#I HAD TO WRITE IT

[itsjaywalkers]

offering u some jegulus pirates of the caribbean au (except not exactly but u do get one of the scenes from the first movie) || 3677 words || no cws apart from james being a menace and regulus praying for his downfall (while also being lowkey attracted to him very much against his will)

“But he saved my life!” Regulus insists, starting to feel a little desperate, eyes jumping from his father, to Commodore Lucius, to the stranger who had jumped into the sea to stop him from drowning. 

“Yes, Regulus, we heard you the first time,” his father sighs, barely hiding the roll of his eyes. It’s enough to make some heat flood into Regulus’ cheeks, and he has to repress the urge to pout, or even worse, stomp his foot. “But, son, come on. Look at the state of him. You’d have to be incredibly naive to not realise he isn’t a good man.” 

“I resent that,”  the stranger pipes in, grabbing everyone’s attention. Not like the soldiers’ has been anywhere else since they stormed in. “Why, Governor, appearances can be deceiving.” 

Regulus cringes slightly, and it’s not because of his wet clothes, or the cold already seeping into his bones, despite having his father’s, Orion, coat over his shoulders. Or, well, not entirely because of that. 

The scold twisting his father’s harsh features is enough to make him want to curl into himself, or at the very least, take a step back. Regulus has been the target of that specific expression more times than he can count, even though he always does his best to remain out of the spotlight. Always seen, but never heard. That’s how his parents prefer him. The only way they can somehow tolerate him. 

He’s not his brother, after all, as everyone seems so set on reminding him. Sirius might be brash, and insolent, and sometimes border on rebellious, but he’s the perfect leader. Loved and respected by all. Everyone adores him, even their parents, despite barely being capable of it, and Regulus can’t say he blames them.

Maybe that’s why he’s speaking up now, trying to do the right thing for once, even though every part of him fought against the mere idea. Regulus thinks Sirius will be proud of him, as soon as he returns from his trip and Regulus tells him all about it.

He can’t help but wish he was here with him. Everything feels less scary when his older brother is at his side. 

Before his father has the chance to open his mouth, possibly to obliterate the kind stranger that risked his life to save Regulus’, Lucius steps forward, a blonde, nearly white eyebrow arched at the unknown man. 

“Deceiving, you say?” he repeats in a drawl, nose turned up in what can only be disgust. Really, Regulus can’t understand what his cousin sees in him. “I suppose we should at least give you the benefit of the doubt.” Lucius gives him a tight-lipped smile. “I believe thanks are in order, then.”

Lucius extends one arm, if a bit begrudgingly, offering his hand to the stranger. Regulus’ eyes widen a little at the gesture, and he can feel his father glaring at Lucius’ back with such ferocity it almost makes him shiver. 

Regulus can’t say he blames him. Lucius isn’t disobeying direct orders, mostly because Orion hasn’t said anything concrete, but it comes way too close for comfort. 

The stranger eyes the hand with clear wariness, but he still grins and nods a little, before reaching out to give Lucius’ hand a firm shake. 

They’ve barely made contact with each other when Lucius grips the stranger harshly, pulling him closer and raising the sleeve of his undershirt up, revealing a branded ‘P’ on his forearm. Regulus can’t quite repress the tiny gasp that escapes his lips.

Lucius’ smile becomes wider, sharper, as he watches the suddenly sheepish stranger with no little amount of satisfaction. “Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?

Regulus grimaces at the word almost at the same time as the stranger winces. He didn’t give it too much thought at first, because he had swallowed a lot of water, and had been too busy coughing it all out to properly notice, but he supposes the man’s attire kind of gives him away. 

He wears a red bandanna around his forehead, keeping messy black curls off his face, and many strands of his hair seem to be adorned with beads and colourful trinkets. His hazel eyes seem to possess a mischievous glint in them, and Regulus thinks that, under different circumstances, he might’ve found it charming, considering it sort of reminds him of Sirius. He also sports a short, but definitely unkempt beard all around his mouth. 

He takes a peek at his father’s face, and it doesn’t startle Regulus, discovering him looking so smug. 

His words aren’t unexpected, either, but they still fill him with dread.

“Hang him,” Orion orders swiftly, almost bored, and the stranger clicks his tongue, more inconvenienced than scared. 

Lucius lets out a low chuckle. “Keep your guns on him,” he tells his men, without even bothering to check if they’ll listen. They always do, anyway. “And someone fetch me some irons!”

He raises the sleeve a little higher, and Regulus manages to catch sight of ink on brown skin, something that he’s sure resembles a bird, before Lucius is pulling down the cotton once more. 

“James Potter, is it?” he questions blandly, nose wrinkling in distaste. 

“Captain James Potter,” the pirate corrects a bit sharply, lips stretching into another one of those charming smiles. “Sir,” he adds forcibly, almost as an afterthought. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t see a ship, captain.” Lucius makes a show of looking around, some of his men laughing under their breaths. 

The pirate’s, James’, smile never falters. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it don’t exist.” 

Lucius gives him an incredibly flat stare, but James doesn’t wilt under it, doesn’t even react, really, and instead continues to hold the Commodore’s gaze. 

“Quite sad that I can’t even tell if you’re lying to me or just yourself.” Lucius shakes his head softly. 

James opens his mouth, presumably about to retort, when a sudden uproar between the soldiers draws his attention. Even Regulus’ fathers turns around, seeking the origin of all the fuss, and finally putting some distance between him and Regulus. 

“Commodore!” One of Lucius’ men exclaims, everyone around him making way for him hastily. “I found—I found the pirate’s things!” 

Lucius doesn’t take his eyes off James, not even for a single second, but he raises both eyebrows, clearly pleased by this information. When the soldier finally reaches them, Lucius doesn’t waste a single moment and begins to search through the pirate’s belongings, taking some pleasure in the way James’ expression twitches at the action. 

Regulus’ body leans forward almost unconsciously, and he feels a bit embarrassed by how curious he is about this whole scene. If his father weren’t so distracted, he would’ve scolded him by now. 

“A gun with no additional shots,” Lucius murmurs dryly, eyes fleeting from the weapon on the soldier’s arms to James. “A rusty sword and a hat. What a pathetic excuse of a pirate.”

James raises a hand, and the men flanking him go tense all over, squinting their eyes at him. 

“And yet you have heard of me,” he points out with an easy smile, which, well, it’s not untrue. 

Lucius levels him with an unimpressed glare, while James continues grinning widely. Regulus is as stiff as most of Lucius’ men, unsure of what’s gonna happen next, of how long they’re gonna keep throwing jabs at each other until either of them snaps.

Apparently, Lucius has already had enough, because he grabs James by the wrist once again, even more forcibly than before, and starts dragging him away. His men part to let him pass like it’s second-nature, and Regulus can see Lucius is headed to the other side of the crowd, where one of the soldiers is holding some irons. 

Regulus moves before he has the chance to think about it. 

He runs after Lucius and James, ignoring the startled looks all the men give him, and pretending he doesn’t hear his father call his name in outrage, or the noise of his steps as he follows a moment later. 

The heavy coat falls from his shoulders at some point during his little race, and he can only hope that either his father or one of the soldiers manages to take a hold of it before it touches the floor. The punishment for dirtying one of Orion’s coats might not be the worst his father has done to him, but it won’t be fun regardless.

Regulus has never been as athletic, or as strong, as his brother, but he’s fast and nimble, so he manages to slip in between Lucius and the man holding the irons, halting the advance. Lucius stops, James almost crashing into his back and sending them both tumbling.

“Regulus—” he starts, careful but with an edge in his tone.

“Pirate or not, this man saved my life,” Regulus cuts him off, panting a little but making sure to raise his chin proudly, like his mother has always taught him. 

Lucius blinks at him, before exhaling loudly through his nose. He pulls James from behind him, and with a firm move of his head, the man with the irons rushes from behind Regulus, getting ahold of James quickly and binding his wrists together. Regulus watches for a second before whipping his head around and narrowing his eyes at Lucius. 

“Regulus,” the Commodore tries once more, infusing his voice with something that’s too curt to be considered patient. “I admire your kindness. I truly do. But one good deed is not enough to redeem someone of an entire lifetime of wickedness, and I can assure you, this man does not deserve your mercy.”

Regulus bites his lower lip, eyes pleading at Lucius’ impassive face. “But—”

“You foolish, insolent, little—” his father hisses, fingers curling around his forearm and gripping harshly. 

Orion begins to pull, attempting to get him away from both Lucius and James, and probably drag him back to the house so he can scold him properly. Maybe even punish him. 

Regulus resists, planting his feet firmly on the ground even as his father’s gaze turns furious. He hears Lucius let out an irritated huff at the display, but it doesn’t last long, because one moment Regulus is struggling against his father’s ruthless grip, and the next one there’s a heavy chain around his neck, and a warm, hard body pressed against his back.  

Someone gasps. Or perhaps everyone does. They lean forward, automatically reaching for Regulus, because most of these soldiers have known him and his family for years. They’ve been trained to protect him, to keep him safe. 

Even his father is staring at him in what can only be terror, eyes wide and lips parted, hands twitching with the need to grab him, push him away from who’s holding him captive. 

Regulus inhales shakily. Breathing is a bit difficult, with the chain digging into his neck, but he can manage. He’s staring back at Lucius, at his father, at every single man who’s surrounding him and watching him with anxious eyes. The horror he can see in their faces isn’t helping Regulus to keep calm.

The soldier standing closest to Lucius reaches for his weapon, the noise he makes being the first sound to break the sudden silence. 

“Don’t shoot!” Lucius snarls, taking a step forward and raising a stiff arm. However, the movement leads to James using his irons to choke Regulus further, and Lucius freezes up as soon as Regulus lets out a grunt. 

“Never expected such a posh little boy to be so keen on defending my honour,” James whispers into his ear, loosening his hold but just barely. “But I’m grateful.”

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line, a spark of irritation lighting up inside his belly. It’s not enough to erase his fear, but it helps to distract him a little. 

Of course the one time he finally decides to speak up and do some good, this happens.

“And you, Commodore,” James goes on, raising his voice and infusing it with cheer. “I knew you’d warm up to me.”

Lucius clenches his jaw, hands curling into fists at his sides, but he keeps still and doesn’t dare breathe a single word. 

“Now, if you’d be so kind, I’d love to have my effects back. Please.”

It takes a beat, men glancing at each other a bit unsurely, but when James urges Lucius again with a “Commodore!”, the warning clear in his tone, he finally moves. Lucius turns around and grabs James’ belongings quite aggressively, pointedly ignoring the way James huffs. 

Regulus doesn’t even get a moment to relax, because as he watches Lucius moving towards them, arms filled with James’ effects, a warm breath hits him on the side of the neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Do you have a name, darlin’?” James asks quietly, lips grazing the lobe of his ear with every word. 

A wave of heat rushes through Regulus, and he isn’t sure if he’s more angry or embarrassed at his body’s reaction. 

“Regulus,” he responds through gritted teeth. “Regulus Black.”

“Regulus,” James repeats in a drawl, and Regulus can feel his smile against his skin. He tries to tilt his head to the side, get some space, but there’s no use. The pirate won’t let him go anywhere until he gets what he wants. “Well, then. If you’d be so kind, Regulus.”

He can’t help but frown a little, attempting to look back and find some answers, when Lucius steps right in front of him. He’s giving him James’ belongings before he can even blink, and they’re all very lucky Regulus has such good reflexes. 

The moment all the weapons and the belt and the stupid hat are all in his arms, James pulls on the irons and forces him to turn around until they’re facing each other. He has both hands bound and around the back of Regulus’ neck, and they’re standing so close they’re basically breathing into each other’s mouths. The realisation makes Regulus’ heart stutter and his stomach twist uncomfortably, so he tries to move away. Unfortunately, there’s nowhere for him to go, and it only ends with James smirking smugly at him, before nodding pointedly at his things.

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line and narrows his eyes at the pirate, quite satisfied at the fact that they’re basically the same height and he can’t look down on him. Not like he needs to, considering the expression he’s sporting.

Oh, he absolutely hates this. He hates that he risked everything to defend a bloody pirate. He hates that he’s being threatened and held hostage and humiliated. He hates that this is only gonna make him look weaker than he already does. He hates that Sirius isn’t here. And more than anything, he hates James Potter.

Taking a deep breath, Regulus gets to work. He starts with the weapons, uncomfortable with how they feel in his hands, how heavy and how cold. He itches to get rid of them. 

“Make sure to be nice, yeah, darlin’?” James whispers the moment Regulus begins to fasten the belt holding the sword around his waist. 

Regulus wants nothing more than to curse him out, but he settles with wrapping the damn thing extra tight, eyes never leaving James’ and watching as he winces momentarily, before giving Regulus a lazy smile. 

“Careful,” James warns, but it’s teasing. Mocking. “You don’t wanna damage the goods.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes before he grabs the gun and what looks like a sash. He attaches the gun to the belt and then puts the sash over James’ shoulder, noticing that he can’t tie it properly on his current position. Biting the inside of his cheek but refusing to show anything on his face, he presses their chests together and his hands travel to James’ back. 

Regulus focuses on the task at hand, but it proves to be harder than expected, with the way James chooses to return the embrace to the best of his abilities. As if Regulus is doing this willingly, or something. 

James leans into him, until his cheek is touching Regulus’, nose digging into his curls and nuzzling there like they’re—like they’re actually—

Regulus finishes the knot alarmingly fast, his whole face burning, especially when he remembers his father is bearing witness to this whole scene. 

Fortunately, there’s only one thing left and it’s that ridiculous hat, so he puts it hastily on James’ head, more than ready to get this torture done and over with. But as soon as it sits on dark curls, Regulus notices it’s crooked, and he’s reaching out once again a second later, righting the damn thing until it’s good, until James looks every bit the pirate that he is. 

The smile he receives in return almost blinds him, and Regulus is averting his gaze even before James turns him back around. 

The disgust on his father’s face isn’t surprising, but it still stings. Although, not as much as the disappointment does. 

“Good job, love,” James murmurs, just for him, and Regulus makes an active effort to not visibly react. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Regulus cocks his head back just enough for their eyes to meet. “You’re despicable,” he spits, hands trembling with barely contained rage. 

“So much hatred coming from such a pretty mouth.” James clicks his tongue, but his grin widens. “I saved your life, you saved mine. Now we’re square, yeah?”

He opens his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, when James lowers the irons around Regulus’ neck enough to grab his gun and then press the barrel of it against Regulus’ temple. 

His blood runs cold and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a spark of something inside his gut, and then goosebumps break everywhere on his skin, heat rushing to every point of contact between him and James. 

Regulus knows he’s not going to shoot. And yet, a tiny, buried part of him sort of wants him to. 

“Gentlemen,” James exclaims, that fake cheer returning to his voice. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to bid you all farewell. Try not to miss me too much, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“You better pray we won’t, pirate,” Lucius snarls, stepping forward at the same time James steps back, still holding onto Regulus.

“Is that a threat, Commodore?”

“It’s a promise.”

James chuckles, and Regulus can feel it rumble against his back. “Well, here’s to hoping you’ll be able to keep it.”

He takes another step back, dragging Regulus with him, but the barrel of the gun isn’t touching his head anymore, and he notices James loosening the irons slightly. He must be about to make his escape, and Regulus thinks he should feel relieved about being freed, but he’s too busy being furious at the fact that James is going to get away with this.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be seeing you again, darlin’,” James says into Regulus’ ear. 

“If you ever dare to go near me again, I’ll kill you myself,” Regulus replies lowly, resisting the urge to turn his head away from James’ filthy mouth.

The pirate hums, and then presses his lips into Regulus’ skin, right under his ear, and it makes him jump, a choked off noise slipping past his mouth. 

For a terrifying moment, he thinks James is kissing him, but the gesture stays as a simple contact. It’s probably just another one of his attempts to anger him, to make a fool out of him, and Regulus loathes that it’s working.

“Looking forward to it,” James mumbles into his throat, and Regulus has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood to keep another sound from coming out.

And then, just like that, James is gone. Regulus is still recovering from his words, and the not-really kiss, when the chain disappears from around his neck, the body wrapped around him vanishing as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Lucius and the rest of his men rush after James, running past Regulus without giving him a second glance, but when he turns around, eyes desperately searching, he can’t see anything apart from a sea of uniformed soldiers. 

Regulus doesn’t stop thinking about what happened all day, not even when his father grabs him by the arm and hauls him home. Or when he screams at him for half an hour, and then sends him straight to bed without dinner. It all feels a bit like he’s in a dream, or a trance, and watching everything from outside. 

Nothing seems real anymore. Not since James spoke into his skin while pressing the barrel of his gun to Regulus’ skull.

He isn’t sure of how or when, but one thing is very clear: Regulus is getting revenge. He won’t rest until he sees that bloody pirate behind bars.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 6: New Possibilities

Prompt: I'm not giving up

(Sequel to Day 3, Getting It Right) Mulder - still not jealous - discovers Scully's date has sent her flowers. What does that mean? Rating: T, wc: 1,229

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

The bouquet of flowers is on their desk Monday morning, sitting there as if it belongs. Mulder stares at it, looking around, wondering if anyone is playing a prank. Nothing happens. He pockets his key and observes the assortment of fresh roses. With careful precision, he fishes out a small, pink card sat atop the flowers, trying not to sneeze.

“’For my lady’,” he reads out loud and doesn’t even need to keep reading to know who sent the flowers. Sawyer Montgomery, the guy Scully has gone out with twice. And, Mulder thinks to himself, who Scully ditched Friday night when they were supposed to have their third date. That might have been partly his fault, but that was last week, and in this new, fresh week, Sawyer is sending roses. How average.

“Mulder?” Scully catches him with his hand in the cookie jar – or rather in the flower bouquet. She’s holding two cups of coffee, and he rushes over to take them from her. The smell of caramel and cinnamon – his and hers – wafts through the office and for a moment he forgets that the flowers – and Sawyer – exist at all.

“Did you get flowers?” Scully asks him with a sweet, albeit curious smile.

“My dates don’t send flowers,” he says. “Yours do.”

“Sawyer?” she asks, sounding surprised and Mulder just nods. “Did he- was he here?”

“The flowers were already here when I arrived. Must be an X-file.”

Scully walks over to the flowers with deliberate steps, as though wary of them. Mulder realizes he’s still holding to the card and gives it to her.

“What is Wonder Boy saying?” he asks, trying to sound bored and nonchalant. He takes a sip from his coffee and watches color rise in her cheeks.

“Um, just that he hopes we can postpone our date. As you know,” she says, turning to him with narrowed eyes, “I had to cancel on Friday.”

“You know our job isn’t exactly 9 to 5.” Could the killer guinea pigs have waited til Saturday or even today? Probably. If he had waited and not jumped at the first pseudo-case he could find, they could have stayed home and enjoyed their weekends, because the killer guinea pigs turned out to be regular guinea pigs who nibbled on their very stoned owner’s fingers. In that alternate universe, Scully would have gone on her date with Sawyer, and maybe the card would have said something else entirely. It’s a universe he doesn’t want to contemplate.

“I know,” Scully mumbles, disrupting his inner turmoil. “I should call him.” She glances at him, her expression uncertain. Does she want dating advice? From him? “I’ll call him.”

“We have that meeting with Skinner in 15 minutes,” Mulder reminds her.

“You’re right,” she says and sounds almost relieved. Or maybe that’s just what he wants to hear. “I’ll call him later.”

And later, Mulder realizes as the day goes on, never comes. At no point during the day does Scully call Sawyer – or anyone, for that matter. He watches her like a hawk – she’s his partner after all and the day boring – but she never picks up the phone. She peeks at the flowers from time to time, her finger tracing a rose pedal, but still, she doesn’t call Sawyer. Close to five p.m., Mulder decides to just shoot his shot.

“Hey,” he says, waiting for Scully to glance up from her keyboard. Her eyes look even bigger because of the glasses she’s wearing. He’s never thought about it before – or her, really – but she’s beautiful. Cute, too.

“Yes, Mulder?”

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?” She seems surprised for a moment, but she takes off her glasses, smiles at him, and says yes.

*

They decide to get Chinese take-out from a place she loves near her apartment. That way, Scully explains, they can eat and still do some work. Mulder rolls his eyes, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t even care about working, as long as he gets to spend more time with her.

“Are you sure we can’t just watch a movie?” He has to at least try.

“Mulder, we need to get these reports done. Who knows what will come up tomorrow, or the rest of the week.”

“Something more fun than writing reports, I hope,” he mumbles.

“Dana? Dana!” Mulder and Scully turn at the exact same moment, their shoulders bumping into each other. A man jogs toward them and it doesn’t take long for Mulder to recognize who it is.

“Sawyer, hi.” It’s Scully who finds her voice first.

“Did you get my flowers?” The man asks with a huge smile directed at Scully, not even glancing at Mulder.

“I did- thank you.”

“I thought you’d call. Like I said, I’m not giving up on this. On us.” Mulder can’t do anything but watch as Sawyer takes Scully’s hands into this. “Hey look, I’m spontaneous. Let’s get dinner now.” His grin reveals two perfect rows of pearly white teeth. Mulder doubts that the man has ever missed an appointment, dentist or otherwise.

“I can’t, Sawyer. We just got take-out.”

“We?” The other man takes his eyes off Scully and observes Mulder, who attempts to smile. He has no idea whether Sawyer recognizes him from a few days back when they were both in line for coffee.

“Hi, I’m Mulder. Dana’s partner.” He offers his hand and only when Sawyer doesn’t take it, does Mulder realize that his choice of word might be misleading.

“Your- Dana? I thought-”

“I’m sorry, Sawyer,” Scully says and both men stare at her. She’s not correcting Mulder at all, or clarifying that what he meant is work partner. They just work together. Sure, they’re friends, too, but he doesn’t want to complicate things even more. “We just got back together.” Scully’s words are flat and not at all convincing; luckily, Sawyer never got the chance to get to know her well enough to realize what a terrible liar she is.

“Sorry, dude,” Mulder says, putting his arm around Scully. She leans into him easily, as if drawn to his side. It doesn’t feel fake at all. It feels right.

“I can’t believe this, I- you will have to find someone else to do your taxes, Dana. Good night.” With that, he stomps off.

“Did he really just say you need to find someone else to do your taxes?” Mulder asks, his arm still around Scully.

“Thank you for playing along.” She lets out a sigh and it sounds to him like relief.

“I thought you liked him.” She shrugs and they continue walking to her apartment.

“He was a bit…”

“Boring?” Mulder supplies, earning a well-deserved eyebrow.

“Not exactly right.” They’re almost at her building by now.

“Can I tell you a secret, Scully?” She just gives him a look. “I called him Snoozer in my mind.” That draws a genuine laugh from her.

“Why?”

“He’s a tax lawyer, Scully.”

“And that automatically makes him boring?”

“Yes!” They both laugh, their eyes locking. “I’m just glad I don’t have to become friends with him,” Mulder says after a moment. “He didn’t even get your coffee order right.”

“But you did,” she says and the implications of it stay in the air as a possibility. Out of her eyesight, Mulder just nods and smiles.

[sterekotypes]

“Eli, is that my jacket?” The leather was fraying around the cuffs. There were new scuffs on the shoulders, the back. Those weren’t there when Derek inherited the jacket. And they absolutely weren’t there when Derek died.

“It’s not like you were using it.” Eli shrugged with loose shoulders. He looked so much like Stiles in that moment; Derek was at a loss for words.

The stench of anger rolled off Eli like tsunami waves. His eyes flashed between beta gold and his human brown. They would have to work on his control. Again.

“If you don’t want me to have your stuff, maybe next time don’t kill yourself.” Derek opened his mouth to say something, anything. All that came out was a little puff of air.

Eli pushed back from the table with a devastating eye roll and walked off.

Derek growled at his retreating form. His own eyes went red as he dropped his head into his hands.

“I got him. Just remember what we talked about, Der-Bear. Not overnight.” Stiles ran his hand along the back of Derek’s neck, gave a quick kiss to his temple, and hurried after Eli.

[dedkake]

bottle feeding | 1.3k, g, mcshep

“You can’t adopt them.” John immediately regrets saying it, because he won’t be able to say no if Rodney really asks. He wouldn’t want to, anyway.

read it on ao3

[whump-in-the-closet]

The Shadows Under Their Eyes

Leslie-- weapon-in-training--completed a mission that left her rattled. With her world falling out from under her feet, she confronted the Organizer and now faces the consequences of her actions.

cw: death mention, that trope where a character keeps pulling weapons out of their pockets, broken bones and crowbars, severe beating because Leslie punched the Organizer (Sage) as she had every right to

Leslie, living weapon whumpee, reluctant to do her job (she/her)

Sage, whumper (they/them)

Kaspian, works for Sage, trains Leslie (he/him)

Locked in her room, Leslie had time to think. Too much time.

Between the racing thoughts, she’d see Swift’s eyes.

Hopeless. Blank. An expression she recognized. Those hopeless eyes. 

Her hands shook. Leslie clenched them, opened them, remembered the blood–bright, vivid, not her own–closed them again. 

Swift had slumped against Leslie as she died, like a deer folding to the forest floor, eyes wide and dark. Leslie sobbed, pressing her shaking hands against her mouth to stifle the sound. 

Oh god.

All that training, and for what? 

Oh fuck. 

Leslie muffled a strangled cry in her throat. 

Then she heard voices outside her door. Frantic for a distraction, she pressed an ear against the wood. It would have been better if she hadn’t. 

She recognized Kaspian’s voice first. “Sage, with all due respect, I won’t allow it.” 

The punishment. Right. Sage had threatened to make her regret her actions last night. 

Leslie shuddered. Kaspian better get her out of this. He had to. 

Sage’s response was curt. “Do you want to be reprimanded alongside your apprentice?” 

There was only soft hesitation. “No.” 

Kaspian was not getting her out of this.

All she had said was…

What had she said? Oh, right, she had entered Luca’s so-called important meeting with clients and punched Sage with her blood-drenched hands. 

She may have said something along the lines of “Sick asshole,” and left. But she hadn’t done any real damage to Sage's face or anything. They still had all their teeth. 

Leslie turned back to the conversation in time to hear Sage say: 

“Then your apprentice will take the reprimanding and thank me for it. She needs to learn what it means to be an Elite.” 

Leslie couldn’t take it. “You mean I need to learn to be a boot-licker?” She shouted the words through the door, uncaring. 

Sage wrenched the door open and Leslie fell back, but not quickly enough. They grabbed her by her shirt collar and hauled her into the corridor. 

Kaspian only shook his head. He gave her a look that said, you got yourself into this, get out of it yourself. 

Fine then. If Kaspian wanted her to Leslie-style this, then she would. “Personally, I’m disappointed in the both of you–” Leslie began to mock Sage. 

Sage slapped her across the mouth. “Not a word.” To Kaspian, they snapped, “Send her to Room 359. And then we will be speaking about additional training.” 

Leslie could only stare, mouth dry. 

Those hopeless eyes. 

Kaspian only paled slightly. “You’ll…you’ll kill her.” 

“I’m not that lucky.” 

Kaspian glanced at Leslie, then at Sage. Back to Leslie. He mouthed I’m sorry, then spoke up, voice cold. “You have to provide medical care after.” 

That snapped Leslie out of it. “Kaspian!” 

Cruel, cruel, cruel. 

Sage smiled.  “I knew you would come to see reason” They paused, and Leslie knew it was for effect, and added, “Agreed. I’d forgotten you’re an Elite after my own heart.” 

“For Christ’s sake,” said Leslie.

“What’s that?” said Sage. 

“I said–” 

Kaspian grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind him, “Nothing. She said nothing, my liege.”  

“Boot-licker,” whispered Leslie, for only Kaspian to hear. 

Kaspian made no motion of hearing her. 

Sage pointed at her, expression stern, “You’ll learn the hard way not to cross me.” They left the hallway.

 “Oh, sorry, I’ll take notes this time,” Leslie shouted after them. She didn’t stop there. Her face was still red where Sage had slapped her. “God knows who they think they are.” 

Kaspian lifted an eyebrow. “Sage holds our lives in their hands.” He gestured to her room. “Get back in there. The guards will pick you up tomorrow morning.” 

“Aw, are you still pissed at me?” 

“Go to your room.” 

“Okay, dad.” Leslie’s voice was sharp with sarcasm. If her voice cracked, they both pretended they didn’t notice.  As she stepped inside, she turned around with the final word, “Dad this, and Dad that, and fuck you, by the way.” 

Kaspian shut the door and locked it. He couldn’t look her in the face. 

Leslie was back with the racing thoughts and Swift’s dead eyes. 

Great. 

***

The guard kicked Leslie awake. He only had to kick once. She grabbed his ankle and twisted as he drew his leg back a second time. 

The guard hit the floor with a satisfying thud and Leslie had a blade to his throat, and a knee on his chest– that was even more satisfying. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked from her, red hair matted around sharp features and a dead light in her eyes, to the twitching blade. He exhaled shakily, “Don’t try anything. I’m to bring you down to the 359. The Liege’s orders.” 

Something inside Leslie twitched. 

359. 

The white room. With its tiled floor and dried stains that they never cleaned off. 

Her head suddenly began to throb. 

The guard regained his confidence. “Get off me!” 

Leslie stepped off him. “Yeah, cry about it.” 

The guard stood, with as much dignity as he could. With his eyes on her blade, he said, “Hand over your jacket and your weapons.” 

Leslie twirled the knife, watching the guard’s nervous twitch. After a small pause, she handed it to him. Then she surrendered her jacket. 

The early morning sun hit her arms, cold and sharp. Her posture slumped.

“Your other weapons,” said the guard. 

She took three more knives out of various pockets with slow, exaggerated movements and dropped them to the floor. 

“Is that all?” 

“No, I have an arsenal on me. I always plan to start international wars on a fucking Tuesday.” But she pulled out a small explosive and a vial of poison from her boot. 

The guard fumbled with both and she laughed at him. 

She stopped laughing when the guard shoved her into the hall with a rough, ’Get moving’, and the reality of it all became far too crushing, far too soon. 

Oh, fuck it all. 

He took her up several flights of stairs and into a long hallway with bright fluorescent lighting. No windows. 

Leslie felt her throat constrict. She didn’t say anything because she knew her voice would crack if she tried. 

It had been so long since Room 359. 

They stopped at the door, the numbers on a plate beside it. 

The guard unlocked it and shoved her in. “Should have kept your mouth shut,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“Go to hell,” Leslie snapped at him as the door closed. Her voice shook on the last word. 

She took in the room, with its iron-red stains and not-so-white walls. Someone had smeared a bloody handprint on the floor. It smelled faintly of ammonia and vomit. 

Oh. 

She tried not to think of how many people had cracked and begged and sobbed in this room. And how soon she would be one of them– 

She didn’t have to turn around to know three guards had entered the room. She could hear their footsteps just fine. 

They circled her, in masks and tightly-stitched armor. 

Leslie closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. 

To Swift– 

She exhaled sharply. 

No. 

Not to Swift. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Leslie saw one of the guards swing a crowbar with a slow methodical flick of their wrist. 

They brought it across the back of her knees.

Leslie muffled a scream and it came out as a strangled sound. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor. 

The smell of vomit became overwhelming. 

She saw white– splintering across her vision– bright and malignant. 

One of the guards hauled her to her feet by her shirt collar and Leslie tried to yank out of their grip, but they punched her, hard, in her stomach. 

She doubled over, coughing. 

The guard let her go with a disgusted sound. 

For a moment, she lay on the cold tiles, aching with an all-consuming hurt. Like it was something inside her, and alive. 

To the floor, she whispered, “I could take you any day.” 

“Smartass,” said the third guard. And brought the heel of their boot down on Leslie’s extended hand. 

She didn’t mean to cry out. But the pain curled up her wrist and exploded in her arm in a brilliant swath of murderous throbbing. 

Viscous and burning and she couldn’t think— 

The guard ground his boot into her hand. “You want to say that again?” 

Leslie screamed through a clenched jaw. 

The other guards laughed. 

One kicked her in the ribs and she curled up instinctively. 

Through her distorted vision, she could make out the vague outline of the crowbar, ticking back and forth.  

They took their boot off her hand and she knew, with the wrenching kind of sound her limp wrist made, it was broken. They dragged Leslie to her feet, again. 

Again. 

And again. 

The crowbar, the fists, the boots. 

Again. 

And again. 

She wasn’t conscious when they left the room. 

[haveihitanerve]

Whats the Password?

“Okay B! We got the codes!” “good work… BatFam.” Bruce said into the comms. The entire brigade of batkids cheered from their respective places around Gotham. “He used it!” Steph cheered. There was a soft laugh and the others grinned, identifying it immediately as Cass’s. “B, the BatComputers on right?” Dick asked, swinging from one building to the next. “Yeah it should be.” Bruce answered, starting the Batmobile. “Oh, wait no. Actually its not. I turned it off because Al threatened to deep fry me the next time he was able to cook an omelet on it.” “the next time?” Jason asked. Bruce grimaced and tim crowed with laughter. “Oh yeah. I remember that. Never seen B so scared as the day we rolled into the Batcave to find al casually flipping an omelet. He served it to us right there. B looked so damn scared. And then i went upstairs and put in my noise canceling earplugs and went to bed.” The Batkids laughed. “No fucking way.” Jason gasped, holding his sides with laughter. Bruce sent his second oldest a look. “Anywho, whats the password then B? I assume you'll take a while.” Bruce nodded, even though they couldn't see. “Oh yeah. The password is- ~~~~~~~*static*~~~~~~~” “What did he say?” Tim asked, tapping his comm. “I dunno.” Dick answered, frowning. “Dad?” But bruces comm had cut out completely. “He said its his favorite kids name.” damian answered. “Gods how guys even survived this long without being able to hear this sort of stuff is beyond me.” he muttered. “No he didn't!” Steph said. “Theres no way!” “yes way!” Jason called. “First one to the cave gets to put in their name!” Duke called and they heard his engine rev. “Hold the fuck up!” Tim bellowed and each kid raced to the Batcave.

Tim, ultimately, got there first. “Haha! Suckers!” he stuck his tongue out at them and quickly typed in his name. Tim Drake-Wayne. ERROR. Dick grinned, shoving his brother out of the way. “Move aside. Favorite kid coming through.” He quickly typed his name in, but the keypad showed the same result. ERROR. Dick growled and handed the keypad to damian who grinned smugly, then immediately snarled when his name also didn't match. He handed it to cass who handed it to steph who handed it to Duke but none of them worked. Jason laughed. “Amatures.” He said. “Oh really?” dick scoffed. “Like it'd be your name!” Damian shot. Jason chuckled, reaching out a hand. “Try me.” Duke frowned, but handed it over. WELCOME, BATMAN The computer said, unlocking. 

When Bruce rolled into the Batcave later he had expected to find his children training, maybe cleaning up and even dining, even though he knew they would wait for him to come before eating a meal. What he did not, however, expect to find, was Dick sobbing in the corner, Duke screaming Bloody Mary at the top of his lungs, tim and damian breaking everything in sight and attempting to break each other, while Stephanie and Cass glared at Jason, who was sitting on top of the massive Bat Computer screen, grinning ear to ear. When they heard the Batmobile each of his children stopped, and slowly, like in a horror movie, they turned to look at him. “Ah.” Dick said, standing. “If it isn't the traitor.” Bruce looked between them in confusion. “Im sorry what?” he looked to Cass for help, but she turned away, nose in the air. “Tim?” But tim just glowered. “How Father?” damian seethed. “How can you allow him!” he pointed at jason, who just waved. “Him!!! The honor?” Bruce was now thoroughly confused. “Jason!” he called. “Get down here. Whats going on? Did the codes not work?” “oh they worked.” Dick sniffed, handing over the keypad. “I put them in.” Bruce nodded. “Good. Good. Now what is this all about?” He asked. Dick let out a huff, then answered. “You told us your password was your favorite child's name. So we ran back here and each of us put in our names. But it didn't work!” he glared at Bruce. “Until Jason tried it. Really? Hes your favorite? You two fight daily! Not to mention you let him die!” “woah!” bruce held up his hands. “First of all, no. Secondly, who said it was my favorite child?” Dick blinked. “You did.” Bruce shook his head. “What? No!!! I said it was my favorite ice cream. How did you get favorite child's name from that?!?!?” They all turned accusatory looks on damian. He melted slightly. “Also!” Bruce whirled on his second oldest who was now leaned against a pillar, perfectly at ease. “Jay! You were next to me when I said that! Why didn't you correct them?” Jason’s answering smile was slow. “I liked to watch them panic.” 

[redrobin-detective]

Cloudmates

Zuko had felt alone most of his life.

He didn’t have many friends growing up in the palace, mostly leeching off the ones Azula brought home from school. Azula was a nightmare to talk to, you never knew what she was thinking and every word was a potential weapon in her arsenal. Father certainly didn’t make him feel like he belonged. Even Uncle, for all his patience and kindness, sometimes seemed to look past Zuko, to the man he could be rather than the scared kid he was. Mother had been the only one who seemed to truly see Zuko. The best parts of his childhood were spent describing whatever interest of the moment he had while his mother combed his hair and encouraged him to continue. He’d never felt more comfortable, happy and free as he had in those small, simple moments. Once she left, there really wasn't anyone Zuko felt comfortable being himself with. 

Even when his father made him the most recognizable person in the world, Zuko had never felt more invisible. He dug into the hurt of his wounds, both physical and emotional, and put up the front everyone was expecting of the banished prince on an impossible mission. He felt like an actor in a play, playing a part he hadn’t rehearsed and wasn’t prepared for. The more he tried to mold himself into the kind of prince his father wanted of him, the more he wanted to claw out of his own skin. 

Leaving the Fire Nation and joining the Avatar wasn’t supposed to change anything. He felt more settled, more sure that he was finally on the right path but he still felt like a puppet in someone else’s story. Zuko was prepared to do his duty to the world by training the Avatar before retreating back to solitude. He wasn’t prepared for Sokka.

It started with swords. Sokka had been incredibly unsubtle in his admiration of them from the moment Zuko had joined the group. He’d probably thought the blades had just been for show and thought it would be funny to see an ashmaker clumsily try to use them. Zuko will admit to a bit of cruel satisfaction when he thoroughly trounced Sokka in their spar. The feeling didn’t last, it made him feel too much like Azula. Luckily, Sokka didn’t take the loss badly. In fact, he looked downright ecstatic. 

From that point on, it wasn’t unusual to see Sokka eagerly bouncing on the sidelines as he waited for Aang’s firebending lessons to conclude. Zuko thought he would be annoyed at the intrusion on his time but instead he found himself almost looking forward to it. And if he ended Aang’s training early a few times, well, he doubted the young monk was bothered by it.

Working together and almost dying at the Boiling Rock was what really cemented their relationship. Now it wasn’t just swords, Sokka seemed to come to him for everything. They talked constantly, about anything and everything. Zuko thinks he spoke more over a few days in that temple than he ever did in his weeks back at the palace. Just when he’d thought he’d run out of words or opinions, Sokka would ask another question and more would pour out. 

The water tribe boy was creative and filled with ideas from the bombastic to the mundane. Zuko was a living furnace, stubborn and was pretty decent at physics and calculations. It didn’t take long for them to start supplementing their discussions with tools and inventions. He’d always done things for grand purposes, the idea of just fiddling with pieces of junk while talking seemed an insane waste of time. Zuko loved it.

When he was with Sokka, Zuko felt both smarter and more stupid than he’d ever been. The best part was he didn’t even care which was which.

“We’re - I’m so, so sorry,” Zuko apologized, shaking and fully prepared to beg for mercy on his hands and knees. Sokka was still partially stuck to the wall as Aang and Toph tried to free him, leaving Zuko the unenviable task of preventing Katara from killing them. Katara had gotten more lenient of him since he’d first joined but he didn’t want to test his luck. She was frowning, her lips pressed tightly together as she tried using her bending to pull at the sticky tangle of goop he and Sokka had made out of her hair. To be honest, in the later half of the experiment, he’d plain forgotten what it had been for in the first place.

“You-” she snapped before taking a deep breath and calming herself. “It’s fine,” she said through gritted teeth that said nothing about the situation was fine. “I know this is mostly Sokka’s handiwork. I’ve had to deal with his nonsense my whole life, you’re just helping make the explosions bigger.”

Zuko winced as Katara turned herself away from him. “You know, Sokka has been the oldest boy in our tribe for years since our men went to war. Plus Sokka has always been a bit, well, you know how he is. Until we left the South Pole, he’d never really had any other guys his age to do his weird things with.”

“What about Aang?” Zuko blinked, confused by the non sequitur. Was he going to be made into an ice kabob or not? He needed to ask Sokka what they’d been making before he could die.

“Oh Sokka loves Aang but Aang isn’t going to help him use my best cooking pot to make some sort of spirit blasted nightmare goo,” Katara sighed roughly. “You're off the hook today, just keep my idiot brother safe and please try to tone down, whatever it is you two are always getting up to.”

Zuko didn’t understand the interaction. He asked Sokka about it who also didn’t seem to understand it. They talked at length, again, about crazy prodigy younger sisters. Then Sokka started questioning where they went wrong with their concoction. They sat and worked through the problem until Angi’s blessing could be seen cresting over the horizon.

All too soon, the comet was upon them and the war was over. Zuko knows it was incredibly, horribly selfish of him to say that he wished it could have gone on just a little bit longer. For the first time he had friends; he felt safe and seen in their company. There had never been someone like Sokka in his life - not since his mother - but he wouldn’t dream of talking to mom about some of the things he’d told Sokka. 

Zuko had whispered to the other boy his deepest fears, his regrets, the sources of his shame and pain. He’d told stories he’d never spoken aloud and it was like purging his body of poison, painful but necessary. Zuko had presented all of his weaknesses on a platter for Sokka to abuse and instead got understanding, some very angry tears on his behalf and trust to hold Sokka’s own secrets. It felt so freeing to place so much of himself in another person’s hands and to have it be protected instead of broken. 

The first week after the comet was filled with joy and anxiety as they celebrated a world without war while also struggling to actually end the war. He worked tirelessly during the day, sending out letters and pulling back troops and letting Katara heal him at night. Throughout everything, his friends were always close at hand. It was the most peace Zuko had ever felt in his entire life. He could have lived in those small moments forever. If he’d known it could be like this, he’d have defected the first moment he’d landed at the South Pole. 

Of course, nothing good ever stayed for long with Zuko. Aang had Avatar duties, Toph was obligated to see her parents and the Water Tribe siblings needed to get back to their slowly rebuilding tribe. Zuko’s heart ached at the thought of seeing them leave, of being alone again. He loved them all in their own way but Zuko could admit that he would miss Sokka most of all. Besides Uncle, he was probably Zuko’s most treasured person. 

On the morning they were planning to leave, Zuko was walking down the long hallways of his empty palace. He was bracing himself for the pain and loneliness that was to come. He should have known better than to get attached but he had always been a slow learner. His main goal was to avoid crying until after they were airborne. 

“Hey Fire Lord Jerkbender,” Sokka grinned, flinging an arm around Zuko’s shoulder. He still wasn’t all that used to friendly touch but Sokka always seemed to be the exception. He leaned into it, savoring it before the long goodbye he didn’t know when he’d see the end to. “I hope you’re ready for some tears because Aang is absolutely gonna start crying which will set Katara off and they’ll just become a big puddle. Toph will get punchy and Suki will make the whole thing way more intense than it needs to be. It’s gonna take forever, might even be pushed back to lunch and we’ll have to do it all over again.”

“And what about you?” Zuko asked casually, like he didn’t care. Not at all.

“I want to say I’ll be big and tough and act like it doesn’t affect me,” Sokka shrugged with the arm wrapped around Zuko’s shoulder. “But Katara and I have never been separated for more than a few days since we were born and Aang and Toph have basically become my younger siblings who I would literally die to protect and I know Suki is coming back but-”

“Sokka, what are you talking about?” Zuko asked, shooting him a look. “You’re going with.”

“Oh uh no, I was actually planning on staying with you, here in the Fire Nation.” Zuko gaped at him and Sokka scratched at his hair sheepishly. “The others know which is why this is gonna drag out and I’m only now realizing I forgot to talk to you about it so uh, hey, can I crash at your stupidly big palace for a while? If, uh, that’s okay with you?”

Zuko ought to scream for joy, sequester Sokka deep in the palace before he could change his mind. If he wasn’t already in the process of returning all the lands his family had conquered, he’d offer them to Sokka right now just to keep him here. 

“Don’t you want to go home? See your family?” He asked instead because more than anything, he just wanted his friend to be happy.

“I mean yeah and I will but Zuko, I can’t leave you here to run a country all by yourself. You’re a fancy dancy firebender but you missed out on the fine art of politics-bending,” Sokka said with a little smirk. “I miss things about home but it seems, I don’t know, kinda small now after all I’ve seen. I can’t just go back to making ice forts and penguin sledding like none of this ever happened. Besides, it would feel wrong being there without my sword bending partner, inventing buddy, human heat pack and best friend?”

“I’m your best friend?” Zuko asked quietly.

“Well yeah,” Sokka blushed. “Like the world leader stuff is cool and important but I’m really just staying for you. Don’t tell Toph this but you’re kind of my favorite member of Team Avatar.”

Zuko’s goal is thoroughly on fire. He didn’t even get to the goodbyes before he started crying.

They celebrate the one year anniversary of Ozai’s defeat in Ba Sing Se. It had been hard to make arrangements for everyone to be here but it had been worth it. In the back of the Jasmine Dragon was a small, well maintained garden for outdoor seating on nice days. They’ve moved all the tables aside and were sprawled on the grass, sitting around a fire pit. Just like the good old days, only better.

Sokka had been telling an overly exaggerated story about Fire Sage Reijiro’s reaction to catching Sokka trying to steal scrolls from the Dragon Bone Catacombs. He was lounging in Zuko’s lap; he expertly dodged Sokka’s flailing hands as he told his story, coaxing bigger laughs out of his audience.

“I still have no idea how you smooth talked your way out of that,” Zuko sighed at the end. “I thought I was gonna have to send you back to the South Pole extra crispy.” Everyone laughed at that. Sokka had taught him how to tell jokes now, one of the many things he’d learned over the past year. 

“You know, Zuko,” Aang said with a thoughtful smile, “I think you and Sokka are cloudmates.”

“Huh?” Zuko and Sokka asked at the same time. He gently brushed aside some loose strands of hair from Sokka’s face so it didn’t get in his eye.

“Is this a romance thing because I know I’m rather impressive but I don’t know if I have what it takes to make an honest man of the Fire Lord,” Sokka said with an eye roll. Zuko flicked his ear.

“I mean it can be,” Aang said, leaning back to look at the pink clouds floating above them. “It’s… How do I explain? Sometimes when you look up at the clouds, you can’t tell one from the other. They become so blended that it eventually becomes just one big cloud. Cloudmates are people who are made of the same stuff, who get along so easily, so naturally it’s like one person in two bodies.” The rest of them blinked and also started looking at the heap of clouds.

“I’m intrigued,” Sokka nodded, stroking at his chin. “State your evidence for the court, Avatar.”

“I don’t know if you can have evidence for this sort of thing, you just feel it,” Aang shrugged. “I guess I first thought you guys might be as far back as the Western Air Temple. I mean, you did kinda try and steal away my firebending teacher, Sokka. After all this time, seeing you two more, I think I’m certain now. You’re your own person, with unique ideas and experiences but you’re also something else, something better, together. You’re not just Sokka or Zuko but you’re also Zuko&Sokka.” Aang continued.

“I mean we all are made up of the same bits, bone and blood and squishy organs,” Sokka frowned thoughtfully, his eyes flicking up to Zuko’s. “What do you think, Your Royal Fieriness? Is my cloud all mixed up with your cloud?”

Zuko wasn’t sure he was a cloud. He’d been a victim, a prince, a traitor, a teacher and the biggest idiot the world had ever seen. He’d felt like he’d been so many things in so little time, too much of him and his shame piling up to fit into one person. But to think he was something like Sokka, by far one of the cleverest, bravest, kindest people he’d known, maybe there was hope for him yet. 

“I suppose,” Zuko said flippantly, “that your cloud and my cloud may intermingle but only if you promise when you get back to the South Pole that you will prepare a room for me. As Fire Lord, I need to see for myself that diplomatic matters with my fellow nations are being handled correctly.” He grinned down at his friend. “I will need to speak to someone important about reparations and moving forward. Know someone who can work with me?”

“Oh, I think I know a guy,” Sokka laughed back. Overhead, the pink dusted clouds gently moved past in a big pile, separate but intrinsically linked.

[light-trio-pokemon]

GARTEN OF BANBAN FAN ENDING🥲

Finally the player found their children. Suddenly behind them is the devil Banban who has defeated the real antagonist. Player worried about the possibility that the devil will attack and kill them and their children. But something unexpected happened...

"So glad... you made it."

His veins suddenly appeared on his entire body causing a lot of green blood or givanium burst out from Banban's mouth and then he lost his balance fell laying on the floor. Player quickly went to him bravely as they felt that Banban was able to control himself again. They can saw that Banban's body was getting thinner because of losing givanium.

"Uthman!!"

"Just call me what I am... Poor you all, I shouldn't be mad when you call me that when I'm truly... a monster..."

Suddenly, they felt a tremor like an earthquake in this kindergarten.

"Oh no... You and your children have to get out of this place now before it collapses and destroys..!"

"What about you? Let's go out too! I don't want to leave you here!!"

"You don't need to... This place is the only one I should be... And I am too dangerous to be close with your kind..."

"But-"

"Player... As a principal of this kindergarten... I'm so sorry for anything bad that you and your children had been through... and thank you for being the only one who trust me until the end... I'm really appreciate it... Take care... Farewell-"

He shocked when suddenly Player gave him a long hug

"I feel so sorry about you... I know that you've been through a lot since you existed... You must feel lonely... Nobody treats you like what you think... But I respect that you still help me no matter what will happen to you... You are a human at heart, Banban... I'm so glad I got to meet a person like you and I will never forget your kindness to me and my child..."

Case 6 eyes are filled with tears after hearing the last message from Player who's the only one care about him especially about the term of humanity that he actually had it even though he is a monster. And it's been so long he didn't feel the warmth of hug from human. His hands slowly reach up tried to hug back the player.

"Thankfully..."

But at the last moment, he's unable to give hug back as his hands dropped and body became limp slowly falling. All that left is silent for eternity...

Player felt more sad as they know what's that mean... They put him lying down on floor and stand up to leave from this kindergarten even though they felt bad leaving like this.

Only the principle was left behind alone again but forever as the place was going destroyed...

-THE END-

That's it, you guys. So why Banban may be dead because lack of blood to live and didn't eat his pain medicine for too long. Every time he returns from being devil, he will spit out too much givanium and it's happen too many times added up with the effect of Jumbo Josh's punch from chapter 3. Maybe his body still can't accept the givanium which is supposed to be like his blood. And because of his body appearance usually change (become hellish form), stitches on his back slowly open or torn. The way of his talking also showed that he didn't have more energy to live. And the way he died was referring to the way Kugisaki Nobara's death from anime Jujutsu Kaisen. So yeah, I hope even the ending maybe not like this, there were some angst because I would love it especially when it relates to Banban's situation. Ok bye!

Prequel ----- Middle story

[hugsandchaos]

I don’t know what exactly I made here, but it’s angst, and it’s pretty short. And no, I won’t apologize.

V looked outside the window of their landing pod, her eyes widening when she saw just how bad the weather was outside. She heard the howling wind when she woke up, it was the loudest breeze she’s ever heard, and with how bad it looked outside, she didn’t expect to spot a lamppost. It seemed frozen to the ground, but it still swayed in the wind and threatened to topple with creaks that didn’t reach her audio receptors. Despite feeling as if she was speechless, V spoke up.”I’m sorry I dragged you into this.” She said.

J blinked and was pulled back to reality, away from her mind formulating plans and ideas on how to handle things from here (things like how they’re going to keep the pod’s fuel up and get food somehow), and looked over at her girlfriend.”You have nothing to apologize for. I had to make the decision to speak up and get sent with you.” She said, standing up from the floor and walking over to V. She put an arm around her and held her close. Still, V couldn’t help but feel guilt for what she did. No more than 25 hours ago, they were working in the manor and being scolded by Louisa, as usual. When she threatened to send them to Copper 9 if they screwed up again, something inside of V snapped.

Hearing the name “Copper 9” reminded her of one of the friends she’s made in the manor, one who was often too nice for his own good. She remembered watching N read books to Cyn as she fell asleep and spar with J to help her get better, and she remembered the look on his face when it was discovered how much of a natural he was in a fight. She remembered the times N would lie and stick up for her, Cyn, J, Tessa, and even drones he didn’t know. She remembered his endless rants about different dog breeds and how happy he was talking about them. For a time, she even believed herself to be developing a crush on him, but that was long gone. And so was N. V was also reminded of that day he was suddenly taken away by the company for some sort of experiment. That was the last they’ve ever heard of him.

V suddenly started yelling and shouting at Louisa, even going as far as to throw a pan at her. J tried to stop her, but not even V could do that now that the dam had been broken. In the end, she was put in cuffs and her punishment was to be sent to Copper 9, and J exclaimed that V wouldn’t be going anywhere without her. V knew that J loved her, but she still could hardly believe her audio receptors when she said that. Because of her outburst, she was sent along with V. And now V felt like a terrible girlfriend for getting her sent with her to some frozen, desolate city wasteland.

V turned to J and hugged her. She wanted to cry and apologize over and over, but nothing came out. J already knew, anyways. She hugged back and briefly used one hand to fix V’s hair in an attempt to help her calm down.”Come on, let’s just sit down and think about what we’re going to do, okay?” She suggested. V soon nodded in agreement and the hug was broken so they could walk back to where they were sitting before. Once they sat down, J once again embraced V and pulled her close. V leaned her head against her girlfriend’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her as she began to rub her back.”We’ll be okay, I promise.” J whispered. V didn’t understand how she could be this calm, but then again, she might not actually be calm. J might be just as panicked as V was, but still trying to find a solution for their problem instead of worrying about it like she often did. Little by little, the howling winds began to fade into the background as V began to slowly calm down, distracted by J’s silent reassurance.

THUD

J and V both looked up at the ceiling as if they’d somehow see through the roof. The thud wasn’t the loudest thing, but since it was right above them, they heard it clearly through the blizzard. They both went quiet. The pod was strong, but not that strong. If something big had hit them, they’d need to leave the pod at some point. The best bet was probably to wait until the blizzard stopped or at least slow down enough for them to run to somewhere more stable. Then, they heard something else. Something that threw the idea out the window, along with any other ideas they were going to come up with to hopefully get it off.

Footsteps.

Something crawled along the roof of the pod, towards the door. Quickly, J sprinted to the door and locked it, stepping back as she heard the faint whirring sound of the lock, followed by an audible click. Thank goodness she did that because soon, whatever it was on the roof jumped off of the pod and landed directly in front of the window to the left of the door. J stepped to the window and tried to look outside, but all she caught of whatever was out there was a vaguely rectangular shaped yellow light moving up and down in a similar motion to a snake slithering, then disappearing to the right of the window. Directly in front of the door.

J took slow steps back something attempted to open the door on the outside. It only tried once, slowly twisting the knob, then turning it back and releasing it when it realized it was locked. It was as if it wanted to go undetected, or maybe it just wanted to toy with them. J continued backing up until she stood in front of V and shifted into a more defensive stance in front of her. V glanced nervously between J and the door and reached for J’s hand with her own. When she felt V touch her hand, she reached that hand back to let her hold it for comfort while still trying to keep herself look unapproachable. Incase that thing suddenly broke down the door and got inside to attack them.

They both heard a very faint whirring or buzzing sound, the sound of a chainsaw. Almost immediately, a spot on the door began to pop off small bits and pieces before the head of the chainsaw broke through. V had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. The chainsaw cut throw the door slowly and smoothly, practically gliding along the doorframe. Freezing winds blew through the newly made opening, carrying bits of snow with it, and made the two shiver. As the chainsaw cut more of the door, it slowly began to tilt from the lack of support. Finally, the door came loose enough to fall down with a startling thud that made V jump and grab onto J’s arm. When it fell, it gave them a chance to see what — or who — had destroyed the door.

A drone — probably as tall as Tessa is now, if not a bit taller — stood at the doorway and slowly walked inside. He was wearing a dark coat with a fur collar, probably kept together by the belt around his waist, and a hat with a yellow symbol that kind of looked like a pilot hat with the wings on it. Just below said hat were what looked like semispheres attached to his head, like some weird headband, but his white hair was covering the headband if it was there. The semispheres glowed yellow, just like his eyes, which were focused on the two drones on the other side of the pod. His arms and legs didn’t look much like a worker drone’s. Instead of a sort of tube holding and protecting all their wires and metallic skeleton, his appeared reinforced with metal and more visible joints. His hands appeared normal, though, and oddly enough, they weren’t holding a chainsaw. On top of all of this, he had a tail that held a canister and stinger at the other end of it.

However, all of these things paled in comparison when J and V realized that the strange drone looked a lot like...

“N!!!!” V practically screamed his name as she sprinted towards him. She practically threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him, causing his tail to shoot straight up like an expression of surprise. V hugged him tighter than she’s ever hugged anyone, so tight that soon enough, her arms would begin to ache.“Oh, I missed you so, so much!!! Thank robo-Jesus you’re alive!!!” She cried out. Her voice was muffled by the fact that her face was basically shoved against him, but the emotion in her statement was more than enough to show just how powerful she felt about this unexpected reunion. When J finally managed to pull herself out of the shock, she choked out a single, barely audible “heh” out of disbelief before walking over and also hugging him.

She didn’t realize exactly how much she had been waiting for this moment after years of telling herself not to think about N being gone, but now that she was living it, she found herself trying not to cry as she spoke.“I have no words. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy to see you again, but—“ J cut herself off when N promptly grabbed her arms and removed them from around himself. He did the same with V and smiled at them with a hint of uncertainty as he took a few steps back.

“I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

[castillomichaela]

don't you want me baby (djats)

a daisy/billy/camila wild night.

pitch :

Camila had never been blind to Daisy and Billy's love. She had simply decided to keep her jealousy to herself, even though it was poisoning her life. Until one night, she chose to speak up. She wasn't expecting such an outcome, though.

Camila’s anger had turned into a need for revenge. To get back at the two who constantly humiliated her. She grabbed Billy’s chin, soft, too soft, and said to Daisy: “You want to know what it’s like to fuck my husband? Watch.” And she kissed him. He melted into her touch and kissed her harder, until he realised what he was doing. “Stop being so cruel. She’s uncomfortable.” “Don’t speak for me, Billy. I’m not uncomfortable,” Daisy said, because it was the truth. “I want to watch. And if you want me to, I can be a very good girl,” she said, because she liked provoking.

[bedofthistles]

Museum

The De Noirs to Maria: stop being so mean to mean, or I swear to God I'm gonna fall in love with you!

The Eastern Chambers had been swept, mopped, de-cobwebbed, dusted, and aired out as best a room could with a single window that was little more than a slit someone forgot to mortar up than a window. 

And the whole time, Robin stood stationed by the door. His eyes locked on the Moon Princess. 

She was adorable. 

As soon as they had marched back into the room, two men were already there, taking down the boards. They were about to leave when Maria cried out: “Oh I think not!” And ordered them to clean the room. 

The two men had stared at her in disbelief. 

They looked to him, to confirm the order, and Robin simply nodded. 

“It is filthy and disgusting!” She declared as she followed them in. “Look at the state of this place! There is not a single clean thing in this room, and if I am to stay here I shall like it to be pristine.” Then, she changed her wording, when they didn’t seem to understand. “Clean! Spotless!” 

“Right away, ma’am!” They said, and Robin bit his lip before he laughed out loud. 

The two men returned with three maids and enough cleaning supplies to scour the whole castle, and began their work. 

Maria did not sit idly by, oh no, she shouted commands befitting a general. “The bedding please, it's thin as parchment, and moth-bitten.” Then, “Do you see that, up there? On the ceiling? It's an orphanage for arachnids, any long stick will get the job done!” And of course, “Every step I take brings up more dust! Please, if someone knows how to manage a broom? And perhaps a mop, that would be oh so appreciated!” 

Soon, there was an army of his father’s servants looking to Maria for instruction. 

“What’s going on in here?”

Robin turned his head, even as his eyes remained glued to her, as Richard, Henry, and David entered the once closed off chamber. “The Princess.” 

“Annie said there was a big commotion. Is she allowed to do this?” Richard asked, crossing his arms as a smile split across his face. 

“I mean, really, how am I supposed to wear these? Take them all out at once! Have them laundered and returned, if you please!” Maria said, and two maids began emptying her wardrobe. 

“I’m not sure,” Robin shrugged. “But I’m not stopping her.”

“She’s certainly whipped them into shape better than Dulac has. Or even your father.” Henry said, his voice a whisper, as admitting such things was mutinous. No matter how true.

“Speaking of my father-” Robin said, pushing himself off the wall, he beckoned the boys to follow him outside into the hall. 

His own chambers were across from hers, and his father’s was at the end of the hall, given that Loveday’s old room was, wouldn't you know it, in the family wing. Robin, however, wanted to keep his sights on her, and didn’t enter his room. They just needed to be away from the nosy servants. 

“New duties, mates.” Robin said, his eyes flashing to each of theirs in turn before returning to where Maria was berating one of his father’s men. “Father doesn’t want Maria to be out of our sights.”

“Our sights? Our sights?” Richard asked. “As in, we have to watch her?”

Robin nodded. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Just make sure she doesn’t leave that room.” 

“No.” David said. 

“No?”

“No! I’m not watchin’ her. It's your fault she’s here!” David said. 

“You can’t say no to the Coeur.” Robin said. 

“I can and I have and I will. Besides, I have too much on my plate already! I’m not adding ‘watch silly girl to my list’.” David crossed his arms, and settled Robin with a glare. 

“You have to.” Robin said. “No arguing. Look, it won’t be that bad, will divide it up evenly-”

“Evenly!” David shook his head. “No, here’s what we’ll do.” David gestured to himself and then Henry and Richard. “We’ll watch her during the day, and you can watch her all night. ‘Cuz I sure as hell ain’t waking up in the middle of the night.”

“Oh c’mon-”

“I second!” Richard said, flinging his hand up into the air. 

Then, David, Richard and Robin turned to Henry. 

Henry sighed, “Sorry Robin, if I disagree they’ll make me take the night shift.”

Robin rolled his eyes, but at least they were complying. “Fine, I’ll make it work. You can divide up the day between yourselves, I’m going to go report to my father. But- Maria knows about the tunnels.”

“What? Robin!” Richard groaned, as Henry scoffed and David rolled his eyes, “Of course she does!”

“It was the only way to hide her when Merryweather came by the other day! I had to hide her.” Robin said, but shook his head. “So, she knows, and if she’s smart enough, she’ll try to use that to escape.” 

“She’s smart enough.” David said. “No doubt about that.”

☾

At long last, Maria’s room was spotless, and underneath all the dust, she saw how beautiful it was. The walls had been painted with pale and faded paints, but mimicked that of a garden in full bloom. Roses, iris, geraniums, crawling ivy. The tapestry that had been hung on the wall had been taken out and beaten and now boasted bright and beautiful threadwork. Her bedding had been replaced with a summer appropriate quilt - red and black in color, but she digressed. Even the powders on her vanity had been replaced and updated. 

“Robin, I- oh.” She bit her tongue when she was confronted with the Highwayman from the other day rather than Robin himself. “Hello, may I ask where Robin has gone off to?”

“To report to his father. He’ll be back by nightfall.” 

Maria nodded and clasped her hands behind her back, her fingers playing with the trailing ribbons. “I see. My name is Maria Merryweather, though, I suspect you already knew that.”

The boy smiled, and nodded. “Yes, my name is Henry.” 

“It’s a pleasure to formally meet my other kidnapper.” She smiled, but Henry was able to identify the sarcasm her words were dripping with. “Tell me, why did you do it?”

Henry blinked in surprise, but before he answered, Maria was off once more. 

“Is it because you too believe me a Moon Princess, or the Moon Princess, I should say, since it sounds like there is only one at a time. Though, I still have no idea what makes any of you think I am the Moon Princess.” 

Henry opened his mouth, but he was not quick enough. 

“Countless young girls were just in here! Any of them could have been Moon-worthy, but no, it must be me! Somehow, I think it has little to do with me being Moon Princess and more with me being a Merryweather! Though, besides the silly story Robin told me, I can’t imagine why there would be so much discord-”

“It’s not a silly story.”

“Pardon?” Maria paused in her ranting.

“It’s not a silly story.” Henry repeated, voice stronger even in the face of such a ferocious little lioness. “It’s our history.”

Maria pursed her lips. But of course, they all believed it. They had all fallen victim to some shared delirium, like those people who danced themselves to death in France. The De Noirs were French after all, so maybe it was a French thing. But they were in England, and the English were sensible, if nothing else, so Maria was determined to get this knot untangled and everyone set right. 

“Please, tell me your version of the curse. I’d love to hear it.” Maria nodded to Henry. She sat primly on the edge of her bed and waited for him to speak. 

“It began long ago, nearly four hundred years have passed since the Moon Princess cast her curse.” Henry spoke, his voice soft despite how large and lumbering he was. “A maiden blessed by the Moon, and loved by Nature. She was given the gift of the Pearls, which reflected like a mirror, men’s hearts and the truth that resided within.”

Already a discrepancy. 

Maria supposed the Pearls could do more than just grant wishes, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? Myths and legends changed with time and tongues. The storyteller allowed to add whatever pretty flourishes they wanted. 

“The two men who ruled peacefully over the Valley, her father and Sir Wrolf Merryweather, each wanted the Pearls for their own use. To rule over the land. The Pearls revealed their hearts' intent to the Princess, and they fought viciously over the pearls. Though neither died on the other’s sword, the Princess knew peace would never be theirs. She called upon Nature, bidding it do her will, and cast the curse. Great darkness would fall upon the land until a pure hearted girl came to the Valley, and fixed what was broken.” 

“Finished?” 

Henry blushed, but nodded. “Yes.”

Maria shook her head as she stood and hovered to the tapestry. It depicted a moon, shining down brightly over a churning sea. In the waves, silver horses weaved in and out of the water. 

“Why does the Coeur De Noir want the Pearls? What power do they possess?” 

“My mother always said the pearls contained all magic.” 

“Oh do they?” Maria rolled her eyes. “Such a shame they are lost.”

Maria cast a glare over her shoulder, but Henry was staring straight ahead, and it seemed the conversation was over. 

Henry left shortly thereafter, only to be replaced with the blond one. 

Richard, he introduced himself to her, bowing lowly and kissing her knuckles. 

“You know, my governess warned me about boys like you.” She said, “That usually they come with syphilis.” 

Richard jumped back, “I-! I don’t have-! I’m in perfect-! You take that back.”

“No.” Maria smirked. “But if you would please tell me about the Curse over this Valley, I may apologise.”

“The Curse? With the Pearls?” Richard blew out air between his lips as he crossed his arms and ankles to settle against the wall. “Simple. The De Noirs and Merryweather’s got into a big ole fight about who got possession of the Pearls, and the Moon Princess cursed them.”

Maria blinked, oh good lord. She didn’t think she’d ever ask Richard anything ever again. 

What kind of answer was that? 

It was even worse than Robin’s stuttering tale about the tragedy, and Henry at least told her what the pearls did! 

“Well?” Richard asked. 

“Well, what?” 

“You insulted my integrity, I told you about the Pearls.” 

Maria blinked owlishly, before crossing her arms. “You think I’m going to apologise when that is what you offered me?”

Richard shrugged, “I’m no muse-”

“Clearly! It's possible you’ve even been cursed by the muses!” 

Then, Maria went to the bookshelf and pulled one down at random, and began to read it. 

“They say the Pearls were lost forever, and only a true Moon Princess would be able to find them.”

“And do what? Let the Coeur De Noir have it so he can take over the valley?” Maria sent him a dry look. “What do the stories say about breaking the curse? Or what happens when you don’t?”

Richard shrugged. “Ma always said the Valley would be plunged into eternal darkness.”

Maria snapped the book closed. “Really? And you want this to come true?”

Richard shrugged. “Well, we’re not really in the Valley, so-”

“So you think you just won’t be affected?” Maria shook her head. “And how is the curse broken?”

“I think you have to throw the pearls into the sea, return them to Nature.” 

“Throw them into the sea?” Maria lifted a single haughty brow and went back to her book. “I’m sure that’s the best I will get out of you, so I apologise for the implication that you are riddled with disease.” 

“Accepted!” He said, with a bright grin on his face. 

Richard did his best to engage her in conversation, and she did her best to ignore him, but then he asked about London, and she couldn’t resist such a topic. 

“Sounds stuffy.” He said. 

“Stuffy! London is perfect in every way!” 

“Sure, but what about freedom?”

“Freedom?” Maria had taken position at her vanity, she was a good portion of the way through her book, even with Richard’s inane attempts at conversation. 

“It sounds like London doesn’t even have blue skies.” 

Maria sighed, “What does London need blue skies for?”

“Beauty.” 

Maria glared, and Richard smirked, but after that, he left her alone. 

At six o’clock, a servant came and dropped off two meals, though it seemed Robin did not have the opportunity to make her something more tolerable, for on the tray were two bowls of the awful stew. 

Richard tucked into it, but Maria set it aside. 

Richard told her a few - horrible and lewd - jokes to pass the time, even sang a song, though he was a terrible singer, and his voice cracked when he tried to sing notes that were out of his register. 

Then, at nine, the door opened and Robin slipped in. 

“Oh thank goodness you’re here! Please remove him at once!” Maria yelled over Richard, who’s singing only grew louder and louder, more shrill with each line. 

Richard laughed as Robin kicked him in his side. 

“Oh, she’s all yours Robin! Quite the handful.” Richard jumped to his feet as he stepped outside. 

Maria sighed in relief as she massaged her temples, and did not hear Robin approach her, his footsteps too quiet. 

“You didn’t eat-”

“Ah!” Maria jumped out of her skin, as Robin had spoken right into her ear. “Heavens above, you are the quietest person I have ever-!”

“You didn’t eat, Maria.”

“No, I refuse to eat that slop!” 

“It’s cold now, but I can ring up a servant to bring you-”

“Robin, please, I can’t eat that!”

“Why not?”

Maria crossed her arms, and when she dared look up at him, she, unfortunately, met his eyes. 

Soft and lovely, she always thought villains had cruel eyes, sharp and unyielding, it made looking up at Robin unbearable.

But, what Maria had yet to realize was just why Robin was so hard to look at. 

Looking at Robin made her heart pound, it made her tongue feel thick in her mouth, made her palms sweaty, and made her lose all thought, she could hardly argue with him in such conditions! 

Her symptoms only worsened since the day he had stolen her from her carriage. 

At first, there had been a slight stutter in her heart, a malignant palpitation she had attributed to the fact that she had been stolen. But time spent with Robin proved this to be false; it was not the adrenaline making her heart beat so fast, but Robin himself. 

When she had come face to face with the Coeur that morning in the dungeons, her heart had spiked, but calmed relatively quickly. And when she faced the other boys, Henry and Richard to be exact, her heart remained steady. 

Now, in that moment, with her sitting at the vanity, and him leaning over her shoulder, her heart was getting away from her, and she wondered if he could hear it. 

Maria had always been quick-witted, she was intelligent, and Ms. Heliotrope made sure to tell her as often as she was able. She always impressed her father’s company with how well she was able to keep up with their adult conversations. But she was rapidly losing composure whenever Robin was near, and her sharp tongue had stopped being so sharp. 

Then, were the matter of her palms, which had never acted in such an inappropriate manner before! She kept wiping them against her skirt, playing it off as if she were smoothing wrinkles, when in reality it was to dry them. 

This sickness only ever appeared in Robin’s presence. 

The disease? A simple crush. You figured that out, of course, but Maria was quite stubborn, and refused to admit to herself that she had fallen in such a way. 

Feelings were unladylike, afterall, it was best to always mean cool and calm, but how could she remain cool and calm when he was looking at her with his eyes! Such a soft expression, such a beautiful-

Maria found herself leaning forward, and stopped herself just short of making a fool of herself. She tore herself away from the vanity stool and strode over to the slim window, allowing the cool breeze to touch her face. 

She was surely going to die, her heart was going to keel over at this rate! Maria thought that would be good, a nice and easy escape to this torture. 

“It’s not that bad, Princess.” 

His voice made her skin prickle with gooseflesh! Perhaps she needed to lie down. Or kiss him.

No! Nope, no. Lying down would certainly do her wonders! 

Or even a walk outside, to get some fresh air and stretch her legs… 

“I’m quite tired, I think I’ll retire.”

“Sure.”

Maria looked over her shoulder, and he had shifted to sit against the vanity. “Leave.”

“Can’t.”

Maria’s mouth fell open. “Whatever do you mean? You don’t intend to stay here-”

“I do. You heard my father, we need to keep an eye on you.”

“I- I did not think- I need privacy!” 

“I’ll close my eyes.” 

She was close to crying again. 

Its not as if she wanted to, truely, but this was still far from an ideal situation. 

And of course, Robin caught on quite quick to her change in mood. 

After all, he had come down with the same bug. 

It can be very contagious, at times, and he just so happened to be patient zero. 

“Ah gee.” He said. “Your soup is colder than my dearly departed mother, why don't I go down and get you another bowl? Can’t go to bed on an empty stomach.”

Then, Robin picked up the bowl and marched out of the room. 

In the hallway, with the door shut between them, he cursed himself. He knew he was being foolish, since the moment he got down on his knees and picked her strawberries. He wasn’t in the right state of mind. 

He would never admit why, however. 

The De Noirs were many things: they were rude, degenerates, lawbreakers, crude, spiteful and many, many other wondrous qualities. What De Noirs were not, however, were lovesick fools. 

They let the Merryweather’s have those sticky feelings. 

It had been said that the Coeur De Noir had not shed a single tear at his first wife’s funeral, and took another bride before the mourning period was through. Then, sighed in irritation when she died not shortly after. His current consort was the newest in a long line of consorts because he aptly refused to marry any more women who would simply go off and die on him. 

His father had even told him, countless times, that once he reached a marriageable age, a betrothal would not be too far behind. 

That’s what the De Noir’s did. Fathers argued, traded chickens and goats (sometimes cows, if she were beautiful enough) and the result was the furtherance of the Clan. No messy feelings involved. 

No hammering hearts, or pounding heads, no slack-jaws or bitten lips, no weak knees, no sweaty palms, no longing stares, no love. 

But hey, maybe that’s why they were so bitter. 

Actually, no. 

From what Robin had been told about love, it was a holy feeling, the song of muses and old gods, a power that made you feel powerful, only, Robin felt anything but powerful. 

He felt a rotten mess! In utter disarray! How was this supposed to feel good? He felt awful! Sick, mostly. Each second made him more and more irritated with himself. 

Maria was no better. She knew her time was limited, but she couldn’t help but stare listlessly at the door he had disappeared though. 

It was honestly kind of pathetic. 

It’s even morally correct, when you think about it. 

He will always be the one that kidnapped her. So, whatever Maria was feeling in her heart, needed to stop. 

And, Maria reminded herself, she was far too young for such feelings! Perhaps at sixteen, the youngest she could be out in society, but that would not be for two years and a month. 

Maria shook her head, to get a hold of herself. She had only so much time, and getting undressed was bound to be tricky. 

Then, Maria paused. 

There was no one watching her. 

And, if she wanted to, she could sneak out through the tunnels.

They had given her fresh candles, and matches, so it would not be dark. But, she wouldn’t know where she was going. The tunnels twisted and turned, she had not seen it, but she felt it with each step as Robin guided her. 

When Robin returned, Maria was dressed in a plain white nightgown, brushing her hair to braid.

“Here.” He said, placing the fresh bowl next to her. “Try it. It’s not as bad as you think.”

“What’s in it?” Maria asked, leaning away from it as it stank up her air. 

“Cream, mushrooms, some other vegetables, carrots, I think. Fish. We add to it continuously. So its always changing, but those are the basics. Go on, you owe me.”

Maria looked up at him in disbelief. Of all the arrogant things to say! 

He was right, of course, but Maria was stubborn. 

“I didn’t have to leave the room, could’ve just turned my back, and who knows, maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to give you the same-” 

But whatever he was about to say was cut off, as Maria shut him up by taking the spoon and taking a mouthful. 

His face turned… earnest, and it seemed he was eager for her reaction. 

Maria had plugged her nose in a rather childish maneuver, but once it was inside of her mouth, the jarring and repugnant smell disappeared. 

And to her great disappointment, it was good. 

“It’s alright.” She shrugged, before taking another spoonful.

“Just alright? Oh no, that won’t do.” Robin smirked. “You love it. I can read it on your face.” 

Maria did the polite thing and glared at him. “You must be illiterate then.” And she took a third spoonful. 

“You can’t hide from me, Princess.”

“I can and I will!” Maria took the bowl of soup and moved away from the vanity, despite it being her only table, she successfully turned her back on Robin, and scarfed the rest of it down. 

“My my, is that the sound of a dainty princess of a glutinous beast?” 

“You have some nerve!” She cried out, wiping her chin as it dripped with cream. “If I were in London, and I met a boy like you, I’d-!” 

“You’d what?” 

Maria turned back around, and there it was again. That earnest expression that seemed so real, he almost had her convinced that he was hanging off her every word. 

“I’d set Ms. Heliotrope on you, for one thing.”

“Ooh, not Ms. Heliotrope.” He held up his hands as if in a fright. 

Maria rolled her eyes before setting the empty bowl on the vanity. “I’ve gotten enough bruises from her ruler not to take her lightly. And she’d do much worse to you!” 

“I’m sure she would, Princess. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“Why? I’m not tired, all I’ve done is walk in circles in this little room! It's hardly enough to make one sleepy.” 

Robin shrugged, “Or, you could talk to me more.”

Maria feigned a yawn, “Goodness, it's getting so late, I must retire.” 

☾

Maria nearly screamed when she woke up.

Well, she did, she just didn’t scream as loud as she could have. 

The main problem was the boy hanging over her. It was not the boy she was thinking endlessly about (who had even snuck into her dreams) but a different boy. The crabby, sullen looking boy who Maria wanted nothing to do with.

But, of course, he had his head craned over her bed, poking her face with a rather concerned (as concerned as this boy could get) expression slightly pushing at his features. 

David had come in two hours ago, at seven, and was promptly concerned about why the Moon Princess had not yet risen. 

It was entirely the other boy’s (the one she was thinking endlessly about) fault. Despite Maria tucking herself into bed at a proper hour, and Robin settling into a corner near the door (a position that allowed him to keep an eye on Maria and both doors) to try and get as much sleep as he felt comfortable with, neither did.

They simply talked. 

Chatted. 

Conversed. 

The way two people who do not know each other, yet feel as if they have known each other all their lives do. Wait, scratch that, not two people who feel as if they have known each other already, rather, it was very much like two people who had been waiting for each other their whole lives, finally meeting in the most unexpected way imaginable. 

Neither would admit it, but they wanted to know every last detail about each other. 

When Maria did fall asleep, it was in the wee hours of the morning. 

So now, the crabby and sullen David was concerned she might have died. 

After all, it was well past the waking time for most of the De Noirs. 

When Maria screamed, David screamed. 

Maria rolled away and fell out of bed, while David jumped back and pulled his dagger. 

Which led to Robin (who, after such little sleep, had retired to his room across the hall) bursting in, only half awake. 

“Don’t kill her, David!” Robin shouted, at the same time Maria shrieked, “What is wrong with all of you!”, at the same time that David cursed out, “Jesus, I thought you were dead!”

It took several moments to get everyone calmed down, but once they did, Maria made them both leave the room so she could change. 

David began to disagree, but Robin simply pulled him along. 

“I don’t think she should be left alone-” David stated, before being cut off as Maria entered the hallway. Somehow managing to dress herself, style her hair, and accessorize in the minute Robin and David were in the hall. 

“You believe in the curse as well, I assume?” She asked David with an unamused set expression. 

“‘Course.”

“Magic Pearls? Moon Princess? Decimation of the Valley?”

“All that and more.” 

Maria sighed, “I require fresh air and sunlight.”

David cocked his head like a bird. “Sorry, what did you just say?”

Maria jutted out her chin. “A walk. Out of doors. Before I deteriorate inside.” 

“I- You- Robin!” 

Robin shrugged, his hands lifted in defeat as he turned back to his room and shut the door. 

Maria turned to walk down the hall, the long white gown trailing behind her on the stone, her boots clicking with each measured step. “Come along! Before I figure out how to escape!” 

David cursed under his breath before chasing after her. 

☾

The Coeur De Noir could practically taste the Valley. 

Soon, it would be his! He had everything: the Moon Princess, loyal minions, a Dulac. 

Well, nearly everything. 

He no longer had his most beloved daughter, or the Moon Pearls, and he feared his son would be lost, just as his daughter had been, but he did not let those things bring him down! The Destruction of the MErryweathers was close at hand! And he would have a front row seat for the closing act!

He was flying Odile, sending her out and back again so she could spread her wings when he heard her voice again. 

Her voice. 

The Moon Princess.

Who was supposed to be locked up!

The Coeur turned around just in time to see Maria and the young DuBois boy strolling - strolling! - through the courtyard. 

Odile screeched just in time for the Coeur to raise his arm for her to land on. 

Then, he watched as his son ran to catch up to them both. It was clear he had just risen as he wasn’t even wearing his hat or any of his scarves. (Three, the boy wore three scarves, and while he had told him that was too many scarves, the boy was at that age where he just refused to listen to sense!) 

Well, he would put an end to this!

“Good morrow, Princess!” He shouted, when he was a few steps behind them, he was hoping to startle her, but to his surprise, it was the boys who jumped. 

The Moon Princess simply turned back around and curtsied to him. “Le Coeur.”

Oh! Her accent was perfect. 

That was besides the point. 

“It’s a lovely morning, sir, and I decided to take a walk.”

“You decided?” He asked, almost- amused. 

Maria nodded shallowly. “Your accommodations are much more suitable now, but as the room is little more than a stone box; I found I lacked for air.”

“Oh, and we can’t have you lacking for anything!” He said, his voice a false sincerity. 

“Sir, if I may?” And Maria stepped forward, despite the boy’s efforts to hold her back. 

“Please.” The Coeur, curious as to what she had to say.

“I do not think you and your lot are particularly good kidnappers, or guards for that matter.” 

The Couer stopped himself from chuckling, but a faint smile rose on his mouth. Hopefully, his beard was enough to hide it. “No?”

“No, sir, I doubt very much that you have ever done this before.”

Then, he did chuckle. “You would be correct in your assumption. Tell me, how did you come to such a conclusion?”

He began to walk forward, and Maria took her cue to walk with him. 

“For one, my hands were tied in front of me, rather than behind my back. Second-”

His son and the DuBois boy trailed behind him, and he could feel their nervous energy. The Coeur fed off it, enjoying their discomfort more than anything, but at the same time, he could not help but feel the young lady’s gravitational pull. 

Perhaps, because of her predicament, she felt she no longer had to grace them with kindness and consideration, as the Coeur knew most ladies restricted themselves to. She was haughty, defiant, rude, and had no issue complaining to him about how he ran his castle. 

“-they looked at me as if I were insane! But, I would expect a servant would know how to dust the high ceilings! My father’s servants certainly knew how to complete their duties without issue.” She held her chin high, and kept her eyes forward, her steps were not too quick, and he had slowed to match her. She was a small little thing, but she reminded him so much of his late wife, he could not help but feel sentimental. 

“Lads,” He said after a moment, “I am sure you have something more important to do other than dawdle.” 

The Coeur watched as both Robin and David’s eyes widened. 

“Sir, I’m watching over the Princess-”

“Yes, I have it handled, now go! Make yourselves useful.” He dismissed them, and turned back to Maria as if nothing had happened. “Do go on, my dear.”

Maria smiled and did just as he instructed. “I suppose I could tell you how you ought to improve, but that would only make me suffer more, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it would. Princess, why don’t you come with me?” He said, before turning sharply and returning to the castle. 

“Oh, I was not ready to return to my quarters-”

“No, no, my dear, I have something else to show you.”

Maria gave him a discerning look, before she nodded. Then, the Coeur De Noir offered her his arm, and she took it. 

Once inside, the Coeur led her to a small room that had been added decades before. 

While the Castle was falling apart, this had been the Coeur De Noir’s attempt to make it more livable for his wife. 

His second wife.

The one he loved. 

His first wife had been an arrangement. Just as all Coeur’s are tasked to find a wife before the age of twenty-five, his father had found him a suitable partner. 

But, she was not the woman he had loved. 

“Princess, if I may tell you a story?”

Maria sighed, “I have heard enough fairytales to last me a lifetime.”

“Oh no! This one is true, I promise.”

Maria’s head whipped around to his and an odd look grew on her face. “Very well.”

“You may think me very old to have a son as young as I do.”

Maria shook her head, “No, sir, I know many old men with young brides.” 

The Coeur laughed, as she had said it with such disdain. “My first wife, I took as a young man, and she produced for me a beautiful daughter.”

“Loveday?”

The Coeur froze, but cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Did she pass?”

The Coeur’s eyes fell to the floor rather shamefully. No, she was not dead, but there was no hope that he would ever see her again, so she may as well have been. “As you may well know, I need a son to one day lead the De Noir Clan.”

The Coeur paused before a wooden door, the iron wrought with his own hands, the door carved with ivy he had carved himself. He watched as Maria’s eyes devoured the door, and he smiled, just as his lovely Jenny Wren had. 

He opened the door and ushered her inside the barely used greenhouse.

It was kept, yes, but rarely used. Just by himself and Robin. 

Maria gasped, and her hand fell away from his arm. She walked in and brushed her hands against the many blooming plants, smelling roses and admiring the fountain.

“When my first wife passed, I took a second.” The Coeur sat down on the bench before the fountain. “She was the daughter of the trapper, and had not taken a husband. She had grown old, past a marriageable age, and took on her father’s business when he himself became decrepit.”

Maria turned, her hands behind her back, as she gave him her attention. It was rather sweet, and the Coeur recognized the return of the London Lady. And the fact that Maria was, perhaps, showing him some respect. “She was my childhood sweetheart, I loved her, but she was not my chosen bride, as her status was too low.”

“So, you married her after the passing of your first wife?”

The Coeur smiled and nodded. 

“How? If she was still only a lowly trapper. And a spinster!” 

The Coeur laughed. “My father had passed, leaving me Coeur, and I was able to do whatever I wanted.” 

Maria grinned. 

“I built her this green house as a courting gift. She was pregnant within the first year of our marriage, but she did not survive the birth.”

Maria’s grin faded, and she came to sit beside him. 

The Coeur was old, and not used to pity, but he accepted it from her. 

“That must have been terribly hard on you.” Maria said.

“It was.” The Coeur patted her hand. “But, she gave me my son, and I never took another wife.”

Maria looked back out to the greenhouse, the revelation opened her eyes and she took it with a fresh perspective. 

The Coeur told her many more stories about his wife, and the relationship they had kept over the years, the secret letters, the acceptance that they would never marry. The guilt he felt when his first wife passed and he felt nothing but joy. 

It was perhaps not the afternoon he should have spent. Talking with a prisoner - she was right, they were terrible at this - and showing her the parts of his heart that were still bleeding and red, and not charred and blackened, but he did. 

☾

Maria’s days began to dissolve into each other. 

She woke to David, who was traded out for Henry, and then Richard. She was able to bully David into taking her wherever she wanted in the Castle. She had since discovered a library, the kitchens, the grand hall (where the Coeur De Noir invited her to sit with them at lunch), a grand ballroom, and a music room. No matter where she was, the boys were always on time for their rotations, and she found she didn’t quite mind them. David was sharp and clever, and could keep up with her intellectual remarks. Henry was kind, and easy to trick, all she had to do was pout, and she had him wrapped around her finger. Richard was all talk, and all Maria had to do was talk bigger, and it seemed he liked to get in a spot of trouble every now and then. 

Robin came at night, with stew, or strawberries, or fresh greens, or bread. He left her alone for fifteen minutes to change for the night, and when he returned she was settled between her sheets. He settled in for the night as well, but each day he inched closer and closer until he was right beside her bed, just a hair’s width away. 

From there, they talked and talked and talked until their throats were dry. 

The Coeur De Noir, when he was able, took a shine to Maria, and led her around the Castle, showing the tapestries, the broken stained-glass windows that once displayed their proud history, and the hall of portraits of all the Coeurs and their families. 

Maria had argued with the cook about the smell of the stew, she made sure at least two maids returned to her room by the end of the week to clean it once more, she had even gone toe to toe with Dulac about how he shouldn’t bring a loaded pistol inside. 

And soon, it was the end of July, and August came creeping in. 

[incorrect-splatoon]

Shiver: Guys why is there a STOP sign in the appartement ?

Big man: Ay, Ay (I don't know)

Shiver: Who take it ?

Frye: I don't know

Shiver : Where this came from ? ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE IS A STREET SOMEWHERE IN INKTOPOLIS THAT HAS NO STOP SIGN ANYMORE !?

[natsarrownecklacx]

Subby Wanda fic anyone? Yes I did write it while I was half asleep but I feel like I do some of my best brain rot writing that way

[kidge-planet]

Yk, I had something in mind since I saw the Mario movie: what do you think about a version of the Peach song but with Pidge? Sang by keef ( or whoever you ship pidge with) Lmao

"pidge... You're so cool... And with my {enter something here idk} we're gonna rule...

PIDGE! understand! I'm gonna love you 'til the very end!

Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, Pidge

Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, Pidge...

I LOVE YOU!!

Lance, hunk, and Shiro too... A thousand group of sentries couldn't keep me from you...

Tech wiz Pidge, at the end of the line...

I'LL MAKE YOU MINE!

HOOOOOOO!"

[147poundsofteenwolf]

Inspired by the Stydia love confession in Teen Wolf. IFKYK.

I Didn’t Say it Back

Buck:

Rubble surrounded Buck on all sides. Big pieces of highway tented over him but luckily they did not crush him. If there was an aftershock, and there surely would be, he might run out that luck. There was just enough space for him to move around so that he could get to his radio. “Mayday mayday! This is Firefighter Evan Buckley. I’m trapped…under the rubble…” His heart started to race and he felt like no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get enough air. He felt like he was back under the fire truck trying desperately to save his best friend who lay bleeding out on the other side. “I need…I need help”.

Eddie:

Eddie is trying to figure out a way to get to Hen and Chim who were trapped in the back of the ambulance. The high way had split in two, sending the ambulance straight into the side of a van and the gurney straight into Chim’s abdomen. The pressure of the gurney was stopping the bleeding so they were afraid to move it, not that they really could e even if they really wanted to. Eddie was standing outside the ambulance when he heard Buck’s voice come over the radio. He was trapped under rubble somewhere. “Buck?! Where are you?!”

“I-I don’t know” Bucks voice replied back almost immediately.

Eddie could tell he was in distressing, panicking almost. He was hyperventilating and his voice was shaky.

“Buck breathe, it’s going to be ok, I’m going to find you”.

“Eddie, if-if there’s another aftershock it’s over. I need to tell you something.”

“No, you can tell me when I see you again, you’re gonna be fine”.

“Eddie just, I need to say it, just let me say it…..I love you. I always have. And I just need you to know that in case-“ there was loud shudder and a bang and then the line went dead.

Eddie stood there shocked and speechless. Buck loved him. Buck felt the same way he Eddie did about him. It was only recently, after his little talk with Pepa, that he really began to realize how he felt about Buck. Buck loved him and now he might be gone. Happiness and absolute heartbreak swirled inside him. “Buck!” He screamed over the radio. No answer. He was gone.

Several Hours later after all the chaos is over.

Eddie:

When Bobby told Eddie that Buck was alive he almost fell to his knees.

“He’s in the triage tent. You should go-“

Before Bobby could even finish Eddie was running towards the tent. “Buck!” He shouted as he neared it. Buck emerged, covered in dust but ok, and Eddie stopped a couple feet in front of him. They stared into each others eyes for a moment. Then: “I didn’t say it back” Eddie half sobbed.

And Buck knew then, that Eddie felt the same way. “You don’t have to”. And then he was stepping forward and their lips crashed together, a perfect fit. Like they were meant for each other. Everything around them stopped. They were finally one.

[haveihitanerve]

Sugar Daddy

“I thought you might like your own.” Bruce said uncomfortably from where he stood on Stephanie’s left in the bat cave. She stared opened mouthed at the new motorcycle that stood there, sleek and shiny and obnoxiously purple. “You seemed to really love Jason’s. I can return it of course, if you don’t-“ Stephanie cut off his rambling by slamming into him in a hug. Bruce started but after a second hugged her back. Stephanie pulled away, vibrating with excitement. “Oh my gods B. You’re like- actually my sugar daddy.” He pulled a face. “Without the sexual innuendo.” She added. Bruce let out a long, deep suffering sigh, but she noticed some of the tension had eased from his shoulders. “So… you like it?” Steph grinned. “Like it? I love it. And the color.” Bruce smirked. “I figured.” “Thanks for buying it for me daddy.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “I promise to repay you.” She winked. Bruce closed his eyes for a short second in regret. “Why did I ever decide having kids was a good idea?” He grumbled. Stephanie let out an over dramatic gasp. “Excuse me? Since when am I adopted?!?” Bruce raised an eyebrow, looking at her. “You mean you aren’t? You have your own room here and I have a headache induced by your presence.” Steph raised her eyebrow back. “You’re telling me that’s all the qualifications of being your child? Then half the justice league would live here.” Bruce chuckled, rolling his eyes. “That’s not all the qualifications. But it’s a big one.” He shifted uneasily. Steph smiled slightly. “Sorry daddio. But I’d rather not be adopted.” She waved her hand. “All that legal bizz and having to deal with horribly wealthy judgy people.” She shook her head. “No thanks.” Bruce’s smile seemed strained. “I could- unofficially adopt you.” He offered. “Only if you like.” He hastened to add. “It would just place me as your legal guardian. And we could do it quietly. No one would know besides us. And you wouldn’t have to attend galas or anything.” He cleared his throat. “Only if you like of course.” Steph gaped at him. “Oh. My. Gods. Bruce Wayne are you really adoption proposing to me right now???” Bruce smirked, some tension leaving him as she slipped back into their usual banter, and got on one knee, pulling a random ring from somewhere. “Will you, Stephanie Brown, accept my humble plea and officially become my daughter?” Despite the teasing tone and joking manner in which he said it, Steph still felt tears gathering in her eyes. “Yes.” She whispered. Bruce stood and slowly walked over, slipping the ring on her finger. “You’ve been claimed.” She couldn’t help but squeeze out, mimicking Bruce’s deep voice. He laughed, wrapping an arm around her in a half hug. “Welcome.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Officially,” he corrected. “To the family.”