what you mean. Daddy l-l-loves me.” Chloe stammered. Her face ran through a sea of emotions, betraying her racing thoughts. She could feel his eyes bore through her mind. The more she resisted, the more was brought to bear as she tried not to think of certain memories.

“You used to be such a sweet little girl. You lived with your loving mother in a small apartment away from your father, having been too young to remember the divorce. She was your guiding light. If not for her death, she would have become a shining beacon of hope for all of Paris. You were sent to live with your father, who knew nothing of raising children. He showered you with gifts but could do nothing to ease your pain.”

Marinette could feel her dark emotions flow out of her. It was as if Amoux’s voice had washed a thick layer of mud off her bones and poured it back into Chloe.

“Months passed. You constructed a mask of money to hide the pain you felt, buying your way out of your problems as your father did. Any friendships you had were twisted into relationships of abuse. You watched yourself become a wretched person and could do nothing to stop it. In time, you came to believe the mask was the true Chloe.”

Chloe faltered under the weight of the critique, a single choked sob escaping her throat. Yet she could not look away, as if held in place by an invisible hand.

For a brief moment, Amoux considered stopping there, leaving Chloe to fend for herself in the bottomless pit of emotions he had hurled her into. But he could see the gentle soul within her, buried under a decade of guilt and loneliness.

“You had nearly forgotten what kindness was until a hero appeared. Ladybug reminded you that it was possible, even pleasant, to give yourself freely to others. Memories of your mother came flooding back to you, taking you back to a time before the money had made you cruel. For the first time in years, the mask slipped. You saw what you had become and hated yourself for it. Not knowing what to do, you put the mask back on and tried to forget. But it kept slipping. Just last night, you cried yourself to sleep from the regret of what you had done.”

Chloe did not know when she started crying, but her tears had washed away the makeup that hid the dark circles under her eyes caused by a restless night.

“You want to be a better person, someone you mother could be proud of. That is why you focus so heavily on Marinette, hoping to learn from her example. You see so much of your mother’s kindness in her that it hurts. Nothing would make you happier than to be her friend. But the mask is not easy to remove. On days you manage to show your true face, you can’t bring yourself to even look at her. You remember how you have tormented her and put the mask back on to save yourself from being crushed by the regret.”

Marinette could feel her heart explode with sympathy. She didn’t know how she was going to forgive Chloe for the last four years, but she was willing to try.

Amoux released his gaze and his hold on Chloe, who fell out of her seat into the aisle. By the time she hits the floor she is bawling. After a few seconds of trying, the first thing she did once she got a leg under her was to throw herself up the steps to Marinette’s bench. Chloe looked up at the girl with wet eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette. I just wanted what you had. That selfless kindness…it was too beautiful to watch.” It was the most genuine thing Marinette had ever heard her say. Seeing Chloe humble herself like that made her heart explode a second time. She slid down to the end of the bench and lifted Chloe into a tentative embrace, letting her cry.

“You have a long way to go before you become the person you want to be. Marinette can show you the way, but only you have the power to change yourself for the better.” Amoux concluded as he walked around the girls to return to his desk. Sabrina made her way over to comfort Chloe, hugging her around her midsection.

Miss Bustier could not believe what she had witnessed. In the span of seven minutes, Chloe had gone from a textbook example of a bully to a sobbing apologetic mess. In the years she had taught this class she had been powerless to do anything about the mayor’s daughter in fear of losing her job, or worse, getting the school shut down. But here was this boy, breaking her down and building her back up with a gentle ferocity.

“…Right, the lesson. Um…Never mind. Please read the next chapter for your homework tonight. Class dismissed.” Amoux was a tough act to follow.

It took a moment for the class to realize that they could leave. It took a moment longer for them to decide if they wanted to leave. Miss Bustier had to motion to the door to get them going. Once most of the students had shuffled out, she got to work dealing with the aftermath.

“Amoux, Chloe. You should come with me to the headmaster’s office. You can come if you want, Marinette. And Alya, I would like you to delete the video you just recorded. I don’t even know if you did or not, just delete it.”

Alya gave no protest as she ended the livestream and deleted the recording.

  Author’s notes:

-So, Alex and Sophia are kinda based on my friends whom I ship IRL. (Don’t worry, they were thrilled when I clued them in about being superheroes. Jury’s still out on the shipping)

-I make no claim of understanding for how embassies work. Like a hotel with more security?

-It felt incredibly good to destroy Chloe like that.

-Chapter 3 is a definite MAYBE. posted.

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