#I actually have a legitimate. alright let’s not use words we don’t mean

[erotetica]

ik the Genovese sailed direct to Jerusalem, but I can prove Nicolo went the long way, bc you know he doesn’t think a pilgrimage counts unless you’re starving outside Antioch, gnawing nettles. Yusuf wakes up after his first death and he can’t think of anything flowery or existential abt his new rival, just ‘who microwaved this muppet’

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 169 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: cutting the Kolkwitzia amabilis in my garden.

JON: "Some fears don’t need to be intensified. Only manifested." Hm, insufficient or blatantly negligent fire escapes are so common in apartment buildings… Often seen escape routes get affected negatively by tenants, leaving shoes and all kinds of obstacles in the hallway. Of course this in turn can be a consequence of too many people crammed into one flat because otherwise they can’t afford living there. What I absolutely hate, is when they do that in the hospital I work at. There is no excuse. Leaving wheelchairs or even beds in the hallway even though we have fire prevention and fire action training every year and every year it’s said, that this is not allowed.

Oh this episode shows a dark side of Jon. He didn’t tell Martin what was the deal with the fire, probably hoping he wouldn’t ask (since he’s getting a bit cagy there) because he wants to revenge himself on Jude.

This conversation really shows Alex‘s VA talent again. He‘s so good at portraying fear, panic, you can hear he’s on the verge of tears.

MARTIN:(overlapping) "I know! I know, okay, I just – (bracing exhale) Look, I j,just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever." JON: "Is that – a joke?" They really gotta work on their understanding of humour. Neither one knows when the other is making a joke or not.

MARTIN: (a bit faster, a bit shaky) "No, no, okay? I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!" Hm, would love to hear what Jon would have thought about this. Like, thanks I know what it’s like to get properly burned... His hand is probably a hot mess, if you excuse the pun xD 

JON: "Alright. If you really don’t want to do this, w-we can go another way." MARTIN: (somewhat smaller) "Really?" JON: "Really. My revenge… (long sigh) Well, let’s just say you’re more important." After lots and lots of talking how much Martin hates this and is afraid Jon caves in. That is good to see. If it weren’t for what’s following…

JON: "Maybe? It’s… (inhale) Like I said, I can’t see the future. It wouldn’t free them, if that’s what you’re asking. ‘Free’ doesn’t really exist in this place." MARTIN: "Apart from us." One of those instances where Martin gets acutely aware of their privilege. Also, not sure what Jon's deal is here. That hesitant "maybe?". Does he legitimately not know or does he want to stay bit vague so Martin would be on board with going in. (Couldn't Jon just know how the merry-go-round is doing since he has destroyed the Not!Them?) I mean he's at least honest about the fact that's it not freeing the people trapped in here.

JON: "I – Oh, right: I want revenge on Jude Perry. I want to… smite her. Make her feel what – (sigh) What all her victims felt. But I’m not willing to force you to suffer for it." MARTIN: "Okay. So it’s – (brief pause) I have to choose, do I?" JON: "Or we could sit here." MARTIN: "…No. No, I’m not going to choose; I don’t, I don’t think that’s a fair decision to put on me. It’s your revenge; your choice, not mine." It’s good that Jon hears Martin’s feelings on this and actually tries to respect them. But yeah, putting that decision on Martin is complicated. It’s once again a shitty situation in which nobody wins (except that I think Jon also didn’t win. At least not in the way he wanted. But at least he’s one step closer to realizing that this is doing nothing).

[SILENCE.] JON: "Fine. We go in." I like the long pause. Jon‘s inner fight about what to do is almost audible. He probably thought if Martin really, reaaaally doesn’t want this he would have said so. As he said, he's not forcing Martin to suffer for it. And Martin bounced it back to Jon. Still, he’s putting his desire for revenge before Martin…

"Home. Such a simple word. Home – not house, not dwelling, not residence or address, not domicile or flat or lodging or abode or apartment or property or accommodation. Home." How many synonyms xD

"And home is where that heart can be hurt most severely, because within that place of safety, the warm and welcoming embrace of the cramped and well-trod floors whose layout has ingrained itself into your soul, there you are most vulnerable." A lot of people are not aware how much their home means safety. Even when things happen which limits people in the capacity of feeling at peace at their home (noise, aggressive neighbours etc.) Still, a lot of people underestimate what it can do with you when your home gets violated in one of those most horrible ways. Break-ins, catastrophes...

Usually I have problems following statements which ramble a lot about general premises, but here I find it super interesting. How that first part is just generally putting it all into words. What a home means, what's it to you, which bad things can happen to it, how you become aware of said bad things etc.

"Sabina senses it, feels it drawing near." Okay, people who also had statement people with your name, how did it make you feel? Because it's such a jump scare every single time for me. It's also, I'm not used to hearing my name in media and when there actually is a character (Star Wars, Miraculous), it's always anglicized version with the silent E at the end. But the way Jonny pronounces the A at Sabina, it sounds so much like the German pronunciation of my name. I of course have no reference, but I also feel it's worse because it's one of the S5 statements and they are a lot closer to rl than some supernatural shit. I don't know, any other experiences with this?

MARTIN: (overlapping, coming into focus) "Jon, you idiot! Please go back!" Why "you idiot"? Also is it really "please go back" or is it "please come back"? The official transcripts doesn't have this line at all, it's just Martin yelling "Jon!" again and again. "Pls come back" would make more sense because he wants him to snap out of his Eyepocalypse Guidesona. Maybe that "idiot" because I'd guess Jon lost all sense of his surroundings and marched ever deeper into the inferno.

I know there’s the debate about Martin slapping Jon awake. He already did it in MAG 160 and it will happen one more time I think? Complicated matter, it’s such a trope to slap someone awake, but it being a trope doesn’t make it okay. There is also the matter that this is an audio medium, how would you hear, say, shaking someone to snap them out of it? The olfactory sense is really sufficient, I think? But very rarely that people have something for that to use. Water would be audible, but there wasn’t really any at their disposal. Perhaps in MAG 160..? But yeah, a slap is audible in a way, that people know what’s going on.

JUDE: "Fancy seeing you both here. (sarcasm) To what, exactly, do I owe the pleasure – the honor – of being graced by the great and powerful Archivist, harbinger of this new world and his, mm… (deliberately obtuse) …valet?" Oh god, I hate that mocking tone of Jude xD Also funny to see how everyone addresses Martin. Of course they don't know him, they're all like "who's that, what makes him so special that he's traveling with the Archivist?"

JUDE: What’s wrong? Scared of a little flame? (delighted) Oh, you are, aren’t you?" [SHE LAUGHS.] JUDE: "How pathetic." MARTIN: (high) "Screw you!" JON: "Leave him alone." Ah yes, antagonizing Martin, not good. Still, don't know how much that actually does. Cause Simon... But also, Simon was never actively antagonizing Martin in front of Jon, he always seems rather polite and very funny.

JUDE: "Oh, I see. I get it. You finally get a sniff of power, and the first thing you do is try to settle some old scores. (enjoying this) Play the big man; get off on good old-fashioned petty revenge." JON: (not in the mood for games) "I’d have thought that was a mindset you would appreciate." She's not wrong, and he knows it.

JUDE: "I’m… happy in this world. I belong here. And so do you." Jude has some very difficult but kinda true statements... The Archivist does belong here, the fear of others feels good to him. But with Jon it's not that easy.

MARTIN: (half screaming) "Just DIE already!" JUDE: "You’re not – better – (audibly struggling) than – me!" Also kind more of Martin's dark side. This overall stance of the revenge arc didn't really surprise me, especially not after S4. But directly shouting as someone "Just die already"... Also Jude again... Probably got a lot into Jon's head. Is he better? He surely has caused less pain on purpose than Jude did. I refuse to contribute the Eyepocalypse to Jon, he didn't know, he was tricked into this like all the others. I don't fault him for not wanting to die and also not for not immediately wanting to gouge his eyes out especially when he knew Martin wouldn't follow him and he therefore would have lost the last bit of influence/protection/support/whatever he could offer Martin. The thing about his statement victims is complicated as it seems that he does kind of need them to survive. Old statements wouldn't have done it forever. We saw in MAG 155 that the Fears want maximum pain out of all this... Love it, the entire moral dilemma! It's super interesting!

JON: "She’s gone." MARTIN: "The fires are still here. Doesn’t look like much has changed." JON: "No. I suppose not." I would love to know if there was a thought behind this, if it was taken into account if Jon knew it wouldn't do anything, or if it's open, like it didn't matter for the character growth/narrative here.

@a-mag-a-day

[theresawritesstuff]

“Oh don’t worry, this blood isn’t mine.”

(I vaguely remembered Midge mentioning an aunt in one of her sets and this is where I ended up)

"What are you doing here?"

Midge looked up from her magazine as Boise approached the little off Broadway theater she'd been waiting by.

"Just wanted to see if you'd actually show up," she replied cheerily.

She'd run into him at the Stage Deli a few days ago. 

After a little bit of friendly pestering and an offer to buy him lunch, he'd told her the Wolford had gotten raided again, forcing them to close up shop. This time for good.

The cops they'd been paying off had been transferred to different precincts, and the remaining lot were decidedly less inclined to take a pay off.

And so Boise was out of a job.

Which is what brought them here.

They hadn't exactly been friends, but Midge had developed a sort of fondness for the gruff stage manager during their time working together and she felt compelled to lend him a hand.

So she'd tipped him off to an up-and-coming musical she'd heard was in need of a stage manager.

"Ready to head in?" she asked.

He let out a tired sigh. "Alright, fine."

Her heels clicked quickly against the pavement as she followed him up the steps, trying to keep pace with his lanky strides as they made their way into the theatre.

"Did you bring your resume?" she prompted.

"Nope," he answered, pushing the backstage door open.

She gave him a look. "Boise."

"I don't have one."

Her brow furrowed.

"What do you mean you don't have a resume?"

"I've never needed one before," he admitted brusquely.

Her steps faltered briefly as she took in this new information.

"You've never had a job interview before?"

"Nope."

"How'd you get hired at the Wolford?" she wondered, picking up the pace to catch up with him.

"Snuck in through the service entrance as a teenager, pretended to be a stage hand so I didn't get kicked out," he said, not bothering to look at her. "The guy in charge at the time thought I did an okay job, slapped some cash in my hand at the end of the day and said 'see you tomorrow'. So I kept coming back. Followed as the operation bounced around the city. Eventually I got promoted."

"And that's the only job you've ever had?" 

"No, I worked for my uncle's bakery before then. But my references back then were my mother and his mother so…" 

He looked over at her with a shrug and a smirk before finally coming to a halt.

"I'm not gonna get this, am I?" he asked dejectedly.

Midge exhaled. 

"You don't know that," she said, attempting to be comforting.

He shook his head. "I'm not a professional kind of guy, Midge. Let's face it, I've been working in an illegal strip club for the past two decades. I don't have any legitimate references."

"Yes you do. You've got me."

"You?" he wondered doubtfully.

"Hey! I've been making a good name for myself over at Rockefeller, thank you very much. My word isn't nothing."

"Okay." He held up his hands in surrender. "You're right. Sorry. I'm still used to thinking of you as the one telling dick jokes, not someone with credentials."

"Well that's a step up from 'hey you with the hair,'" she smirked.

She stepped over to maternally fix his tie.

"You're a good worker, Boise. You're tough. You're loyal. And you can keep your head when things go sideways. You can do this."

She patted his arm, satisfied with his appearance.

"Now come on. Tits up! Let's go find who's in charge around here."

His face twisted in confusion as he followed after her. "Mine or yours?"

She shook her head, ignoring him as they came across a curly haired woman tidying pairs of dance shoes in the wings, the dancers for the show rehearsing on stage just beyond her.

"Excuse me! Hi. We're here for the stage manager position. We heard you were holding an open call for interviews," Midge explained as she approached.

The older woman looked up, staring at her for a long moment before her hands went to her face.

"Oh my stars…" she breathed. "Pigeon? My little Midgey Pidgey, is that you?"

Midge blinked, looking at the woman before her. 

It couldn't be…

"Aunt Bertha?" 

"Oh my! Oh Midgey, dear, it is so good to see you!" her aunt exclaimed, hugging her tightly before pulling back to look at her with a smile. "Turn around! Let me look at you."

Midge let the older woman turn her this way and that, hardly believing her eyes. "I feel like I haven't seen you since I was a kid."

"Well, that's because you haven't, dear," her aunt chuckled, a hint of melancholy in her voice. "Oh, but look at you. All grown up. I see you get your taste from your mother."

"She taught me well," Midge replied.

Her expression fell as she noticed the pair of dance slippers slung over her aunt's shoulder. "Wait, is that blood?"

"Hm?" Aunt Bertha glanced down briefly. "Oh, so it is. Don't worry, these aren't mine."

She turned to call over her shoulder at rehearsal going on behind her.

"Whichever of you ladies is bleeding, go sit down now! This place came with a security deposit and we're not losing it to bloody floorboards."

She shook her head tiredly, turning back to Midge. "Dancers…Some of these little chicky doodles want the spotlight a little too much if you ask me."

"What are you doing in New York? I thought you were living in Toronto," Midge wondered.

Her aunt nodded. "I was, dear, but a friend of mine has been working on a script for ages and finally talked Lester into doing the score. So naturally I volunteered to choreograph and, well, here we are! But tell me about you! Your father said in his letters you went to Bryn Mawr? Got married? Is this your fella?"

"Ew, no," she blurted, Boise echoing his disgust at the suggestion right along with her, finally shaking out of his shell shock.

For he truly had been shocked speechless, she realized now, at the sight of Aunt Bertha.

"I'm sorry…" he said, finding his voice. "This is your aunt?"

"Can't you see the resemblance? I always said she took after me," Aunt Bertha beamed, hooking an arm around her niece's shoulder.

"Your aunt is Bertie Holloway? The Bertie Holloway?"

"That's me, love."

"Bertie Holloway is your aunt?" Boise asked again as if he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah? Why?" Midge wondered.

Aunt Bertha smiled to herself. 

"A little young to be a fan of mine, aren't you sweetie?" she drawled up at him.

Midge could almost swear she saw him blush.

Boise! The guy who never once batted an eye at the mostly naked women parading around day in day out, blushing at her aunt's attention.

"Ma'am, I'm humbled to make your acquaintance," Boise said, taking her hands in his, practically bowing before her. "You are still to this day a legend of the cabaret circles in this town. The stories about the performances you held at the Gaslight back in the day. Both you and Lester! To have been a fly on the wall…"

"Oh, aren't you just a doll," Aunt Bertha laughed, tickled by his fawning.

Midge blinked, watching the display. "Gaslight? What are you talking about?"

"I'm surprised anyone still remembers my old speakeasy days," Aunt Bertha waved modestly.

"Remembers?!" Boise laughed. "Ms. Holloway, they're still auctioning off your posters for top dollar!"

"Would someone mind cluing me in?" Midge wondered impatiently.

Aunt Bertha smiled softly, remembering herself.

"I used to perform here and there back in the day. We had a pretty popular act, your uncle and I. Your father played with us too a time or two. Has he kept up with it? His music?"

"Y-yeah. He plays all the time. He's giving my kids lessons," Midge said, trying to picture Papa in a speakeasy.

"And is he well? Your father? Happy?" her aunt asked earnestly.

"I think he is," Midge replied. "He's writing now. I think he really enjoys it."

"That's good. Really good."

Aunt Bertha sniffed, turning back to Boise. "So you're a stage manager?"

"Y-yes, Ma'am."

"Hm. Do you sing?"

"Only in the shower."

"Too bad." She smirked. "I'm trying to replace our tenor. But we do need a manager yet and you seem like a sweet young man and a friend of my Midgey's to boot. Come on, I'll introduce you to Jeffrey, our director. Midge dear, if you've got time I'd love to catch up with you a bit more."

Midge nodded, checking her watch.

"Sure. I've gotta pick up my kids from school later but I can stay for a bit."

"Wonderful. I'll just be a minute."

Aunt Bertha wandered off, arm and arm with Boise.

"So what was your name dear?"

"It's um. It's Nathan. But everyone calls me Boise," he admitted shyly.

"Lovely town. Not much of a name for a playbill. Would you mind singing a little something just for me, Nathan?"

"Okay."

Midge shook her head.

"Nathan?" she wondered incredulously under her breath.

"She's always known how to charm 'em, hasn't she?" a man's raspy voice chuckled.

Midge turned, finding a black man of Bertha's vintage smiling fondly at her aunt as she ushered Boise off.

"I'm afraid I don't really remember," she admitted.

He nodded to himself. "I suppose you wouldn't. I don't think we ever got the chance to meet properly."

He held out a hand. "Lester Holloway."

Midge blinked, doing everything in her power to not let her mouth hang open in shock. "You're Uncle Lester?"

Lester grinned at her surprise. "'fraid so."

"Wow…" Midge breathed, shaking her head. "All this time I just thought my cousin's were just tan from the Canadian sun."

She'd seen a few pictures of Bertha and Lester's kids over the years, but never any with their father. He'd always been behind the camera.

Lester let out a laugh.

"Yeah all that Canadian sun."

Tapping his notes against his palm, he admitted, "It was her idea, you know. To move out there. It was our only option back then. And it was the right choice. But she also hated leaving. Missing out on so much of you and your brother over the years."

"I…I understand. Still a bit in the dark on the details but…"

She let out a breath, smiling genuinely.

"It's nice to finally meet you Uncle Les."

"You too, Miriam." He smiled impishly. "Or can I call you Pidgeon?"

A musician across the way called out to him. 

"I gotta get back to work. Take care of yourself, yeah?"

Midge nodded. "Yeah, you too…"

She watched the older man go as he shuffled his way towards the pit, sitting down at the piano.

And it hit her just how little she knew about her family.

How little her parents had told her about their past…

Their history. 

She knew the broad strokes and the old stories Papa kept in his book of impressive Weissman men of old. But what about their stories? Their lives?

She found herself walking outside to the phonebooth on the corner, dialing Susie's number in a haze.

"Hey it's me," she greeted, shaking herself out of it a bit after hearing her manager's voice. 

"Do you still have keys to the Gaslight?"

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 17

First<Previous>Next

Masterlist

When they got back to their dorm, the place was on fire. Orange, red, and yellow billowed from one of the windows on the bottom floor.

Really, they shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were. And they weren’t even that surprised.

Enma squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment, hoping that it would make the flames disappear between blinks. But the quiet crackling sound reaching his ears told him that this wasn’t the case. “Alright, who’s gonna yell at them?”

“Grim belongs to Kuroki, so he should.”

Enma nodded. He liked that plan.

Kuroki, apparently, did not. “Hey! That is our pet, he’s not just mine.”

“Less than an hour ago you said, and I quote, ‘You’re holding my pet. Of course I’m jealous.’”

“But… I don’t wanna,” Kuroki huffed. He, truly, had such a way with words.

Enma grinned as something came to him. “Y’know… it would be good practice… Ito and I are going to be at work for at least a week while you aren’t, so you’re going to be the one taking care of him all the time.”

Kuroki’s fake pout dropped in horror.

Ito outright cackled. “Oh my god, you’re right!” And then they cleared their throat, trying to pull their face into a nicer, more pleasant expression. “I mean… it’s the job of the Housewarden to make sure their dorm members stay in line.”

“Actually, my darling Vice Housewarden, I think I will delegate this particular dorm member to you,” Kuroki said, batting his eyelashes.

Ito cursed. Enma could practically see them wracking their brain for a ‘legitimate’ reason as to why they simply couldn’t do it. He could have helped… but, frankly, he felt that speaking up at that exact moment was practically begging to be immediately ganged up on by the other two and he would rather not have to deal with Grim.

Besides, he was quickly distracted. Apparently, Ramshackle was going to surprise them today.

Deuce ran out the doors just before they could start pulling themselves up onto the porch (they didn’t trust the stairs to hold their weight), his eyes wide and frantic as he slammed it shut behind himself, leaning against it heavily as if to try and keep it from opening. “Heeeeey guys!” He said, resting his chin on his hand and clearly trying to look casual but failing miserably. “You’re back! Cool! Great, even!”

“Deuce…” sighed Enma.

The blue-haired boy cringed. “Yeeees?”

“We can see the fire from outside.”

“Ah.”

~

Somehow, it wasn’t Grim that had started the fire. Maybe they should have guessed that, considering the flames were orange instead of blue, but they had quickly come to associate fire with the monster in the forty-eight hours or so since they had met him. For obvious reasons.

Instead, it was the fault of Deuce and Ace. Who were pretty much their second guesses (‘pretty much’ only because they hadn’t known Deuce was at their house until he had burst through the doors to intercept them).

Deuce had apparently convinced Ace that he should try and do something to thank them for letting him stay over. Ace had remembered that they had mentioned income and were therefore likely to be low on funds so he had suggested they buy and try to cook something – with heavy encouragement from Grim, of course.

No one would ever know their cooking abilities, though Enma secretly doubted their skills since they just didn’t seem like the type to cook, because the dorm’s kitchen was, like everything else there, not good. Somehow, the pan had caught fire before they had even put anything in it. Grim, Ace, Deuce, and the ghosts had spent the next ten minutes before they had shown up trying to contain the fire. Deuce had tried to use wind magic, something he was apparently not as good at as Ace, and the fire had only spread.

“Okay…” Ito pinched the bridge of their nose. Partially to just keep the smoke out of it. “Well, since we don’t really know whether this is a gas fire or not, let’s try smothering it.”

“The fire is the size of the room. How the fuck are we supposed to smother it?” Kuroki groaned.

It was quiet for a moment.

And then Enma turned to Deuce. “How many cauldrons can you summon?”

Deuce lit up.

~

Good news: the fire was put out.

Bad news: their kitchen was full of cauldrons and therefore completely inaccessible.

It was silent as all of them looked at the pile of cauldrons. Honestly, Enma hadn’t thought it would work, so he hadn’t been prepared to deal with the consequences. He had thought they would have bigger problems – more ‘house on fire’-y problems, to be exact.

But now they head to deal with the newer, much more strange problem. Which was a… win? Maybe?

They had no clue whether their (cauldron-specific) summoning aficionado was able to get rid of what he had made, but it didn’t matter because Deuce had collapsed on the couch the moment the last of the fire was put out. He hadn’t moved since. Neither had anyone else, though, so they couldn’t really judge.

Ace’s hand moved for the wand hanging out of the pocket of his sweatpants and then he paused, apparently remembering the collar around his neck.

Grim caught the moment and got a (hopefully not literally) bright idea: “I could try and use my magic to –.”

Ito cut him off with a quick: “No.”

“Maybe another time,” said Kuroki.

“We just put out the fire,” Ace added.

Enma sighed. “Absolutely not.”

Grim did his best to pout. It didn’t quite work, his facial muscles weren’t made to contort like that.

It was silent for a few moments more…

“I have a party size bag of Cheeto Puffs in my duffel bag,” Ace offered.

Kuroki grinned. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

~

Ace struggled to fit another Cheeto in his mouth. Kuroki was watching, leaning back on his hands despite the orange staining his fingers, the slightest smile on his face. Ace had brought up his record (he could stuff in about five puffs without choking) and Kuroki had called him a loser. Whether he really thought this was ‘loser behavior’ is highly debatable, everyone else was pretty sure Kuroki just wanted to see if Ace would choke just to prove him wrong.

Enma popped another in his mouth and just barely cringed at the taste. “Hey, guys, do you think the food here tastes different?”

“Oh,” said Kuroki, still not looking away from Ace. Couldn’t have him cheating, after all. “Yeah. I kinda thought I was imagining it, though. Stress makes everything all weird, y’know? Figured it was that.”

Ito looked up from where they were hovering their hand by Ace’s back in preparation for the Heimlich they would have to do. “I thought that was just because I was from another country.”

Enma shook his head. “Nah, it’s weird. Not bad. Just…” He waved a hand vaguely. “Different.”

Ito nodded their agreement. “Probably just because we’re…”

(They glanced at Ace, who’s eyes narrowed. But this might have just been because he was really concentrating on trying to get that sixth Cheeto to fit, who knows.)

“From somewhere else,” they continued carefully. “Maybe they make things different here.”

The other two nodded. That made sense. This world had magic, was it really that big of a stretch to assume that it didn’t have different foods and preparation methods?

Kuroki ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes only for it to fall right back down. “The difference has to be something super basic, because even the canned peaches tasted off.”

“Those canned peaches were probably hundreds of years old, Kuroki,” Enma said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know if this was the reason why those tasted off.”

“You ate –?!” Ace started, only to start something else – choking.

“Loser,” Kuroki sing-songed.

Ito sighed and shot Kuroki a Look as they started pulling Ace to his feet so they could work at unclogging his windpipe.

~

About an hour and a half before their first class was set to start, the group of six found themselves walking towards the Mirror Chamber so Ace could apologize to his Housewarden. Deuce had pointed out that it would be difficult for Ace to participate in his classes without magic – which didn’t bode well for the Yuus, considering their only access to magic was through Grim, but that was a problem for later – and that he would probably have to, at the very least, say he was sorry in order to get the collar off.

Ace had, reluctantly, agreed to try.

Grim decided that he wanted to watch the apology go down. He was very invested in this ‘soap opera’, apparently.

All of the Yuus expressed interest in wanting to go as well, even if they had very different reasons for doing so. Ito didn’t trust Ace to know how to apologize properly. Kuroki didn’t trust Grim to not burn the entire dorm down if he didn’t go with him.

Enma wanted to see what the other dorms were like. Sue him. (Don’t. They are already very poor.)

He fought back a cringe as he stepped through the mirror, but all thoughts of how strange the feeling was were quickly wiped away. Tall hedges, too high for him to properly see over, opened up on either side of them, and, if the tiny map next to the gilded mirror they had stepped through was truthful, the entirety of the area was a maze.

Deuce pulled an identical map out of his pocket and Ace patted at his clothes, only to cringe and lean over Deuce’s shoulder to look at his. There was a beat of silence as they glanced around, apparently trying to figure out where they were, and then Ace made a quiet ‘oh’ sound and pointed to the three-pronged lamppost nearby with a banner that was decorated with some kind of house crest.

Deuce’s mouth dropped into a tiny ‘o’ shape and they both pointed to a particular place on the map and then nodded in a way that felt practically conspiratorial.

Ace straightened up. “We’re heading… this way.”

And then the pair strode off with far too much confidence for two people that had been lost just a few moments prior.

The Yuus traded glances as they followed after them. For some reason, they weren’t all that confident in Ace and Deuce’s ability to navigate the maze. Probably because they had taken forever to just find out where they were.

Deuce caught onto their unease and rushed to explain: “The mirror drops us off in a different place every time.”

Ah, yeah, that explains why they were struggling – wait, what?

Enma’s eyebrows shot into his hair in surprise. That was… insane. He wanted to know how that worked.

Ito had the complete opposite reaction. Their eyebrows raised too, but in a way that seemed more disbelieving. “That sounds… terrible.”

“Yeah,” Ace said with a shrug. “Apparently it’s to keep up the theme of ‘a kingdom of madness ruled over by a queen trying to keep everything in line’ or whatever.”

“I think the person that made this place was just a dick,” said Kuroki.

“That too.”

It was quiet as they were led through the maze. Mostly just because Grim was asleep. He had passed out on Kuroki’s shoulders with nothing more than an order to wake him up when things got interesting.

Additionally, the currently awake Ramshackle residents were too stunned by the surroundings to talk much. Everything was perfectly maintained to the point where it looked almost fake. The tiles under their feet were spotless enough that walking on them felt like a crime. The lines of the hedges were perfectly straight, giving sharp edges where the plants had been cut off. Despite plants’ tendency to grow wherever they were able, there wasn’t even a single blade of grass nor weed poking through the path at their feet. The braziers and statues that they passed on occasion were a spotless white. Rose bushes, sculpted into the shape of hearts, dotted the path, the red of the roses just a little too bright.

Enma shivered.

It was beautiful, sure. A scene pulled right out of a picture book. But it was unnatural.

In the distance, growing steadily closer and closer, a building began to stretch its way above the hedges. It reminded Enma, a little, of medieval castles with its large entrance, towers, and abundance of flags. However, this ‘castle’ was decorated liberally with the shapes of hearts and diamonds, and was painted in the colors red, white, and black. He almost thought it was themed after a deck of cards at first glance, but he couldn’t find any clubs or spades so he assumed not.

Kuroki shrugged a shoulder and Grim made a snorting sound as he woke up, a puff of flames rising dangerously close to the boy’s hair, and he blinked open bleary blue eyes.

Grim huffed. “Why am I awake?”

“We’re almost at the dorms,” Ito said, jerking their chin to point at it.

Grim perked up at this and looked in the way they had indicated.

“This place is swank,” said Grim, almost reverent.

Everyone cringed.

“Who taught you that word?” Ito said, their nose still scrunched a little in disgust.

Grim turned and gave Ace an accusing glare. Ace was wearing an expression that was far too innocent to be genuine.

Enma was pretty sure that Grim was blushing beneath his fur (if he could even do that), because he rushed to try and change the subject: “Well, I think it’s unfair that their place is so much cooler than ours!”

“Ours is still in development,” Ito said lightly.

“Our place is infested with caulrdons –.”

Grim’s attempts to argue were cut off. Someone rushed past, holding a teetering pile of red paint cans tall enough to hide their face. Deuce had to jump out of the way of the temporarily blind person to avoid getting buried under a mountain of cans.

The person yelped out a quick ‘sorry’, but they didn’t glance back. Instead, their eyes traced the line of rose bushes frantically, head on a swivel as they inspected them all with a critical eye. He must have found something, because he yelped again – this time it was little more than a wordless cry – and almost dropped the cans.

He set them down with so little grace he may as well have just let them drop, revealing frazzled orange hair and a tiny red diamond on his cheek. With a start, Enma realized he actually recognized him. He was one of the people that had dragged Ace and Deuce away when they were in the mine. Trey and Cater, he remembered the Housewarden calling them, though he wasn’t sure which one this was.

Enma blinked as he watched the boy procure a paintbrush from next to where his wand sat in his breast pocket and dip it in the can. Then he turned to paint one of the roses.

His eyebrows knit. He… had a strange sense of deja vu. Which was weird, because he was pretty sure he had never seen that before, why would he have?

But…

He found himself walking closer.

“Gotta hurry gotta hurry,” the boy almost sang, but the pitch of his voice was the strange kind of highness that suggested he was a lot more scared than he was letting on. Which was pretty bad, considering he already looked pretty stressed. “Even a bit of white and I can kiss my head goodbye.”

He finished painting the rose with the vibrant red paint – which, now that he thought of it, explained why the roses looked to be such a strange shade – and turned to look around once again, only to come face to face with Enma.

The redhead blinked at him. “You need something?”

Enma’s face flushed and he backed up a step. He shouldn’t have been staring, but now he was caught so he might as well ask…

“What’re you doing?”

The boy gave him a strange look and then gestured to the paintbrush in his hand. “Painting the roses red, can’t you tell?”

“I mean… sure, but why?”

The redhead laughed a little. “Aw, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten a cute reaction like that.”

Enma blinked. Cute?

Whatever, he could take the blow to his ego if that meant he would get an answer to why his brain was screaming that the fact that this stranger was painting roses was important.

Unfortunately, the stranger’s green eyes widened and he gasped. “Wait, aren’t you one of those kids from the mine? You were there because you broke the chandelier, right? What were you thinking? Wait, no, how did you even manage that?”

He winced. “I mean… the chandelier thing wasn’t really me, I was just there…” he started to explain.

Thankfully, he got out of that conversation because the others came rushing into the tiny clearing that Enma and the person were standing in. The tension left his companions the moment they laid eyes on him and Enma realized that, maybe, wandering off while he was in a maze was a bad idea.

The moment the redhead caught sight of the others he lit up. “And these are the other ones! And, hey, one of them is the kid that got in even more trouble because he ate the dorm head's tart the same night!”

Ace tried to rub the back of his neck awkwardly but was stopped by the collar. Sad.

The person didn’t seem to agree it was sad, though. “I am so lucky to meet the infamous newcomers! Hey, c’mere, we should totally take a selfie to commemorate this.”

He pulled out his phone (it had an odd case, with cartoony diamonds and comic-style speech bubbles) and, with a quick, practiced motion, turned it to selfie mode. The group of six were definitely not prepared, and the only person that even managed to smile in time was Ito, who was cheating because they were just amused by the strange case.

But whatever, the camera snapped and their mild shock and confusion was captured for the world to see.

The strange boy straightened and pulled his phone closer to himself, his fingers flew across the screen, testing out filters and effects with a speed Enma could barely comprehend. “Can I post this to Magicam?”

(Enma opened his mouth to ask what that was, but Kuroki elbowed him in the side and shook his head just slightly. He scowled, his mouth snapping shut. And, sure, based on context clues it was obviously some kind of social media, but that doesn’t tell him the specifics, now does it, Kuroki?)

“Tell me your names so I can put you in the tags,” Cater said, not waiting for an answer as to whether he could post them.

“Uhhhhhhhhh,” said Deuce smartly. And then he blinked once, apparently done buffering. “Deuce Spade.”

“Ace.”

“Grim! And these are my henchmen, the Ramshackle kids!”

“God, we sound like a 90s band,” Ito commented, idly gathering the paint cans on the ground. Seemingly just to have something to do.

“I’m Kuroki Yuuya. This is Enma Yuuken and Ito… wait, do I know your last name?”

“Morales.”

“Mo-Mowawe– why is your name so difficult to say?”

Ito shrugged unconcernedly.

The stranger’s eyebrows knit together as he typed on his phone. “None of you are showing up…”

“We don’t have Magicam,” Enma explained politely, because that was a lot easier to explain than ‘we got shot in here from another dimension without any of our things so we couldn’t have social media if we tried’.

The boy gasped and rested a hand on Enma’s shoulder. “You’re in that old, rundown dorm, right? You have my sympathy.”

Enma was unsure if he should be offended or not. He was too busy trying to figure out why the subject had changed so abruptly.

He eventually decided on the safest response: “... thanks?”

This must have been correct, because the strange stranger pulled his hand back with a sage nod and then lit up with a smile as he clicked on his phone once more. “Aaaand done!” He pocketed his phone, but didn’t bother removing the hand from his pocket after. “I should probably introduce myself. I’m Cater Diamond, a third-year, but you can just call me Cater. Or CayCay if you’re feeling cray-cray!”

Ito was only half paying attention, they were squinting at one of the cans and mouthing something to themself. They were aware enough to speak, though. “Kk,” they said absently. And then their eyes widened. “Wait, no –.”

It was too late, Kuroki and Ace were already laughing at them. They pouted and seemed to heavily consider throwing the can at the friends that were daring to laugh at their mistake.

Cater gave an amused little smile. “I said you could call me that, yes… Ito-chan, was it?”

Kuroki frowned. “Don’t call them that. They don’t know you’re being condescending, that’s just wrong.”

(Bold words from someone that was half-hiding behind Ace while he said it, but okay.)

“I’m not being condescending,” Cater said lightly. “I think all you little freshmen are so cute –!”

“Condescending? What does the ‘-chan’ thing mean?” Ito piped up, raising their hand like a schoolkid. Which they were, admittedly, but whatever.

Kuroki sighed. “It’s like… kinda like calling you cute and young? I don’t know if there’s really a way to explain it other than that.”

Ito snorted. “Oh. Then, yeah, you can’t call me that. Or, I mean, you can, but… that’s like calling me ‘ChanChan’... or ‘ItoIto’... weird, yeah?”

“Hm?” Enma said, because what?

“It sounds like ‘-chan’ is basically what Mex–... it’s a lot like adding ‘ito’ or ‘ita’ to someone’s name,” Ito explained, grinning.

Kuroki grinned. “So you’ve basically just been calling yourself ‘-chan’ this whole time? Seems a little presumptuous, yeah?”

(“Grim-chan calls himself Grim-sama and you think that’s presumptuous?” Deuce teased. And then he yelped and ducked under a fireball that was sent his way.)

Ito rolled their eyes. “I didn’t call myself that. I used to be… er, if my birth name had actually been Jules, then it would have started with Julito. And then it got shortened to Lito. And now I’m just Ito.”

Ace mouth dropped open. “This changes everything,” he said overdramatically, hand pressed to his heart. “You’ve been lying to us this whole time! What if – what if you’re not even actually a human! You could be a demon in disguise!”

Ito flicked him in the shoulder. Ace pretended to have been shot, stumbling back with a loud gasp and leaning on Kuroki heavily for support. Kuroki stepped back and watched him fall into the grass with a soft ‘oof’.

Cater, who had been watching them with a strange look on his face, slowly began to grin. “Wait, Ito-chan. If I call you that then you can be ChanChan and I can be CayCay.”

“That’s terrible. I love it.”

Cater smiled, and this one was different than the smiles he had given before. His eyes crinkled a lot more.

But, as quickly as the expression had appeared, it was gone when his eyes caught on the paint cans and widened. “Shit, what am I doing? I don’t have time for all this talking!” He gathered up the paint cans Ito had been messing with and looked around, apparently back to looking for roses to paint. “I need to get this done by tomorrow…” His eyes caught on the group of six and narrowed in a way that Enma couldn’t really decipher. And then he lit up with another bright grin. “Well, since you’re all here, do you think you could help me paint the roses?”

Enma suddenly remembered why he had been talking to Cater in the first place. “Sure, if you explain why you’re doing it.”

Cater shrugged. “Just gotta. Simple as that. Gotta paint the roses red for the party, gotta color the flamingos for the croquet match…”

“Why are your chores so weird?” Said Grim.

Cater shoved a paint can and brush into a mildly confused Kuroki’s hands. “Just how it is! I don’t make the rules, I just follow them! Otherwise I lose my head!”

Enma’s eyes widened briefly before he remembered that, right, the housewarden for Heartslabyul had a spell that collared people that used that name. Still a panic-inducing name, though.

“So the tart Ace ate was for a birthday party…” Deuce said, smacking his friend upside the head.

Ace strung together a frankly impressive number of curses, but he was ignored.

Ito shook their head slowly, frowning. “No wonder he was so upset!”

“Nope! Not a birthday! An Unbirthday,” Cater ‘corrected’. ‘Corrected’ in quotations because there was no way that was correct.

Kuroki’s eyebrows shot into his hair. He started looking around. “Unbirthday party?” He repeated, something strange hidden within his expression.

“What’s that?” Deuce said, frowning.

“Yep! It’s a tradition in our dorm! The dorm’s leader will choose a random day that’s no one’s birthday, and we’ll all have a tea party!” Cater said. Then, he reached out and patted Deuce on the top of the head. “Which you should know, as a member of the dorm. Didn’t you read the pamphlet?”

���Uh…” Deuce said, glancing at Ace for help. Ace was too busy whistling innocently to do so.

Cater laughed. “Well, nevermind that, we’ve got roses to paint.”

“Why would we help you?” Ace said, admittedly rather rudely.

Their senior’s eyes crinkled, but this time it wasn’t at all kind. Enma was suddenly reminded of the night before, when he had helped drag Ace and Deuce off to get punished without remorse.

“Because you wouldn’t want our darling Housewarden to realize you haven’t read the pamphlet, right?”

Both boys paled.

“Roses? I can paint those in my sleep!”

“Honestly, I dream about painting roses. It’s my favorite pastime.”

~

Enma thought it would probably be faster if Cater had just done it himself. Ace and the three Yuus were not particularly fast when it came to painting, but at least that kind of made sense. Cater could focus on other bushes while the four of them went one at a time, carefully making sure each individual petal was coated enough to look red at every angle.

(And why were the Yuus helping? If anyone ever questioned them, they would say it was because they couldn’t leave until Ace and Deuce were done being blackmailed and helping would make that go faster. But that wasn’t the truth. They had just gotten dragged into it.)

As for Grim and Deuce… well, Cater ended up pretty much just going over all their flowers himself to make sure they were all the right color. And putting out fires. And explaining how exactly appearance-changing magic worked millions of times. And –...

Long story short, it definitely wasn’t working out for him. See, kids? Laziness doesn’t pay. Remember that.

But whatever. With five people working on it (and two people working against them, but let’s not talk about that) they managed to finish the section. Eventually.

Enma tossed his paintbrush into the nearest empty can and craned his neck from side to side with a quiet groan. He’d been in one position too long and now everything hurt. Why does life hate him so?

“Wow, you guys are even worse at this than I thought you’d be,” Cater said.

He was almost definitely just teasing Deuce and Grim, but Ace took it personally for some reason: “Well, I think the roses should be left white, anyways. They’re pretty as is! Changing the color is stupid.”

Cater shrugged. “What can I say? It’s tradition. The Queen of Hearts herself came up with all of our rules, so we have to stick to them. Especially since Riddle...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Is particularly passionate about following them, to say it lightly.”

Ah, he’s a tyrant, Enma translated. Fun.

“Speaking of…” Cater said slowly, his eyes narrowing in that shrewd way once again. “I don’t see any tarts on you.”

Ace frowned. “Of course not. I got here first thing, so I don’t really have anything…?”

“No, yeah, that makes sense, but rule 53 says ‘one must always return what they steal’ so, unfortunately, I can’t let you in.”

Enma and Kuroki might have been snickering at Ace’s misfortune, but no one can prove that. Except for Ito, but they were complicit seeing as they helped cover their friends’ mouths instead of chastising them.

“Sorry about this,” Cater said, not sounding sorry at all. “But if you’re part of the dorm you have to obey the rules. I’ll be losing my own head if I help you get in, and we should avoid as much suffering in the world as possible, don’t you think? So, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ace’s eyes widened as Cater drew his wand again and he looked around frantically. His gaze skipped over the three who were definitely not going to be of much help to him even if they wanted to (which, guessing by the fact that all three Yuus were already sitting down in preparation to watch a fight, they did not want to help), and caught on Deuce and Grim.

“Help me.”

Deuce yelped as he was quite literally latched onto. “What? Why the hell are you dragging me into this?”

“I don’t have magic, please.”

Cater’s form seemed to flicker and then, to everyone’s surprise and maybe slight horror, he began to duplicate.

“They’re fucked,” said Kuroki, who seemed to be rifling through their bag for the leftover Cheetos they had definitely not stolen from Ace.

Ito made a hissing sound through their teeth when Deuce’s cauldron was sent right back his way. It bowled him over and they didn’t see him again.

“Ooh that’s gotta hurt. Anyways. Can I have one?”

Kuroki, kind and generous person that he was, gave Ito an entire handful. Everyone ignored the loud ‘Fuck!’ that Ace screamed as he was thrown back into a hedge by a blast of fire magic.

Enma hummed, hand out for a Cheeto of his own. “I wonder if they all use the same stamina.”

“We could ask,” suggested Kuroki, shrugging as he set a few in Enma’s palm as well.

“CayCay!” Ito yelled over the sound of Grim attempting to tear a Cater apart with his teeth. “Can you – er… one of you come here?”

“Yeah!” One of the Caters ran over, looking not at all winded. “What’s up, Ito-chan?”

“Enma has questions.”

The Cater smiled. “Oh! Sure! Can I have a Cheeto while we talk, though?”

Kuroki huffed, but he did hand over a single Cheeto.

This apparently satisfied the Cater, because he beamed and popped it into his mouth.

He sat down beside Enma and gave a tiny wave of his hand to tell him he could start asking questions.

Enma opened his mouth…

~

“– we can’t use too much magic as a collective, otherwise we accumulate a bunch of blot really quickly.”

“What is blot, anyways?” Enma said, remembering Crowley had mentioned it offhand.

The Cater grinned, hands in his pockets as they walked towards the nearest mirror. “It’s like… being really tired, but more. My sisters used to tell me that if I got too much blot I would turn into this big, evil monster, but…”

“Older siblings,” Ito said, nodding sagely.

The Cater nodded his agreement. “You’ve got some?”

“Nah, I am the older sibling. I used to tell one of my little sisters that the light reflecting off the sparkles on her shirt were ghosts.”

“Ah. Classic.”

“Right?”

“Hey,” Deuce cut into the conversation. “Are you guys going to help us?”

Kuroki glanced back at where Deuce, Ace, and Grim were getting dragged along by Caters. “What do you expect us to do?”

“Not be chatty with our attacker, for one!”

Enma shrugged. “He’s nice.”

“He is not,” scoffed Ace. “He should have turned us away the moment he saw we didn’t have a tart! But he didn’t! Because he wanted to make us paint roses for him first!”

“Nice doesn’t necessarily mean kind,” Enma said.

And then he looked back at the Cater that they had kind of befriended. “Anyways. Cater-senpai. I was wondering how Unique Magics can affect people. Do they match personalities? Is it just random?”

The Cater shrugged and made a so-so motion with his hand. “There’s a lot of debate about it. ‘What comes first, the chicken or the egg?’ kinda thing, if you catch my drift.”

Enma hummed. He wished he had a notebook to write everything down in.

“Makes sense you got to duplicate then, you two-faced bitch,” Ace spat.

The Caters all seemed to find their kouhai’s pettiness amusing (Thankfully. That was rude, Ace. You deserve to be dragged on the ground). The Cater holding Ace shook him a little before pulling him to his feet. “Big words from someone who’s getting kicked out.”

And then Ace was almost quite literally kicked out, pushed through the mirror they had finally arrived at.

The Caters gave waves that felt mocking even when they weren’t pointed at Enma, so Ace must have been fuming on the other side of the mirror.

Deuce and Grim were allowed to stand on their own.

Grim forwent this choice, instead going to settle himself around the back of Kuroki’s neck as usual.

Deuce slunk through the mirror, head down and ears bright red, apparently embarrassed at having lost so horribly.

The obvious threats either gone – or neutralized by sleepiness, in Grim’s case – the Caters combined back into one person in a shimmer of strange light. The Cater smiled and waved at the Ramshackle residents. “It’s been nice meeting you guys!”

Enma nodded. “We should get to our first class. Being late on our first day sounds… not great.”

“It wouldn’t bode well, no,” Cater said with a light laugh.

“We’ll be back later!” Ito chirped, waving as they all stepped through the mirror one at a time. Cater waved after the group, smiling.

“With a tart this time, hopefully!”

Whatever colorful response Ace was going to spit after him was lost, because the bell rang.

“FUCK,” yelped Kuroki. Which, yeah, that summarized the situation pretty much perfectly.

And so, their senior’s laughter echoing along the hallway, the group of first years began to sprint to their homeroom class.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

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

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

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

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

-------------------------------------

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

------------------------------------

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

------------------------------

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

[ragingbookdragon]

Even Though We May Be Hopeless Hearts Just Passing Through, I Was Made For Loving You PT. 1

Batsis x Kyle Rayner

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I realize the other story didn't follow the whole, dating the brother's best friend trope, so I decided to remedy it. And what do you get when you cross a hopeless romantic with someone who's new to love? Perfection. That's what. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

Saturday mornings, in Dick’s opinion, were meant for sleeping in and quite possibly going to IHOP when everyone finally crawled out of bed at ten. They were not meant for being shoved in the side by a little brother.

“Golden-boy,” a voice grouched from beneath the bedside. “Your phone’s been going off for an hour. Either put it on silent or answer the goddamn thing.”

Dick let out a tired ‘pfft’, rolling onto his stomach, face buried in the side of the bed as he looked down to the floor. “Annoyed much, Little-wing?”

“I am going to shove that phone so far up your—”

Reaching over, Dick put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Where are you?

“Still in bed,” he responded, sentence ending in a groan as he stretched. “Why?”

You were supposed to be on the flight back to Gotham two hours ago.

Dick’s eyes went wide, and he sat up, gaping at the bedside clock. “It’s today.”

It is today. I can’t believe you forgot it was today.

“Oh my God, it’s today and we missed our flight.” He stumbled out of the bed, barely registering the shout from Jason as his foot landed in his brother’s stomach. “Jason, get up! It’s today!’

“What’s today?” his little brother griped, rubbing his abdomen.

“(Y/N)’s coming back!”

Jason’s eyes went wide, and he scrambled to his feet, hurriedly finding his bag to change out of his nightclothes. “Christ, I can’t believe we forgot that (Y/N) was coming home today!” he looked at Dick. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Dick yelped. “How is this my fault!”

He scowled. “Big brother wanted everyone to be with a sibling for the night, so they’d be together and be punctual but you and I both know neither of us have any concept of time.” His scowl grew. “I knew I should’ve bunked with Cass. She’s on time no matter what happens.”

Dick threw Jason’s sweatshirt at him. “Dress now, bitch later.” He put the phone back to his ear. “We missed our flight, but we can drive there.”

Your car’s in the shop.

“Shit,” he hissed, spinning in a circle to help his brain circuit enough to think of something new. “Uh-uh-uh—”

“Kyle!” Jason shouted, pointing at him. “Kyle’s like thirty minutes away from Manhattan! We’ll go to him for a ride!”

Dick grinned. “We’ll find Kyle.”

You sure Kyle’s at home?

“Pfft, Kyle’s always home on the weekends. He’s lazy.”

Just get here. (Y/N)’s plane is going to land in less than four hours.

“We’ll be there,” he said. “Is Diana coming too?”

Of course. She is (Y/N)’s mother.

“Nice. Alright, see you in Gotham, Bruce.”

Love you boys. And be careful. I’ve already heard that Cass, Tim, and Steph got into a fender-bender with Damian and Duke.

Dick blinked. “They’re…they’re legitimately driving separate cars? How’d they hit each other?”

Don’t ask.

The line went dead, and Dick looked at his brother. “Ready?”

Jason nodded. “Already got an Uber to Kyle’s place.”

“We could always just Uber to Gotham?” he offered, and Jason recoiled with a shocked look.

“And pay a ridiculous amount of money instead of just paying Kyle’s gas? Fuck no, big brother.” He shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets. “C’mon!” he chirped, rather excitedly. “Our baby sister’s coming home!”

***

When he swung the door open to yell at whoever was pounding on it, he wasn’t expecting to see two of his best friends grinning like idiots. “Wha—”

He’d barely gotten a word out when Jason shoved a bag of fast food in his hands. “Get dressed. You’ve gotta drive us to Gotham City.”

Kyle blinked, glancing down at the bag before looking at Dick. “Why?”

“Our sister’s coming home, and we overslept and missed out flight outta here.”

“And you came to me…why?” he asked.

“Because you have the functioning car.” Jason retorted, antsy on his feet. “C’mon Kyle. We have to hurry! (Y/N)’s coming home!”

Figuring it was better to agree than to argue, Kyle relented, handing back the bag of food before he disappeared into his apartment, reappearing moments later, dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a graphic tee, and his usual slim casual jacket. He took the bag back and started digging around in it.

“Who’s (Y/N)?” he inquired, biting into a breakfast burrito as he locked his front door behind him.

“Our baby sister.” Jason said.

“I thought Cass was your baby sister?”

Dick nodded, getting out his own breakfast from the bag. “She is. But (Y/N)’s like…the OG baby sister.”

Kyle blinked, glancing over at him as he pushed the elevator button. “That makes no sense.”

“He means that (Y/N) was around before Cass was.”

“And she isn’t with you guys why?”

“She’s been on Themyscira for the last few years training with her grandmother and the other Amazons.” Jason answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world, stepping onto the elevator.

Kyle merely stared at the two brothers who were looking back at him; he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Wait, your sister’s an Amazon?”

“Yep.”

“Who’s her mom?” he asked, stepping between them.

“Wonder Woman.” Dick said.

Strike two. “Who’s her dad?”

“Batman.” Jason responded.

Believe it or not, Kyle went three for three punches to the gut. “Bruce and Diana had a kid together?”

“Yeah.” Dick murmured. “I think it’s also why B’s so insistent against inter-team-relations.” He nudged Jason behind Kyle. “First time he attempts dating a coworker he ends up with a baby.”

Jason snorted. “And all those lessons about, ‘Children, whatever you do, don’t date anyone on your team. It’ll only lead to babies and limited visitation’.” He laughed again, then he frowned. “I don’t think any of us have followed that lesson.”

Dick opened his mouth to make an excuse but all that came out was a pitiful, deflate of air followed by, “That’s actually a good point.”

The elevator dinged and they watched the doors open before walking out towards the parking garage. They climbed into Kyle’s car, Jason in the front because his legs were longer than Dick’s, and Dick was a contortionist anyways so if anyone deserved to have their knees in their chest, it was him.

Halfway through the drive Kyle asked, “You guys are paying for my gas, aren’t you?”

All he received was unsure responses and he merely sighed.

***

He figured he should’ve just dropped Jason and Dick off at the airport in Gotham and drove home, but he couldn’t help but want to see just what the daughter of Wonder Woman and Batman looked like. He imagined a little girl dressed in a Batman suit three sizes too big and wielding a sword and a lasso way too heavy for her. It made him smile, the way that the two brothers gushed about (Y/N). From their praise, she was their world. Kyle had to see her though, because nothing was going to satiate that curiosity of seeing the big Batman’s daughter.

He watched Dick and Jason crane their necks like birds as they looked around. And honestly, the family shouldn’t have been that hard to find considering that every time Kyle was around the entirety of the Batfamily, they were like psychos on steroids—he very much so understood why the entirety of Gotham’s villains became flighty when every member of the Batfamily was out patrolling.

Kyle wasn’t expecting a voice to crack over the airport, loud and bubbly. “Brothers!”

All three of them stopped, even him who wasn’t even a sibling, looking over towards the call and Kyle’s jaw dropped as a young woman sprinted over to Dick and Jason, slamming into them with the weight of a train. The three of them collapsed into a pile on the floor, but they were laughing so Kyle assumed the siblings were alright.

“Princess!”

“Baby girl!”

“Oh, I am so glad to see you both!” she exclaimed. “I have waited so long to come home!” she was on her feet in moments, pulling them to theirs as if they weighed nothing. And Kyle knew Jason weighed a lot—he’d been crushed under his best friend before in fights.

Suddenly, she stopped and looked over at Kyle who immediately felt his heart lurch under her sharp gaze. “Who is this you have brought?”

Jason gestured to him. “(Y/N) this is Kyle. He’s a friend of Dick and mine. Kyle, this is our little sister, (Y/N).”

She huffed laugh. “I am not little, Jason. I am twenty-one.” Reaching out, she immediately pulled Kyle in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. “It is good to meet you, Kyle.”

“You too,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks warm as she pulled away and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Any friend of my brothers is a friend of mine.” (Y/N) smiled. “Are you a superhero as well?”

He couldn’t help but toss a quick glance towards Jason who nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m a Green Lantern.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in wonder, and she let go of his shoulders in favor of grabbing at his hands until she found his ring. She stared at it, murmuring quiet, ‘ooo’s and ah’s’. “That is simply amazing!” she chirped, looking at him, and then she silently gasped, raising his hand near his eyes. “Oh…your eyes are almost the same color as your ring.”

Her smile made Kyle’s heart beat a little faster as she expressed, “They are beautiful.”

They gazed at each other, too captivated in the moment to understand that the family had gathered around them by then. Someone’s hand curled around (Y/N)’s wrist and she looked over seeing Dick tugging her hand away.

“C’mon Princess, let’s go get your things on the belt.”

She smiled and followed, giving a small wave to Kyle, who returned hers shakily whilst grinning like a dope.

Someone elbowed him in the ribs, and he gasped, holding his side as Jason muttered, “Don’t ever stare at my sister like that again.”

Kyle blinked, glancing at him. “What’re you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you goddamn skirt-chaser.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Kyle spluttered.

“You’re thinking about it.” Jason warned, pointing a finger in his face. “Make a move on (Y/N) and I’ll kill you with your own ring.” Kyle recoiled just as she and Dick were coming back, both holding a suitcase.

“Father!” she called, glancing at Bruce. “Dick and I have retrieved my luggage.”

He smiled at her. “Let’s go put it in the SUV then.” He paused, looking over the large group. He and Diana had ridden together, and since his children had fender-benders, they’d picked up Cass, Tim, Stephanie, Duke, and Damian; there wasn’t room for (Y/N) too.

“Father? Is something the matter?” (Y/N) was staring at him with concern.

“There’s not enough room in the SUV for you too. Maybe we—”

“There’s room in my car for (Y/N)!” Kyle blurted out, smiling nervously at Bruce. “I can follow behind you.”

Before anyone could screech ‘NO!’, mainly Dick and Jason, (Y/N) lit up like the morning sun. “Oh, that is a wonderful idea!” she grabbed onto Diana’s arm. “We should all stop for ice-cream though! Mother, what do you say?”

She smiled at her and leaned over, kissing her head. “I say that sounds like a fantastic idea, daughter.”

Kyle grinned and held out his arm for (Y/N), her giggling as she took it. “You know, I don’t live in Gotham, (Y/N), but I do know a good gelato store around the area.”

“What is gelato?” she asked, and he groaned.

“Oh, I can’t believe you don’t know what that is.” He started off, pilling her along, leaving everyone behind. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Jason’s face pinched and he looked over at Bruce. “Can I break the no-kill rule just once?”

Bruce blinked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched his daughter laughing along with Kyle, both looking like newlyweds already. “Believe it or not, I’m strongly considering it.”

“Bruce.” Diana admonished. “Let (Y/N) and Kyle become friends. You know she doesn’t have many outside this family here.”

Dick growled. “Except Kyle doesn’t want to be friends with (Y/N), Diana. He wants to be her boyfriend.”

“They just met though?”

“Yeah, and Kyle’s a propose on week two type of man,” Jason griped. “Jesus Christ, this is going to be a disaster.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but (Y/N) and Kyle said gelato and you guys are just standing here.” Tim said. “Can we go now?”

[moka-suwi]

6: Thaumosensitivity

The PPC may kill Sues, but there's a clause in the whole murder thing that lets PPC agents dispatch Mary Sues with extreme prejudice: it's like war, except the Mary Sues don't know it. — Revised Handbook of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum

“Your problem,” said Lena, “is that you’re thinking of it as getting from point Alka–” she held up the training staff as if to strike– “to point Bata.” She swung it down, the tip of the staff coming to a stop a few inches above the ground. “So you’re rushing the motion, and you’re losing strength and control.”

Mallory hummed in acknowledgement. “And what should I be doing instead?”

“For now?” The instructor held the staff back up. “Just focus on keeping the motion smooth and fluid.” As she said those words, she brought it down in a slow diagonal movement. “The speed’s gonna come with the training, not the opposite.”

Mal nodded and gave it another try, somewhat slower than before. The end of her staff struck the post a few inches below the red mark she was aiming for, which got yet another frustrated sigh out of her.

Lena, however, was smiling. “There you go, that’s already much better! Just be more mindful of the weight of the staff, don’t let it carry you away.”

“Is it really that important to be so precise when, uh, hitting someone with a big stick?” Mal replied, giving a doubtful look at the staff.

Lena’s smile widened further. “Your friend told me you got a guy in Turia with a strike to the neck, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m…” A pause. “Hmm. Yeah, I see your point.”

“With enough training, next time might even be on purpose. Alright, let’s try it a few more times, and then you’re free!”

“Those things are weird,” Anis opined as they dismounted the kaiila, grabbing the recurve bow in their off hand.

“What could you possibly mean by that?” Jane replied, giving a few pats on Murderhorse’s flank.

The redhead chortled. “I’m serious! Once you get it to a gallop, it starts moving a lot more like a cat than a horse.”

“Huh. Never noticed that, but it makes sense, I guess?”

“That means the back moves a lot more,” Anis explained, holding out their hand horizontally and moving it up and down a few times. “I’ll have to adjust to that when shooting.”

Jane nodded. “I’ve seen the Tuchuk riders stand up in their stirrups a bit when they use their bows, that probably helps.”

“Probably. I’m just not really used to those either.”

“Stirrups? Seriously?”

“It’s… Legitimately hard to explain.”

Jane gave a long look at Anis. “... A lot of things are, these days.”

“I might actually keep it up,” Mal said. “A bit tired of being kind of useless in missions like these, honestly.”

Anis, in the corner of the wagon with the wash basin, didn’t bother to turn around. “ESAS has a decent training room. Agent-run, they got tired of almost dying on every mission.”

Mal slumped on the bed. “Fucks me up how they’d never even touched a weapon until like a year ago, and they’re already better at training than the PPC. I mean, I know there’s Suefluence involved, but…”

“I don’t think that’s chargeable, it’s realistic enough. We’re just that bad.” A chuckle. “At this point, I don’t think I should even touch a gun until I’ve found a proper shooting range.”

The girl hummed. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, guns are about as point-and-click as you get.”

“Yes, that’s what they taught us.”

“Hah.”

Anis finally turned around, putting a clean shirt back on. Sitting onto the bed, they added: “By the way, I think Jane is suspecting something.”

Mal perked up. “What?”

“She finds us weird. I think we don’t fit in enough.”

“She got isekaied by aliens, and then a witch showed up. We could make up just about anything and she’d believe us.”

Anis nodded. “Fair. But we need to agree on a cover story, then.”

“Cover…” Mal pondered for a while. “Hey, well, secret mission from Earth. Figuring out what’s going on on Horny Low Fantasy Planet. It’s barely even wrong.”

“That’s an option.” Anis lay down on the bed. “I’ll let you know if I find anything better, but for now, we should sleep.”

The walls of Turia looked much smaller than the agents remembered. Perhaps a trick of perspective, but even then, they seemed of a much more reasonable size than before.

Mal opined: “She made it… Better, in a way, but that’s still space distortion, right?”

Anis nodded in answer from atop Murderhorse, alternating between checking their weapons and looking at the Words. “There’s some backstory exposition. This city apparently reminds her of another she took in her homeworld. Exploded a hole right through the walls.”

“I assume,” Mal replied with a smile, “she’s gonna do the same here?”

Another nod. “There’s also some more, uh, flirting. And more backstory. Royal heir, trained with assassins before killing them for treason, girlbossed her way into ruling a good chunk of the world, uh… Killed a god? And threatened another?”

“Let me guess, those are all mentioned for the first time right before she does something implausible?”

Anis smiled. “Some of them. But it looks consistent.”

“So it’s more like dumping an endgame D&D character into a low-level campaign,” Mal said, grinning.

Her partner took a couple seconds to respond. “Probably. But also: nerd.”

Mal laughed as Anis rode off to rejoin the archers. She then left the camp, following the infantry troops at first before walking off to a small hill, on which she lay down to somewhat conceal herself. She could see Systlin and her honor guard, fairly blurry at that distance but still recognizable, facing off with soldiers on… Raptors? Sure, why not. While her sight was what it was, her hearing had done a lot to compensate over the years, and so she focused on the conversation.

“You know full well that I lead this army.” She said bluntly. “You’ve heard the stories.” She sighed. “It makes me curious…” “Stories of trickery and nonsense about sorcery.” The man with the glittering armor said loftily. “A few villages might fall to some unnatural woman, but this is Turia. We will not be afraid of a tribe of women who think themselves the equals of men.”

Honestly pretty silly. The Sue herself commented on it, which Mal thought of as less of a self-aware moment and more of another opportunity to make herself look better by way of a DMB. Still, the raptor cavalry severely outnumbered Systlin’s, which would have probably been a problem had she not had tailor-made war-winning powers.

Indeed, Mal watched on as a cracking sound echoed through the air, and the lances of Turia’s entire front line shattered. She could feel the power from here, a terrible force that sought the flaws in the patterns of reality and spread them exponentially, rending molecules apart, a weaponized Second Law of Thermodynamics—

Focus. The enemy cavalry was panicking, and the entire force of Systlin’s army moved in for the kill, the Sue’s kaiila springing in front of her advancing troops. The way clear, she made a move toward the front lines – motion from the walls, arrows? Her course was unimpeded. She was leading from her front lines, which was extremely unrealistic for any sort of noble – probably chargeable. Systlin was supposed to be a queen, not a—

Goddess of war. Goddess of justice. The words of the goddess from the dream sequence echoed in Mal’s mind. Certainly an option to explain this, but she wasn’t sure if—

The great gates of Turia, and fifty feet of the wall to either side, crumbled into splinters and sand.

Power. Overwhelming Power. The entire hylic plane was in agony, patterns and metapatterns coming undone within the range of the blast, minds – emergent patterns of electricity, pieces of Wan Mekhane, most fragile and most precious – dissipating into a hateful local maximum of entropy, souls blinking out to—

“Marshmallow. Mallory. Please. Just listen—”

“That was a Sue!” Mallory Belford, of the Department of Floaters, gestured at the body on the ground.

Rose was shaking, wand pointed at Mal. “She wasn’t doing anything wrong!”

Mal knew Rose wouldn’t hurt her. She couldn’t. “You’ve seen what she’s done to canon! What is happening to you?”

There were tears in her partner’s eyes. “She… She was just a girl having fun with her favorite characters.”

Oh, no. The Sue had got to Rose. Lingering influence. Mal pulled out the neuralyzer. “Rose, listen, I… She’s done something to your mind. You can’t—”

A white light shone from Rose’s wand, and Mal froze in place.

This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t happening. It—

Wait. It is not happening. This already happened. This isn’t real.

Mal found herself in a place that wasn’t. Around her were minds, hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. Immediately, her full attention turned to the one facing her.

She immediately realized who She was. Her form was different, impossible to describe in hylic terms, a divine True Form that would drive any living soul mad—

“Am… Am I dead?”

You'll get better. There was some amusement in the Lady’s voice. Your body is mostly intact, and you are… Of another.

Mal wasn’t sure if that turn of phrase was typical of the goddess, or indicative of something deeper. There were some more urgent matters, though. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

I am nothing but myself, Mallory Belford. What are you doing here?

There was no use in lying to a being of such Power – capitalized, as per Her own canon’s convention. Still, Mal readied her own power as she spoke.

“I am an agent of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. You are aiding a Mary Sue in destroying the canon of Gor. This can still end peacefully, and everything return to normal.”

The Lady laughed, softly. Children. You shall not touch my sister.

Mal deployed her halo: two wings and a unicorn horn, in a shape reminiscent of a power button. Rightfully earned during the Friendship is Optimal mission. She, too, had killed a god, from a certain point of view. “Or else…?”

There's no “else”, Mallory. The Lady had adopted a softer, more calming tone.

Mal wouldn’t fall for it. “In that case…” With a ruffle of metallic wings, she manifested her Answer. The Mekhanite weapon glimmered in impossible colors as it activated. “Lady, you are charged with creating an implausible crossover, with bringing magic to a continuum which canonically has none, with enabling a Godmode Sue as she conducts a targeted attack on canon, and with harming an agent of the PPC.” She pointed the Answer at the goddess, ready to deploy. “The sentence is death.”

Point and click, Saint.

“Bang! Bang!” Mal shouted, moving the thumb on her finger gun for emphasis.

A beat. “What the hell?”

The Lady laughed again. Mal had the distinct impression that She lowered Herself down to speak to her. I make the rules here. And when I say you shouldn’t be here, I mean it.

Mal awoke on a soft surface. She abruptly sat up, scanning her surroundings. The Ubara Sana’s camp, a circular area cleared for battlefield injuries. She was on a stretcher, and next to her was a woman, presumably a medic. She put a hand on Mal’s shoulder.

“Wait! Calm down. Mal. It’s okay, you’re safe.”

Mal blinked. “What…” Ow fuck. Pain, which only got worse with a coughing fit. Broken rib, dislocated?

The medic answered the question she couldn’t ask. “Cavalry brought you in, said you had a seizure. Then, uh… Let’s just say we’re glad you’re still with us.”

The agent’s hands reached up to her face, and she sighed in relief as she felt her glasses. Her voice dropped to a whisper, to minimize the pain. “Fuck. I… I need to get back to my wagon.”

The other woman’s tone got sterner. “You’re not going anywhere just yet, young lady. Just lie down here for a few hours until we’re sure you won’t… Until we’re sure you’re okay.”

Mal knew she would be, but she couldn’t exactly argue with that. She would have to wait to get the answers to her questions.

First chapter —  Next chapter

[soulmate-game]

Maribat March 2021 @maribatmarch-2k21

Day 1: Found Family

“Ah! Bonjour!” A cheery voice called, as a short Eurasian girl bound over to the unfairly intimidating mob of tall people with sharp eyes. Chloe had called in a favor. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe told me that your tour guide cancelled at the last minute, so she blackmail—sorry, begged me to fill in for them. You are the Wayne’s, non?”

The one at the front of the group, clearly Bruce Wayne since Marinette didn’t live under a rock and had seen the man on several American news broadcasts before, nodded and cleared his throat. Man, was he intimidating. Even when he shot her a dazzling smile that was sure to blind Paparazzi with fake cheer. It was a nice smile, Marinette wasn’t about to deny. But it was empty. Distant. And Marinette wasn’t going to buy it for a second.

“Yes, that’s us. Mademoiselle Bourgeois mentioned she had asked a close friend of hers to take care of our tour.”

Marinette nodded again, clasping her hands behind her back. “I guarantee, you won’t miss anything the tour guide would have shown you. In fact, Chloe mentioned that you all were very curious about the now retired Parisian heroes, right? My former best friend ran the Ladyblog back when they were active. I am more than confident that I can answer any questions you have while we go through the city.”

A boy with a white streak in his hair rose his hand, as if he was in a class and needed to wait to be called on. Which, considering the sheer size of their family, Marinette was actually grateful for. But damn, this was another imposing figure. Slightly taller than even the six-foot-three-inches that Bruce Wayne owned, he was solidly built and rocked a brown leather jacket and ripped black jeans. Marinette smiled and nodded for him to speak.

“How old are you? Because I don’t know if twelve year olds are allowed to do guided tours,” there was an obvious tease in his voice, but there was also legitimate concern in his blue-green eyes. Marinette almost missed that concern amid her quickly building annoyance. She even felt her eyes twitch.

“I’m turning eighteen in a few months if you need to know, Monsieur,” she evened out the bite in her voice with an overly sweet smile. “And if you want to get lost and possibly pickpocketed in the busy streets of Paris, then please continue to make comments on my height. If not, we can begin our tour and you might even enjoy it.”

Several Wayne’s snickered at her comeback, one man in particular elbowing the white haired gentleman with a little too much glee. Even the stoic Bruce laughed softly, and a boy with enough bags under his eyes to make the airport jealous nearly fell over himself with his suppressed laughter.

The man himself just snorted, sending her a lopsided smirk that oddly radiated approval. It was almost as if she had passed some sort of test.

“My name’s Jason, Pixie. You already know B. The guy trying to break my ribs,” he pointedly shoved off the one who had elbowed him, “is Dick. He’s Bruce’s first adoptive casualty. The one that looks like a zombie is Tim, we might need to take a break to get him more coffee before he passes out halfway through. The one who hasn’t stopped glaring at you is Damian, the badass redhead is Barbara but we all call her Babs. The annoying blonde is Stephany, the other cool badass over there is Cass. She doesn’t talk much. And the one trying to pretend he doesn’t know us is Duke.”

Each member he introduced gave her a little wave or nod. Even Damian managed a short nod of acknowledgement before resuming his glare. He looked to be a couple years younger than her, so she just brushed it off as teenage drama.

“Alright then! It is very nice to meet you all. Now, Chloe did inform me that you guys are very multilingual, which is another reason she asked me instead of one of our other friends. If you ever need it, I obviously am fluent in both French and English. But added to that, I am fluent in Cantonese, Mandarin, Italian, and I know basic survival Japanese. I also know French Sign Language, though I’m not sure if that’s very useful for you unfortunately. If you ever need to communicate non-verbally, I will do my best to accommodate that. Now, I believe you guys were scheduled to start the tour with a visit to the Louvre, non? Right this way.”

As Marinette led the large group out of the Grand Paris, they didn’t bother taking time to admire the sights before asking questions.

“Have you ever met one of the heroes?” Dick, who might have been shorter than Jason and Bruce but was muscular enough to still inspire caution (and admiration), asked. His blue eyes seemingly stared right through Marinette as he continued; “If you’re almost eighteen, then they must have been active through a lot of your school career.”

Marinette smiled. “They did only retire last year,” she agreed with a nod. “Yes, I have met all of the Parisian heroes at least once,” she snorted at a stray thought. “In fact, I met Chat Noir quite a lot. You see, my old College was basically ground zero for a lot of akuma attacks. And by a lot, I mean a majority of them,” she shook her head before pausing to get everyone to cross a street. “After a while, Chat Noir started calling me ‘princess’ to make fun of how often he had to save me. He’s an annoying ass.”

Despite her words, everyone behind her could easily hear the fondness there. They all traded glances. What if this was a Lois and SuperMan situation? Regardless, they all had a suspicion that Marinette knew more about the heroes than she let on. Or, at least more about Chat Noir.

“When you say that your school was a hotspot for Akuma attacks,” Bruce spoke up cautiously, his Dad Senses going haywire. He didn’t like how nonchalantly she had said it— she was far too casual. Sure enough, he watched as the muscles between her shoulders stiffened slightly at the conversation change. “What do you mean? Surely it couldn’t have been that bad if the school is still around.”

Marinette sucked her teeth, grimacing. “The school is still there, yeah, but only because of Ladybug’s ability. You’ve heard about the Cure, right?” It was Tim who answered her;

“Yeah. It fixed the damage done during a fight, right?” He asked, tilting his head a little. Marinette ignored her brief thought that the gesture made him look like a curious puppy. She sighed.

“Yeah. But when they say damage, they mean everything. Injuries, collateral. Death,” she said the last example darkly, far too much weight behind the word for it to be meaningless. She heard Jason hiss in sympathy. “But there are good things. The Cure also erased anyone’s memories of dying besides the vague knowledge that it did happen, so there isn’t much trauma there to unpack. Not as much as there could have been anyway,” she assured them. “And I’m one of the lucky ones. I never died, and I was never Akumatized.”

“Hmph,” Damian’s voice cut through the brief silence that followed her admission. She looked back at him to see his sharp green eyes staring right into her. “You don’t honestly believe that’s lucky.” It wasn’t a question. Marinette clenched her jaw, turning around and ignoring him.

Because, no. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t lucky that she was the only one that remembered everything— all of the deaths, all of the Akumatizations, everything that others mercifully forgot. Since she lived through all of it, she remembered all of it. And survivor’s guilt is nothing to scoff at.

But she wasn’t about to reveal her trauma, or at the very least the full scope of it, to people she had just met and was leading on a tour.

“If you look to the left, you’ll see a statue that was made depicting Ladybug and Chat Noir back during the first years of their activity,” she suddenly told them, gesturing to the still-standing statue. Nobody missed the obvious topic change, but nobody commented on it either. Turns out the statue was something they had been looking forward to seeing in person, Tim even went up to take a few photos with his camera. Barbara took a few circles around the statue, easily pivoting her wheelchair around it as if she was trying to see every angle and imperfection possible. Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight.

“Your family are pretty big fans, huh?” She asked Cass and Duke, the only ones that had stayed back with her. Duke snorted, and Cass gave her a small grin.

“They like to keep up to date with all the heroes,” Duke answered with a shrug. “Since we’re so high profile, it isn’t weird for us to be saved by one here or there even when we’re away from Gotham.”

Marinette just gave him an odd look, furrowing her brows. “But the Miraculous team has been disbanded since HawkMoth was defeated,” she reminded them. “There’s no need for them to save anybody anymore.”

“Old habits,” Cass spoke up softly, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes locked with Marinette’s. “Not easy to break.”

The smaller woman had a feeling that Cass wasn’t talking about her family’s habit of keeping up to date on heroes.

“Alright! We need to head to the next stop or we might not have time to see everything!”

The tour went pretty similarly. The walks between stops were pleasant, and filled with questions about the period of time where HawkMoth was active. Marinette wasn’t even the least bit surprised nor put off; everyone was curious about those years now that the tourism restriction was lifted and people could ask freely about it. Besides the many questions about the Heroes, Marinette found the group to be very pleasant company. They were polite, but also rowdy in a very endearing way. She caught a lot of inside jokes they had with each other, and a lot of good natured teasing and fighting. They even managed to rope her into it somehow, and she found herself snidely teasing Damian or casually threatening Tim with not allowing them a coffee break. She even got to ride on Jason’s shoulders for a bit after he made another comment on her height that she Did Not Appreciate. But the ride she got made it worth it.

But soon the sun was high in the sky, and it was about time for them to take a lunch break. They had all been walking for hours with only a few chances to rest, and honestly Marinette was impressed that none of them seemed too tired out by it.

“Alright,” she put her hands on her hips proudly. “Since some of you won’t stop whining about needing coffee or being hungry— Dick, don’t you dare buy anything from that vendor! I’m gonna lead you all to my parent’s bakery so we can have lunch and caffeinate all of you. And conveniently enough,” she smiled widely. “The bakery is right across the street from my old College! So you’ll be able to get a look at where the majority of Akuma attacks happened, and maybe I can tell you a few specific stories if you want,” she offered. There were a couple cheers (Tim and Dick) from the crowd and everyone seemed pretty pleased with the next step in their tour. Smiling, Marinette turned and began to lead them in the direction of her home.

Sirens blared, a fire truck zooming down the street next to them.

Headed in the same direction.

Marinette frowned, watching it go. “That’s weird. I hope everyone’s okay, whatever happened,” she mused idly. But as they kept going forward, the sirens didn’t get any softer. If anything, they started getting louder again after a while. Marinette was visibly concerned by then, her pace picking up. “This is my neighborhood,” she told the solemn group behind her. “I know everyone on this street—“ they rounded the corner, and Marinette stopped in her tracks. Her world ground to a halt.

There was the fire truck, stopped right in front of her bakery.

Which was completely ablaze.

A string of curses flew out of her mouth, the little Eurasian wasting no more time before sprinting towards the building. She could hear people yelling at her to wait, slow down, stop! But she ignored them. The only thing on her mind was that her home was on fire.

“Marinette! Wait!” Dick reached out to grab her arm, but like a snake Marinette easily slipped out of his grip and continued forward. Steph was next, deciding to just tackle Marinette— to no avail. The Parisian just shouldered the bigger woman off of her with pure adrenaline fueling her muscles, and everyone else knew by then that they could not stop her. The Wayne’s decided all they could do was jog behind Marinette, keeping her in sight as they tried to gauge the damage.

“The top floors don’t look like they have even been touched by the fire yet,” Tim whispered, though his eyes flew between the building and their tour guide. Marinette was speaking rapidly with a firefighter that wasn’t immediately busy, trying to get information. But before anyone could decipher what was said, Marinette tore a large strip off the bottom of her shirt and tied it in a hasty mask around her mouth.

“Wait!” Bruce was the first to realize what was happening, with his years of experience with self sacrificing children and their stupid stunts. But Marinette managed to kick him away before he could grab her, dashing into the inferno without paying any heed to the many protests that followed her.

The group of Gothamites could do nothing but watch the flaming building, then. If they went inside, it would only overcrowd a hazardous area. Minutes passed, and there was movement in the fire. Out of the doorway came Marinette and a firefighter, both having to work together to carry the body of a large man outside. The sight of the man made the Gotham family blink— he was as big as Bane! And that was nothing to scoff at. But despite his unusual size and muscle mass, the man had all the signs of being a normal civilian.

Marinette didn’t stop there. She ran back in. Coming out a lot more quickly this time with a barely conscious Asian woman— everyone saw the resemblance between her and this new woman immediately.

It had to be her mother.

“Shit,” Duke hissed. Nobody else could say a word. It wasn’t looking good, and this wasn’t a situation where random vigilantes showing up out of nowhere could actually help. Not this late into the fire. Bruce’s hands curled into fists.

The woman that everyone guessed was Marinette’s mother was suddenly struck by lucidity; she gasped and grabbed at Marinette’s hand without seeming to see who she was even talking to. A single word that none of the Waynes could hear left her throat, and judging by Marinette’s returning panic it hadn’t been good.

She rushed right back into the building, and came back out with the last firefighter who had been searching inside.

Marinette carried a child. She screamed out in panicked French;

“She’s not breathing! I need first aid now!”

That was their cue. The firefighters started their hoses, focusing on getting rid of the flames now that nobody was left inside the building. Bruce and Damian got to Marinette first, and this time she listened as they instructed her to set the child down. Damian, being smaller and having more hands-on medical knowledge, took charge of the resuscitation. Marinette sat there silently, eyes riveted to the small child— a girl.

But Marinette wasn’t reacting like a normal civilian to tragedy. She was eerily calm, eyes focused and barely concealing a terrible rage. She took over chest compressions when Damian started to lose momentum, not giving up.

But then the EMTs arrived, and it was only five minutes with the child hooked onto oxygen that the news arrived—

Marinette heard the monitors on the ambulance flatline before she even registered what people were trying to tell her. Manon. Manon was—

Marinette didn’t register Nadya Chammack at first. She was just another body in the quickly growing sea of them. That is, until she heard Nadya’s pained shriek. A mother who had just lost her baby girl.

“Perhaps we should head back,” Bruce offered softly, giving Marinette space but keeping a keen eye on her. He saw her begin to tremble, then shake. He was pretty sure he could hear the grinding of her teeth for a second before she went still. Just… all movement stopped, the tears that had been building just falling silently for a second before they ended.

And he recognized that carefully practiced emptiness in her bluebell eyes. The same emptiness he had seen in Damian’s eyes when he had first arrived at the Manor. The same emptiness he saw in Dick’s eyes in the days following his parent’s deaths.

The same emptiness he saw in the mirror, every time he had another nightmare about the day Jason had been taken from him, years ago.

Suddenly he could imagine all too well exactly what kind of strength she had to have, to avoid her negative emotions ever being used against her during Hawkmoth’s reign. Especially if she had constantly been dealing with her friends and family being Akumatized and/or dying on multiple occasions.

She didn’t even seem to have heard him. Bruce sighed.

“I called Chloe,” Barbara informed everyone solemnly, holding up her phone for emphasis. “She’ll be here in five.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Chloe hadn’t come alone. With her had been Adrien Agreste, former model when his father hadn’t been… well, in prison. Nowadays he was just a normal student who occasionally gave lectures on neglect and child abuse, and how to help children in those situations.

And, apparently, he was also Marinette’s closest friend. Even more so than Chloe. As soon as they arrived back at the Grand Paris, Chloe herded everyone up into her suite and she and Adrien surrounded Marinette with pillows and blankets. Adrien curled around Marinette like an affectionate cat, and Damien even swore he heard the guy purr at some point

“We should probably leave,” Bruce whispered to their hostess, who looked inbetween him and her friends for a moment before jerking her head towards the door.

“I wanna talk to you first,” Chloe whispered back. Once they all filed out into the hallway and the door was safely closed, Chloe took a breath. “First, I want to tell you that I got a call from the hospital. Marinette’s father is stable, but in a coma right now.”

“Is that the man who looked like he could bench press a car for fun?” Dick asked, earning a weak grin from the Bourgeois heiress.

“Yeah, that’s him. But…” Chloe’s face fell, and she looked around as if to double check nobody was eavesdropping. She still lowered her voice anyway. “Her mother, Sabine. She…” Chloe swallowed a lump in her throat, images of the extremely kind Chinese woman flashing through her mind without permission. “She didn’t make it.”

Several people took a sharp breath, acknowledging everything that had gone so wrong for Marinette on a day that had started so perfectly.

“The smoke?” Cass asked gently, but Chloe winced and shifted on her feet.

“No. They… there were rope marks on Sabine’s neck,” Chloe clenched her eyes shut at the admission. “Marinette’s dad might be big, but he’s not a fighter. Sabine, though… Sabine was. She was raised in a martial arts family back in China. I’ve seen Sabine take down five men at once, all twice her size,” Chloe kicked her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “Somebody knew… somebody knew that the little Chinese woman was a threat but the big baker with tons of muscle was harmless.”

Nobody took that well. Not only had Marinette just lost her home and half of her family, but her father was in a coma and it had all been foul play.

“Okay,” Bruce nodded once the news had time to sink in. They could help with this; this was their specialty. They might have only known Marinette for six hours, but she had made a big impression. It wasn’t just anybody that could mesh with his family so seamlessly in that short span of time. “Is there anything else?”

“I want you to get temporary custody of her,” Chloe said it the way only Chloe Bourgeois could. With her back straight, chin high, and the tone of a woman who expected to be listened to or else she’d make life Hell for the person that didn’t take her seriously. Bruce could only blink.

“Can I ask for your reasoning?”

“Marinette has been closing herself off more and more over the years,” Chloe admitted. “Hawkmoth’s reign was hard on her. Only Adrien really knows everything she went through during those years. But even after the disbanding of the team, she hasn’t… she hasn’t allowed herself to get close to anybody new. That’s why I tricked her into doing your tour. She needed to socialize with new people, and if she wouldn’t do it herself then I had to pull some strings.”

A few eyebrows raised at the admission that Chloe had fully planned for Marinette to be their tour guide the whole time. It honestly seemed like the kind of well meaning manipulation that one of them would try to pull off.

“She likes you,” Chloe’s voice went soft again, showing how uncharacteristically serious she was about that fact. “She was comfortable enough to let you guys carry her back here. To let you try to help Manon. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but it says a lot to me and Adrien. And… getting her away from Paris for a while is probably a good idea. She was planning to go to Gotham for university anyway.”

The Waynes traded glances before Bruce crosses his arms and asked some more questions first. Doesn’t Marinette have other family? Answer; only her grandmother, who travels all the time and nobody ever knows where she is until she shows up. Bruce agreed that Gina Dupain didn’t exactly seem like a good candidate for Marinette’s new guardian with that description. But finally, to none of his children's surprise, he did end up agreeing.

“But,” he held up a single finger. “We’ll Wait here in Paris for a week, so that she can try to salvage everything she can from her house and so we can get an idea on how her father is doing. There’s still a chance he’ll come out of his coma fairly quickly. And of course, we will only go through with this if Marinette agrees when we ask her tomorrow.”

Chloe agreed to those terms, looking like a weight had been lifted off of her.

Chloe never cut corners when taking care of her hive. And if that meant making sure that her brave soldier bee could move on to start a new hive, one that was better equipped to take care of her, then Chloe would do everything she could to help that move. And really; Chloe was far more resourceful and observant than people gave her credit for. The butts definitely matched, and Bruce Wayne was her last hope to get Marinette the support she needed. Outside of Adrien, anyway.

Chloe took a breath, watching the Waynes trickle off into their own rooms. Marinette was like the little sister she never wanted, but grew to love more than anything. Though, Chloe knew she really chose Marinette as her sister the same way they both chose Adrien as their brother. She just didn’t want to admit she was sentimental like that. But Chloe knew that someone like Marinette needed a bigger family. More support.

She could only hope that Marinette and the Waynes grew to become family for her like she and Adrien had. Kwami knew that Marinette needed all the help she could get for the foreseeable future.

“You did good, my Queen.”

“I know, Pollen. Now we just have to find out who dared hurt my hive.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dude this took so long to write, but I’m actually really proud of it. Probably gonna take this Maribat March a little differently than last year, and make a few longer stories by connecting some of the prompts together. Maybe each week will be a full story? Idk I’ll figure it out. I know I’m behind but I’m working on it.

I tried to keep the angst out, but it found it’s way in here anyway. Oh well!

[yellowsuitcase]

You’re mine // Draco Malfoy

A/N: This is an anon request I received. I had to alter the wording of one of the prompts a little bit for it to make sense, I hope that’s okay. Also please be mindful that this is my FIRST smut I’ve ever written. I’m happy with how it turned out but omg was it difficult. But anyway, enjoy and don’t be afraid to request! {Prompt list}

Summary: Draco and Y/N are friends with benefits until Y/N decides she’s done with him. Cedric tries to get with Y/N Draco gets jealous and smut follows.

Warning(s): SMUT! Swearing, Angst, Fluff

Word count: 4.4k

Prompts: #1 #4 #7 #28 #35 #47

All she could think about was his face. The way his grey eyes had pierced her soul last night—the feeling of his hands on her hips. 

“Earth to Y/N.”

Her attention snapped back to the present. A perplexed Hannah was looking at her. “You alright? You looked really zoned out.”

Y/N blinked rapidly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Sorry. What were we talking about again?” Y/N asked while lightly slapping her cheeks to bring herself back to reality.

“We were going over our plans to study for the transfiguration exam. We agreed to meet in the library on Sunday.” Hannah said, her tone sounding slightly irritated.

“Oh yeah, that’s…” Y/N caught sight of him, her eyes glued to him until he left the Great Hall, “fine. That’s fine.” 

Hannah followed her gaze. “Seriously, Y/N? Malfoy? That’s who you hooked up with last night?”

Her friend’s words drove fear into her chest, “Would you shut up? Someone’s gonna hear you!” Y/N whisper yelled. Hannah threw her hands up in exasperation. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and picked up another slice of bread.“So what if it was Malfoy? What’s wrong with that?” she asked, oblivious as to why Hannah was so upset.

“What’s wrong with that? Y/N, you simply can’t be serious. Malfoy’s an arse. He bullies anyone who isn’t a Slytherin. Hell, he’s bullied you numerous times. Not to mention he’s not even that attractive.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open upon hearing her friend’s words. “Not attractive? Hannah, have you gone blind? Have you looked at the guy?

Hannah rolled her eyes and dropped her face into her hands. “There’s no hope for you. It’s over. I mean, I can already tell you’ve caught feelings.”

“I most certainly have not!” Y/N exclaimed, inadvertently causing the people around her to stare. “I’m not an idiot, it was a one-time thing,” she muttered while picking at her eggs.

“I hope you mean that,” Hannah said. Y/N couldn’t meet her eyes.

Her friend sighed and reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand. “Don’t think too much, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

Y/N ignored her and pulled her hand away while saying, “Snape will have our heads if we’re late, we’d better go.”

The two Hufflepuffs rose to their feet and made their way to the doors. As they were walking through them, Y/N felt a hand grab her wrist. She let out a little yelp and whipped her head around to see none other than Draco Malfoy. “I need to speak with you,” he said, his tone firm.

Hannah had noticed her friend disappear from her side. When Y/N looked back at her, her hip was popped, and her eyebrow cocked. Her facial expression suggested she wouldn’t be happy if Y/N stayed behind to talk with Draco.

Y/N gave her an apologetic smile, hoping it would appease Hannah. It did not. She shook her head and promptly stomped off to class. 

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face the blonde boy behind her. His hand hadn’t left her wrist, but he let go once he realized he was still holding it. Clearing his throat, he looked both ways before speaking. 

“Have you told anyone?” his grey eyes once again pierced her soul.

She shook her head, but then remembered Hannah. “I haven’t told anyone, but Hannah did figure it out,” she said, nervously biting her lip. His eyes flickered to her lips before returning to her eyes.

“If we are to continue this, nobody can know. Do you understand me?”

Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes from widening in shock. “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? You want to continue this?”

Draco raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Her hands waved frantically. “No, no, I do, I just… I dunno, I didn’t think you’d want to is all. But I’d like to continue, yes. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Draco gave her a displeased look, “You’re very annoying,” he said, “But you’re accessible so just keep it under wraps, alright? Besides, you wouldn’t want to see what happens if I find out you’ve told people. Understand?”

Y/N was quite frankly insulted by the way he spoke about her. He straight up, had called her “accessible.” She was about to give him a piece of her mind, but then he gave her a look, and she thought better of it and nodded frantically. 

“Yes. My lips are sealed.” She rocked back and forth on her heels in an attempt to calm herself down.

Draco scanned her up and down before nodding. “Good,” he said. And then he began to walk away. Y/N didn’t think before calling out to him. 

“How will I know when you wanna, you know, do it?”

He didn’t bother to stop walking when he called back, “I’ll find you.”

-------

Y/N buried her face in her pillow. If she concentrated, she could still smell his cologne on it. She breathed in deeply as she reminisced the events of a few nights prior. Somehow, Draco had found her while she was taking a midnight trip to the kitchens. He didn’t have to say anything to her, she knew what he wanted, and frankly, she wanted it too. 

He took them to her dorm since it was closer. He pushed her up against the wall, wrapped his hand around her throat, and whispered in her ear, “Such a pretty mouth. You’d better keep it shut, though. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, would you, darling?”

She still got chills when she thought about it. Lucky for her, it was a Saturday, meaning she could stay in bed as long as she liked. Or so she thought.

“Wake up. They’re serving pancakes today. You don’t wanna be late,” Hannah said in a sing-song voice. Y/N groaned; she really needed Hannah to stop interrupting her daydreams.

“Oh, don’t be like that. They’re serving blueberry pancakes.”

Y/N flung the sheets off her chest. “On second thought, let’s go,” she said. Hannah laughed, “I knew that’d get you up. You really need to stop staying up so late, though.”

“Yeah yeah, you need to stop getting up so early. The plants aren’t going to die if you fail to water them at exactly six in the morning.”

“How do you know? You forget to water Pepper all the time.” Hannah replied.

Pepper was Y/N’s little cactus. It sat on her nightstand in a yellow pot. She loved Pepper dearly.

“Hannah, Pepper is a cactus, and cactuses don’t need a lot of water, so take that!”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Come on; we might legitimately miss pancakes if you don’t hurry.” And with that, the Hufflepuff threw on a sweatshirt and jeans and rushed down to the Great Hall.

Y/N was practically running through the corridors; she could almost taste the pancakes on her tongue. “Geez Y/N, wait up!” Hannah called after her, desperately trying to keep up. 

In her haste, Y/N didn’t notice the group of people turning the corner, and she wasn’t able to stop her feet. She crashed right into the boy in the middle of them.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” Y/N stammered, holding out her hand to the boy she’d knocked over. 

He got to his hands and knees and pushed himself up. When he turned around and faced her, Y/N’s heart sunk. 

“Y/L/N?” He scoffed. “Look where you’re going next time. Blimey, what a waste of space,” he shouted, his minions laughing along with him. Y/N felt her face burn with embarrassment and a little bit of hurt. 

Hannah, who had caught up to her friend, chimed in, “Shut up, Malfoy, why do you insist on being such a git?”

“You wanna say that again, Abbott?” Draco threatened, reaching inside his robe for his wand.

“Hey, hey, let’s just calm down, alright? Nobody’s hurt, we ought to keep it that way,” Y/N reasoned, despite her desire to give Draco a right punch in the gut. Reluctantly, he put his wand away.

“Come on, boys, these twits aren’t worth our time,” Draco said coldly as he and his friends strutted away.

“What a knobhead, I mean honestly, you’d think he’d be a bit nicer towards the girl he’s sleeping with,” Hannah said through gritted teeth. Y/N didn’t even care about her friend’s volume. After all, it didn’t matter anymore. 

“Well, he’s not sleeping with me again. Not after that, I’m done with his shit,” Y/N said, tears gathering in her eyes.

Hannah smiled upon hearing her words, “Bloody hell, it’s about time you realized he was no good. Now let’s get some pancakes, yeah? Come on, you deserve some.” The pair walked into the Great Hall to begin their pancake feast.

---------

A few weeks later, Y/N was sitting on a bench by one of the many windows in the Hogwarts corridors when a boy wearing a Hufflepuff scarf walked up to her. She looked up and noticed it was Cedric Diggory. Cedric was only a year above her, but they hadn’t talked much.

“Cedric? Do you need anything?”

He smiled, “Nothing in particular, no. I just saw you sitting alone, and I thought you might enjoy some company. Am I mistaken?”

Y/N felt her face flush. “Oh, uhm no, you’re not wrong at all,” she stammered.

Cedric stood awkwardly. “Oh! How can you sit if I don’t move over?” Y/N asked while she gave a nervous laugh. Cedric was by far one of the most attractive boys in Hufflepuff, so it only made sense that his desire to sit with her, of all people, was making Y/N nervous.

He chuckled at her anxiousness and took a seat next to her. The bench was relatively small due to Y/N’s things taking up a quarter of the space. This caused her hips to touch his. This made her face burn even more.

“So why are you all alone on a Friday afternoon?” he asked.

Y/N felt her heart clench, “Oh well, my best friend, Hannah, and I are actually in a little bit of a row at the moment. I may have unknowingly talked about her crush a bit too loudly, and they overheard. She’s not very happy with me, understandably.”

“Ah, I see. But it was an accident, and surely she’ll forgive you sooner rather than later. Don’t you think?” Cedric asked, trying to reassure Y/N.

“I hope so. Lately, she’s been a bit dodgy. She’s been really short with me, yelling at me all the time. It’s not like her,” she remarked. 

“Perhaps she’s dealing with something personal. And if she is, then she’s probably taking out her frustrations on you. And don’t get me wrong,” he said while holding his hands up, “that doesn’t make her actions, okay, but if that is the case, then that would mean you’re not the problem. Does that make sense?” Cedric asked.

She gave him a warm smile and nodded her head. “Yeah, actually, it does. Thank you, I never thought about it like that,” she said.

He laughed, the deep baritone of his voice coming to the forefront. “Well, I’m glad I could show you a different perspective on the situation. Sometimes that’s all you need.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” she said. When he didn’t reply, her eyes fell to her lap, too nervous to look him in the eyes. But then she felt his hand on her face. He gently took her chin between his thumb and fingers and turned her face upwards to look at him. He was smirking. 

“You don’t need to be nervous, sweetheart. I don’t bite,” Cedric said as he moved his hand from her chin to her hair. He pushed some stray strands behind her ear so that her face wasn’t covered.

Y/N’s heart began to pound. This boy was making her sweat. She noticed then that he had grey eyes, just like Draco. Her chest grew tight at the thought of him. She hated to admit it, but often she found herself missing the blonde boy, even if he was an arse.

Her attention was brought back to Cedric when he spoke, “If I were to ask you on a date, would you say yes?”

Air got caught in Y/N’s throat, and she launched into a fit of coughs. Cedric immediately reached for his wand. He took her hands and put one on top of the other to create a makeshift bowl. Pointing his wand to her hands, he said, “Aguamenti.”

Water spouted from the tip of his wand and flowed into Y/N’s hands. She eagerly slurped it up, soothing her dry throat. They repeated this process a couple more times before Y/N was satisfied.

“Thank you, that was so embarrassing. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

Cedric only laughed. “No problem. You sure you’re alright?” he asked.

She nodded fervently, “Yes, I promise.”

“Well, in that case, what do you say? To the date, I mean.”

Y/N tapped her finger to her lips, pretending to think. Cedric gave her an unimpressed look that made her giggle and break character. “Yes, Cedric, I’d love to go on a date with you,” she said.

A huge grin broke out on his face, and he rushed to his feet, “Brilliant, I’ll meet you in the common room tomorrow night at eight. Don’t be late!” he called as he sprinted down the hall. Y/N could only laugh at his playful nature. “Okay!” she yelled back to him. 

Once he rounded the corner and was out of sight, she let herself plop down on her back with a dreamy sigh. “I’m going on a date with Cedric Diggory,” she spoke out loud.

“How pathetic,” said a voice.

Y/N sat straight up and sharply whipped her head around. Sure enough, there stood Draco, this time without his minions.

“Shut up, Malfoy, what do you care anyway?” Y/N muttered.

“I don’t,” he said before he took a bite of the green apple in his hand, “It’s just that you fancied me a few weeks ago, didn’t you, Y/L/N?”

Y/N shifted in her seat and crossed her arms defensively. “So what if I did. I reckon you were starting to grow fond of me too.”

Draco scoffed, a smile appearing on his lips. “You’re insane to think I’d ever fancy you.”

His words were like a slap in the face to Y/N. She honestly thought that he would have developed some mutual feelings for her. It turns out she was wrong.

“Well, at least I’m not a low life scumbag like you. All you care about is your reputation. Don’t you have any emotions? Did you even care about me when we were fooling around, or was I just a toy to you?” Y/N’s chest heaved with anger as she finished yelling at him.

He stood eerily still. Silence fell over the corridor.

“You don’t even care anymore, do you? You never did.”

Draco clenched his fists, trying to control himself. But the longer he looked at her, the weaker his resolve became. Without thinking, he bolted towards Y/N, startling her as he did so.

He grabbed her chin forcefully and tilted her face upwards, a stark difference from how Cedric had just minutes ago. She avoided his eyes, breathing heavily with fear. 

“Look at me,” Draco demanded. Her eyes remained fixated on his chest.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said, look at me!” 

He was yelling now, his grip growing tighter. Y/N was afraid of him leaving bruises, so she caved and let her eyes travel to his. His pupils were wide, and his teeth were gritted. He saw the fright in her eyes and smirked. “Scared, Y/L/N?” he asked, chuckling at the look on her face, “you should be. It seems that you’ve forgotten who you belong to, little girl.”

Y/N’s heart must’ve been going a mile a minute; it felt like it was going to break out of her ribcage. The man in front of her looked so attractive. She began to feel her temperature rising.

“You’re mine,” Draco said before he pressed his lips to hers aggressively. She gasped into his mouth; he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He ran his hand up her neck and into her hair, where he grasped it tightly between his fingers. This new leverage allowed him to angle her chin upwards. He kissed her intensely until he was forced to pull away to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes, he saw Y/N’s flushed face and swollen lips. She wasted no time and smashed her lips back onto his, letting out a soft moan as she did.

“God, you’re breathtaking,” he muttered, pulling away once again.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I hate you,” she laughed. Draco smirked and looked away from her lips so that he could gaze into her eyes once more. “Liar,” he said. Y/N bit her lip. 

“Perhaps,” she said while giggling. 

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss her neck, simultaneously running his hand underneath her button-up shirt. He heard her breath waver as he did this. Little noises escaped his mouth when he sucked her skin between his teeth. She squirmed under his touch, unable to sit still. His hand reached her breast, and he gingerly squeezed her through her bra. 

“Let’s take this elsewhere,” Y/N suggested. Draco paid her no mind and continued to suck on her neck. 

“Draco, please. We can’t do this here, and I want you now,” she pleaded.

He pulled away to smile smugly at her. “Desperate today, aren’t we?” 

Y/N whined in response, wiggling her hips. Draco laughed at her eagerness. “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

They jumped to their feet and grasped each other’s hand as they dashed down the hallway and all the way to the Slytherin common room entrance. “Dementor,” Draco whispered. The walls opened up to reveal a stairway heading down into the dark common room Y/N had come to be familiar with. Luckily, nobody was in the main room.

They practically ran up the steps to the boys’ dorm. Older Slytherin boys had figured out how to dispel the charm preventing females from entering a long time ago, so the pair were able to get inside easily.

Draco burst through the door to his shared room with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. “Out,” he demanded. The boys didn’t ask questions. They simply dropped what they were doing and left the dorm room.

He turned to Y/N. “Where were we?” he asked playfully while he took his shoes off.

“Don’t tease me, Malfoy,” she replied snarkily as she did the same.

“You’re not the one in charge here, love,” Draco snapped while pushing her backward towards his bed. She fell onto the emerald green sheets covering his mattress. He wasted no time climbing on top of her. She immediately rolled her hips upwards, craving friction. Draco grabbed her hips and pushed them into the bed. “Patience, love,” he said softly.

But Y/N wasn’t having any of it. She writhed underneath him, trying to break free of his hold. He didn’t like this one bit, so he put his hand on her throat. This halted her movements instantly.

“Be still, little girl. Good things come to those who wait,” he said in a sultry voice. Y/N nodded, her eyes wide open. 

Slowly, he trailed his hand from her hickey covered neck down to her chest where he began to unbutton her shirt. She struggled to remain motionless as he skillfully removed her shirt and tie. He licked his lips when her shirt was out of the way, and he could see her full breasts. 

“Take it off,” he commanded. Y/N sat up and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. When it fell from her shoulders, Draco latched his mouth onto her nipple, causing her to let out a deep moan. He smirked as he flicked her nub with his tongue. His other hand was making its way to her center. 

Y/N didn’t notice his touch until a finger slipped inside her. She gasped sharply and felt herself clench down on him. He detached his mouth from her breast and lightly laughed. 

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Y/N moaned and whispered, “Just fuck me already, you arsehole.”

Draco hummed, pretending to consider her request. “No, I don’t think I will. I don’t think you deserve it.”

She whined and rolled her hips again. As she did this, he slipped another digit into her pussy. “Fuck, Draco,” she groaned. Suddenly, he removed his fingers. He watched as she pressed her thighs together, trying to stimulate herself. “What the hell?” she asked angrily. 

“Do you want me to get naked or not, darling?”

Y/N crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. He simply laughed at her and began to unbutton his own shirt as well as remove his belt. She took this time to kick off her skirt and underwear. 

Draco bit his lip when he saw her bare pussy. He felt his dick twitch in his pants, and he sped up his pace, eager to continue what he started. 

Once he’d gotten his pants off, he leaned his face downwards and began to kiss the insides of her soft thighs. She propped herself up onto her elbows so she could watch as he got closer and closer to her center. When his tongue made contact with her pussy, she felt a shudder go through her entire being, and she let her head fall back onto the plush pillows.

“Draco,” she moaned as he sucked on her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Her hands found his hair, and she gripped his blonde locks tightly, trying to keep herself stable as he continued to lick and suck her.

He continues eating her out for nearly ten minutes before adding his fingers back into the equation. He swiftly slides three fingers inside her wet pussy. Y/N gasped out in pleasure. “Please,” she said, not quite aware of what she was begging for. Draco moved his fingers in and out of her while still sucking her clit. “Fuck! Right there, right there, please don’t stop,” she pleaded.

Draco obliged and maintained his pace. Y/N arched her back as it all became too much. Her mouth fell open as her climax overtook her system. Draco didn’t stop his motions. He continued stimulating her through her orgasm, only pulling away when he felt aftershock jolts pulse through her body. Y/N’s eyes began to close.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Draco said while pulling his boxers off and beginning to palm himself. He leaned down to kiss her softly, allowing Y/N to taste herself on his lips. She moaned into the kiss and ran her hands up his scalp. His hand reached for his nightstand to the left of his bed. Pulling away from the kiss, he dug into the drawer and pulled out a condom, quickly rolling it onto his dick.

She pulled him back in for another kiss while he lined himself up at her center and slightly pushed the tip inside. Y/N couldn’t resist the urge to wiggle her hips, successfully making Draco hiss. He put his hands on either side of her head and, without warning, slammed his dick inside her and began thrusting in and out at a quick pace. 

She cried out in ecstasy as she finally felt herself become full. The pressure in her abdomen began to build again. Draco’s eyebrows were tightly knit as he focused his energy into each firm thrust of his hips. The sound of skin slapping seemed to echo through the dorm.

Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist as he slowed his pace, opting to tease her rather than chase his own climax. The feeling of him gently pushing into her made Y/N whine in frustration. She wanted to reach her high so badly, and Draco was making it difficult. She decided she wanted to cum, so she sneakily stretched her hand down to her clit. But it was promptly slapped away by the man on top of her.

“Don’t even think about it, little girl,” he growled. But he began to pick up his pace, making Y/N mewl delightfully as the pressure once again began to increase. It seemed like Draco was getting close as well, his thrusts were sloppy, and he was panting hard.

“Please, please, I’m so close, Draco,” she cried out.

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he said in between grunts of pleasure.

He felt her pussy grow tighter as it contracted around his dick. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Each thrust felt better than the last. Her hips met his, eagerly, over and over until finally, she felt herself tip over the edge yet again. Y/N saw stars as Draco pounded into her even faster as he chased his release. He drove his dick in and out of her pussy until he, too, met his climax, cumming into the condom while her walls twitched around him. 

Draco lets his body collapse on top of her, both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. Slowly, he pulled himself out of her, hissing as he did. She whined at the loss of her feeling of fullness. He took off the condom, threw it into a nearby bin, and then lied down next to Y/N.

“That was incredible,” Y/N uttered quietly. Draco laughed when he saw the blissful look on her face. He rolled over so that his body was facing hers, and he pulled her towards him. She nestled her face into his chest. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. However, I do need to clear some things up,” Draco said while stroking her hair. She hummed against him.

“And what would that be?” she asked.

“Well, for starters, I’m gonna need you to tell Cedric you’ve changed your mind about your guys’ little date,” he said in a firm tone of voice. Y/N laughed into the crook of his neck. 

“I’m dead serious. If you don’t tell him, then I will. Don’t test me.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell Cedric I changed my mind. But does this mean we’re…”

“Official? Yes, it does. I thought I conveyed that when I told you you’re mine,” Draco said, reminding her of today’s previous events.

He felt her wiggle in his arms. “What’s got you so squirmy tonight? You haven’t sat still for even a moment,” he chuckled. She mumbled an answer.

“Didn’t quite catch that, love,” Draco teased.

“I said, you, you nitwit,” she whispered angrily. He laughed and placed a kiss on her head. It felt good to have her back in his arms. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go.

[dontbipanicjonsa]

Did Kit suddenly lose his ability to heart-eye or is Pol!Jon actually a thing.

I'm late to the fandom but I just finished S7 and I'm having thoughts.

I'm a reader of the books, and I hadn't watched the show till now because... I suck at watching shows with hour long episodes and more than three seasons.

What made me decide to watch it was the Pol!Jon discourse I found on the Internet.

I know enough about the show to understand how unlikely and out of character this theory would seem to show watchers. At the same time, I fully believe that book!Jon would be fully capable of something like this. But also, even though I do ship Jonsa in the books, I can't deny that Jonerys is.....a big deal. Everyone expects it to happen. It's a highly anticipated pairing and....I just couldn't honestly believe Pol!Jon because it is just so against the general expectation.

So I decided to watch the show. And now I've finished season 7 and I am astounded.

Let me preface this by saying that I went into S7 already disliking Jonerys (sue me) but I still fully expected to have some serious doubts about the validity of Jonsa. I fully expected to be at least somewhat convinced of Jonerys. Even hating the idea of Jon and Danaerys together, I still expected more.

There are a number of things I would like to note here.

First, Jonerys is a romance that is told, not shown. Davos talks about Jon watching Dany's "good heart" (hehe) to tell us Jon is attracted to Dany. But then Jon immediately dismisses it- and not in a way that looks like he's deflecting. He's not only dismissing it, he's dismissive of it. His mind is not in the conversation, it is beyond the Wall.

Similarly, Tyrion says (not in those words), "yeah right, and Jon only looks at you longingly coz he wants a military alliance with you". Not sure what I'm supposed to think about that....? First, Jon doesn't look at Dany longingly at all???? Not once. Second, is this line supposed to suggest that Jon is looking at her longingly for a reason that is not desperately wanting a military alliance....? Because we already know that that's exactly what he does want. Wtf do I make of this statement?????

There are other examples, but the point remains. People keep talking about Jon and Dany being into each other, and that is what is supposed to convince us that they are into each other (well yea Dany is) but Jon gives no indication of looking at her longingly, of falling in love with her, of being intrigued by her even. He's a brick wall.

Alright, I'll concede one (1) scene where I saw legitimate attraction on his face for a second- that is the cave scene. Even there tho, it's hard to tell if he's just watching her reaction carefully or if he wants to bang her.

On the other hand, Dany shows that she is into him. Even so, when I say she's into him, I mean she's attracted to him and intrigued by him. I cannot believe she loves him.

Next, I think it's interesting that in the episode before (or was it the same episode?) Jon bends the knee, we have a number of people (Tormund, Beric) talk about stuff like- kings not bending the knee leading to people dying, knowing what's important (the fight against the dead), being the shield that guards the realm of men blah blah I don't remember the exact words. Then he sees the WW and the Army of the Dead (again) and sees a dragon die. And then, the first opportunity he gets, he bends the knee. I want to point out here that the scenes really emphasise on Jon's thinking face after every conversation he has during their little gay party beyond the Wall. They focus on the look on his face again while he's watching the Army. Multiple times. And there's clearly something going on in his head, gears are turning.

One other scene that struck me is the scene where Jon and Dany are saying goodbye to each other (the Eastwatch episode). In the same episode (if I remember correctly) Jon calls them strangers, and then the goodbye scene comes and Dany says to Jon's little morbid joke, "I've grown used to him". Him being Jon. Two things to note here-

One, Jon considers them strangers but Dany has gotten "used to him". Maybe it's nothing, or maybe it's an indication of how the two of them are absolutely not on the same page (about anything).

Second, Jon's face after she says that. It shuts down. Like a door slamming. And then he says that "wish you good fortune in the wars to come" line, which has ZERO romance, or longing, but a whole lot of bad precedent (does that make sense?). Ouch. The thought that occured to me here is that Dany is being somewhat obvious about her feelings, and maybe, just maybe Jon has picked up on it. And that is why he reacts the way he does.

I wasn't sure so I compared the scene with the Jonsa forehead kiss scene in S6, and Jon's expressions after that kiss.

My logic was this- I assume that either Jon has become aware of Dany's feelings in the Eastwatch goodbye scene, or his own feelings for her. One of these assumptions is true. Which one?

If Jon has feelings for Sansa, then his confusion/awareness/discomfort regarding that are seen in that forehead kiss scene. So if Jon has become aware of his feelings for Dany, let's see how these two scenes compare?

My dudes. There is no comparison. Go watch it.

I watched both scenes with sound off, and the difference is insane. Jon looks at Sansa's lips. There's a moment's pause that's full of tension, and then his face shuts in a way, but it's a bit confused, a bit thoughtful.

Jon does not look at Dany's lips. He does not look confused, or thoughtful. This is not a romance.

Side observation- speaking of showing and telling, it's funny how we're shown Jon looking at Sansa's wolf bits, and told that Jon looks at Dany's good heart. Yes I'm talking about boobs but wolf bits and good heart is funnier. We literally see Jon look at the wolf bits twice, talk about it himself, in a completely unnecessary conversation...as opposed to being entirely dismissive of the good heart, even when someone else brings it up.

Back to the main point, one last thing I'd like to talk about is the scene where Jon actually bends the knee (not really). First, there are still no heart-eyes. Definitely not from Jon. Second, it's funny how Jon uses the exact hand-grabbing move that Sansa used on him last season, when she was trying to convince him to do something he didn't particularly wanna do (like he's now trying to do with Dany). This means that

1) he learnt that move from Sansa. He knows how effective it is XD

2) if the Jonerys hand-grab is romance, it stands to reason that the Jonsa hand-grab is romance too. I mean both the grabs are suspiciously similar.

Then, even after Dany "promises" that she'll help the North fight the WW, Jon still bends the knee. I felt both an odd sense of urgency coming from him, and an understandable hesitation. Or maybe that's just me.

Now suddenly, he becomes complimentary of her. But there's something weird about his compliments. They are completely generic. "They'll see you for what you are" and in the later episode, "you're not like the others". Wtf does that MEAN ??

Here's the thing...Jon could have paid Dany a way more specific, genuine sounding compliment after bending the knee (complete with heart eyes). I mean she did just fly over the Wall to rescue him and his men. He could have said more, something meaningful, but he didn't. He bent the knee like a house on fire (that doesn't make sense but you get what I mean I hope) and paid generic compliments. Then he pretended to sleep until she left and then sighed very loudly.

??? Romance??? WHERE????

Then the dragon pit. Heart-eyes still missing.

Then the sex scene. What do I say? Lol.

No really. There are no heart eyes even during the sex scene. Honestly, idk what that face was. Not in love for sure.

Another side note- Arya and Sansa have talks while standing in the same place where the forehead kiss scene happened (wtf do you call that place again, the bridge.??) But no heart eyes. No lingering looks. There is no incestuous gay love between them, I can say for sure. All it does is prop up the odd incestuous vibes of the Jon Sansa scene in that same place.

ANOTHER side note- goddamn but does Sansa talk about Jon a lot.

Edit: I'm sure most of this stuff has already been discussed in other metas. My purpose here is only to put down my first thoughts after watching the season.

[quillsandtypos]

Ski Trip

Summary: when the reader agrees to go on the annual ski trip up to the mountains with her boyfriend, Luke, and her friends she expected to go looking at mountains. But what she ends up doing doesn't require much hiking

Pairings: alive!Luke Patterson x reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: THIS IS NSFW FOREPLAY SMUT PEOPLE

If any of you have ever had a conversation with me and you read this fic, no you didn't

...........................................

"What are you two doing tomorrow?" Julie asked you.

You rolled into your stomach and propped your head up in your hands. “I’m not sure, but I know what we're doing next weekend, unfortunately.”

That peaked Julie’s interest, you weren’t usually much of a complainer. “Why unfortunately?” she questioned.

“Because I'm going on the Ski trip with him,” you whined. You wanted to spend time with Luke, you just didn't wanna go on the trip.

“Oh my god, you get to go?” she excitedly asked.

“Not helping,” you commented.

Julie smirked. “Sorry not sorry, I’ve been trying to get you to go for the past two years. And the first year, I couldn’t even go,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, so why would I have gone if you and Flynn weren’t even gonna be there?” you asked. As if on cue, Flynn walked down the stairs.

“Heard you guys were talking about me, all good things I hope?” she spoke as she walked down the stairs.

“Always,” you said, somewhat sarcastically.

She motioned for you to scoot over so she could have some space on the couch.

“So, if we’re done talking about me, did I hear someone say something about the ski trip?” Flynn questioned.

Before you could open your mouth Julie was already telling Flynn about how you were coming on the trip.

“You are?” Flynn squealed.

You tried to not get excited from their joy, but it was impossible; they were contagious.

You shyly smiled. “Yes, I’m going.”

“Yayyy!” Flynn yelled. The girl was practically jumping up and down.

“Oh who are you sharing a room with?” Flynn asked.

“Luke and I are,” you answered.

The girls exchanged a look you knew all too well.

“Shut up!” You covered your face with a pillow.

“We didn’t say anything!” they protested in almost complete unison.

You could feel your cheeks burning up. “Yeah, but you thought it,” you argued.

“Well whether we thought it or said it, you’re sharing a room with your boyyyyyyyfriend,” Flynn sang.

“If you guys start sing teasing me, I will leave,” you threatened.

“Don’t you need us to pick out your outfits?” Julie remembered.

“Oh, shit, yeah.”

“So in other words you have no leverage?” Flynn realized.

“I’m your ride home,” you reminded her.

“Outfits it is, but do not think we will be forgetting about this!” Flynn cried as she walked up to your bedroom.

“Whatever Flynn!” you yelled back.

“She’s right you know,” Julie slyly commented.

You just huffed in response.

The two of them did a very good job at helping maximize your california wardrobe for the mountains. Granted you had to go buy a couple things in advance, but overall, you felt confident that you could bear the cold of the mountains.

“Alright, I think you’ll survive,” Flynn proclaimed.

You closed your suitcase, and surprisingly you didn’t even have to sit on it.

“Thank you guys, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, it was our pleasure, especially since you’re actually coming this year,” Julie said.

You dropped them both back off their houses and they were nice enough to spare you from embarrassing you in the car ride.

...........

You heard someone creeping up behind you as you grabbed your stuff to head to your second class, and as you felt arms wrap around your waist you knew it was Luke.

You turned to face him. “So I was thinking if we get one of the window rooms then we can see the snow when it falls,” he proposed.

Your face lit up. “Wait, it’s gonna snow when we’re up there?” you excitedly asked.

He happily watched your beaming face “I mean that’s what the weather said.”

“Oh my god! I haven’t seen snow since-” you paused, “actually I don’t remember, but it’s been awhile.”

“Well there’s a good chance that’s gonna happen,” he said.

“You know you’re actually required to show up to school for them to allow you to come right?” you teased. Though originally it had been a legitimate concern.

He licked his lips. “I’ve been coming everyday so I could come on this trip,” he defended himself.

“Coming to school and staying in school are two very different things Patterson,” you playfully reminded him.

He leaned in closer and his voice got quieter. “And what’s that?”

You resisted the urge to swallow and pulled away from him. “One is what I’m doing right now, because I need to go to class.”

He pulled his lips tightly before sighing. “You got me there,” he admitted.

“I always do,” you said, as you started walking off. You turned around to see him still standing there, you would be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy.

“Go to class Luke!” you yelled back at him.

“You got it!” he saluted you and walked the other way.

You playfully rolled your eyes. That boy would be the death of you, but you supposed there were worse ways to go.

That Friday you didn’t have any school since the school board figured it was pointless to send a bunch of kids to school the day before they went on a ski trip. There wasn’t going to be any actual learning anyway. You usually would’ve spent some of the day at Julie’s; which you did, but today it wasn’t in the studio for practice. You figured since she had helped you pack, you could at least keep her company as she packed.

“So who are you sharing a room with?” you asked her, as she sorted through her jeans.

“Me and Flynn just figured we’d share one,” Julie said offhandedly.

You chose to not comment on how she was obviously forcing herself to be casual.

“Ah I see, do you know if Alex and Reg are coming?”

“Yeah, and get this Alex and Willie are sharing a room,” she gossiped.

“I’m calling it right now, they're gonna start dating by the end of the weekend,” you hypothesized.

“I 100% agree.”

The two of you spent the next hour or so just discussing what sort of things you wanted to do while you were there over the weekend, and of course how much Flynn was running around her house frantically changing outfits. You actually were excited about going, not necessarily about the actual trip, and about dealing with certain classmates, but you were looking forward to being with Luke and hanging out with your friends.

For some reason when you woke up the next morning you were a little nervous, you supposed it was because you had never been skiing or snowboarding for that matter.

You got ready pretty minimally considering you were soon to be on a five hour bus ride. None of your family was up yet so when Luke pulled into your driveway you slipped out the door.

“You got everything?” Luke asked.

“Everything except my chill,” you responded with a smile.

“You’re gonna be alright, and you don’t have to do anything there you don’t wanna do, so if you don’t wanna risk a broken leg, then don’t.”

Despite your anxieties, you knew he was still right.

“Thanks Luke.”

“Anything for you.”

When the two of you got to the bus everyone else in your group had already gotten there. You, the rest of the band, Flynn, and Willie had made a plan for the bus.

“We have arrived,” you announced to your friends as you and Luke took your spots.

“And just in time too, people kept trying to take your seats,” Willie reported.

“Thanks for saving them,” Luke responded.

The two of you continued chatting with the rest of your friends until the bus driver instructed everyone to take their seats. The majority of everyone slept on the way up there but you were too anxious to get there to sleep. Instead you watched youtube as Luke napped on your shoulder.

“Luke, Luuuuuuuuuuuke, Luooooooooooooooke,” you spoke. You were trying to wake him up quietly but you were starting to realize that wasn’t going to work.

Luckily Reggie was awake. “Oh he’s a heavy sleeper, that’s not gonna work.”

Reggie basically got himself so he was dangling off both sides of his chair before yelling in his ear.

Luke awakened with a jolt, looking fairly startled.

You weren’t entirely sure whether you should laugh, throw Reggie under the bus, or maybe both.

“What happened?” Luke asked.

“I woke you up,” Reggie answered innocently.

“By yelling in my ear?” Luke groggily questioned.

Reggie quickly tried to backpedal himself out of this situation. “I mean I don’t think the method is relevant, the important thing is that you’re up.”

Luke wasn’t awake enough to deal with the situation at hand. He just chose to lay his head back on your shoulder.

By the time you had made it to the hotel you were ready to collapse. Luke laughed when you flung yourself onto one the beds.

“Should I be worried?” he asked, mostly as a joke.

“No,” you smiled and rubbed your face, “I’m just really tired.”

“You couldn’t sleep on the bus?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you groaned.

“You know what would help?” he asked.

“Do tell,” you inquired, from your face down position.

“This,” he said, before he jumped on the bed beside you. He curled his warm body around you and pulled you in.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” you responded. You attempted to melt further into him. You laid there in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.

“Luke we should probably go do things,” you suggested. You attempted to get up but he pulled you back down.

You stayed with him but you turned around so you were facing him. “Luke?”

“Yes, y/n?”

You bit your lip, you had to admit, it was pretty cute. “Are you going to let me get up?” you asked.

He looked into your eyes lovingly. “Well if you’re trying to leave then no.”

“So that would be a no.”

“Well if you look at it that way then yeah,” he admitted with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Luke come o-” the rest of your sentence didn’t quite make it out. Your smart boyfriend decided to use your weak spot on your back against you.

“You wanna go now?” he teased.

“Not necessarily,” you lazily responded.

You could feel your willpower fading as the light stokes up and down your back sent a calm wave of chills through your body. But you knew if you didn’t use your chance now there was a good chance you weren’t getting out of that bed today.

“Luke come on we gotta go,” you whined. It’s not like you weren’t enjoying yourself, you most definitely were, but your friends had to be wondering where the two of you were.

“Alright, alright, fine,” he gave in.

“Can I have a kiss though?” he sweetly pleaded.

You gladly agreed, but you realized his plan of not leaving the room hadn’t quite ended when the kiss started leading down to your jaw.

“Luke you’re not sly,” you laughed.

“Oh is that so?” he asked, as he moved down to your jawline.

You nodded your head.

“Then why aren’t you moving?” he purred.

Okay, so he maybe had a point.

“You can tell me to stop,” he reminded you. He looked into your eyes for any sign of you wanting him to stop and waited.

“Unless of course, you don’t want me to stop?” he asked, with the biggest smirk you had ever seen on his face.

“Not necessarily,” you said, completely avoiding his eye contact.

He crawled over top of you, “What was that princess?” he asked.

You forced yourself to look into those beautiful blue eyes, and that devilish smile. “No, I don’t want you to stop Luke.”

“That’s what I needed to hear.” He bent his head down at your jawline, this time starting on the side of your jaw bone. He sucked at the skin and you bit your cheek down on a moan. He moved down from your neck pressing harder and making it harder for you to control yourself.

“Luke,” you moaned.

“Yes?”

“No marks.”

He smirked. “It’s a little late for that one.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “You suck.”

“I don’t think you're exactly in the position to be saying those sort of things,” he warned.

You raised your eyebrows. As if he thought you would back down that easily. “Really?”

He licked his lips and shrugged.

“Make me,” you insisted.

“Bad choice of words,” he threatened. In a second his shirt was off and one of his arms held your’s down and above you.

This time he noticed when you swallowed. “Nervous?” he asked, his lips quirked up.

He might’ve been starting to get to you, but you weren’t going to admit to it. “You wish Patterson,” you tested.

His head dipped down towards your collarbone. He lightly sucked on it and gradually increased his intensity until your body unwillingly gave you away and you gutturally moaned.

He jutted his chin out, the fire in his eyes on stage was nothing in comparison to this. “What about now?”

“Yes, Luke,” you groaned out.

He somehow managed to pull your shirt off with you laying down, and managed to unhook your bra with minimal difficulties.

His mouth softly sucked on the very top of your nipple.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

As he continued sucking at a rapid rate you felt the knot in your stomach twisting further, just as you thought it was going to release Luke stopped.

“How much do you want it?” he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down.

You were not going to give him the satisfaction of begging.

You felt a finger glide across your clit ever so slightly and back and forth he kept going, ever so slowly.

A whimper escaped your lips.

“Beg for me, that’s all you have to do,” he promised. He was most definitely enjoying himself.

He moved back up to your nipples but instead he moved as slow as he could, he was trying to break you.

“Come on princess, you know you want it,” he taunted.

A sole finger swiped down your pussy and your breath hitched.

“Luke please,” you moaned.

“What please? I think it has something to do with fucking you silly,” he hinted. He once again crawled over top of you to be able to see your face. Like a predator stalking prey.

“Please rail the shit out of me Luke,” you whined.

“That was all you had to say princess.”

[dreamywriterinthedark]

Recess sobs and bedtime resolutions

Pairing: fem!Reader x Spencer

Request: Ok so the reader is a psychologist and is married to spencer and they have a 5 year old daughter who gets in trouble for punching a kid because they picked on her because they didn't beleive her dad was in the fbi If that makes sense any who if you don't write this i get it I just want to see speancers reaction

Trigger warnings: bullying, physical violence. (let me know if i forgot something)

Category: fluff, slight angst.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it. The daughter sounds a bit older than 5, in my head she’s in the early stages of elementary school. Let me know what you think about it! I’d be glad to receive some feedback. (Btw I hurt my own feelings writing this, you can’t even imagine...)

You were in your office, a typical Tuesday afternoon until you heard your office phone ring once more. You held up your finger to make your client pause what they were saying, you picked up the phone only to hang up.

“I apologise for the inconvenience. Now where were we ?” you said trying to get your client comfortable again despite the ringing. As she was about to speak up again, your cellphone rang, Spencer’s name lit up your screen and that’s when you were starting to get concerned.

“I’m so sorry I have to get that.” You said exiting the office to take the call. You were happy to hear your significant other’s voice nonetheless you knew he wouldn’t normally call you during working hours.

“Hi darling, is everything okay ?”

“No, not really. The school called, there’s an emergency.” he responded wrapping his scarf around his neck as he was making his way to the elevator.

“What happened ?” you asked getting more and more worried.

“She punched a classmate in the face. Can you believe it ?!” he pressed the button 0 waving goodbye to his coworkers.

“What ? Our daughter? Jane ? Are you sure it’s not her evil twin ?”

“Eviler twin you mean ? No offense, Y/n, but if she had one, I’m pretty sure you would remember…”

“Alright, I’ll tell my secretary to cancel all my appointments for the day. I’ll meet you there.”

“Love you, bye.”

“Love you too.” You answered before hanging up. You made it a little bit of a rule to yourself to never say ‘goodbye’ to him because you thought that if you did it may increase the chances of you never seeing him again. You knew it was a bit silly but with all those times he was close to death, you’d believe in any superstition if that meant he would get home safe.

After taking care of your client and letting your secretary handle the rest, you hurried out of your office to drive to your daughter’s elementary school.

You pushed the interphone button, once you were allowed entrance you walked to the principal’s office. You softly knocked, when the door opened it showed Spencer sitting in a chair right across the desk, next to it was an empty chair meant for you.

“I’m sorry, I came as I soon as I could.” you apologized.

“Well, I assume you’re Jane’s mother. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Principal Walker.” he greeted shaking your hand. As you sat down, Spencer gave you his best polite white smile.

“Do you know what you’re here for ?” he inquired.

“You said our daughter was involved in a conflict with a student...” you answered.

“Your daughter punched a student in the face.” He said bluntly.

“Right…”

“Are you sure it’s Jane ?” Spencer asked still struggling to believe it.

“Wait until you see her knuckles...”

Spencer put his face in his hands in defeat, you rubbed his shoulder to bring him comfort.

“What happened exactly ?” you asked.

“Well, it was during the 10AM break. Jane went out to play with her classmates when a boy started arguing with her. Next thing we hear is a scream, the boy is on the floor crying.”

You and Spencer both looked at each other with an immense look of stupor.

“The boy, did he bully her ?” Spencer asked trying to find some innocence in the sweet child of his.

“Not that we know of.” answered the principal.

“Is he okay though ?” you questioned.

“Yes, just a minor injury. He went back home.”

You nodded, “So what happens next ?”

“We are giving her a warning but the next time something like this happens there will be harsher consequences than a simple punishment. Understood ?”

“Yes. we understand. Thank you for your time, sir.” you said as you rose up from your chair. Spencer and you both exited the room finding your daughter in the waiting lounge looking guilty as ever. You saw Spencer’s face look puzzled and hostile. To torture your daughter with even more guilt you told her to ride back home with her dad which she did not love but couldn’t protest.

Spencer hardly spoke to Jane the entire drive. He was dry, so much it looked like he ignored her. Jane was desperate to get him to talk to her.

“Please, dad. Don’t be mad at me!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.” those words he pronounced cut like a knife. You knew that by seeing her dad’s reaction she would become aware of the gravity of her actions. And he actually wasn’t mad, at least not until he saw her pouting face. He loved her too much to be angry.

“Okay but can you just talk to me!” she whined.

“Oh we will, back home with your mom.”

That car ride lasted longer for Jane than usual. No music, no anecdotes nor laughs, just plain silence and introspection while gazing at the landscape.

Your house was in the suburbs near a forest, Spencer had all sorts of scientific arguments as to why living near nature was beneficial but you just loved the paysage before your eyes when taking your morning coffee. The location was perfect; in nature which means less pollution, noise and lower criminal rates yet a short car ride from the city which was full of cultural spots and with high quality education.

Jane tried to run up the stairs in hope to avoid her parents’ correction but was interrupted by your strict toned voice; “Not so fast, young lady.”

She shut her eyes stopping dead in her tracks, she lifted her stuffed animal and said to it “It was nice knowing you, fluffy.” She then turned around and sat on the couch.

Spencer was pacing around, “Why did you do it ?” He asked his daughter his voice slightly higher than before. She started melting in tears which truly pained him. You walked up to her, as you were sat on the couch next to her you started stroking her arm and drying her tears.

“It’s okay. We’re just trying to understand why you did that. There’s no way you would’ve done it without a reason.” you told her.

“Jeremy kept making fun of me…” she struggled to get out whimpering.

“How long has he been making fun of you ?” Spencer asked.

“Since Valentine’s day when everyone was exchanging cards but my box was empty.” You glanced at Spencer in shock of how long you hadn’t known your daughter was getting bullied, silently suffering.

“Honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through this.” you reassured her kissing her cheek and running your hands through her hair. “But what happened exactly that made you punch him ?”

“He made fun of dad, he wouldn’t believe he was in the FBI.” She answered tilting her head up. “I asked him to stop but he wouldn’t so I defended myself.” she affirmed seeming not so guilty anymore. You unwrapped your arms from her giving her a frown.

“That’s not how you deal with problems.” Spencer said sitting on the low table across the couch.

“Yeah, you could’ve talked to us first but you didn’t even try. You know you can tell us everything ?” You backed him up.

“I know but I thought I could deal with this problem on my own. You guys always seem so good at it. And I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

You glanced at Spencer both slightly smiling at each other.

“If there’s one thing I learned from my job at the FBI is that violence is never the answer. It’s only justifiable if it’s legitimate defence; when you life is in danger.”

“Dad, do you still love me ?” she asked watching her feet swinging on the edge of the couch.

“Of course, I love you. I always will, no matter what.” he responded taking hold of her hand. “Okay?” She nodded. She didn’t seem to understand that punching someone is wrong. You needed to have a talk with Spencer;

“Now go to your room and do your homework, we’ll talk punishment tomorrow morning.” You said.

“But-“ she protested.

“No buts, go to your room.” You ordered.

You joined Spencer on the couch, he looked completely defeated. “Hey, are you alright ?” You asked him while taking a seat next to him. “Yes.” He answered a bit too quickly. “I mean…No…Not really.” You knew exactly why he was feeling like this. “It’s not your fault, Spence.” you reassured him playing with his hair.

“This whole time…And I didn’t know she was struggling. What kind of father am I ?”

“I come home every night and I didn’t know about this. It’s not because of your job, it’s not because of us. I’m blaming the school, here. They’re the ones who are supposed to prevent bullying from happening.”

He rummaged his hair with his hands whilst his elbows rested on his knees.

“Plus it’s a good sign, she doesn’t get along with kids her age…” you said slightly smirking.

“How?!” Spencer asks slightly irritated due to his public middle school flashbacks.

“It’s a sign of high intellectual potential. Her emotional age is too advanced for kids her age to understand, they tend to be too insensitive for her. She believes animals and inanimate objects have emotions and that they are intelligent. She talks to her stuffed animal like it’s a pet. She took the pepperonis out of her pizza! Also she has an enormous amount of creativity and she’s highly sensitive to her surroundings. Have you seen how she profiled your every move and suddenly her emotions followed ? Just like you she’s protective of the ones she loves. She only punched that kid because he wasn’t exactly talking highly of you…”

“So you’re saying…”

“Our daughter could be a genius.”

“As mother as daughter.” he complimented with a smirk.

“Oh come on we know who’s the genius here!” you said slapping his shoulder playfully.

You both chuckled. You kept talking for at least half an hour to come up with a plan you both agreed to. It’s not good for a child to watch their parents disagree.

~slight time lapse~

An hour after dinner, you went up to your daughter’s bedroom as it was her bedtime. You leaned on the door frame admiring Spencer, sat next to Jane on her bed, reading a story to her about conflict to teach her what to do in the type of situations she got in. He learned that from you since you were a psychologist. He admired how resourceful and clever you were. He couldn’t be more proud to have you as his significant other and the mother of his child. Your foot made a cracking noise on the hard wood floor which caught Jane attention.

“Mommy! Come!” she exclaimed shaking her little hands.

“What’s up?” you ask sitting next to the bed.

“Me and dad were reading this book you got me and now i understand. I’m sorry for not coming to you first. I just didn’t like what they said about dad.”

“Honey, it doesn’t matter what people think of you. Seeking validation from people can be so unhealthy. If you keep bottling up your emotions you’re going to explode like a bomb and that’s no good.”

“Can you forgive me, mommy ?”

“Of course. You’re still growing, as long as you learn from your mistakes I’m confident you’re going to be alright.” You answered squeezing her hand. Spencer watched in awe, it reminded him how in love with you he is.

“Yes, please don’t ever do that again!” he said a bit too quickly with a high pitched voice that made you all burst in laughter.

“Alright, you should get some sleep.” you told her giving her a kiss on the cheek and tucking her in; “Good night, my love.”

Spencer kissed her temple and set aside the little book he was reading to her wishing her good night as well. You walked out switching the lights off. As you walked down the stairs you asked Spencer to stop in his tracks pointing your finger up; Jane was talking to her stuffed animal. You both had to muffle your laughs. The future looked bright.

[lilacprincessofrecovery]

A Stark Halloween Party // Tony Stark x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1788 Warning: Light insecurity

There's this one girl. She wasn't a girl. She was a woman. She was bigger than other women. She was different. She loved herself. That's what drew big time tech billionare Tony Stark to her. He liked that she was confident. She was sometimes sarcastic under her breath when she thought no one could hear her. Tony realized that she was very similar to him. Tony didn't treat her like he treated Pepper. Pepper had actually decided to go to a law firm instead of working with Tony.

He knew y/n would be slower than Pepper in heels. He would only order her to stand beside him and write his work notes while he was in his lab. She would make him laugh. That wasn't easy for him since the New York incident. He loved to see her every day at 10am. Being confident was a great thing to be around Tony Stark.

Another thing about him, Tony always loved parties. No disaster would get him down when it came to a celebration or charity. Halloween was a big shen-dig for him. He was a man who liked costumes, too. He made everyone's costumes better yet he had someone else make the costumes; not that he didn't have an idea of the costumes but he couldn't sew. He decided after the computer generated the costumes to go and switch them up himself and give everyone Tony Stark appointed costumes.

He had called everyone in the compound to the main conference room. Everyone was surprised that Tony called everyone since there was nothing on the news or on the tv monitors hanging around the place, lately. He explained that he wanted to throw a Halloween bash. He started giving everyone their costumes and that their outfits will be sent to them when they get made. It was 2 weeks until Halloween. He could do it. He even thought about making them dress up as each other but after he chuckled about that he decided to go with traditional costumes.

Tony named off announcing the costumes explaining he used a generator so they won't guess he chose legitimately to give him and y/n similar matching costumes. or get annoyed if they didn't like the costumes he picked.

Steve. Sailor.

Natasha. Angel.

Y/n. Princess.

Clint. Ghost Face.

Thor. Pro Wrestler.

Peter Parker. Vampire.

Sam. Police Officer.

Scott. Devil.

Rhodey. Storm Trooper.

Wanda. Jessica Rabbit. (Mostly because of the hair)

Vision. Michael Myers.

Bucky. Werewolf.

Happy. Superman.

Loki. Plague Doctor.

and himself. Prince Charming.

It was a bit harder than he thought to give them all costumes. They all practically live in costumes. He chose the most ironic costumes he could. He however made sure he and y/N were matching. He wouldn't tell he didn't generate the costumes. Only FRIDAY knows.

Once everyone got their costumes, they're of course was arguements of why they got the costume they got. Tony rolled his eyes. "Deal with it." He smiled at y/N and went and left to go to his office. He ordered a famous designer to create the costumes except the princess one. He wanted to design that one himself.

"I can't believe I'm even coming to this party," Loki complained.

"Your face will be covered, Brother," Thor responded.

Loki groaned.

"I am stronger than any wrestler," Thor thinks. "I do not trust technology."

Steve looked at Natasha. "I considered joining the marines. I preferred to be an army soldier though."

Natasha was in shock and crossed her arms. "I am no angel. I would rather be a ninja."

Steve chuckles, "Tony's not going to change his mind."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "I blame the computer more than him."

Wanda looked to Steve and Natasha, "My costume is the most sexist outfit..."

Vision looks at her with a soft smile, "I would love to see you in that costume."

Wanda then forgets all her worries about being so sexy and caresses his cheek, "You ok with your costume babe?"

Vision nods, "I will wear whatever is given. I haven't ever celebrated Halloween before."

Wanda smiles, "Ok."

Vision tilts his head, "Who is Michael Myers?"

Wanda calmly describes the psycho to him.

Vision thinks, "I see..." He said that a lot.

Scott looks to Clint, "I'm just glad to be a part of this team."

Clint nodded, "I was going to take my kids trick-or-treating this year..."

Scott laughed, "Well maybe it won't be on actual Halloween."

Clint nodded, "Hope so." He wasn't too fond of his costume. The devil? Really? He disapproved.

Natasha looked at Clint, "Really? you think you got it bad? I've never worn a dress before. A white one at that."

"Computers aren't against you," Happy interrupted Nat and Clint.

Happy liked the idea of being Superman. Finally, he is a superhero like everyone else around him.

Happy looked at Peter who was over excited for being invited to his first Avenger/Tony/"Adult" party. "Are you alright kid?"

Peter nods and flops down on the couch. "Oh yeah. I am excited! I also love that Tony is making our costumes. He always makes me great costumes. You think I can invite MJ? and/or Ned? Do you think Mr. Stark would mind?"

Happy shrugged, "I don't think he would mind."

Bucky was quiet standing in a corner not caring either which way. but trying to think of what a werewolf costume would look like.

Rhodey thought a storm trooper would be cool. Star Wars is a classic afterall.

Sam was neutral about his outfit. He didn't care one way or another about being a police officer. He was trying to imagine himself in it. He could be a police officer. He loved helping people and saving the day. He felt like a police officer anyway. Just with the metal wings.

y/N was being quiet. She was worried now that her costume wouldn't fit once Tony gives it to her. Talk about embarassing. She hurriedly rushed up to her room to avoid anyone else. She wasn't an insecure person since middle school. She was surprised her confidence was currently faltering.

"Looks like the computer thinks you and I should match," She bumps into Tony.

"Tony... I didn't see you... sorry," y/n told him.

"Are you alright?" Tony arched his brow.

"I was wondering if... maybe I could pick my own costume. I mean I'll still be a princess... I just..."

"What are you afraid of... you don't want to match with me?"

"Tony... I'm not feeling well. I am going to my room," She left.

"Hmm... hey... y/N, wait!" Tony didn't understand why she wasn't happy or glad they matched.

She looked in the mirror and immediately went to bed after sighing loudly. She needed to get her mind off of the party. She wasn't even happy that she was even invited to one of the biggest shen-digs of the year.

She was very quiet during her work the following days. Tony was concerned. He had FRIDAY keep an eye on her for him. She was just anxious and didn't try to keep up with him anymore. She wasn't even wearing heels anymore.

The costumes came in from the designer. Tony already had everyone's measurements so he had sent them out. He didn't have y/n's so he tried scientifically to decide the size of her costume. She would never tell him or let him near her with a measuring tape. She would rather disappear than have ANY of the Avenger's Family know her size, especially Tony. She had a crush on her boss. Who wouldn't? He was Tony Freaking Stark. Tall, dark, handsome, rich, smart, and a superhero.

Everyone is glad how their costumes turned out. They fit just right and were amazing. Tony definitely appreciated the styles and the designs worth every penny. Everyone was happy with their costumes.

The night of the party y/n didn't come to the party hall. He went to her room and knocked on the door. She was crying on the edge of her bed with the dress in her lap, makeup running down her cheeks. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I can't fit it."

"W... did you try it on?" She shrugs then sighs and shakes her head. "No..."

Tony just stared at her. "O....k. Come on I'll help you. If I have to wear poofy sleeves you have to wear the poofy dress."

She blushed nodding and stood up and he helped her dress into her costume, sucking in her stomach as much as she could so he doesn't see her 'girth'.

As a Prince and Princess, Tony and the reader smiling

"You look sexy in that costume," Tony smiled softly at her.

She blushed deep, "You're drunk and that's inappropriate Mr. Stark..."

"Call me Tony. Please... You've been here for 6 months... You're always with me. You know me better than anyone... You have pretty hair, y/n... and such soft, delicate figure... You are so beautiful. Now will you come downstairs and be with me at the party?"

She giggled, "We are at the party."

He smiled, "I made sure we matched."

"What...really?"

He nodded, "I wanted to be with you. I chose all the costumes. The generator was just me. Don't tell." He laughed. "You are my date on purpose."

y/N's eyes widened, "You wanted me to look like a giant marshmallow?"

Tony looked offended, "I wanted you to be mine."

"Wait... like me... and you?"

"Me and you..."

"What why? I'm not as hot as the other women you..."

"NEVER say you are less than anyone else. Where's the y/N I am used to that doesn't care what others think about how she looks? and Especially bimbos from my past. They don't matter. It's the past. This is the future." He takes her hand and puts a palm against her palm and smiles down at her.

" You know... you are such a catch. I'm attracted to you and all your beauty and snark. Yeah, I notice you. You have an old timey type of beauty like a princess... and I am your Prince. Well, I would call myself a King. You do everything for me. You know me better than anyone has ever..."

"He is so egotistical," Bucky said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "She is a Queen. My queen; not a princess."

Steve smiled soft. "She is sweet as can be. Princess was a perfect outfit for her. She better watch out for him. He will corrupt her." He laughs.

y/n grinned wide at Tony insecurities all gone and leans up and kisses him. "My Tony?"

"My y/N..." Tony kisses back passionately.

Everyone claps.

[imaginedisish]

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards (Tenet) Neil x Reader

A/N: Hey there guys!!! I’m back...again ahhhhh. I’ve been gone for a while (I always am) but hopefully I’ll be back for a while now :) I hope you’re all staying safe and doing well. I know the world is ass, but hopefully things will be better soon. Anyway, I’m obsessed with Tenet right now and I decided that I had to write a Neil x Reader one shot (I love Robert Pattinson, it’s a problem) Also, I think this is my longest fic yet...if someone wants to let me know how to do the “keep reading” thing, please tell me omg. I’m so sorry to those who have to scroll through this. Hopefully I can change that. Anyway folks, ENJOY!!!

p.s pls request tenet stuff. gimme some smut to write.

Summary: You allow your feelings for Neil to get in the way, causing you to compromise the mission and put everyone in danger. (AU, obviously because of the reader insert, and also because this particular scene does not actually happen in the movie).  ~loosely based off “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala~

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, guns, blood, wounds, cursing, angst, possibly implications of being “lovers (or friends with benefits)” and luckily fluff :) 

Word Count: 4,163 (Please fucking teach me how to add the “read more” thing holy shit)

You storm down the cold, grey, skinny hallway lit with dimmed fluorescents. There was something inexplicably chilling about this place, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on exactly what that thing was. Maybe it was the way the lights reflected against the walls, glowing subtly against the tiles. It wasn’t a pretty glow. It was the glow one could expect to see along the walls of a morgue. 

Maybe it was the peculiar, dull ringing that followed you down the corridor, haunting your every step. Maybe it was the simple sound of your heels clicking against the concrete floors, and the idea that those clacks could call someone to your very location and leave you absolutely defenseless. Maybe it was the fact that you only had two bullets left in your glock. 

Or, it was because he wasn’t with you anymore. 

You quickly shake off the thought that he, of all people, could make you feel better. You didn’t need him. Hell, you didn’t need anyone, you thought to yourself. But still, your mind kept circling back to the image of him popping up in front of you, taking your hand and leading you away to- 

You cut yourself off. You couldn’t let your mind wonder for that long, especially about Neil. Still, you can’t help but flash back to just minutes ago, when Neil was by your side, when you made the massive mistake of letting your feelings get away of the mission. 

Neil pulled you down the hall, his hand firmly clasped around the upper part of your right arm. He was practically dragging you with him since you couldn’t keep up with his speed. 

Finally, Neil yanks you into an alcove, hoping you two can hide for at least a few minutes before running again. 

“Neil you need to give me an answer, what the fuck is-,” Suddenly, Neil pushes you against the wall, his right hand presses hard on your hip while his left hand covers your mouth. His face is in yours. Any personal space between you two is non-existent. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. He’s so close that you can feel wisps of his dirty blonde hair dance across your forehead. 

He smirks, “No time for answers.” You felt a twinge in your stomach, like butterflies, or maybe something much more gross, because now was not the time for Neil to make you feel this sort of way. 

The worst part is that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He carefully selects each and every movement he makes. He removes his hand from your mouth and places it at the nape of your neck instead, his thumb brushing lightly just below your hairline. 

You stifle a quiet moan at his touch. “N-Neil, what are you doing?” Your voice is quiet, but shaky. 

“Keeping you calm, I can tell you’re about to lose it,” He says matter-of-factly. Of course that’s the only reason, there’s nothing romantic here, and there never will be. 

‘Neil will never feel the way I feel about him’ you think to yourself. You can’t help but get a bit angry at his ability to put you under his spell. Despite your heart racing, despite your brain being bent out of shape by the close proximity of Neil, you can’t help but feel calmer. And you hated that. You were too stubborn for your own good. 

He breaks the silence, “Are you alright? I figured you’d have something to say. You said you wanted to talk to me before, didn’t you?” 

Before…when you had planned on telling him how you felt. You were going to tell him before.  Before the mission escalated past the point of return. Before you had ruined everything. Before Neil risked his life to bring you to safety. You had fucked up this time, insurmountably. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but you didn’t make it much better. 

Neil blew the entire team’s cover all to save you. You forgot the script, all because you were far too concerned with how you were going to handle your feelings for Neil. It wasn’t just any mission, either. It had to do with Sator’s henchmen. This was Tenet’s way in. This was how you could get more information. This was how you could save the world. 

And yet, you brought it all down. Somehow, Sator’s men believed that you were the only spy, and that everyone else was legitimate. They were going to kill you and spare the others, but Neil practically threw you out of the room and down the hall before anything could happen. The second he grabbed you, gun shots erupted. Now you had to pay for it, hiding in a barely-lit, cold hallway, with Sator creeping somewhere close behind, ready to attack. 

Suddenly, the guilt began to overwhelm you. What if this was it, what if you would be the reason Neil would die? What if your actions destroy the mission all together? Tears free themselves from your eyes, sliding slowly down your cheeks. 

“Hey,” Neil whispers as he moves the hand that rested on your neck up to your left cheek. He wipes away a few tears with his thumb. “It’s alright. We’re going to be fine, don’t worry-,”

Before he can get another word out, you grab his hand. “Stop, please, just stop,” You plead, unable to take anymore. He has to know what he’s doing to you, he just has to, you think, as your sadness slowly turns to anger. It irritated you that he was able to swoop in and save your day. It irritated you that he was able to touch you and comfort you, despite the lack of relationship that you desperately wanted fulfilled more than anything. None of this was fair. It wasn’t fair that he could be this non-nonchalant while you were practically doubled over with butterflies and other real anxieties from the situation you were currently in. 

Neil looks a bit more annoyed now. “I’m just trying to help,” He says, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Those eyes, you could drown in them if you weren’t careful, so you snap back into reality, allowing yourself to feed into your anger. 

“Maybe I don’t need your help,” You say, instantly regretting the words as they leave your lips. 

The corners of Neil’s mouth turn up slightly, his cocky attitude showing yet again. “So back there, earlier,” He gestures backwards, to the past, “You didn’t need my help?” 

You shake your head, “I’m just sick of this.”

Neil’s smile fades away as a confused look finds itself on his face. “Of what?” There’s a sadness in his voice. “Us?” 

His use of“Us” immediately takes you back. ‘What the fuck does he mean by “Us”?’ You ask yourself. You were undeniably close, but he never confirmed or denied his feelings for you.

Your stomach does a back flip before you allow yourself to grow angry again. 

“There is no ‘Us’, and that’s the problem Neil,” You say, pushing him off of you. He stumbles out of the alcove and rushes back in, closing the space between you and him once again. 

Neil gives you a puzzled look.“Bloody hell,” you hear him mumble under his breath. “What the fuck are you talking?” There’s a seriousness in his voice now. His cocky facade disappears into nothingness. He’s frustrated, and it’s all because of you. 

You just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to say it. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel.” Your voice is louder now, and it seems as though you’re practically begging to give away your hiding spot. “Neil I-,”

He covers your mouth with his left hand once again. “Alright that’s it,” His voice is still quiet, “You’re the one that needs to stop now. You don’t know how much I-,” 

You push him into the wall before he can get a word out, just as he had interrupted you seconds ago. 

You step out into the hallway. “I don’t know what? How much you don’t care about me?” You notice the sudden pain in Neil’s face. You didn’t expect that, but you also refuse to believe it’s real. “I don’t need you, Neil. I never have and I never will.” 

You begin walking down the hallway as Neil whisper shouts your name, trying to get you to come back without blowing your cover. 

“(Y/N)! Please!” He calls out. 

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and stops you dead in your tracks, “(Y/L/N), I’ve been waiting to meet you.” It’s a familiar voice, a voice you’ve heard before. It’s bitter, callous and malignant. A chill runs up your spine as the name of the voice dawns on you. You flinch, quickly stepping backwards and spinning around to look at the devil-man in front of you. Although, you know he would prefer if you referred to him as a god. 

“Sator,” You curse, spitting on the ground disrespectfully. You brandish your gun, trying to put on your best fake-confident face. Sator doesn’t know you only have two bullets left, and quite frankly he doesn’t need to, you think to yourself. 

Before you can even aim, Sator launches towards you. 

You jump back, and turn around to run. There’s no way you could get away from him in what you were wearing. Your black kitten heals slowed you down a great deal. Your tight, black dress made it hard for you to move in any way at all. 

Sator is right behind you. You kick off your heels, allowing you to speed up a bit. While running barefoot is much better, you know you can’t last forever. You run for a few more seconds before realizing that Sator is only getting closer. 

You turn around, back peddling now. You hold your glock up and aim. 

BANG! 

The bullet misses Sator and ricochets off the tiled wall. What the fuck? You think to yourself as the bullet falls to the ground. The walls must be bullet proof or something. 

Sator is almost within an arm’s reach of you. You lift your gun again and take aim. 

BANG!

But it’s no use. you miss again. This time, the bullet hits such an angle that it comes back straight towards you. It grazes against your left side. 

“FUCK!” You cry out in pain, stumbling a bit. You try your best to continue running, but the pain is far too great to keep going. You feel your legs starting to give out. You crumble to the ground, letting a small whimper of pain escape your lips. You grab your side, blood draining into your hands and onto the floor. 

Sator chuckles maliciously. “You seriously thought you could get away? This is my place. You’re playing in my world,” He shakes his head and reaches for his gun. He points the weapon directly at your head,

“And just so you know, I’m God here.” 

Tears form in your eyes as you hear the gun cock. You brace yourself for impact as your thoughts find their way back to Neil. You hate how you left things, especially considering that would be the last conversation he ever had with you. Guilt began to grow heavy in your stomach. 

What a way to die, totally and completely guilty, a failure, and alone, You think to yourself, as tears fall down your cheeks.

Sator chuckles again. “Crying are we know? Too late for tears, (Y/N). I think you’re all out of time.” You shudder at his words and you prepare for this moment to be your last, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“No! (Y/N)!” A familiar voice cries out from behind you. 

BANG!

You open your eyes to see Sator standing in his place, the gun now pointing above your head. You look down and see a single bullet right next to you. It must have ricochetted off the wall, just like yours did. But where did it come from? You think. 

Turning around slowly, you spot who Sator is pointing his gun towards.

“N-Neil,” You stutter, wincing in pain simply from talking. His gun points back at Sator. His eyes nervously look you up and down. This was far different from when the evening started. You remembered the way Neil looked at you when you had finished getting ready. You remember how he knocked on the door to your hotel room and let himself in. He didn’t wait for you to give him the okay. 

“Wow,” Neil said, taken back by your tight, little black dress. He looked you up and down, seemingly removing each article of clothing in his head. “You look incredible.” 

You missed that moment now. You wish you could just go back. But now you were faced with reality, with a gun in your face. 

Sator looks down at you, and back up to Neil. “I think I’ll let you watch her die, and only after you watch her take her last breath, I’ll kill you too. How’s that?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Neil states confidently. You look up at him, confused. 

Just as Sator pulls the trigger, Neil grabs your arm and slides you out of the way. 

In the near distance, just a short ways behind Sator, you see a fiery cloud of orange erupt, followed by a massive boom. Neil somehow was able to orchestrate some sort of explosion.

Sator stops in his tracks and turns to look behind him, giving Neil just enough time to pick you up and run down the hallway, turning down a series of other corridors in an attempt to outrun Sator. 

It isn’t long before Neil realizes that you’re bleeding onto him. “H-holy shit,” He looks down to your left side. “I need to get you out of here.” 

You ignore what he’s saying. “Why did you come back for me?” You whisper to Neil. 

He steals a quick look at you as he continues to run down the hallway, but he doesn’t answer your question. 

You clear your throat and try again. “Why did you come back?” 

He ignores you again as you approach an intersection of 3 hallways, each one looking the exact same as the one you’re currently in. Neil pauses for a second, contemplating his options. His heart is beating out of his chest. You’ve never seen him this nervous. While you had only been at Tenet for about half a year now, you had grown to know Neil far too well. The stolen moments you shared, the kisses you swore to tell no one about. You didn’t know what you were with Neil. You didn’t know if this was superficial or real to him. But, you knew his emotions like you knew the back of your hand. You could tell he was panicking. You had never seen him quite like this. Something was different. Suddenly, Neil grunts and choses to go down the hallway to your right. 

You wanted to say something to him, to talk to him, but you felt yourself falling in and out of consciousness. You knew you needed to stay awake. Neil looked down to check on you and immediately noticed your condition. 

“Stay with me, okay?” He begged. You had never heard Neil talk like this before. “Please stay with me. I’m right here, it’s going to be okay.” He started to pick up his pace, practically sprinting down the hallway now. 

“N-Neil?” You managed to call out to him. 

“Yes, darling?” He responded between gasps for air. You could tell that he was getting tired. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking around his body for any signs of blood or even for a possible gun shot wound. 

Neil starts to slow down a bit. He looks down at you again, “I’m alright. It’s you I’m worried about.” 

“You’re not actually worried, are you?” You ask. 

Neil stops for a second, completely out of breath. He takes this as an opportunity to look at your injuries again. He puts his hand over your wound and feels all the blood that’s there. He shakes his head, clearly nervous about how much blood you’ve lost. He readjusts his hold on you, making sure you’re secured in his arms.

He brings his face closer to yours. “Fuck, of course I’m worried about you,” He says in a stern tone. He seems annoyed at the thought that you didn’t know he cared about you. “What the fuck would make you think otherwise?” He isn’t just annoyed now, he’s angry, yet he doesn’t take his face away from yours. You can feel his breath on your nose, just like you did before. The wisps of his hair greet your forehead again too. 

“I-I guess I just don’t know how to read you,” You say, taking a deep breath once you finish your sentence. Neil quickly picked up on your labored breathing and began to jog again. 

There’s silence for just a few seconds before Neil finds the right words to say. “I came back for you because I care about you. The second you left I chased after you. You were just far too quick for me.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest. You didn’t know how much he cared for you. You figured he only saw you as a member of the team, a coworker, a girl to flirt with, someone he had to care for out of convenience and association. The way he was speaking now lead you to believe that he cared for you far beyond that. You stare up into his blue eyes, gathering the courage to finally confess how you feel to him. You felt yourself slipping more quickly out of consciousness, and you desperately wanted him to know how you felt. 

“Neil, I just want you to know that-,”

Your words are interrupted by the loud swinging of a door. Suddenly, you’re outside the now flaming building and in the bitter, dark night. The wind whips and nips at your bare skin. You take a quick look around and remember that you’re in Amsterdam. At least it’s a pretty place to die, You think to yourself. You shiver as the wind attacks you again. 

Neil notices how cold you are. He sets you down on a nearby bench and takes his brown suit jacket off, draping it over you. He picks you up and starts jogging again. 

Just a short ways up the street is the BMW he had been driving for the mission. He opens the car door with one hand, making sure to keep you nestled into his chest with the other. He puts you down on the passenger’s seat, buckles you in, and carefully shuts the door. 

When he gets in on the other side, he sees you drifting off again. “Come on, (Y/N), stay with me, please,” He pleads. He leans over to you and gently kisses your forehead. Your eyelids throw themselves open as Neil’s lips leave your skin. He starts the car engine and begins to drive away. He doesn’t say a thing, but you can’t stop thinking about what just happened. 

“What was that?” You ask, wondering if he simply did that to distract you, to wake you up. He had to know what effect he had on you. 

Neil doesn’t say a thing. He only speeds up, blasting through red lights and ignoring stop signs. You look over at him. He looks like an absolute mad man. His dirty blonde hair is a mess. Dark, purple bags rest under his blue eyes. 

At one point, Neil turns the on the radio and glances at you. “Try to listen to some music, maybe it can keep you awake.” Or maybe his concern for your well being could be enough motivation for you. 

It feels like I only go backwards baby,

Every part of me says, “Go ahead”

I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again,

Feels like we only go backwards, darling. 

Neil somehow gets even faster. You notice that he’s pushing the gas pedal all the way into the floor of the car. You manage to get out one final sentence before losing consciousness, “If I don’t die from this wound, I might die from your driving.”

Then, your eyes shut and the whole world goes black. 

——

Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut, but you force them to open. There’s an arm pulling you in tightly to a firm, warm chest. You inhale deeply, instantly recognizing the scent. 

It was Neil. His face was right in front of yours. He looked so calm, so relaxed. Either this was Heaven, or he somehow managed to save your life from his hotel room. You were hoping it was the latter. You wanted this to be real life.

Neil began to stir about a bit, but his arm never left your back. In fact, the more he stirs, the closer you seem to get to him. You decide to take it all in, because you know reality is going to come crashing down eventually. You know Neil is going to back off of you, apologize, and quickly say that he was merely watching over you to make sure you weren’t dying and didn’t mean to fall asleep. There was no way that he meant to hold you like that. 

“Good morning,” Neil said casually, not taking his arm off of you. He manages to pull you even closer still. Now your noses are touching. A playful smile stretches across Neil’s lips. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’re shocked, too shocked to say a thing. 

Your silence makes Neil concerned, “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Are you in pain?”

You smile at him, “No, everything is okay. Of course I’m in pain, but this feels good.” Neil’s smile reappears. But, you’re still confused. “I just need to know something Neil,” You say, as the smile disappears from Neil’s face yet again. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks as he draws letters on your back, or at least that’s what it feels as though he’s doing.  

You shake your head slightly. “Nothing is the matter,” You pause, recalling the events of the previous night. “It’s just, am I okay? How much blood did I loose? And Neil I need to know how you feel about-,” 

Neil abruptly cuts your rambling off, “You’re alright. I took care of you after you passed out. I cleaned out the wound and sowed you up. It was easier to do with you asleep, to be honest. I don’t think you would’ve like it very much,” Neil grins before continuing, “Luckily your heart rate stayed completely stable the whole time.” 

You nod your head, waiting for him to address the half asked question towards the end of your rambling that he seemed to get the understanding of. But, there’s no response. 

You decide it’s time to say something. It can’t wait any longer. “Neil, I need to know what all this means. I need to know how you feel about me.” 

“Likewise,” He returns, but there’s no grin upon his face. He’s serious, if not somber. 

Regardless, you’re annoyed. “Likewise?” You repeat back to him. “I’ve liked you since the second I saw you, and I feel as though I’ve made that abundantly clear. I’ve given you all the signs, all the hints, and you just continue to play these stupid ga-,”

Neil cuts you off, “I had to sit there and watch you almost die. I worked on your wound all night. I’ve been fucking terrified for the past 12 hours wondering whether or not you would make it. I ditched the team to make sure you were safe, and I don’t regret that choice one bit. These aren’t games (Y/N). Being in love with someone isn’t a fucking game.” 

Silence fills the room. Being in love with someone…those words repeated over and over again in your head. You couldn’t let them go. 

Neil catches gaze and holds it. He’s waiting for something from you, but you don’t know how to communicate how you feel anymore. It was like he broke you. 

You know Neil can’t take the tension anymore, and before you can say a word, Neil’s lips hungrily crash into yours. He grabs your waist carefully, keeping you pulled in tight without hurting your wound. 

Neil’s lips leave yours. “Are you happy now?” He asks, brushing where he just was with his thumb. 

“Y-yes,” You say, wanting more. 

“Then it’s settled,” Neil states confidently. He smiles slyly, as he always does.

You’re confused beyond belief. “What is?”

“That you’re mine,” Neil says, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb. He brings your face closer to his, and kisses you again.