#I hope someone sends them a signal that I’ve blocked them just so that they know I’m pissed (they don’t know me and do not gaf)

[valewritessss]

Best believe that if the site has a block button, I will find it

[bahllinsqrews]

It’s me, 🪽anon 👋 I wanted to tag @inkysocker in this too so I hope they see this. (If not I’ll send it to them too.)

I agree with you and @inkysocker’s posts on the Ni-ki situation exactly. People have the right to disagree with writing smut about Ni-ki-that’s their opinion and they 100% have the right to feel that way-but if they don’t like it, they should block it and move on. Jungwon is only a year older than Ni-ki and people have been writing smut about him for a long time, and no one bats an eye. Why is there such a double standard? People argue saying “Ni-ki just turned 18”. So, I’m curious to ask them-what exactly is the right time to start writing it by -your- standard? If people wait 3/4/5 months, it would be fine? I don’t get it. And why do people have to abide by -your- standard? It comes off as one of the biggest instances of virtue signaling I’ve ever seen

Look, I watched i-land too. Ni-ki quickly became my favorite because of his talent, sense of humor, humility and kindness-believe me, I’m protective of him too. I get it if some people can’t see him as an adult now because they’re having a hard time separating who he is now from who he was then. But the reality is, he’s growing up and he’s not a little kid anymore. Of course he’s still young and still has his innocent side but he’s certainly not as innocent as some people think he is-because they don’t think about him as a real person, they only see the perfect image that he chooses to show us. And I can understand why. I know kpop companies warp and mold idols’ images into what they want them to be seen as and it’s easy to forget that, once you become a fan and you’re deep in it. I feel like I get lost in it too sometimes. I’ll be honest, I lost my virginity at 17 and was thinking about sex long before that. If people think Ni-ki doesn’t have sexual thoughts like a normal 18 year old, they seriously need to be realistic. In addition, if people think he isn’t trying to shed his “cute”/“baby” image, they really need to get a grip too. Of course he’s still the youngest member-but this year (and esp lately) if you just look at the pictures he himself chooses to post and the tik-toks/dances he himself chooses to do you can tell he’s trying to be more serious and mature.

I have been so absolutely disgusted with the hate and vitriol I’ve seen towards people who have written anything nsfw for Ni-ki or who have talked about doing it. They literally have people telling them to k��ll themselves, s1it, jump etc. it’s so, so sickening, not to mention triggering. It’s not funny/edgy and cute to tell someone to harm themselves or k¡ll themselves when someone posts something you don’t like-and people just say it like it means nothing. If you can’t properly articulate your stance and express your feelings about something without telling someone to k¡ll themselves, it makes you seem ignorant, immature, and honestly too lazy and vacuous to do so. It certainly does not make you seem like the better person. I know the people saying these things are young and callow but it is so hard to see. They don’t understand the weight their words hold. They have no idea what others are going through and how the recipients of their hate will react to being told to k¡ll/harm themselves. I think about how they would feel if someone actually killed themselves because of the hate they gave them and I would hope that they would actually feel sorry and ashamed but it seems like they’re so far in their narcissistic bubble with their moral grandstanding and so grossly desensitized to saying it in normal conversation that they’d be like “whatever” or “good, they deserved it”. These people are seriously not as edgy and cool as they think they are. They’re immature, twisted, and toxic. Seriously, they give me sociopath vibes. They really think they *hold the torch of wisdom and morals* meanwhile they’re telling someone to s1it their wrists and k¡ll themselves. Make it make sense. In reality, they seem like worse people than the ones they send hate too. And they’re also calling people fat and ugly and fatherless (😀?) when all else fails lmao. What is this, the 4th grade? I’d laugh if I wasn’t so disgusted. Like pls….you’re not funny 💀 Definitely exposes their elementary school/middle school selves, you can really tell how young they are when they respond in that way. Like if you don’t like it, block it. Yet instead they choose to go out of their way to send kys messages…. I can’t fathom how telling someone to k¡ll themselves makes you a better person than them.

It just makes me sick and sad honestly. I’m glad you’re strong because ik you’re probably getting a lot of hate for what you’re doing, but you always respond to it in a mature way, when you do choose to respond to it. Yeah, always feel free to delete as many hate messages as you want, don’t even give them attention. I hope it doesn’t get to you too much and I hope you’re doing well and continue to do well. Just know you’re definitely not alone and have a lot of people who feel the same way. 🩷 And I already talked about the people who send hate to you and others and the kind of people they really are.

(Sorry it was so long-I have a lot of thoughts about this)

This exactly sums up what everyone needs to hear. And a lot of people would agree without hesitation, I have screen shots of people insulting me in my Dms and comment sections and this just embodies what I am trying to get across. STAY IN YOUR CORNER OF TUMBLR!!

[phantomram-b00]

Okay so I’m joining solitary of the strike curtesy to Bisan from 21st to 28th for Palestine as they are actively in need of our help, i advice all to do the same. But I see an alerting thing that I need to address rn. To spread awareness and to make sure my mutuals/followers don’t fall victim into this.

So there even donation scams going around this app, such as:

I’ve saw two more of these, one of me was posing as a Palestinian Mother with two kids whilst the other claimed to need money for their lungs. Now I wish I had these screenshots to prove my claims but at the time I wasn’t sure if I was going crazy or was the only one having this gut feeling. But today, I realize this has been an alarming thing. This just happen to me, and I’m finding out, this is how they’ll get you:

Typically, they’re use your AMA to ask for donation, whether it on their animal, children, etc that require their donation usually by PayPal. Another is that, they’ll randomly follow you and immediately use the AMA to try to get you to either donate to them or signal boost their donation. Usually their story will be a copy paste as it more than just one. This situation is truly worse than p*rnbots. And frankly it absolutely disgusting.

If you want more proof other than the proof I just showed above, go search on Donation Scam and you’ll see many of these scammers. Here are one I can provide as there more than one incident where this happen:

Now to try to prevent this from happening I will link also a blog that goes in depth on how to prevent something like this from happen to you ghost pals or your mutuals or followers so they don’t fall victim into this:

What can I tell you, my mutuals and followers is that, please report them and block them is this does happen to you.

“But what if they’re being truthful”

I wish I can tell you, but the sad truth, it can be tricky because it the internet, as much as it a place to connect, it can also be a place to deceive you. So the best advice as I can tell you is be on your P’s and Q’s. Because years ago I was scammed and hacked for trusting a source I thought was factual. So I don’t want that to happen to you Ghostly Pals. And for my mutuals/friends, please be careful. 🩶 but I do have an advice, save their photo and run it by a photo finder I personally use TinEye and see if the image have been posted anyway, but if you have another you prefer even better:

Originally I was gonna make a post about boundary regarding the AMA but now that I see this have been a new scam running rampant on tumblr, I can’t keep my mouth shut about this and I need to let this be known. But I will still say, please only use my AMA for asking questions or telling me things whether it’s Good omens related or whatever. Please don’t use it to ask for donations like what these scammers are doing. I hope this doesn’t make me sound like an asshole but I just want to be safe. Until then please spread this around, make this known. Please.

I will like to thank the people whom I’ve linked as if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have known that this was an ongoing problem so I advice you look at the links and listen to them as your speading awareness.

[redheadloverr]

Asking them to be flings!

continuation to this post!

gn!reader x ayato, childe (texting version for the busy men <3) !

quick A/N for my followers! i’ve had the worst writers block for months but im hoping i can continue & finish this mini series soon!

ayato

ayato was taken aback by what you had said. his first words were “Pardon?” which made you spiral. though the two of you were flirtatious, you never knew if it was just friendly banter or anything serious. ayato was and always has been flirty towards you which often led you to have mixed signals and you were tired of it! maybe the way you went about it wasn’t the best idea but it was an idea!

you quickly say it was a joke, and that you just wanted to see his reaction after getting a little embarrassed over him not seeming to have reciprocated your feelings. he simply responds with a little “:(“ before you quickly throw your phone at a wall and start quietly screaming over what he meant. you pick your phone back up to see another message from him.

“I didn’t expect you to say such a thing, y/n. if you wanted to ‘see my reaction’ then i would’ve gladly expected your invitation. now will you reconsider it being a ‘joke’?” you threw your phone and once again screamed harder into your pillow. was this really happening? you had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. yup. you surely weren’t after how hard you pinched yourself, you even left a little bruise. you gathered up all your courage to send a message back. a quick, straight to the point, response.

except you didn’t know how to entirely convey how you truly felt. you thought the easiest way to respond was to just spill your guts. so you gave it your all and told him everything. you told him how you could never tell if the flirtatious banter had real meaning behind it and how you wished he’d see you the way you see him. you send the text, not even looking to see if you made any grammatical errors, and throw your phone anxiously waiting for him to respond.

you hear the ‘ding!’ and rush to grab your phone. you read the text with anticipation. “So with that I’m guessing your little ‘joke’ wasn’t such a joke, right? For the record, I was in the same boat as you, y/n. Our flirtatious banter was all serious to me. If your little joke is still up for grabs however, i’d love to set up a dinner date before we consider such a possibility. :)” you blush a little as you respond back with a quick little “i’d love to go out to dinner, ayato.”

childe

when you originally send the text to childe, you thought he’d take it as a joke. a part of you was waiting for him to just laugh at you and go back to your old conversation. so it was a shock to you when he sent a text saying “are you serious? this doesn’t sound like you, y/n?”

“lol, what do you mean? of course i’m serious..” you reply back trying to get his authentic response back.

“y/n are you drunk? what do you mean you want to be ‘flings’? do you even know what that is?” he responds frantically. “is someone there with you? are you being held captive? do you need me to come help you?”

“childe, i’m not being held captive. you don’t have to come rescue me. i was just curious about having a friends with benefits relationship. i wanted to ask you since i feel like we had good chemistry but if you don’t feel the same that’s completely fine, i’ll find someone else.” you thought you’d had possibly hit a subject that even childe thought was outrageous, something so unlike you it made him a little stunned.

“wait!” you see a message appear just as you set your phone down. “don’t look for someone else! if you want a friends with benefits please don’t looks for someone else.” you were a little stunned by childes new messages, you thought he was looking almost down at you for even suggesting such a thing and now he’s telling you not to look for someone to do just that? “what do you mean, childe?” you send a quick message back, ready for the worst.

“i’ll do it, if it’s purely physical what you’re looking for, please don’t look for it in someone else.” he came off almost jealous, which only made you more confused. as if you didn’t already stumble across so many plot twist, childe’s next message really sent you down a loophole.

“y/n, i don’t won’t you looking for anyone else. in fact, if we do become friends with benefits, i hope i can be the only one to see this side of you.” his words hit you like a brick, and although you didn’t know if he meant his words the way you took them, you decided this was as good of a chance as any to tell childe the real reason you asked him of all people.

you take a deep breath as you send a message to childe, short and straight to the point. “listen, childe. i actually asked you to be friends with benefits because i’ve actually liked you for a really long time now.” you send it and anxiously wait for childe’s response.

you hear a buzz as you check your phone. sure enough, it was childe. “i didn’t know you felt that way, y/n. i’m honored, maybe we should talk about this more in person however. i’d hate to start a relationship over text. :)”

bonus : you and childe agree to meet, childe offers to take you out to dinner and go for a walk on the beach afterwards. while on a walk at beach, you feel childe stop behind you, you turn to look at him in the dimly night sky as his eyes gaze upon you. “y/n, now that we’re here in person i’d like to formally ask you this.” childe takes out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back, “will you be my partner, y/n?”

bonus A/N; sorry for the bonus only on childe’s part but i’ve had the biggest brainrot for him and just had to make his a little more extra, i hope you’ve enjoyed <3 (also sorry for not doing xingqiu, i felt weird even trying to make him one of these)

[delilah-briarwood]

Greetings! Hi there! Pardon me for being this direct. But my little kitty needs your help, i know times are tough but please if you have some time to spare, kindly boost/share the post I pinned for her. It would be so meaningful to me as I’m hoping it would reach more people.. please 💔🙏 praying you’d consider, and pls kindly send me a msg for a response or answer the ask privately so I could atleast thank you for doing us a favor! Wishing you good health and peace! 🫶🏽

An abundance of things about this seem off to me.

A) The fact that, despite trying to signal boost your cat needing help, you wanted this ask answer privately.

B) Claim to be a user that’s used the site long enough to have an ongoing queue, first post was earlier today and have only interacted with blogs you’ve sent this ask to.

C) Almost identical message to every other pet scam ask I’ve received.

D) Reverse image search your cat photos comes up with them from elsewhere from 2020. So uhhhhh

This has got scam vibes, my guy!

I’m sorry if you have a sick cat and genuinely do need help. But a blog that has only existed for four hours, claims to post an ‘ungodly amount’ every day, only interacts with blogs that have received this ask/reblogged the donation post, has an almost identical message to every other scam post, and uses cat photos from someone else’s blog in 2020 is uhhhhh Sus As Fuck

EDIT: Not the instant unfollow and block just after sending the ask 💀

[sibswin]

I will chime in here-

As a cis guy, I don’t have a lot of horror stories on here. And I am NOT saying that to brag.

Now, I do have a couple -(skip to — for my larger point) in particular, a 30 year old guy who kept dodging the question of whether he was a twink or femboy (aka the type of guy i’m attracted to) and ended up very pushy, texting me again and again, and even when we talked and i told him i wasn’t interested because he was 30, and of course, he kept pushing in his next message until i think i blocked him. so sure, i have a couple here and there

——-

BUT, that is the exception, and not the rule.

From everything i’ve heard from NUMEROUS of female and NB friends in this space, they deal with a LOT more of this sorta thing than I do. A LOOOOT more. Like, an absurd amount.

Guys spamming, chasers, more creepy older guys, pushy ones…

And sure, i may be open to more people than you (OP), but almost everyone i meet is nice and caring. That does NOT seem to hold true for most of my female and NB peeps.

I might have a few bad stories. But only a few….

Listen, I won’t act like i’m the first person to discover sexism and misogyny. Especially since i’m a guy obv. but like

This ISNT a nsfw blog thing

This ISNT a normal thing

This ISNT an acceptable thing

And it ISNT okay.

It’s a shitty sexism thing.

And yknow what, there’s a nonzero chance that one of the guys like this will be reading this right now….instead of just telling you to unfollow me, lemme tell you how to hopefully be a better person while horny. this comes from someone who has messed around with more people here than you can count.

1. READ. THEIR. PINNED.

Seriously. Before you ever interact with someone, read their pinned. Please. Look at it, read it, and abide by it. If they say do not DM, DO NOT DM. if they have a specific boundary, ABIDE BY IT. Seriously. And actually, i’ll also send this one out to some of the ladies out there. While it’s not caused any major problems and i don’t really hold any ill will, and people quickly apologize when they mess up, there have been incidents in the past where someone accidentally violated one of my boundaries due to not reading my pinned. (in particular: the no romance boundary). So yeah, read people’s pinned.

2. IF IT IS A GREY AREA, ASK FOR CLARIFICATION!!

Even a simple “hey i hope you’re open to x,if not that’s cool” IS GREATLY APPRECIATED BY PEOPLE. If you don’t know, it’s okay to shoot your shot, but ASK FOR CLARIFICATION. Don’t just fully jump into it, seriously. And it’s okay, people won’t hate u if they clarify they don’t want to mess around with you: they’ll probably just go “aw sorry, but i hope you find success!” not everyone is into everyone, but that’s okay, just don’t be a dick who jumps fully into it without asking if they’re okay with it

3. EITHER WAY, DONT JUMP INTO CONSTANTLY SPAMMING THEM WITH MESSAGES AND FANTASIES

That’s how you end up crossing a line. That’s how you go from shooting your shot to trying to push yourself onto them.

I usually do a playful and flirty greeting + maaaybe a short fantasy. And then leave the ball in their court. Don’t overwhelm them with tons of stuff, because then you again; go from shooting your shot, to pushing yourself onto them. If you want to give long fantasies without knowing them prior, that’s what asks are for, if their pinned and such is okay with it.

DMs are different and more personal. Be respectful.

4. DONT DANCE AROUND QUESTIONS

Seriously. To give the example from earlier of my own story, dancing around whether youre the type of guy i’d be into at all is shitty. Because you know the answer might be no, but you’re trying to hide that fact. Don’t do it. Be honest and upfront with people. if they aren’t into you, they aren’t into you, there are a million fish in the sea. and in fact, you being untrustworthy just hurts ur chances, because it signals that you’re well, not someone i can trust, and who cares about my pleasure too. Speaking of,

5. LEARN TO BE OKAY WITH “NO”

Like, okay, lemme be straight here. Some people ARE going to say “no i don’t wanna” and that’s fully okay. You also can’t change that, and you’re a dick if you try to. Just take it in stride and move on. In fact, most people who say no to you will be genuine and nice about it!….if you’re actually KIND and don’t try to be pushy on them. They might even wish you luck on finding someone and generally wont hold any ill will against you.

Finding people on here is about finding people who are compatible with you - and not everyone is compatible! but just because you two aren’t compatible doesn’t mean they hate ya or don’t like ya as a person. They probably hope you do find someone who you’ll be compatible with!! You’re both just players of the same game, after all. That’s all there really is to it

Plus, well

6. RESPECT OTHERS, INCLUDING WOMEN AND NB PEOPLE, AS PEOPLE

This is also part of respecting “No”s but this goes in general.

No matter how degrading or kinky or whatever anyone on here is, they’re a real human person who has a whole life and personality and EVERYTHING. and like this goes for people in general but like

Women are human. just like. seriously yall

Respect them.

They deserve respect. Just like you and I.

this might sound blindingly obvious but considering the type of guy who might be reading this, i’m saying it

7. PEOPLE ARE NOT KINK MACHINES

Just, genuinely. NOBODY is a kink machine. Nobody is a dispenser for you. I’m a bit tired as i’m writing this section after the others but like. Don’t expect kink from them 24/7. Don’t expect kink unless they want to do it. In fact, maybe you shouldn’t “expect” anything from anyone at all, because it is not an obligation from any of us. If someone is taking a long time to respond to you, that’s okay! Hell they have the right to not respond to you, I REPEAT, THEY HAVE THE RIGHT TO NOT RESPOND TONYOU. But they also might respond to you, but there is no obligation for it to be in a timely manner!!!!! People have lives. People do things. People are not just horny dispensers for you. Please, learn to be okay with that.

And side note, no, idc how sex addicted you are, you probably wouldn’t be a kink dispenser either. Take it from another guy who felt like horny stuff was an addiction for him and still does tons of stuff- when i got on here and overall messed around, I realized that as much as i did things, i also wasn’t up for things 24/7, and didn’t want to do stuff with everyone all the time, and sometimes felt the pressure from that myself. I have met people equally as absurdly horny as me, but NONE of us are kink dispensers. And you probably wouldn’t be either, so don’t try to just act like there is someone out there who is, because u think ur constantly horny. idk if i communicated my point here well

8. Kink is kink. but kink is not real life.

There is a play space, and then there is real life. And sure, they might have some overlap, but…let’s put it like this, using an example from my perspective

A woman is being, in kink/play space, mean and degrading to me, and I like it, because that’s what i’m personally into.

And then suddenly, she says something that feels romantic. And I IMMEDIATELY start feeling very uncomfortable, because that is personally one of my boundaries.

If I then bring this up to her, and she doesn’t immediately step out of kink space for a second to apologize and acknowledge me and my uncomfortability, that is then a problem. Why?

Because kink hurt can feel good. Real hurt? Doesn’t.

Whatever hurt that form takes, even if unintentional.

Because in reality, it is all just a scene. There might be some real emotions mixed in, but it’s not real.

In reality, you should both be doing something that makes you both feel good. That is the goal!!!! Hell even if ur doing a kink as a “only for my pleasure” type thing, which i have discussed with someone before, the byproduct of it being only for one party’s pleasure SHOULD BE THAT THAT FACT FEELS GOOD FOR THE OTHER PERSON!!! And, while you should always have safewords, YOU SHOULD ESP HAVE SAFEWORDS IN CASES LIKE THAT!!! Even thw time i discussed doing this in particular as a kink I was also very clear that the other person would NEED to immediately tell me if it didn’t at all feel good, and I had to trust them to, since the point would’ve been that i wouldn’t care. (unless they told me it wasn’t feeling good)

And like,

YOU. SHOULD. TAKE. CARE. OF. YOUR. KINK. PARTNERS. AS. PEOPLE.

And now, now, take the example I used earlier; of someone stepping out of kink space to apologize for making me uncomfortable and to acknowledge me.

Now, flip the genders.

And put yourself in the shoes of the person who crossed a line, even accidentally.

Would you be willing to step out of kink space? Would you be willing to acknowledge them? Would you be willing to apologize? Genuinely?

Would you?

If the answer is no, you need to change that before you engage in kink.

Please. I’m begging you.

That’s what matters

9. JUST. BE KIND YALL

And this, really, is what it all comes down to. Be kind, to your kink partners, as people. Respect them. Don’t straight up push yourself onto them. Be willing to apologize, not just to step out of kink space and help them, but because you care about them, and are willing to acknowledge when you made a mistake. Don’t dance around their questions. Be willing to have gentle conversations if needed, be willing to ask “is this okay?” or say “no is valid.” remember to have a safe word and drop things immediately if it’s said! Be willing to listen to Nos.

And…take care of your kink partners, alright?

Please.

So yeah. Some of the treatment some blogs are getting on here isn’t okay, please be kind to people out there, and….yeah

people are always annoying u damn, i feel so bad for u girlie

ahhh it is what it is. every nsfw blog on here has a loootttaa horror stories I’m sure, some people just don’t prefer to share which is entirely understandable!

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 18

Chapter 1     Chapter 17

Mari waved up at Nightwing before turning toward the café.  He grinned and waved back.  No sense of embarrassment at getting caught like Red Robin had the day before.  She didn’t know enough about him to know if it was because he wasn’t hiding, Red Robin had given him a warning that she knew someone would be there, or because he had no sense of embarrassment, or most likely, a combination of all of those.

Adrien looked up and grinned too.  “What time did he take over?”

Marinette shrugged and cut through the café’s outdoor seating.  “Later than yesterday.  When did Dick leave?  It was some time after that.”

Adrien looked at him for a moment and shook his head. He looked back at Marinette before the memory of sleep deprived Marinette hit him.  He grimaced.  It was hit or miss whether she would be funny, emotional, or a danger to herself. If Batman was the same… “I really hope Batman doesn’t have a day job because with all the all-nighters he’s pulling, he would have to be a zombie at work.”

Marinette giggled at the idea.  “Can you imagine Batman with a day job?  What do you think he does?  Like, could you imagine him as a kindergarten teacher?”  Marinette’s giggles grew into full blown laughter. She finally was able to gasp out, “Batman complimenting some little kid’s rainbow and assuring them that making the entire rainbow the same color was extremely creative and beautiful.  Or trying to guess what animal they drew.”

Adrien laughed and patted her arm to get her to stop.  “Wait, wait. Batman crouching next to a toddler and explaining for the eighth time in the last three minutes that Pete the Cat is in fact a cat, not a dog before patting them on the head and walking away to scream into a nap mat.”

Marinette Laughed hard enough she almost missed the door handle.  She jumped when Adrien suddenly grabbed her arm.  She turned to him wide eyed but she immediately relaxed.  He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.  “No, no, no.  A PA to some… NO, to M. Wayne!  Batman as M. Wayne’s PA.  Oh my God, can you imagine?”

Marinette giggled and shook her head at him, pushing through the door.  Well, that would certainly explain why the bats seemed so close to the Waynes.  She spotted Duke and waved.  He jumped up and waved them over.  “Hey, Duke.  I hope you don’t mind that I brought Adrien.”

“Not at all,�� Duke gave them both a hug.  He looked toward the bathroom with a smile. “Good to see you again, man.  I hope you don’t mind that Cass and I both brought someones too.”  Cass and Stephanie were walking toward them with a red headed woman in a wheelchair. Duke leaned toward them and lowered his voice so the women approaching couldn’t hear him.  “Brought is a really liberal term for what happened.  I am so sorry.  I knew we shouldn’t have mentioned meeting with you in front of Stephanie.”

“Hey Cass,” Marinette called out.  She and Adrien waved at her.  “Good to see you again, Stephanie.”

Cass waved back and nodded with a wide smile. “Marinette!” Stephanie chirped. “I’d say what a coincidence we ran into you guys here…”

“But that would be a lie,” Barbara finished for her. “Hi,” she held out her hand for them, “I’m Barbara.”

Marinette smiled and stepped forward to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Well yeah we crashed,” Stephanie rolled her eyes and dropped into a seat across from Marinette.  She sent a playful glare toward Duke.  “You guys have been keeping her all to yourselves all week.  It’s our turn to hang out with her again.  Not to mention I wanted to catch up with the woman who fed the Riddler’s own balls to him for everyone to see.”

“And we wanted to see how you’re doing after it,” Barbara added with a chastising look to Stephanie.  She turned to side eye Duke.  “We tried to check with the boys but they were less than helpful.”

Marinette shrugged and leaned back slightly, not enough for anyone else in the café to notice but everyone else at the table picked up on it.  “I’m fine. It wasn’t bad.  More embarrassed he caught me in the first place.”

Stephanie waved her off.  “Please,” she scoffed.  “He had to knock out like an entire block just to get you.  That’s better than some of the bats.”

“Well, you look like you’re healing well,” Barbara nodded with a supportive smile.

Marinette smiled as naturally as she could and tried to control how much she was shifting in her seat.  She really, really hated talking about the whole thing with not only people who didn’t know she had been a superhero, but with the Waynes after that dinner, so that was two strikes against discussing this right now.

She’d been able to joke about it and moan about how contrived the whole setup with Alya and Nino.  They’d laughed all night about the audacity.  Not only had he thought he could stump her with a question about Chat Noir, he thought he would win against her in a game that relied on luck or rather bad luck not striking.  It was almost enough to make her forget the way the dinner had ended.  It was exactly what she had needed.  But she couldn’t do that here.

“Yeah,” she chuckled anxiously.  “My cheek seems to be doing well.  I’m hoping I can cover it with makeup by next week.”

“How’s your shoulder?” Duke asked motioning toward the shoulder she’d rammed into the doorframe when she was running away.

Marinette blinked at him a few times before she quirked her head to the side, her face scrunching in confusion.  “How did you know about that?”

She could see the rest of the table tense up, Adrien included but for the same reason as her, confusion on how he’d known. She had no idea why the rest were tensing up.  Duke chuckled awkwardly, sending looks over to the women at the table.  “He’s covering for me,” Barbara finally spoke up.

“Why is… what is he covering up for?” Marinette asked cautiously.

“My father is the police commissioner,” she said quietly.  “I may have snuck a look at the police report… slightly illegally… and read about your injuries.”

Marinette shook her head.  “But, I didn’t tell them about that.”

“No,” Barbara acknowledged, “but Signal did.”

Marinette nodded, trying to process that information. “Huh,” was all she managed to eke out. Her mind raced trying to figure out what to say next.  She was saved from trying to figure out how to move the conversation along by the waiter. The topic seemed to fade away naturally as everyone put in their order.

As soon as the waiter left, Duke clapped his hands with a bright smile.  “So, Steph, you said again.  I take it you guys have met before?”

“At the gala,” Adrien nodded.  “Only briefly though.  We,” he motioned between him and Stephanie, “spoke for a little bit, but Marinette only spoke with her for a few seconds.”

Stephanie grimaced at the reminder.  “Yeah… not exactly the ideal meeting.”

Marinette waved her off.  “Not your fault.  Don’t worry about it.”  She sent her a sincere smile.

“No,” Stephanie agreed.  “It’s Bruce’s.”

Cass pulled out a credit card with a wicked grin. “On Bruce.”

Barbara nodded.  “Exactly.  Therefore, this lunch is on Bruce.  Maybe we should go shopping after this too?”  She raised an eyebrow at Marinette.

Marinette giggled and shook her head.  “No, thank you.  That’s okay.  I’m good.”

Stephanie’s eyes lit up.  She leaned closer to Marinette like she was sharing a secret. “Speaking of the gala, how did you get tickets to the gala anyway?  We never figured it out.”  Barbara groaned lightly and smacked her on the shoulder.  They had just changed the subject.  Marinette probably did not want to talk about the gala, where they raved about their family and the newest member, which was not her and did not did not include her.

Instead of freezing up or withdrawing, like Barbara worried she would, Marinette started laughing.  Her eyes were sparkling with mirth.  She leaned closer to them over the table and lowered her voice. “I pimped out my friend,” she confided with a smirk.

The rest of the table froze until Adrien groaned and Stephanie and Duke started laughing loud enough to draw disapproving looks from neighboring tables.  Cass raised an eyebrow, but her lips were quirked up in amusement.  “Say that again,” Barbara prompted.

Marinette shrugged and took a sip of her drink.  “I don’t know if it counts as pimping if he did it willingly.  He was willing to do it for Max.”

“Oh my God, Marinette.”  Adrien ran his hand over his face in exasperation.

“What exactly was he willing to do?” Barbara’s voice was now less amused and more wary.

“That was the worst possible way to say it,” Adrien groaned.

“You know, maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that…” Barbara hedged.  She leaned away from Marinette cautiously.

Marinette laughed at Adrien’s frustration and bumped his shoulder with hers.  “I offered up a date with Luka Coffaine to Audrey Bourgeois’ PA in exchange for the tickets she turned down,” she explained.

There was absolute silence for a few seconds until Stephanie broke the silence.  “You know Luka Coffaine?” she yelled.  

Everyone in the café turned slowly to look at them. Marinette’s eyes widened and looked around at them.  She gave them an awkward smile and a wave before turning back to the table.  Before she could chastise Stephanie, Cass was already on top of it.  She pointed sternly around the restaurant and back at Stephanie.  Stephanie nodded guiltily.  “Yeah, yeah.  Sorry.” She turned back to Marinette excitedly. “I just…” she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Marinette.  “You know Luka Coffaine?”

Marinette rolled her eyes at her excitement.  It was always so bizarre to see people’s reaction to Luka.  It was Luka. Just Luka.  Calm, reserved, laidback Luka.  The hysteria around his name just never seemed to fit.  “Yeah, I mean, we dated for a while so… yeah.”

“You dated Luka Coffaine!” Stephanie yelled again, receiving glares from everyone at the table.  Marinette shrunk down in her chair and gave a strained, apologetic smile to the rest of the café.  Cass slapped Stephanie’s shoulder and shook her head.  Stephanie waved her off and focused back on Marinette.  “Yeah, yeah.  Discretion.  Whatever. She dated Luka freaking Coffaine,” Stephanie insisted, motioning to Marinette.

“You dated Tim Drake,” Duke pointed out.

Stephanie snorted.  “That’s just Tim.  He’s just a big dork.  She dated…”

“Yeah we got it,” Barbara cut her off.

“Really, so is Luka,” Adrien shrugged.  “Probably more so, just about music.”  Marinette cocked her head to the side in thought for a few seconds before nodding in agreement.  He really was.

“Holy shit.  Did he introduce you to his dad?”  Stephanie was bouncing in her seat at the idea and the potential for an inside scoop on Jagged Stone.

“No,” Marinette answered.  She smiled internally at the way all their faces, except for Adrien’s fell, just a bit, almost imperceptibly, as if trying to hide their disappointment.  “I already knew him.”

“You know Jagged Stone?” Stephanie yelled. Marinette cringed as she sent the other patrons another apologetic smile.

Duke leaned over closer to her so he could whisper in her ear, though his voice intentionally carried across the table. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore.”

“No!” Stephanie screeched, before catching what she did and settling down, a mask of composure settling on her face.  “I’m fine now.  I just needed to get that out.  I’m calm.” She stared at them for a few seconds before almost lunging across the table.  Adrien deftly moved his and Marinette’s drinks before she knocked them over in her zeal.  “Please tell me more.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started laughing.  “You realize you’re basically a daughter to the richest man in the world.  If you wanted to meet Jagged Stone, you could.”

Cass shook her head.  “Different.”

Barbara nodded.  “She’s right it is different.  You dated his son.  That’s a different type of knowing someone.”

“So you met Luka through Jagged?” Stephanie pressed.

Marinette suddenly looked uncomfortable.  She was not really excited to talk about their family dynamic and secrets.  It was a little too close to her own and she really, really wanted to move past that, not dwell on it more.  “No… I met Luka through my friend Juleka, his sister.  We went to school together for ages.  They’re both some of my best friends.”

“And she introduced you to Jagged?” Duke asked curiously.  He could tell something was off about this based on the way Marinette responded, but he wasn’t sure what.

“No… um…” she stuttered.  “I met Jagged through a school project.  Designed some sunglasses for him and we’ve been close ever since.”  Adrien grabbed her hand and squeezed it under the table

Stephanie looked between the two of them and plastered on a bright smile.  “So what I’m hearing is you can hook us up with some tickets next time he comes into town.”

Marinette laughed lightly.  “Either one of us could, yes.”

“Or for Clara Nightengale,” Adrien added in. “She loves Marinette, too.  She wanted her in one of her videos.”

“She wanted you in it too,” Marinette reminded him.

“No,” he corrected her, “Gabriel got me into it. She just had to deal with it.  She didn’t choose me.  She chose you.  She worked to get you in the video.”

Marinette opened her mouth to refute that but snapped it shut quickly as the words resonated in her head.  She meant more because Clara chose her.  He was thrust on Clara.  But it didn’t mean he was unwanted.  She looked down at her food and took a bite, trying to cover her sudden inability to breathe.  Trying to give herself time to process.  She needed to pack that away for later when she could properly unpack that statement, deconstruct it, and then finally reconstruct it in some skewed, perverted version of the original situation.

Adrien immediately froze seeing her reaction. He opened his mouth to say something but Marinette squeezed his hand under the table before he could, a silent message they could talk about it later, when they were alone, or at least not with an audience comprised of Waynes.

“So how did you meet Mons…” she stuttered.  It felt strange to call him M. Wayne when everyone else at the table was calling him Bruce.  Should she call him Bruce too?  Like they did.  Like Dick did?  Or B, like Jason did?  “…M. Wayne?” she finally settled on.

Duke grimaced.  They had a cover story, but was he really going to give Bruce’s daughter the cover story?  The truth involved Batman.  But Bruce hadn’t told her about that part of their lives yet, and even if he had told her, he certainly hadn’t told Adrien.  “It’s a long story…”

Marinette smiled encouragingly at him.  “We have time.” She saw him falter and felt her own smile falter.  She took note of the way the women had frozen up as well.  God, what was she doing?  M. Wayne had said how they met.  Why was she bringing that up now?  What was she thinking?  Even if he was okay discussing that trauma, he probably didn’t want to open up about it with a stranger.  

“You don’t have to tell me,” she assured him.  “It’s… it’s fine.”  She looked around desperately for something else to talk about, a change of topic to make the conversation not so awkward.  “You graduate from school next year, right?”  Duke blinked a few times before he let out a breath and nodded.  She let out a breath as well when the rest of the table seemed to relax at her question.  “Do you have plans for after you graduate?  Are you going to take a gap year or go to university or get a job?”

“I haven’t really decided yet.  Go to Gotham University, I guess,” he shrugged.

Marinette smiled disarmingly at him.  “You don’t have to decide now.  You have time.”

The waiter interrupted Marinette’s response with their food.  They gave their thanks and started eating.  “So what have you missed the most while you’ve been here?” Barbara asked.

“My parents’ cooking definitely,” Marinette grinned as she looked at her food. It didn’t look bad, but compared to her parents’ cooking… well not much compared.  “And the atmosphere.  Gotham is…” she looked around them as she thought of an unoffensive way to end that sentence.

“Dreary as Hell,” Stephanie finished for her.  “Yeah, we know.”

“I swear you guys have more gargoyles than we do though, which is just strange to me,” Adrien added.  “We were supposed to have the market cornered on gothic architecture.”

“Oh, you still do.  We just took the most depressing, dismal, gloomy, nightmare inducing parts and ran with it,” Duke grinned.  “But I would like to see Paris sometime.  Go see the Eiffel Tower… and jump off it.”

Barbara, Stephanie, and Cass all groaned at him.  Barbara gave him a stern look and pointed a warning finger in his face. “Not during the day.”

Duke laughed at her.  “Well I’m not going to do it at night.”

“Do it at sunrise,” Marinette advised.  “Less gendarmerie around then and if you angle it correctly, you get the most gorgeous view of the sunrise.”

“Bring sunglasses if you jump that way though.  I didn’t and I saw spots for hours.  Oh, and stretch first too,” Adrien added.  “You’re going to have to parkour for quite a while to try to ditch the GN.”

The rest of the table stared at them, jaws dropped in shock.  There was absolute silence at the table except for the sounds of Marinette sipping her drink and Adrien chewing his food. “You’ve…” Duke started almost too in awe to be able to finish the sentence.  “You’ve jumped off the Eiffel Tower?”

Marinette nodded and motioned between the two of them.  “Both of us have.  Both during an akuma attack and not.  Not was much preferable to during.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Stephanie asked slowly.  She was like 90% positive it was but during akuma attacks, who knew what was legal anymore and Hell, maybe they had days where they gave exceptions. Stranger things have happened.

Marinette speared a bit of food and pointed it at her.  “Only if you get caught.”  She popped the food in her mouth with a triumphant grin.

Barbara blinked at her a few times and shook her head because dear God, there was another one.  She was going to fit right in.  No wonder she and Duke got along so well.  Both creative, smart, kind, thrill seeking, dumbasses.  “I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works,” she deadpanned.

Adrien shrugged and took a sip of his drink.  “I don’t know.  We didn’t get arrested, so I’m pretty sure it is.”

Duke and Stephanie started laughing hysterically.  They looked over at Cass with raised eyebrows when they settled down. Cass stared intently at Marinette and Adrien for a few seconds, staring into them like she was reading their souls. Marinette and Adrien looked at each other with identical unsure looks and subconsciously leaned back at the same time, shuffling in their seats.  Cass stared at them for just a few more seconds before she nodded.

“Holy shit,” Duke muttered in awe.  “You were telling the truth.”

Marinette looked back over at Adrien for an explanation he clearly didn’t have, judging by the blank look on his face before looking back at Duke.  “Uh… yeah?”

“What just happened?” Adrien asked tentatively.

“Sorry about that,” Barbara sent them a disarming smile.  “Cass is kind of like a human lie detector.  She is exceptionally good at telling if someone is lying.  She just confirmed that you two were not.”

Marinette blinked at Barbara a few times before turning to Cass and blinking at her.  “Huh… good to know,” she nodded slowly.  Her eyes stayed on Cass but it was clear her mind was running a mile a minute behind them.  After a few seconds she spoke up again.  “Can you tell the lies people tell themselves too?”

Cass quirked her head to the side and studied Marinette for a moment and shook her head.  “Have to know.”

Marinette nodded and silently took a bite of her food. “Well, that has to come in handy,” Adrien chirped.  “Remind me to take you with me when I meet people.”

Marinette could feel eyes boring into her.  She looked back over at Cass and raised a curious eyebrow at her.  “Hero,” she finally said.

Marinette coughed for a second and looked back at her with her most convincing blank look.  “I’m sorry.  What?”

Cass nodded toward Marinette.  “Eiffel Tower.”

Marinette chuckled disarmingly and shook her head. “You think I’m a lot more honorable than I am.  You think it’s more likely that I was a hero than that I knowingly, intentionally, purposefully violated the law for fun.”  She leaned closer to Cass with a smirk.  “But I can assure you, I regularly did.”

The others at the table looked to Cass.  She quirked her head to the side and gave a small smile before nodding.  “Truth.”  Cass pointed to herself.  “Next time.”

Marinette grinned and nodded excitedly. “Absolutely.”

Duke cleared his throat.  “And Duke,” Cass added.

Marinette chuckled.  “Of course.  We can make a New Kids Club event out of it.”

“And me!” Stephanie chirped.

Barbara sighed and turned to Adrien.  “Dick said you had a job interview yesterday.  How did it go?”

Marinette beamed at Adrien as he responded. Adrien’s face lit up.  “It went well I think.  I think I’d really enjoy working there!  I met the department chair and other professors.  It looks like a really supportive department and University, very research oriented.”

“Where is it?” Duke asked between bites.

“Metropolis,” Adrien answered, his fondness he’d already developed for the city bleeding into his tone.

“Oooh, Conner lives there.  If you’re still deciding if you want to live there or if you need a tour guide, or recommendations on where to eat, he’d be more than happy to help,” Stephanie offered.

Marinette’s smile turned into a pointed smirk and Adrien groaned quietly.  “Conner, did you say?”

Stephanie looked between them, her brow furrowing in confusion.  “Yeah?”

“That wouldn’t happen to be Tim’s single friend would it?”  Her eyes never left Adrien as she asked, her smirk somehow getting even sharper.

Adrien groaned even louder when he looked over and saw Cass’ smile matched Marinette’s and Duke and Stephanie both had devious, familiar looking glints in their eyes.  This was clearly payback for all his attempts to set Marinette and Chloe up with different people.  “Why yes, yes it is.  How about that,” Duke grinned.

Cass pulled out her phone and moved her finger around the screen for a second then finally looked up with an innocent looking smile.  Adrien groaned and dropped his head into his hands.  “I’m not even in this family.  Why am I being punished?”

Barbara laughed and popped a bit of food in her mouth. “That’s funny.  You think just because there’s no paperwork, you haven’t been adopted already.  I made that mistake at first too.”

Chapter 19

Tags:

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[mischiefmanaged71]

Bad Romance - Joaquin Torres X Reader

Song: Bad Romance - (961) lady gaga - bad romance ( s l o w e d ) - YouTube

Summary: The reader is an enhanced individual with the ability to replicate other people’s abilities. A member of the Avengers, she has been working alongside Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes to investigate the Flag Smashers but the man calling himself the next Captain America poses an obstacle when he takes interest in her abilities. 

Author’s Note: Hello! So this is my first time posting a fic I've written. I’ve been writing since 2018 but never had the courage to post anything so I hope you all enjoy my story. Torres has only been in ‘The Falcon and The Winter Soldier’ for like five minutes but I’m in love with him. There obviously isn’t enough fiction out there about him so I took it upon myself to write one. This is an idea I came up with in my head, aside from the plot of the show. Listen to the song for added effect. I’ve inserted timings as well :)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres X Fem!Reader

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS, Canon-level Violence, blood, romance

Word count: 2.5K

Darkness is all you’ve known these past hours.

It’s been almost twenty-four hours since you’ve last had contact with anyone. Sam would usually check in with you about now, but that didn’t seem a likely possibility. 

Your right eye is almost swollen shut and you’re pretty confident that you have a few broken ribs from how difficult breathing is. The sound of metal creaking echoes in the empty room as you rattle your restraints. 

You’ve been quite literally chained to the wall. 

They weren’t taking any precautions.

Especially after witnessing the dozen agents you could take down all by yourself. 

Leaning against the wall, you try to reach some semblance of comfort, laying some of your weight against the hard-rock. Your neck burns from the collar they attached when you caught you off-guard. 

It was during a recon mission, you were chasing a lead about the Flag Smashers’ next meet up when they showed. Half a dozen armed men in tactical gear. 

They snagged a collar on you, disabling your powers.

You didn’t anticipate this.

All you heard was a piercing noise and then you blacked out.

You couldn’t access your powers as soon as that light buzzed. Trying to summon fire warranted a little electric shock to your system. Little, meaning severe enough to take down an elephant. 

Yeah, so getting out of here would be tricky.

Isn’t it always?

Five guards have remained in the room for the past two days, monitoring, watching. 

For what? 

You have only the slightest idea why.

The double doors which have remained close for the past two days creak open. The blue uniform is familiar to you but the face donning the outfit is not. He’s an imposter wearing a costume, a mock of the real thing. John Walker, along with his so-called ‘American squadron’, had grabbed you as a statement. Sam and Bucky certainly weren’t going to stay out of it because someone told them to. You all followed a code, to protect those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

“Hello, Y/N, it's been a while since we met last...I’m sorry for the way you were handled on the way here but it was the only way I could get to talk to you.”, he said, looking at the bruises beginning to form.

He talked nonchalantly as if this were a normal conversation. Your wrists were raw from pulling away from the cuffs, clothes covered in dirt and dried blood. He strode up to you, pulling his helmet off and placing it carefully on a metal crate.

“Now, I know Bucky and Sam had a lot to say about me, but you, you were always silent. I thought we had an understanding.”

‘An understanding?’

You refuse to look at him.

“You talk big words for someone who couldn’t begin to understand the legacy of that uniform.”

“I earned this! I put in the work. All they want is someone to look up to. To show them that justice still exists.”, he paces in front of you.

“Justice. Is it?”, your eyes narrow.

He pauses in thought, seething with internalised spite. Pacing the floor, he turns his back to you.

“Have you had time to think about my question?”

You remain silent, glaring at his mockery of Steve’s uniform.

“No? Okay. That’s fine,”, he whispered.

Walker signalled for a guard to open the doors once more and two more men entered, dragging someone along. You squint your eyes to identify the person as they dump them in front of you. 

“No”, you whispered desperately, your breath caught in your throat.

You spot Joaquin’s dark hair and tan complexion, more so, the blood staining his clothes. The men dragged Joaquin next to Walker, letting him slump to the floor. From what you could see, he had been beaten pretty badly, the bruises already beginning to form on his face. His hands are cuffed behind him and he’s unable to hold his own weight. 

Panic fills Torres as he notices the chains securing you to the wall. The last he heard over the coms was a struggle. He and Sam had been surveilling to get anything they could on your kidnappers.

You could only hear the rapid beating of your heart in your throat as blood rushed to your face. Your breathing quickens as you don’t quite know what will happen next. 

John broke the silence,

“I’m going to ask you again.”

“Then, I'm going to count from three.”, he said, pulling a silencer out from his waistband and cocking it at Joaquin who rested on his knees.

“What are you?”

You stare at him incredulously, unresponsive. 

You look down at Joaquin as he gazes up at you, helpless to move with guns trained on you. He’s telling you to stop, to lie, to do anything but give yourself up.

“What answer do you want?”, you asked, using all your strength to lift your head up.

“You want me to say I’m a freak? A mutant? An experiment? What good does that do you? Everyone knows it.”, you huff, sharpening your glare.

He stares down at Joaquin and kicks his foot out against the ground, clicking his tongue. Walker threw his foot into Joaquin’s back, pushing him into the floor.

“Not that.”

You watch as he points the gun harder.

“Tell me. What. You. Are.”, he grits out.

You clench your jaw hard, shutting your eyes tightly. A burning sensation fights in your chest, spreading to your arms. You suck in a breath desperately, a whimper tearing from your throat as your head drops.

The click of the safety echoes loudly.

(1:26s of the song)

Your eyes shoot open, blazing red and as the chains snap free from the wall. The metal clangs loudly against the floor, triggering the five weapons now pointed at your chest. A surge of fire ignites as you swipe your leg, knocking the agents back. The two standing closest raise their guns as you tilt your head and launch a blast of fire from your hand. The next agent replaces him, firing his gun consecutively, but you strut towards him, swiping them away with blasts omitting from your hands. You send a roundhouse kick with a wall of fire, propelling him through the exit. The remaining three encircle you with their weapons, clicking the safety off.

Your hands burn, glowing red with the heightening energy,

“Okay, you got me.”

You raise your hands in surrender as one of them steps towards. Faltering a step, you inhale deeply as he grabs your arm. Once he sets a hand on you, you exhale, breathing out a stream of fire. You twirl in a circle, the fire pushing them back and blocking their sight of you as they flinch from the heat. Dropping to the floor, you strike the cement and crack the surface. The building’s structure shakes as a cloud of energy dissipates from the contact, incapacitating the last of the soldiers.

Walker fixes his gun on Joaquin but you focus your glare on him. You wait as he stares at you, knowing he has the advantage.

"I'd stop right now, if I were you."

You silently stare at him with blazing fire burning in your orbs. The clicking of the safety reverberates in your mind as all movement stops. The muzzle of the gun is inches away from Joaquin's head.

“Alright, you’ve had your show now.”

You've got mere seconds to make a decision here.

He remains still, as Joaquin’s eyes meet yours and you nod your head slightly. 

It’ll be okay because you’d never let anything happen to each other.

"Walker, you've made your point. Look, it's me you really want, not Torres.", You snipped, grabbing his attention. 

Joaquin’s heart raced faster, 

What were you doing?

You could see the gears turning in Walker’s head, his eyebrows perk up.

"C'mon, this whole thing was to get to me, right? To weaponize me. It's my power. So take it. Just let him go." 

Walker pauses in thought,

"I don't think I will." 

You knew that'd be his answer but he was too busy looking at you to notice anything else. Joaquin threw his leg out, kicking Walker’s shin to knock him off his centre.

Moving quickly, you roundhouse, knocking the gun from his hand and driving your foot into his knee. He lets out a pained yell, ducking your elbow jab and rolling behind you. You roll forwards, swooping your flames across the floor to knock Walker on his back. He rolls to the side, standing again to flick open a compact switch from his pocket. He struggles for a moment as you strut over, but he presses the button down with conviction. 

You falter in your steps as a loud piercing sound breaches your cranium and hearing. It’s overwhelming, threatening to shatter your skull. A whimper falls from your mouth as both hands grasp your head. You can faintly hear Joaquin yelling your name from behind. The pain is unbearable. Joaquin bangs the cuffs on a metal crate behind him, forcing them to break. 

Your vision blurs as you clumsily move towards Walker. Once you’re close enough to him, you throw an uncoordinated right hook but he catches it and returns with a kick to your chest, knocking you to the floor. The pain continues, eliciting a moan from you as it grows worse with each second. Joaquin watches as you scream in agony, sprinting towards Walker and tackling him to the floor. Walker loses the switch from his hand, punching Joaquin in the jaw to get him off. Joaquin hisses as his head hits the floor, but he’s quickly grappling for the switch before Walker can get his hands on it. Scanning the floor, he sights it inches away from where you’re curled up in a ball. He’s crawling over to make it but a grip on his shoulder halts him, flipping him over and punching him repeatedly. 

Over the intense clanging, you see black dots form in your sight as you want to pass out. You hear grunts nearby and the sound of a fist making contact with skin. You flicker your eyes upward to see Walker’s figure looming over someone. 

‘Joaquin...where’s Joaquin?’

You close your eyes and force yourself up, struggling to gain your bearings. Upon opening your eyes, you notice something within your reach. Crawling forward, your fingers barely touch it. You try again and again before you feel the metal beneath your fingertips. Finally, you have it in your hands and crush it. The metal crunches and the ringing ceases. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you push yourself off the floor.

More coherent now, you angrily send a blast of energy to knock Walker off of Joaquin. Scrambling off the floor, he brings his fists in front of him, but you've already there, standing in front of him.

"I’m going to count from three.”, you said.

Striking a wave in his direction, you blast fire into his chest, your eyes imbuing fluttering embers.

‘Three’

You continue your onslaught, attacking him with multiple blows of rage. 

Your figure looms over Walker, blocking Joaquin from his sight.  

‘Two’

Your hands emit a fiery glow as you project flames, igniting a huge blast which sends Walker crashing through the window and down below.

‘One’

Gazing down the terrace, you saw Walker’s unconscious body laying on the crushed roof of a car. The authorities would show up eventually. 

Looking back inside, you finally start to feel the adrenaline rush declining. You move away from the window to find Torres leaning against a crate. Joaquin's face is bruised and cut-up as he holds his side with a grimace. 

"Joaquin, are you okay?!", 

You rush over to hold his other arm, scanning him for serious injuries. 

He stops your moving hands to grip them,

"(Y/N), I'm okay, I'm okay. It's you I'm worried about. You almost died. How did you do that?", Joaquin asked, concern lingering in his eyes at the magnitude of your powers.

"I-I don't know. I guess my powers have always been linked to my emotions and then you were in danger. It was kind of instinctive, you know?"

"I could never let anything happen to you. Never.", She whispered silently, not noticing if he had caught it.

Joaquin moved to grasp her chin in his hand, pulling her head up so he could look into her eyes.

"You saved me."

You glanced over his face and the clear pain he was hiding from his injuries. 

"You have no idea how glad I am that you're okay. I-I was afraid...It shouldn't have been you.", You said to Joaquin, tears glinting in your sight.

"I'm not going anywhere. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.", he said, moving closer as your eyes meet his deep and endearing gaze.

"We should call Sam.", You suggested.

"I'll call him later."

Yours eyes met as he leaned his forehead on yours. You inhaled deeply as he gripped your hands tightly as if you would fall out of his grasp. Joaquin's arms encircle your waist and pull you in his embrace. Your arms rest around his neck, nestling your head against his shoulder.

You hold each other tightly in a moment of calm, seeking comfort from that person. The one person you would always seek out. 

You pull away, but his arms remain around your waist.

"You're so beautiful.", He whispers.

Your breathing shudders for a second before you decide to go for it,

"I-I love you, Joaquin."

You gauge his reaction as his eyes widen slightly. He leans in and guides his lips to yours. He kissed you slowly and passionately, his hands still gripping your waist. You sigh and stand on your tip-toes, tugging the hairs on the back of Joaquin's neck to bring him closer. You both pause, gasping for air for a moment. Kisses linger in between breaths as you both wind down from the intense 24 hours you've had, emotionally and physically.

"For the record, I love you too.", He grins, laughing at your eye roll.

"I didn't quite catch that, why don't you show me again?", You winked, biting your lip as his arms swooped around you again and tugged you closer. 

Barely brushing your lips, he looks between your eyes and then your lips.

"I think we can arrange that."

Your breath catches as your lips brush his. You smiled, closing your eyes, as does Joaquin. You swayed in his arms as his lips encased yours once more. 

Suddenly, red and blue flashing lights breach your vision from below. Sirens surrounded you both. You separated, glancing outside the broken window. 

Police cars surrounded the building. Reinforcements had arrived. His hand still grips yours and you motion to help him take some of his weight, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

"We should get of here.", You pushed open the door to exit down a flight of stairs. 

"Yeah.", Joaquin replied, grinning down at you as you walked out together.

Reblog, like, comment if you liked it and any thoughts xx

[the-lonelybarricade]

La Vie En Rose: Chapter 3

Chapter title: Apple Tarts and Other Hazards of a Cauldronblessed Courtship

Hi loves! The first draft of my dissertation is due today at midnight, so I haven't had a chance to edit this very thoroughly or respond to the lovely comments you've all left me on the last chapter. Please know your sweet words mean the whole world to me and I will take some time to respond to y'all on the weekend. I really hope you enjoy!

Fic Summary: After everyone is freed from Under the Mountain, Elain is given the opportunity to stay in the Spring Court as a human so she can get to know her soulmate. Set in the timeline from A Court of Faded Dreams.

Read on A03 ❀ Masterlist

Elain greeted the milky twilight with bleary eyes. She’d had another sleepless night in the too-big, too-lavish bed, and she’d tried to fall back asleep for a good hour before she’d given up and settled once more against the window, watching the silent grounds beneath, admiring the wisteria vines that climbed the trellises, dancing in the soft breeze.

She lost track of how much time she spent there, admiring the sprawling gardens, before the first of the servants interrupted the still night. It was a quiet trickle at first, staff moving about to light the hallways, moving slow as the dew droplets against the windowpane. But soon that morning bustle erupted, before even the first break of light, the servants of the manor hard at work to keep things running before their master woke.

Elain took it as her signal to stretch and dress herself. She held her breath as she carefully opened her door, eyes focused on the room across from her, praying Lucien’s heightened senses wouldn’t alert him to her early departure.

The winding halls weren’t familiar to her, and she realized as she wandered them that she wasn’t certain where she was going. She had a general direction—had noticed the rising smoke coming from one end of the manor, where most of the servants seemed to be coming and going with baskets of freshly harvested vegetables. Once she was close enough, the clamor of pots and knives and idle chatter guided her the rest of the way.

Everything went quiet upon her entrance. The faerie closest to her stopped midway through chopping a handful of vegetables, knife paused in the motion and hovering just above the chopping block. A group of females quickly set down their teacups, as though Elain would snap at them for taking a moment to themselves so early in the morning.

“Lady,” one of them said, bowing low to her. The rest of the fae watched with wide eyes. “Good morning. Is there something we can help you with?”

How Tamlin treated his servants was a mystery to her, but Elain was familiar with the shift that had taken place before her eyes. How the easy, relaxed way that common folk worked when they weren’t in the presence of their employers had morphed to stiff pleasantries at her arrival.

“Please, just call me Elain,” she said kindly, sweeping her eyes over the entire room so they all knew they were welcome to address her familiarly. “There’s no need to treat me like nobility. I couldn’t sleep, you see, and I’ve come to see if there was any way I could help.”

The faerie who spoke immediately shook her head, her vine-like hair rustling with the motion. “There’s no help needed, Lady. An esteemed guest like yourself shouldn’t get her hands dirty doing a servant’s work. If you’d like we can send for someone to help you bathe while we make an early breakfast for you.”

Elain pressed her lips together. They hadn’t considered her offer for even a second, and they all watched her so carefully. Held still, their attention to their work completely interrupted by her appearence. One of the cooks shifted his weight, his pupil-less, iridescent eyes focused wholly on her, yet giving nothing away in his expression. Did they resent that she was there, interrupting their work and owed their respect despite being utterly human?

“No, thank you,” she said softly, offering a kind, placating smile that was geared towards disarming some of that professionalism. “That’s very kind, but won’t be necessary.” She thought quickly, trying to think of how best to break through the unspoken boundary between servant and nobility. “I was actually…” she bit her lip, playing at being bashful. “I was hoping to bake something for Lucien and Tamlin. Apple tarts. As a way of saying ‘thank you for hosting me’.”

It wasn’t a lie. When they’d returned from patrol clad in flower crowns and woven bracelets, they’d found that Tamlin had insisted on having dinner in his study, so they’d eaten dinner alone together. Conversation had flowed comfortably between them; Lucien had asked her after each new thing she tried if she preferred it, wanting to know if she liked her wine sweet or dry, her tea strong or weak, each time looking as though he were trying to commit her responses to memory. Yet he artfully deflected each of her questions in turn, revealing nothing of himself like he’d done in the meadow. It seemed awfully silly to Elain, since she was only trying to know what foods he preferred. Was he being shy? Or was it another game of sorts? It was what prompted her to ask Alis after some of his preferences when she returned to her room that evening. At the very least, she could befriend the servants to sneak her the information she desired.

She watched the staff exchange uncertain glances, but some of them… some of them smiled knowingly. They looked to the cook who stood in the center, an air of authority to him that made Elain guess it was his kitchen, and he crooked a smile when Elain looked at him with those beseeching, docile eyes that always seemed to win people over in her youth.

“That’s kind of you, Lady,” he said, a roughness to his voice that made her feel relieved. It was less subservient, and she was delighted at the unspoken acceptance from the one in charge. “You’re welcome to use the kitchen as you wish.”

He nodded towards one of the females with pearl-like skin, and she immediately came forward to help Elain, smile friendly in spite of the sharp teeth that poked through her lips.

Like the rest of the staff, the female was politely distant at first, kind in her instruction as Elain shaped and rolled the dough. At first she’d seemed inclined to take over any task that required Elain get her hands dirty—crumbling the flour and butter together, chopping the apples, soaking them in the spiced sugar, but at one point she stepped back and blinked at Elain.

“You seem practiced at this, Lady,” she said, and though her tone was astonished Elain was certain it was meant as a compliment.

“Thank you,” she said shyly. “I started cooking out of necessity, but I’ve recently taken a fondness to it.”

The faerie nodded slowly, bright eyes sweeping over Elain with a newfound curiousity. Around them, the kitchen had returned to its liveliness, staff rushing about and chatting as though Elain were no longer out of place being there, and she found that to be a relief.

At one point, one of the females placed a cup of tea on the counter beside her, smiling in a way that was more friendly than it was polite, and Elain grinned back similarly. She asked the cooks questions about their food and the spices they used, ever curious, and explained to them how different it was from the food across the wall—how much better. They responded by letting her taste their dishes at nearly every step of the way, talking in that way that was driven by love and passion, and she marveled at it. How human they seemed, despite their sharp teeth and odd colored skin. And how kind and welcoming they were being, despite what Lucien said in the meadow. She saw nothing of the callused hearts of the fae that led them to cruelty.

Instead she saw eyes crinkled with laughter as they teased her about the tarts she slid into the oven.

“You know, they say cooking is the quickest way to a male’s heart,” one of the females said with a tinkling laugh.

Another coyly pressed her face into her tea as she mumbled how apple tarts in particular are a popular dish in the Autumn court. When Elain’s face flamed, it earned her a chorus of playful winks and laughter that was all kind in spirit.

“It’s no secret that Lord Lucien is fond of apple tarts, I’ve caught him sneaking some out of this very kitchen,” a female said while clicking her tongue. “Right off the cooling rack.”

Elain grinned at the mock outrage. There was an affection to it that made her think the staff was fond of him. “I would have thought better of Lucien’s upbringing.”

One of the cooks snorted. “Autumn males are known for plenty, and manners would be the last to come up on that list.”

“What would be the first?” she asked, making an effort to sip her tea casually so she wouldn’t give away that her interest was honed entirely on the question.

The head cook smirked. “The fire in their blood, I would say.”

She wondered at that meaning for a moment, before the females descended into giggles that caused Elain’s face to heat.

❀❀❀

By the time she returned to her rooms to dress and bathe, Alis was waiting for her. She raised her brows in silent question, undoubtedly curious where Elain had wandered off to so early in the morning. Elain only offered the female a coy smile, raising a basket of flower trimmings she’d asked a servant to fetch and asking Alis if she’d be kind enough to braid them into her hair.

The effect had certainly paid off. She noted with no small amount of pride that Lucien’s eyes seemed to bulge when she’d casually strolled in for breakfast, happily noting the males had already dug into the pastries.

In her excitement, she’d entirely forgone pleasantries.

“How are they?”

Lucien, of course, picked up on this immediately, raising his unmarred brow. “Someone’s feeling especially chipper this morning.”

Tamlin smiled, deciding to humor her. “Good morning, Elain. How are what?”

She beamed at him. “The tarts I made.”

Lucien sputtered, immediately beginning to choke on the forkful of pastry he’d just shoveled into his mouth. Elain came to him in concern, laying her hand delicately on his back. “Are you alright, Lucien?”

Meanwhile, Tamlin was ducking his face behind a napkin to hide his laughter. Unfortunately, the flimsy piece of cloth did nothing to hide the sound of it. She moved away from Lucien, face burning.

“Am I missing something?”

Tamlin composed himself enough to gesture to the pastries that sat in a heaping pile in the center of the table. “You made these?”

His voice was ripe with something she couldn’t quite place—mischief, perhaps, as though something had gone horribly wrong and he couldn’t help but find it hilarious. Lucien on the other hand had turned a peculiar grey sort of color.

Elain looked to the plate, frowning when she didn’t spot the honeyed shine of her apple tarts. These ones were dolloped with other fruits—mostly berries, from the looks of it.

“No,” she observed curiously. “Not these ones, it seems. I baked some apple tarts this morning, to share with you two as thanks for hosting me so graciously.”

She glanced curiously to Lucien, whose face had regained some of its coloring; if anything, his cheeks surprisingly seemed to go the opposite direction, taking on a rosy flush she’d yet to see from the male. But his posture had relaxed.

“If you made the tarts, the servants would have known better than to serve them to Lucien and I,” Tamlin explained, gentle in a way she knew was designed to spare her from embarrassment.

Yet she didn’t feel anything of the sort. She felt… hurt. Were her pastries really of such a poor standard that they weren’t worth serving to the very people she’d baked them for?

Lucien cleared his throat. “They wouldn’t serve them to me,” he corrected, trying to catch her eye. She looked towards him, silently pleading for an explanation, and something about the way his face softened made her heart feel lighter. “Because if I ate something you’d cooked for me, then that means we’ve accepted the bond.”

Oh. Oh. Her hands flew to her face, mostly in an attempt to hide the furious blush she could feel scorching against her cheekbones. Now she was embarrassed. More than that, mortified. And Lucien’s reaction, it made sense, but had he really been so appalled at the idea of the bond being accepted?

“Granted, the bond hadn’t snapped yet, so who’s to say it would have any effect at all?” Tamlin mused. “It’s exceedingly rare to know who your mate is prior to the bond snap, but I suppose it’s better to exercise caution.”

“I would have explained it to you, if I’d known it would come up,” Lucien said, voice remorseful as he seemed to sense not just her humiliation, but the something under it, the latent disappointment. She was certain it was written all over her face, despite how she tried to cover it with her hands.

“That’s quite alright,” she said, only hoping now that she could flee with what little was left of her dignity. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to freshen up very quickly.”

Lucien made a sound as though he were calling after her, but her name didn’t seem to finish forming in his throat before the double doors were swinging shut behind her, cheeks flaming worse at the bellowing sound of Tamlin’s laugh that trailed her down the hall, continuing still to echo in her mind long after she was out of earshot.

❀❀❀

She’d rightfully decided not to return for breakfast, nor for lunch—perhaps not for another meal ever again. Starving to death in her lavish room seemed a much better option than having to face the abasement that had occurred that morning. She didn’t know if she’d be able to look either male in the eye if she returned for dinner, certainly not Lucien. Not after she’d seen his reaction to thinking that he was eternally bound to her.

Well, perhaps not eternally, because with his rotten luck he’d been bound to a human, and if she decided to stay that way then he’d have at most what? 60-70 years with his mate? They were pebbles compared to his mountain of a lifespan. Maybe that’s why he was entertaining it in the first place, thinking he could grin and bear it for half a century out of a favor for his friend and then it’d be over with.

There was a knock at her door, which caused her to sigh. Alis had already been in twice before, hoping to ply her with food, concerned that she’d skipped breakfast and lunch.

You’re already skin and bones, girl, you can’t afford to be missing meals, she’d said on the last visit.

“Alis, truly, I’m not hung—oh.” She’d thrown the door open, words leaving her mouth before she’d truly registered who stood before her. “Lucien, hi.”

He sported an impish smile as he raised a basket of muffins—freshly baked, by the smell of them. “Though I wasn’t able to try the tarts, you were kind enough to bake my favorite pastry for me. I thought I’d return the favor—since you can eat the food I make, no strings attached.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at the basket, accepting it with thinly veiled astonishment. “You baked these?”

“I needed a bit of help,” he admitted. “And alas, none of the servants are privy to your favorites yet, so I made another of mine.”

Her heart thudded a demanding tempo in her chest. “This is very kind, Lucien. Thank you. I don’t think… staff excluded, I don’t think anyone’s ever baked something for me.”

The smile he offered her was soft. Nostalgic. “My mother used to bake these for me. On special occasion, a long time ago. Besides her, though, no one else has been so thoughtful. Until today.” He nodded towards her breakfast table. “Might I come in? Share a muffin?”

Elain gestured him inside accommodatingly. “Of course, have a seat. I’ll fetch someone to make us tea—”

A gentle hand at her elbow stopped her halfway out the door. She turned to Lucien, frowning curiously.

“Sit, have a muffin. I’ll send for tea. You excessively doting little thing.”

With a bashful smile, Elain complied and went to sit at the breakfast table. Eventually Lucien returned, a tea tray balanced in hand. He poured her a cup, then himself, before sliding gracefully into the seat across from her.

He was grinning. Something bold and furious and irritatingly smug.

“What?” It was perhaps closer to a snap than she’d intended.

“Oh, nothing. Just the flowers in your hair, the apple tarts… if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to impress me.”

The smile she gave him was sickly-sweet. “Well, it’s fortunate you know better.”

“I wouldn’t be so assured. As an emissary, I do tend to thoroughly investigate my suspicions, before I make up my mind.”

Elain straightened, her heart skittering as she sensed the game commence. “And have you, then? Made up your mind?”

He hummed a noncommittal sound. “Not quite. Though I’m certainly uncovering some compelling evidence.”

She watched him take a too casual bite of a muffin, tracking the way a few errant crumbs stuck to the corner of his lips. His tongue darted to catch them, and the movement sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies aflutter in her stomach. Then slowly, the corner of those sensuous lips curled into a smirk, and Lucien cleared his throat.

“I think the staring counts as evidence, don’t you, Elain? I must say it’s a first having to remind someone where my eyes are—it’s usually the scar that captures their attention.”

“I wasn’t staring,” she said, nearly wincing at how defensive she sounded even to her own ears. Judging by Lucien’s increasing smugness, and the hotness of her face, she knew her cheeks had turned a shade similar to the rosebuds she’d had Alis braid into her hair. Still, she tried to save face. “You simply have a bit of muffin on the corner of your lips.”

“Do I now?” he asked with a roguish grin, leaning across the table. “Would you mind getting it for me?”

“Yes,” Elain answered immediately, “I certainly would mind.”

“Oh, come on, little dove,” he crooned, smiling sweetly. “I won’t bite. Well, not unless you ask me to.”

Pushing down the nerves that skittered relentlessly in the pit of her stomach, Elain reached forward and pressed the pad of her thumb to his impossibly soft lips, tracing the path his tongue had followed to brush away the pretend crumbs. “There,” she said, trying to pull away calmly and not as if her thumb felt scorched from where she touched his mouth. “It’s gone.”

He leaned back, looking far too satisfied with himself. “Thank you.”

She suddenly felt like throwing her tea on him, but restrained herself with the reasoning that she’d just be bringing herself down to his level. Just like his comment about getting under her skirts yesterday, he was trying to get a rise out of her. And if this was a game, she had to be cleverer than that. She needed to outsmart him.

As she thought carefully about how she could retaliate, she plucked a muffin from the basket, wanting to try the treat that Lucien had kindly gone out of his way to bake for her.

It was sweet and moist, filled with tart, juicy berries that burst on her tongue. She smiled to think of Lucien making them for her—the domesticity seemed so at odds with his otherwise prickly exterior.

Lucien was watching her too, she realised, and just for revenge she darted her tongue out to trace the imaginary berry juice on her lips. It seemed to send his mechanical eye into a spin, the russet one darkening.

“Now who’s staring?” She teased.

Lucien laughed, not the least bit concerned at being caught. “Not at all—it just seems I’ve made some terribly messy muffins. Here.” He licked his thumb and leaned forward once more, swiping it against Elain’s lower lip in one fluid motion. But unlike Elain, who’d pulled away as soon as she’d finished the movement, Lucien let his thumb linger at the edge of her lip, applying enough pressure to part her lips ever so slightly.

“I think you got it,” she said, cursing her voice for sounding so shaky.

“Not yet,” he hummed, rubbing his thumb at an invisible stain.

“Keep this up and I’ll be the one biting,” she warned.

He only smirked. “You mistake me for someone who wouldn’t enjoy that.”

Since this whole evening was seemingly comprised of calling each other’s bluffs, Elain teasingly nipped at his thumb. But true to his word, Lucien’s delight only seemed to increase, and he refused to withdraw his hand like she’d expected him to. Likewise, Elain refused to be the one to pull away.

“And to think,” he mused, meeting her eyes as he kept the tip of his thumb between her teeth, “all along it was the human who should have been assuring me she wouldn’t bite. You feral little thing.”

Elain raised her brows challengingly, causing Lucien to smile—warm and endearingly—as he pulled his hand away.

“You’ve a competitive streak,” he commented, fingers nonchalantly snagging at his teacup as though he hadn’t just had his finger in her mouth. “Funny how Feyre didn’t mention that.”

“Ladies aren’t competitive,” Elain said primly, mirroring his disregard.

Lucien practically choked on his tea. “That’s far from the truth for any lady I’ve ever met,” he said, recovering his composure. “Isn’t that the whole point of your social seasons? Competing for the best match?”

She raised her chin. “Maybe for some. But I wanted a love match. That’s what I mourned the most, when we were impoverished. I didn’t care about the balls, or the lavish comforts of wealth. It was the privilege to be able to marry for love. When you’re poor, you don’t have that luxury. Feyre was desperate to marry us off to the first suitors who could look past our status. I knew it was because she wanted us to have a better life, but I struggled in giving up that dream.”

Lucien looked contemplative, that mechanical eye assessing her as he absentmindedly trailed his finger over the rim of his teacup. “You know, a mating bond doesn’t always guarantee a love match. Sometimes it’s just about who will create the strongest offspring. Tamlin’s parents were like that.”

Was that another comment to discourage her from accepting the bond? She simply didn’t know enough about him to tell.

“Feyre and Rhys certainly seem smitten.”

His lip curled. “Disgustingly so, if you ask me.”

“Are your parents mates?”

He seemed to go stiff at the subject change—she could observe the tension in his shoulders, even as he attempted to maintain his relaxed tracing of the teacup.

“Far from it, I’m afraid. Theirs is an unhappy political marriage, which is very common in Prythian. What your sister and Rhysand have—it’s actually quite rare indeed.”

Elain decided to forgo this senseless dance around what they truly meant. “Are you saying that you don’t think we’d be happy together, if we mated?”

He almost seemed to cringe at that. Cringe.

Lucien ‘s words were measured, careful. “I think that there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Elain.”

“Not for lack of trying, Lucien.”

His eyes flashed. “There’s some things you wouldn’t want to know. And moreover, there’s plenty I’m not ready to say.”

“Is it because I’m human?” she asked, quietly.

He went still. Then he blinked, seemingly in surprise. “Of course not.” His lips had curled into a frown. “At least, not in the way that you think. It doesn’t help that it means you’re weak—”

Elain reeled back as if he’d stung her. “Weak?”

“Yes, Elain. Weak. Because you’re a human in Prythian, so if anyone wanted to hurt you, they could do it in half a breath. And because it’s me that you’re mated to, that line of people goes out the door. I’ve an entire court of powerful enemies, Elain. And the first person they’d go after is you.” His tone had gone bitter, something sharper under it, like pain. “Love match or not, I don’t want that for you.”

She thought carefully about what Lucien had just exposed to her. This was a wound of his heart, she could tell, though its origins were a mystery to her. And though she was undeniably weak, that didn’t mean she was defenseless in this land.

She reached out and grabbed Lucien’s hand, surprisng them both.

“Personal grudges aside, it’d be a very foolish political move to come after me. I’m the sister of Feyre Cursebreaker, savior of Prythian and High Lady of the Night Court. I’m your mate. Already, harming me would mean war with two courts, let alone any who feels indebted to Feyre for what she did. Whoever chose to come after me would need to have a death wish first, or a powerful enough backing to justify that kind of war. With Hybern coming, would your enemies truly be so foolish, especially so soon after escaping enslavement?”

His expression gave away nothing, but his voice was softer as he mused, “now who sounds like the courtier?”

Elain smiled, not the practiced one she so often flashed at people to seem gentle and placating, but one that flourished unintentionally.

“Most of all, Lucien, I trust you. You promised my sister you’d keep me safe, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he answered with a slow nod, looking almost bewildered.

“Then keep your promise. Unless, of course, you think looking after a single human is too much for you to handle?”

This time, Lucien laughed outright, shaking his head. “You’re so different from the way Feyre described you.” He paused, sweeping his eyes over her as though he were assessing something. “Alright, Elain. I promise you that I’ll keep you safe.”

She laughed, too, relieved to see he’d cheered up. “How is this promise different from the one you made to Feyre?”

His russet eye was impossibly serious as it bored into hers. “Because I’m promising this as your mate. Not as a bargain, or as your friend, like I had with Feyre. But because you are the lone person in this world that I will do anything to protect.”

Elain was a bit startled by such a declaration, and from the amused smile curling his lips she knew that Lucien could tell.

“And Elain?” he added, grin turning as rakish as she’d accused him of being yesterday.

She hesitated, certain he was going to say something outlandish. “Yes?”

“I do consider this a courtship. And if your dream is to have a love match, that’s what I intend to be to you. Whatever game you wish to play, I’m going to win it.”

“Why, Lucien,” she teased. “Are you saying you’re going to make me fall in love with you?”

His answering grin was near feral. “I’m saying you won’t be able to help it.”

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@arrowmusings @daydreamer-anst @imsecretlyaherondale-blog @darling-archeron

[a-punk-arachnid]

Abruptly, the guards closest to him were whisked away - and an all too familiar face was peering down at him.

“When you stop running, people hit you with things.”

Miles grinned up at her through his mask.

"Yeah, but I gotcha out of your cell, didn't I?" He riposted cheerfully, clasping her outstretched hand with a clawed gauntlet and slinging himself back up to his feet with an ease that was mostly due to sheer adrenaline.

...Hah. Prowler and Spiderwoman holding hands. Had that ever happened in another universe before?

He was definitely gonna be sore and bruised after this, but at least the armoured suit meant that nothing was broken. Worth it.

“Y’know, a friend of mine would have come here without a plan.”

Was she referring to him? That was so rude.

...Did that mean she still thought of him as a friend, even after everything?

"Oh, I have a plan," Miles asserted with affected flippancy, distractedly tapping in coordinates on his stolen watch and wondering why the hell it kept throwing up an error message.

The stupid thing had been working fine like ten minutes ago - was the signal getting blocked somehow? Did these watches use satellite reception? Bluetooth? He had no damned idea, but the lack of portal-opening was a real problem. He'd kind of been relying on that as his foolproof swift exit strategy.

"...Well. Okay. I have a new plan."

The new plan was admittedly a work in progress. So far it amounted to keep moving and improvise. He'd work it out as he went.

“So, what’s the scoop? Is this a kidnapping? A murder-for-hire? Oh- oh! I’ve got it. You’re the weird guy that’s been sending me letters.”

Miles shot her a disbelieving look.

"Wait - someone's been sending you letters?"

By the sounds of it, they hadn't been nice letters.

...Was this a universe where Spiderwoman got hatemail? Where she wasn't surprised by the idea that someone would be sent to kill her even when she was locked away in prison? Miles was really starting to get the impression that his friend wasn't the beloved city icon that he and Peter had been back home.

"Anyway - it's hardly kidnapping if you're choosing to come with me," he pointed out,

Miles sent another blast of compressed air at the approaching guards, deflecting the taser wire cartridges being fired their way, and dove back down to the lower landing, hoping his feint had bought them enough space to try their luck with one of the sets of double doors.

Maybe if they could escape into a different wing, he stop this group of guards from following somehow. It would be nice to shave off some pursuers in this veritable ants' nest he'd just kicked.

"Look - I know you don't have any reason to trust me. I know I’m not," An odd lump was forming in his throat as he spoke, "I'm not like you. But that doesn't mean I want to be like them," Miles jerked a thumb in the direction of the prisoners booing and heckling them from their cells to emphasis his point.

He shoved one of his stolen keys into the door lock as soon as he reached it.

Wrong one.

"Not all Prowlers are bad guys, y'know."

He tried another key. Nope. Third time lucky?

"Some of us just - just wanted to protect the people we loved."

He felt the door finally unlock; fourth time lucky. Whatever, he'd take it.

"Some of us didn't have any other choice." The Prowler's boot kicked the door open with more force than was strictly necessary, as if to compensate for the raw note of emotion that had filtered through the voice distorter.

Shit, Miles, dial down the method acting and pull yourself together.

When he slammed the doors shut behind them and turned face Gwen, the LED eyes of his mask were narrowed to slits.

"But you do. So don't throw that shit away."

She might have been kicked out of the super elite club Miguel had founded, but she was still Spiderwoman. She could still make a difference, make her world a better place, fight back.

"You got your webs, right? Jam these doors up."

There would be more prison guards flocking to their location from across the facility, of course, and possibly reinforcements being called in, but this would hopefully reduce their odds of getting pincered and surrounded.

@ghost--rocker

🕷️ I'mma Do My Own Thing 🕷️

The noise was constant. 

This place- the place where the cops shoved all the bad guys and threw away the key- served as a perpetual reminder of everything. Everyone hated Spider Woman here. The cops. The people behind bars. Even the general public seemed to be conflicted. 

If my Peter was still here, none of this would have happened. Gwen thought to herself miserably. 

It hadn’t taken long for Captain Stacy to palm her off to a fresh-faced set of recruits. He’d hardly been able to look his daughter in the eye. Did he even consider her as his daughter any more? If he’d seen how the awful event had unfolded… if she’d just chosen the right words to explain it all, maybe he’d have understood. But he didn’t. Now he was gone. And so was everyone else. 

There was a stranger in the bookings booth, clicking the tip of his pen anxiously as his gaze flitted to the form in his hand for guidance before looking back to Gwen. 

“Any gang affiliations?”

“Oh, yeah. I can control spiders.” Gwen riposted flatly, fixing the booking officer with an unwavering stare. The young man hesitated for a moment, before scribbling a note on his form for good measure. 

“Anyone that might wanna hurt you in there?”

“Only all the guys I helped you arrest.” And maybe my dad, Gwen thought to herself bitterly. 

More scribbling. 

“Medical history?” 

“A spider bit me, this one time.” 

The officer’s head dipped back to his form. Gwen was certain the last word written was followed by a question mark. 

“Emergency contact?”

“Captain George Stacy.” 

–

The noise was constant. 

But the thing about constant noise was that you grew used to how it sounded. You learned what The Vulture sounded like when he snored across the hall. You could tune out Screwball babbling to a brick he’d etched a face into. You didn’t flinch whenever you heard the Jackal having another one of his laughing episodes. So when the pitch of noise shifted, so did everyone in their cell. 

An alarm was sounding somewhere in a distant hall. From the back of her cell, Gwen listened. This was a dangerous prison with a bunch of bad guys in it. There were a million reasons an alarm could be going off. Burned toast. Someone accidentally let two guys that hate each other out of their cells at the same time. Someone attacking a guard. These things happened a lot, and they weren’t worth watching. Everyone watched everyone in here. And the thing about watching, was that you were never the only one doing it. It was only a matter of time before someone started watching back. 

Gwen had learned to ignore the perpetual sense of danger. Everyone in here knew who she was- who Spider Woman was. So what? Everyone that mattered wanted nothing left to do with Spider Woman, anyway. The longer she stewed on it, the more it started to feel like they were all right. Peter, Miles, her dad, Miguel, Jess…intentional or not, it always went wrong. Maybe that was just how Gwen Stacy’s canon was always supposed to go. 

A chorus of whooping started to build from outside. That was…unusual. Was someone important paying a visit? A sudden pool of dread began to build in Gwen’s stomach at the thought of Captain Stacy finally braving the sight of his daughter behind bars for some kind of conversation. There was nowhere to run here. There were only so many useless items to toss or pretend to busy herself with to avoid looking at him.

The dread didn’t budge, but the tingling sense that often preempted their interactions was weirdly absent. 

Okay, so the commotion outside was safe. Nothing to do with her. 

Just stay away from the door and don’t draw attention to yourself. No biggie. 

The shape of someone moved from outside, blocking some of the light filtering into the cell. Stubbornly, Gwen remained on her bunk, forcing her gaze to stick to the ceiling. 

…Nothing. 

A defensive hint of tension began to creep into Gwen’s shoulders. Was this guy trying to look in? Had he been gawking at the people in all the other cells too?

“You know, you can go to prison for that.” Gwen remarked wryly before getting up to shoot her very best ‘screw off’ glare towards–

The Prowler?

…Oh. Well this was awkward. 

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.” The spider remarked mildly in spite of the muscle memory that neatened her stance into something poised and ready.

((Starter for @a-punk-arachnid ))

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 9

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language + mentions of sensitive topics Warnings: Referenced past abuse. Does not go into detail. Notes: Longest Serenade chapter yet at 4k+ words! Bit of angst, majority is fluffy fluffer fluff though. Next chapter is maximum h*rny, with two versions depending on reader, uh, equipment. EDIT: Forgot to put title, like dumbass. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato

Chapter 9: Berceuse

(Berceuse: A lullaby. Generally slow and undulating.)

One moment you’re playing the piano, lovingly demonstrating a song you’d like Daniela to learn, the next you’re blue screening as she places a teasing kiss to your neck. It takes all of your willpower to keep playing, improvising a way to end the song right then and there. Then you’re turning to Daniela, eyes wide, blushing hard. She’s giggling. When she regains her composure, you give her a confused expression.

“I’m pretty sure this is the first time you’ve made real eye contact with me all morning. What gives?” She asked, frowning slightly. Awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck, you avoid her gaze, doing little else than proving her point. This frustrates her, and she lets out an aggravated sigh. I should probably tell her what happened, you think, dreading the idea. Still, the two of you had been making an effort to communicate better. What kind of partner would you be if you didn’t tell her about her mother’s intervention?

“Okay, okay… I wasn’t sure how to bring this up, but if I’m being this obvious about it anyway…” You started, trailing off anxiously. In response, Daniela places one of her hands over yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Though your face somehow gets even redder, the action gives you the courage required to continue. “I had another progress update meeting with your mother yesterday. I was worried, since this was the first one where you weren’t present, but I didn’t- I mean, er… Fuck it, she knows you’re interested in me. Doesn’t think we’re already together, thank God, but she told me, and I quote, that my response should be ‘swift and uninterested’. What are-” before you can finish you’re cut off by a loud groan, followed by your girlfriend cradling her head in her hands. Yeah, you think, this is about what I expected.

“Of course she did! I can’t have anything nice,” Daniela snapped, having gone from ten to sixty real quick. You’re just glad that she wasn’t taking it out on the piano. “How would she even know about us? I only stare at you when she’s not looking!” Oh? Since when did she stare at you? Certainly if Lady Dimitrescu had noticed, you would have as well?... Then again, the few times where all three of you were in the same room usually involved you working while they chatted or ate together. Still, the idea of Daniela making heart eyes at you from across the room was enough to make you blush again. “Look, she’s probably making some assumptions. There’s no way she knows as much as she thinks she does, at least not about us. So let’s just be careful- ugh, I sound like Bela- and otherwise keep doing what we do. Alright, songbird?”

“If you’re sure, then so am I. Let’s try to focus on our lesson for now, though,” you replied, doing your best to sound confident. Hoping to add in a little reassurance, you give Daniela a quick peck on the cheek. Unsurprisingly she ‘dodges’, instead kissing you on the lips, but you hardly mind at all. When she pulls back she’s got a huge grin on her face.

“Lesson now, fun later, got it. Speaking of later… You and me, inside the library, right after lunch. I’ll tell mother we’re going over theory and key recognition, but really-” she leans in close, mouth barely an inch from your ear “it’s a date. Don’t worry about getting caught, I’ve already made sure that neither Bela nor Cassandra will interrupt.” Your heart skipped a few beats at her suggestion, and you had to admit… you were beyond excited for this. When was the last time you had gone on an actual date? Years ago, just a month before you left your hometown and moved to the village. That had been a date you’d spend the rest of your life regretting… then again, it was what made you leave in the first place. And if you hadn’t left, you’d have never met Daniela.

Maybe it hadn’t been that bad after all.

————————————

Four minutes past one in the morning, you shuffled nervously towards the library, with note cards in hand. Even if you weren’t really going to help Daniela study, you wanted to be prepared in case you bumped into anyone along the way. After all, this was the night shift, when most of the servants were up and about, accomplishing any tasks deemed ‘too noisy’ to be done while the manor occupants slept. Thankfully, the fact that lunch had just finished meant a fair amount of workers would be busy cleaning up the dining hall. In the end, you only passed one other servant, but it was the only one you hadn’t felt confident about running into: Daphne.

Despite your long-standing friendship (having known each other in the village, and being brought to the castle within the same week), you had yet to tell her about your relationship with Daniela. Which by itself wouldn’t have been too bad, if not for the fact that she could tell you were hiding something from her. This had, understandably, put a damper on your friendship. From her perspective, there was nothing you shouldn’t be able to tell her. Even you weren’t sure if you should be more honest, all things considered. There was no way she’d ever tell someone else about your situation. But if one day you got in trouble for lying to Lady Dimitrescu… and somehow someone figured out that Daphne knew too, well, she’d be just as fucked as you, if not more so. After all, there was a chance that Daniela’s affection for you would lead to a lighter punishment. Not that being exiled into the forest was much better than being flat out killed.

So when you saw Daphne heading towards you, you tried to get by with a simple smile and a brief wave.

“Aren’t you even going to say hi?” Daphne asked, tone stiff but filled with disappointment. It catches you off guard, to the point where you drop your note cards. Immediately you’re squatting down, gathering them up, taking the excuse not to look at your friend. She doesn’t move to assist, instead pausing in the hallway to watch you. “We were supposed to stick together, you know? But it’s like becoming Lady Daniela’s little plaything made you think you’re better than the rest of us. Better than me.” That last part was barely more than a whisper, and you freeze in place, hand still hovering over one of the cards. “I shouldn’t have said anything, it doesn’t matter. Just try not to get yourself killed, alright? I don’t want to be the one to clean up your corpse.”

“Daphne, wait, please!” You said, finally moving to your feet, blocking your friend’s path. When she looks at you, you can just barely make out tears in the corners of her soft blue eyes. “I’m sorry, really. I… I can’t tell you what’s going on because I can’t risk getting you in trouble. You’re my best friend, Daph, and I don’t want anything happening to you just because I was doing something reckless.”

“Do you really think I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you?” Daphne questioned, with a bitter laugh. She’s shaking her head in disbelief, even as you stare at her, shell shocked. “Maybe the others haven’t caught on yet, but I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and I’m not oblivious to the way you talk about her. I figured you’d tell me eventually… It’s been weeks, though. More than that, I mean seriously, don’t you think I’d go down for you in a heartbeat? There was a time where I was sure the two of us would do anything for each other, ride or die when the dying part was a guaranteed end to all of this. Something tells me that’s not the case anymore.” Now she refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at what few note cards still lay on the floor.

“That’s still the case, I promise. It’s hard enough to look past what our employers do to strangers. If they hurt you? I’d never dream of forgetting, let alone forgiving them,” you explained. It’s enough to make her look back up, but she’s far from smiling.

“If that’s the case, maybe I’m looking at the wrong signals. But I’ve got to go, and I assume you do too. Take care,” she said, before slipping past you as quickly as she can. Then you’re left to gather the last of your note cards, mind whirling. Cruel as the thought may be, you hoped that this wouldn’t ruin the mood for your date. The best your mind could do to cope was focus on one thing at a time…

————————————

“Are you sure this is safe? I can’t even remember how many times I’ve been told to keep this door shut, under the threat of, you know, losing my life,” you called out, hanging out in the doorway. Beyond you by a few meters was Daniela, who twirled about with laughter, reaching out to catch a few falling leaves. This was the entrance to the garden, as far as you could tell. Not to be confused with the vineyard, which was larger, as well as on a completely different side of the estate. You had never been to either, seeing as only a select few servants were allowed to leave the manor. If Daniela hadn’t made it seem like you’d be staying in the library, well, you probably would have protested a little, regardless of how badly you wanted to go on a real date. Even when you had met up with her, she hadn’t told you any details, just laughing and asking you to follow her.

“Don’t be a baby! We’re still a few weeks away from autumn, and besides, you’re here with me! What could possibly go wrong?” Daniela asked, sending you a cheeky grin before dashing off into the garden proper. For a moment you’re left on the threshold, a picnic basket in your arms, wondering what the season had to do with your safety. Then you sigh, figuring that it couldn’t be that bad. Hadn’t your girlfriend mentioned this to Bela, anyway? Certainly the responsible older sister would have stepped in if something genuinely dangerous had been suggested? Well, you hoped as much, at least. With that in mind you close the door behind you, then dashed towards where Daniela had gone. Even as you round the corner, you don’t see her, and suddenly you’re nervous as hell. Before you can call out to her, the sound of rustling leaves catches your attention. Suddenly something jumps out at you! “Rah! Gotcha, babe!”

Ah, of course it was your girlfriend, clearly pulling a leaf from Cassandra’s book. You playfully smack her arm in response, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded. Humorous intentions aside, she had legitimately scared you, and you had nearly dropped your basket in response. Before you can say as much, Daniela’s hooking her arm in yours so she can pull you further into the gardens.

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute, firefly,” you muttered, a tad grumpy now. Most of your irritation was false, however, intended to tease your girlfriend. For a moment she doesn’t seem to realize that, and she stops in place. Once her eyes meet yours she understands what’s going on. Then she’s grinning, sticking her tongue out at you, and continuing down the path. Soon enough you’re approaching a paved brick circle. All around it, minus where it meets the walkway, are various flowers in bloom. Past the flowers are bushes, and past those are trees, whose branches provide a canopy for the circle. “Wow… and I thought you were pretty,” you teased, admiring the view.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Daniela lets out an offended scoff, before taking the basket from you. Wordlessly she opens it up to grab the blankets within, spreading them without sparing you a glance. Now it’s your turn to wonder whether or not her anger is just a joke. Hoping so, you help her smooth out the blankets, making sure the two of you have ample space to spread out. At one point both of you reach for the basket at the same time, and she just grabs your hand instead, squeezing it. Next thing you know she’s pulling you down onto the blankets, rolling on top of you.

“Come here often?” She asked. Then, unsurprisingly, the two of you kiss. Both of your arms wrap around her waist, holding her as close as you can. One of her hands cups your cheek, the other resting on the ground to support herself, for ‘optimal makeout angles’. It’s a minute of bliss before she has to pull back for air. Instead of pulling away entirely, she shifts down a notch, resting her head against your chest. “Mmm… so comfortable. I could just… fall… asleep…” Daniela murmured, pretending to be sleepy. You can’t help but laugh, chest obviously shaking in as you do. “No! Pillows aren’t supposed to vibrate.”

“Are you sure about that?” You asked, only laughing harder.

“They don’t talk, either,” Daniela replied, huffing as she does. When you keep laughing, she rises to a sitting position, much to your disappointment. “So you have chosen death? So be it. I’ll just eat these candies myself, then.” With that said, she digs into the picnic basket, retrieving a bag of chocolates. Pouting, you reach out to try and yoink one away from her. Rather deftly, she pulls them away, sticking her tongue out at you before tossing a couple in her mouth. Determined, you surge forward, trying to catch her off guard, only to (somehow) end up face down in her lap. “Exactly like I planned, songbird. Now get comfy, alright?”

One of her hands trails fingers through your hair as you semi-awkwardly roll over. Now you’re facing up, watching your girlfriend practically inhale a few pieces of chocolate. But now she seems more inclined to share. She plucks one more from the bag, offering it to you by holding it in front of your mouth. Gladly you open up, and she drops the chocolate, before giving you a small ‘boop’ on the nose. Both of you laugh, then, a sound that sparks warmth in your chest. This was… nice. Relaxing. Not only were the two of you allowed to be as open with your affection as you wanted, it was the first time in ages that you had actually been outside, able to enjoy the sunlight.

Several minutes pass by like this, with Daniela feeding you (and herself) candies, both of you taking time to appreciate the scenery. Eventually the bag of chocolates becomes close to empty, and you see your girlfriend have an ‘oh crap’ moment.

“I was going to save some of these for you to smuggle into your quarters, damn it… guess you’ll just have to refuse to share, babe,” she said, shrugging a little. Then she sets the bag aside, now devoting both of her hands to playing with your hair. “Guess I’ll just have to find something else to keep my tongue occupied. Know any volunteers?”

“Hmm… I would, but it’s reeeaaaaaallllllly comfortable down here,” you teased in reply. Suddenly her hands are taken out of your hair, and you can just barely see that they’re positioned on her hips. She’s pouting at you, very similar to how you’ve seen her mother do, yellow eyes betraying her mischief. What exactly did she have planned?

“Really, songbird? I take you out, give you a wonderful place to rest, hand feed you chocolates… and you won’t even kiss me? When was the last time you even got to do something like this?” She asked, perking an eyebrow. The question is innocent enough. The answer, however, is not. Even with your head in her lap, you cannot fight off the brief sense of panic as your mind flashes into the past. It takes a deep breath, a few blinks, and a reassuring touch from Daniela for you to calm back down. “Songbird?... Hey, hey, it’s okay, I didn’t- I don’t know what happened. But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, we can just…” She trails off, sounding unsure of herself, and you feel a pang of guilt. Was it finally time to come clean?... Yeah, yeah it was.

“It’s fine, I promise. I just… I need to sit up for this,” you explained, begrudgingly rising out of her lap. But she doesn’t let you pull away entirely, a hand guiding you to sit right up against her. Then she gently wraps an arm around you. Leaning into her touch, you rest your head on her shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “It’s kind of a long story, firefly… But this has happened often enough that I need to tell you. At least part of it. So, well… When I was younger, I, uh, I read a lot of romance novels, watched a lot of movies. Not even the good ones, really. And I didn’t- I couldn’t think through them. Couldn’t analyze it the way I needed to. So I didn’t get a good grasp of what a healthy relationship looked like. My, uh, my folks weren’t keen on demonstrating one for me, either…

“Before I came to the village, I was, well, uh, the thing is you might not like this part? And you’re not gonna like the next part, either. Just… listen to the end, please,” you pleaded, waiting for an acknowledgment before continuing. “I was engaged, as in to be married, to a woman I had known for most of my life. We were neighbors, and had gone to school together, and everyone thought we were the cutest couple. Hell, for the longest time I thought that. We weren’t, though. She was-” Daniela tenses a bit, though remains silent- “manipulative, sometimes aggressive. Anytime there was an argument, she made herself into the victim, told me that I was crazy. She wanted to make all the decisions about our relationship for me, and I just… I didn’t question it. Not even after she proposed, when my only reason for saying yes was because we were in public, with friends, and she clearly assumed that I’d agree. I tried to tell her that I wasn’t ready, that maybe we were going too fast, but she tuned me out.

“I didn’t even think about running until our final date. That was the first, and the only, time that she ever… that she ever-” a few tears spill from the corners of your eyes- “got physical with me. She’d broken things before, for sure, but I never thought she’d hurt me.” Daniela rubs your back gently, her breathing a little shaky. Evidently she hated hearing about this as much as you hated talking about it. Somehow that made it a little easier to talk through. “The next day she had to work early, so I just packed up my things, went over to my parents’ house and told them what happened. For once they actually agreed, if you can believe it. Told me to get the hell out of town, said that they’d deal with my fiance, and our relatives, so that I didn’t have to worry about anything when I came back. It was less than a full day before I drove away from everything I had ever known, promising my folks that someday I’d be back. Didn’t settle down until half the continent was behind me, not ‘til I was here at the village.”

There were a couple moments of silence as Daniela waited to make sure you had finished talking. Then she’s kissing the top of your head, shaking a little more noticeably now, murmuring reassurances that you can’t quite understand. Again you lean into her touch, indescribably thankful for her comforting presence. Fuck, you think, I probably ruined the date… so much for spending quality time with my lil firefly. When the silence breaks, it does so softly, slowly, a careful opening rather than a forceful push.

“Why would you give me a second chance? After what I did to you?” Daniela asked, voice barely audible, her head still resting atop yours. It’s not the response you expected. Not in the slightest. You pull away slightly, to look her in her eyes, heart aching at the tear stains on her cheeks. Even though you want to give her an answer that will bring her peace, your mind draws little more than a blank. Why had you given her a chance? You had wanted to be with her, without doubt, even before Cassandra and Bela intervened. Even after every time that she reminded you of your past…

“I-I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t learned anything from what’s happened,” you started, uncertainty clear in your tone. “Or maybe it’s because you looked… regretful. You didn’t enjoy what you did, and I saw it in your eyes. And… and then you did something about it. If you hadn’t shown remorse, or if I genuinely believed that you might do something like that again, we wouldn’t be here right now. I mean, in that case your sisters probably would have killed me for turning you down, but that’s not entirely relevant right now, is it?” You’re rambling a little, stuttering over your own words. Still, somehow it makes Daniela laugh, and relief floods your chest. Soon enough you’re curled up against her once more.

“Hey,” she said, after a minute of comfortable silence. “Thank you for showing me what romance is supposed to be.” Then she’s leaning in for a kiss, and you’re responding eagerly, unable to stop yourself from smiling. This time it’s your hand that runs through her hair as you pull her in as close as you can. To your surprise, she does pull away a tad earlier than usual. But there’s a grin on her lips, and she looks satisfied as hell. “Definitely more of that, soon. There’s just one more thing we have to do, to make this date perfect, you know? I may or may not have, kind of, written you something? You’re not allowed to laugh, though!”

“When have I ever laughed at you?” You asked, teasing, literally laughing as you speak. In response, Daniela scowls, making a point to look away in feign protest. “Joking, joking… I’ve just, you know, never had someone write me something before. Kinda don’t know how to react, really. Other than blushing real hard-” which you were doing- “and trying to play off my excitement with humor. But I promise I won’t laugh, even if you start with something like ‘roses are red, violets are blue’ or end with something like ‘just us in bed, doing the do’. Please tell me that’s not what you wrote, though?”

“Now that you mention it, maybe that should be what I recite. Sounds exactly like the sort of thing that would get me laid,” Daniela joked, rolling her eyes at you. Then she’s tugging a loose piece of paper out of the picnic basket, unfolding it to reveal a well-worn surface and hand-written text. She hesitates for a moment, glancing up at you, before taking a deep breath. When she speaks it’s clear just how nervous she is. But with every line she gains a measure of confidence, by the end acting her usual confident self.

Step from the shadows, weary corners of my mind Encased in old thoughts, brought into new life Like ashes rising from tombs housing the divine

Spinning webs as I descend, from the cradle of heaven From the dead I have risen, blessed be the gift I’m given Only from your haunting call do I embrace living

Catching the corners of my lips turning up All my years I’ve felt, but never this much Quietly writhing, begging for your softest touch

The pursuit of unintentional romance left abandoned Whispering love-locked tales to be consumed Sweeter than every facade I have ever imagined

Come closer now, into my arms, heart embraced Trailing fingers over scars, sewing lines traced Tell me love, “we shall last until the end of days”

At first, all you can do in response is stare at her, expression filled with affection. Inside your chest your heart was racing, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this warm. Reaching out, you take one of Daniela’s hands in your own, grinning as soon as her gaze meets yours. Both of you are blushing rather hard. Then she sets the poem down, eyes never leaving yours for even a second. You try to stutter out a few words, but find your tongue tied, and so you settle for placing your forehead against hers. The two of you stay like that for a few loving moments. When you part, it is only to come back together, this time in a tight hug.

“One helluva date, yeah?” Daniela asked, looking incredibly proud of herself. You can’t help but nod enthusiastically in response, honestly happier than you had felt in years. “Well, I will have to let you get back to work soon, unfortunately… but we have a few minutes, at least. Besides, having to part will only make tonight all the more sweeter.” At that you pause, confused, tilting your head to the side. Realizing that she must have gotten ahead of herself, Daniela blushes before elaborating. “You, me, my room. Tonight, right after your shift ends.”

You could hardly wait.

[vanillann]

double sided recipe card (pietro maximoff x reader)

a/n: hi, pietro is literally the love of my life so OF COURSE i’d do this!! also request are always open so don’t be scared to send an ask whenever!!

word count: 2.3k

“Has anyone seen Pietro?”

I swung around the kitchen of the compound, walking in to find Clint and Nat in a conversation about who knew what. They both smiled when they saw me but Clint's face dropped slightly when he realized my words.

“Why do you need Roadrunner?” Clint crossed his arm, leaning back on the kitchen island slightly.

“I have his physical and if he wants to go to the mission tomorrow,” I tried off, smiling at Clint when he rolled his eyes.

“I think he’s in Wanda’s room,” Nat pointed over her shoulder, patting my shoulder when I passed her.

I did the lightest jog to the evaluator, finding Wanda’s floor number and smashing the button. The folder played between my fingers, my eyes begging to look but I knew I’d get in trouble if I was caught on camera.

The smallest ding drew me from my stares, informing me I had made it to the correct floor. I skipped out lightly, smiling when I noticed Wanda's door slightly ajar, the slightest bit of laughter spilling out into the hallway. I didn’t think much of him in Wanda’s room, he tended to sit around everyones room beside his own.

I stepped closer to the door, my knuckles ready to knock but I stopped when I noticed a female voice laugh. I looked closer, noticing Pietro sat in front of the T.V. his back turned to me but his knees were pressed to his chest as he stared at the T.V.

“Pietro,” a little bit of a younger Wanda's face smiled from the screen, her giggles sounded the same as they do now as she looked up.

“I’m shocked you didn’t see it coming,” Pietro's voice sounded around the room, the entire video was starting to catch up. Wanda mentioned she had a few older home videos in her room, she didn’t watch them but she never had to heart to watch them.

“I’ll kill you.”

Pietro suddenly slammed his hand on the remote, doing his best to make the video stop but the laughter never stopped. He held in the air, ready to throw it at the T.V. before my feet took off. I don’t know how I made it to his side so fast, my hand wrapping around the remote as I placed my other hand on his back.

“Hey,” my voice was soft as I got his hand to fall, he looked shocked for a second and I realized he probably was upset. I was watching but that didn’t matter as he curled closer to me. His hands pulled at the overshirt hoodie that clung to my frame, his face pulling closer.

He didn’t cry, just took angry breaths and held himself closer to me. By the time dinner rolled around he had drifted off, his hands lose on my shirt as I played with the edge of the folder.

“Piet-” Wanda knocked lightly on the door, a little smile on her face before she spotted us on the floor.

“Hey Wanda,” I spoke softly, trying to get his hand off so I could speak away from my ear, making sure I didn’t wake him. Wanda waited a second, most likely reading my mind for a second before she gave a sad smile.

“The home video?”

I just nodded, following her from her own room to the kitchen, where I could smell the food flooding the building.

“He does alot of bottling up, with the anniversary of mother birth-” Wanda trailed off, upset as she spoke about her poor mother.

“When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow,” Wanda shrugged, both of us stepping foot in the elevator.

“During the mission? I’m so sorry, I can lie to Tony and tell him you aren’t clear-”

“Don’t worry about it (Y/N), it’ll be good not to think about it.” Wanda smiled lightly, looping her arm in mine as she leaned on me slightly.

“Thank you, for being there for him.

“Of course, you know I care about you both.” The door slid open, the smell even stronger as we heard Steve’s laugh fill the compound.

“Care isn’t the word I’d use,” her accent was thicker as she rolled her eyes at me, the hint of a smirk on her lips as we walked closer to the kitchen. I pinched her side, laughing when she jumped slightly.

Once we made it to the kitchen the smell well smashed into my system, walking over to look down at the soup that was lightly boiling.

“It’s a Saliva meal,” Wanda handed me a bowl, holding one in her own hand while she waited for me to hurry up.

“Should I wake Pietro? He wouldn’t want to miss this-“

“I’ll make it again, for now he should rest.” Wanda held my arm, smiling at my concern for her brother as I gently picked up the ladle and became pouring my own soup in the bowl. I watched the light brown broth pour into the bowl and suddenly I knew exactly what I had to do.

“Wanda, would you leave the recipe card out for this?”

I stumbled into the kitchen, the reusable bag full of different ingredients practically falling from the bag.

“Aren’t you glad you aren’t an Avenger,” I heard Pepper’s soft voice from behind me, her giggles coming from the doorway. I only shrugged, looking down gloomy as the ingredients that sat over the island.

“What are you making?” I felt her presence beside me now, looking over the food beside me. I didn’t say a word, holding up the recipe card Wanda had thankfully left out.

“This is what we had last night,” Pepper noticed, looking at the side of my face with the smallest smirk ever across it.

“I’m making it for Pietro for when they get back, he didn’t get any last night.”

Pepper bumped my shoulder, my eyes rolling in the back of my head before I reached for a tomato. I let it roll around in my hand a few times, looking down at the card Pepper had placed back down.

“You don’t know what you're doing?”

“Nope,” I popped the “p”, walking around the island to grab one of the pots and filling it up with water. I placed it on the stove, staring at it for a little bit as if waiting for something to happen.

“Would you like help?”

I probably should say yes, I was trying to make this soup when I should barely make a bowl of cereal. Maybe soup was one of the easier foods to make but I would spend half the time as a few words still in Russian on the card.

“I’ve got it don’t worry,” I brushed her off, simply because I was hoping if I could pull this off alone he would be proud of me. I was hoping he’d make a smartass comment with that little smirk and mention that I did a great job.

“Okay, let me know if you need help. I’m always happy to do so for you and Wanda, just not Tony.” I laughed slightly at her sarcasm, waving over my shoulder as I heard her light footsteps leave the kitchen.

I finally reached out and turned the burner on, smiling when I heard the small click signaling it was in fact on and ready to begin boiling the water. I turned back to the island, picking at the index card. I assumed it was a family recipe but the handwriting and the older terms were used within the recipe.

As I finally placed the tomato on the cutting board, a large knife in hand I thought things were falling into place.

I was in fact, wrong.

I panicked when I heard the elevator open, hearing a light noise of voices enter the floor. I couldn’t be everyone as they weren't as loud and also with how late it was. Clint wasn’t going to hang around with everyone at 2:12 in the morning.

“Just go in the kitchen,” I heard a light female voice speak, my panic rising as I realized Pietro was in fact home and probably seconds away from walking in the kitchen.

I hid my bandage hand behind my back, trying to block the few things I managed to chop before I attacked my own hand with it by accident.

“Why?” His accent was thick with sleep, which made a little smile dance across my lips. I understood why Nat was teaching them to lose the accent for safety reasons but I loved the way they spoke with it.

“Just do,” I saw the door slightly move, knowing someone was going to walk in soon and part of me panicked. I was more worried about Pepper finding me like this, she would have my head if she saw this and I didn’t let her help.

“Fine fine,” I watched him finally walk into the kitchen, lucky alone, as he looked around it for a second. When his eyes spotted me against the counter he smiled but it quickly fell when he spotted the mess behind me.

“(Y/N)?”

“Pietro?” I spoke with nerves. my body on high alert.

“What’s this?” He looked down at the island, his eyes spotting the recipe card I had forgotten to put away. His finger picked it up, a sad smile on his lips before he even read the words on the card.

“My mothers,” his voice sounded far away, as if for a second he was back home before the bomb, before they lost everything but each other.

“Wanda let me use it,” I pointed with my unharmed hand, trying my best to make him comfortable with the conversation.

“She told you?”

“Just a few details,’ I brushed off, my eyes suddenly looking everywhere but him as I wanted to leave the kitchen and run into my own room. I had already ruined the meal, let's not ruin a whole friendship.

“You told me you couldn’t cook?”

I laughed at the memory, I completely forgot about the time I told him about Bruce’s birthday. Thor and I thought making a cake was a great idea but it ended up with a weird green blob. I was much younger then sure, but it definitely showed my abilities with making any sort of food.

“You remember that story?”

“I remember all your stories, as you do mine.” I finally stopped looking at the floor, looking up at him as he titled his head at me. His arms were crossed on the island but his under eye bags stood out against the harsh light of the kitchen. The natural light was long gone and it was only the moon that bought light from the outside.

“You should probably get to bed,” I wasn’t thinking straight as I walked forward and lightly pushed open the door for him. I high when my fresh cut hand hit the wooden door slightly too hard.

Even as tired as he was, Pietro was at my side in milliseconds, looking over my hand with the awkward bandage across it.

“What did you do?” I ignored the little pet name, trying to pull my hand from his grip.

“I’m really bad at cutting potatoes,” I shrugged, the awkward smile making its way across my lips. He said nothing, looking up at me with a disapproving look.

“You must be more careful,” he looked at it a little longer but eventually let my hand fall to my side as he smiled slightly at me.

The silence felt like it lasted forever, like it would never end, but it eventually did when he spoke.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t exactly make it,” I pointed to the brown sad water with nothing else in it. I didn’t make it far before things started going bad. Pietro frowned at me, speeding around the kitchen quickly before he stood in front of me.

A bowl was held in his hand, the brown water now had a few of the vegetables floating around in it, it looked much better but still not what Wanda made last night.

“I don’t know what you mean, I have it right here.” He held a spoonful up, taking a wide bite. I could tell it wasn’t what he thought but he didn’t look like he was going to be sick.

“It’s not your mothers recipe,” I looked up at him, trying my best not a smile at his little pout every time I said something.

“No, it’s your own.” He placed the bowl down, flipping the index card around and grabbing a pen that stayed in the kitchen for any reason. I panicked when I saw him start writing on it, my hand shooting out to stop him but he just quickly moved to the otherside of the island.

“That was your mother Pietro!”

“Now it’s your and my mothers! Two of my favorites on one card, don’t tell Wanda that,” he pointed at me with the last part, his smirk painted across his face making me feel little butterflies in my stomach.

I watched him write my name across the top with the ingredients he saw I had used. Once he was down he slid it across the table, smiling when I laughed at the title.

“(Y/N)’s Happy Mistake.”

“Yes, it’s my personal favorite,” he smiled, my own growing wider as the seconds went on with his looking at me like that.

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you, for everything,” he walked slowly, for the first time, around the island. He leaned beside me, his arm touching my own. I let my head rest there, smiling when I felt him leave a gentle kiss on my crown.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything Pietro,” I felt myself lean closer to him. I knew we would have to talk about this feeling in the morning, but we were both too tired to care for now.

“There aren’t any potatoes in my mothers’ soup.”

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[sfb123]

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 1

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late? 

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 1,496

A/N: So, I did a thing. This started as a one shot that I half wrote like a month ago and gave up on. Then I got haunted by Whitney Houston (and later, when she got sick of bugging me, she moved on to @jessiembruno, I’m assuming to send her to harass me about finishing). This week, inspiration struck and I finished it...and it became a mini-series. So look forward to this over the next 4 Wednesdays. 

A couple of quick shout outs I wanted to get out there: @callmeellabella, thank you for being so sweet and taking a look at the snippet I provided. @queenrileyrose, thank you for taking the time to chat with me, I hope the story lives up to the hype I gave it. 

A not so quick shout out to @jessiembruno, I pretty much annoyed you every step of the way in writing this one, sharing screenshots, and letting you know every time that damn song showed up in my life. Your notes when you read it for me gave me so much encouragement, you were invaluable in helping me get through that last emotional push at the end. Hell, you even titled the thing! I don’t know why we hurt Liam the way we do, but I know in the end, we’ll always give him a happy ending (wait...not like that...well, maybe sometimes like that). 

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know! 

Riley sat on the rooftop overlooking New York City, Maxwell rattling off the different images he saw in the stars as she got lost in her thoughts. They were in New York as the last leg of Liam and Madeleine’s engagement tour. Soon, they would be going back to Cordonia where she would be expected to sit in a cathedral and watch the love of her life marry another woman. 

They had been investigating the scandal that came out at the coronation for weeks, and didn’t seem to be any closer to finding Tariq. As the time ran out, Riley’s hope of a cleared name faded further and further away. Could she really go back there and watch another woman steal her happily ever after? She was already in New York, it would be easy to just stay and try to start her life back up again. Honestly, if she wasn’t going back there to marry Liam, what was the point of going back at all? Sure, she had made a couple of great friends, but there were a million and one ways for them to stay in touch. Or ghost them, to avoid hearing about Liam and his wife. She wasn’t quite sure which option she would choose once all was said and done.    

She weighed out the pros and cons, and finally decided that she would not be returning to Cordonia with the rest of the court. But she wasn’t going to tell anyone, she wasn’t going to give them the opportunity to team up on her and talk her into going back. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Liam, he had already talked her into being the other woman for this entire tour, a moniker she swore she would never take on in her lifetime. She knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to him, and would be convinced to come back to Cordonia and be miserable. She would do it tonight, once they returned to the hotel, she would get her things together, and sneak out while everyone else slept. Daniel had an extra room, conveniently, he was using it to store the stuff she didn’t bring with her when Maxwell whisked her away. 

“Earth to Riley. Are you even listening? I’m dropping some of my A+ material right now.” Maxwell waved his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry Max, I was just thinking. Must have zoned out a little.”

“It’s ok, I get it. There’s a lot going on right now.” He replied empathetically, suddenly jumping to his feet in excitement. “I know, let’s go out!”

“We are out.” She looked up at him.

“No, not boring UN Gala out. Fun out! I’ll grab everyone, the dream team will cheer you up!”

Riley paused to think about it for a second. If she wasn’t going to give her friends a proper goodbye, maybe one last adventure would be the perfect way to remember them. They could do it up big, and then she would start over in the morning. She smiled softly at her friend before responding. “That sounds really nice Maxwell, I’d love to.”

“Yes!” Maxwell raised his fist in the air and pulled her into a hug. “You go back to the hotel and change, I’ll get the gang together and text you where to meet.”

Riley went back to the hotel and put on some more comfortable clothes. Something she would typically wear on a night out in New York. She didn’t want to start packing yet, in case Maxwell offered to walk her back to her room. She reached out to Daniel to make sure she could stay with him. Of course he said yes, while also trying to get the details. She promised to fill him in on everything when she got there. The more she thought about her plan, the more she started to worry. Maxwell said he was going to get everyone together. Did that mean Liam would be there? Would she be able to keep herself composed, and keep her secret, knowing that this would be the last time she would ever see him? She started second guessing her plan, she should have just left. Tonight was going to suck. 

She entered the bar, and immediately noticed Maxwell, Drake, and Hana in a corner booth. No Liam. She took a deep breath and approached them. “Hey guys!” She put on her cheeriest face. 

“Thank God, Brooks. Maxwell can harass you now.” Drake rolled his eyes and patted the seat next to him. 

Riley slid into the booth and put her arm around Drake, giving him a side hug. “Aww, poor Drakey. I’ll save you from big bad Maxwell.” Hana and Maxwell laughed, and Drake rolled his eyes. “So Maxwell, why this place? You know I’ve lived here for like ever, I could have picked.”

“No, this is your cheer up night, so I needed to find the perfect place, and this is it.” He gestured to the stage. “It’s karaoke night!” 

“So, if this is to cheer me up, and it’s karaoke night, does that mean Drake is going to serenade me?” She turned to face Drake, smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes. 

“Fat chance.” Drake looked at Riley with a stern expression. “I’ll buy you drinks, that’s as cheery as you’re getting from me.”

“Sold!” She put her hand out and shook Drake’s. She signaled for the waitress to come over, and ordered a round of shots for the table, and a drink for herself.  

As the night went on, the group laughed and sang and told stories. Riley was having a great time, and wasn’t letting on in the slightest that this would be the last time they were all together. Maxwell had just come offstage from his third performance of the night, as he walked toward the table, his smile grew and he waved his hand to greet someone. “Liam, you made it!” 

Riley’s breath caught in her throat, and she could swear she felt her heart stop. She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself before standing and turning toward the door to greet him. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.”

Liam’s eyes started to sparkle the second they met hers, his smile lighting up at the sight of her. She looked just as beautiful as she did the night they met, he loved when she was dressed casually. Sure, she was stunning in ballgowns and expensive designer clothes, but this was her. Authentic Riley. The Riley that had captured his heart. “It took me some time to get away, but Maxwell said you needed cheering up, so this is where I need to be right now.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek gently. 

Suddenly, Riley was frozen. She wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say. Everything had been going so smoothly. Why did he have to show up? She couldn’t be there anymore. Not as long as he was. Now that she was faced with the reality of her plan, she didn’t know what she was thinking just leaving Liam without saying goodbye. Without telling him how much he truly meant to her. But she also knew she couldn’t give him a chance to talk her out of it. She decided she would use this opportunity to sing her feelings. 

“I have to go. It’s my turn to sing.” She turned away from Liam abruptly, pulling the shot glass out of Drake’s hands before it could reach his lips, bringing it to hers and throwing her head back. With that, she walked to the front of the bar.

After a quick conversation with the DJ, she walked to the microphone and looked down. As the music started, she looked up and locked eyes with Liam. She proceeded to sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ while keeping her eyes locked on his. Their friends looked back and forth between the two of them, seeing the pain in both of their expressions. As the songs continued, Riley was finding it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check. She started to avoid Liam’s gaze, only glancing up at him occasionally. To most of the room, it sounded like she was leaning heavily on her vibrato, but her friends all knew that was her emotions getting the best of her. 

Once the song finished, she placed the microphone back on the stand and quickly ducked into the crowd, before any of her friends could catch up to her. She carefully made her way to the door and left the bar. She walked a few blocks before she lost the battle she was fighting with her tears. After taking some time to gather herself, she continued on her way to Daniel’s apartment. There was no way she would be able to go back to the hotel, she’d figure out how to get her stuff later. 

Permatags: @anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @chemist-ana @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam X Riley:

@jared2612​

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[frenchbreads-writing]

Valentine’s Day Dilemma|{Ojiro Mashirao}

My amazing tradition of doing things late has struck again!!

I’m sorry I haven’t posted anything in literally forever but writer’s block has been kicking my ass lately but I’m starting to get back into it again so that’s good.

Also, it’s my one year anniversary since I started my first writing account!!!! Thank all of you who are here and support my content I love y’all so much!!!!

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Ojiro Mashirao x Male Reader

Words: 1.6k (1,615)

Warning(s): None

Requests: Closed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Another love letter.’

Ojiro thought as he watched another girl confess to you.

He couldn’t understand you. You were insanely good-looking, charming, and nice you could have anyone you wanted.

You smiled apologetically and returned the letter to the girl saying something Ojiro couldn’t make out.

The girl looked dejected and sauntered off.

You could have anyone you wanted yet you always rejected anyone who has ever confessed. No matter how good-looking or cool they were.

“You know, you could always ask him out instead of watching him like a creep.”

Ojiro jumped and turned around to see Dark Shadow hovering next to him.

“W-what? I’m not-“

Dark Shadow moved closer to him and poked him in his chest.

“Yes you were, you were staring at (y/n) with big ol’ googly eyes.”

Before Dark Shadow could continue Tokoyami’s voice rang out from behind them.

“Dark shadow, leave him alone.”

Tokoyami walks up and swatted Dark Shadow on his beak.

Dark Shadow stuck his tongue out before disappearing into Tokoyami’s side.

“T-thank you Tokoyami.”

Tokoyami nodded at him.

“You’re welcome.”

He paused for a moment.

“Dark shadow is right though, you should confess to (Y/n).”

Ojiro choked on his saliva at his words face becoming beet red.

“W-what?! I don’t like him like that!”

“Oh really?”

“Yes!”

Tokoyami raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms.

“Every time he walks in the room you stare at him the whole time and every time the two of you talk you seem like you’re a moment away from passing out.”

Ojiro froze and his tail came up and covered his face.

“B-be quiet.”

Tokoyami chuckled.

Before the bird-headed boy could tease him any further the bell rang signaling the start of class.

“Just think about it.”

Tokoyami said before walking over to his seat.

And that’s what Ojiro did for the past week.

He’s entertained the idea of confessing ever since he realized his crush.

But ultimately, he always convinced himself that you’re far above him on the social ladder and you wouldn’t settle for someone as plain as him.

But this time he looked at you while Aizawa droned on about his lesson. You were quietly snickering as you passed notes back and forth with Kirishima.

As he stared suddenly you turned around to face him.

He jumped, startled at the sudden attention. The sound of a yelp from behind him snapped him out of his daze. He turned to see Kaminari’s school supplies scattered on the floor. Ojiro’s tail resting on his table.

He stuttered out an apology and moved his tail away.

A chuckle made Ojiro look up.

You were laughing at the scene.

Ojiro covered his face with his hands and faced the board, face burning with embarrassment.

During hero practice he watched you. You were practically made to be a hero, gracefully getting through obstacles and completing challenges.

But you also looked out for your classmates. congratulating them when they succeeded and encouraging them when they failed.

You were amazing.

After class, Ojiro walked up to Tokoyami.

“Okay, I’ll do it how do I confess?”

The following days were spent with Ojiro and Tokoyami brainstorming ideas.

Ojiro walked up to the school almost an hour early. It was Valentine’s Day, the perfect opportunity to confess, even if he would be rejected.

When he walked through the school gates he saw you standing at your shoe locker fiddling with the handle.

He went to his locker and watched when you opened the door around 10 pink envelopes fell out with about 30 still crammed into the small space.

You just sighed and picked up the fallen ones before scooping the rest of the letters into your hands, you then proceeded to toss the letters into the trash, put on your shoes, and walk away.

The letter in Ojiro’s pocket suddenly felt heavy.

He took it out and stared at it before crumbling it up and shoving it in his bag.

Throughout the rest of the day, he watched as you got letters and chocolates from random people, boys, and girls alike.

Each one you politely declined.

All of them walked away dejected, clutching their gifts to their chests, and some even cried.

Ojiro didn’t get nearly as many Valentine’s gifts as a lot of his classmates. Hell, most of them were from his classmates.

Ojiro sighed as stood by the school gate.

He was supposed to meet Tokoyami there to tell him how it went. Tell him how he just couldn’t go through with it.

He stood there moping until he heard squealing from behind him.

He turned around and gasped as he saw you standing directly in front of him.

“(Y-Y/n)!”

“Hey, Ojiro I was wondering if you had a moment?”

He nodded, his face turning red.

“Well, uh, I wasn’t planning on doing this but Kirishima convinced me.”

You reached into your back pocket and pulled out a card handing it to him blushing and rubbing the back of your neck.

“H-here.”

He took it and looked it over.

It had very clearly been crumpled up and smoothed out.

The words on the front said ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ he blushed and opened the card and there were more words.

At the top, it said ‘Tail me you love me!’

And below that

‘I was wondering if you would like to be my Valentines?’

When he finished his face was bright red.

“S-So?”

Ojirou’s mouth opened but nothing came out, he was too embarrassed.

You looked hurt taking his silence as rejection.

“I-it’s fine if you don’t feel the same, sorry for making you uncomfortable I’ll just be going now.”

You began to make your way past him when Ojiro grabbed you by the arm.

“(Y-Y/n) wait!”

You paused and looked at him.

He shoved his backpack off of his shoulders and riffled through it for a moment before shoving a crumpled ball into your chest.

“This was for you.”

You took the ball and gently unfurled it.

The words on the front were in the same font as yours and opening it revealed the same exact card as yours but on the inside had a lot more words.

You began reading and at the second line, you realized it was a confession letter.

“W-wait, Ojiro you feel the same?”

You looked up clutching the card to your chest tightly, beginning to crease the sides once again.

Ojiro’s tail was wagging behind him as he nodded.

You let out a laugh as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close, and lifting him from the ground.

Ojiro let out an embarrassing noise as he instinctively wrapped his arms around your neck.

“(Y-Y/n) c-can you put me down? People are staring.”

You froze as you looked around and most of your fanboys and girls were staring in disbelief.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

You nervously chuckled as you lowered him back down to his feet.

“So, (Y/n) does this mean we’re dating?”

You blushed and rubbed the back of your neck.

“If you want to, then yeah.”

Ojiro smiled and grabbed your hand. Your hand was a little sweaty but so was his.

The two of you blushed at the gesture.

“S-so we should go on a date right?”

You nodded.

“Yeah, um, are you free right now?”

Ojiro thought for a moment.

“Uh, n-no I have chores to do, how about tomorrow?”

You smiled.

“Sure!”

The two of you stood there for a minute in silence before you cleared your throat.

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Ojiro nodded enthusiastically.

“Y-yeah!”

“...”

“Um, you can let go of my hand now”

“Huh?—“ Ojiro looked down and saw he was still gripping your hand. “—Oh, sorry!”

He let go and you chuckled.

“Thanks, bye cutie.”

Ojiro blushed as he waved at you, his tail also waving side to side.

“Finally, it’s about time one of you made a move!”

Ojiro jumped and spun around.

Dark shadow was in his face again.

“Watching the two of you ogle each other every two seconds was painful.”

“W-what?”

Tokoyami cleared his throat from behind Dark shadow.

“Yeah, the two of you were very obvious with your infatuation with each other I don’t know how you didn’t notice.”

Ojiro sputtered.

“Wait, so you knew he liked me the entire time and you didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Ojiro just sighed. It worked out in the end so there’s no reason to be upset.

“It’s fine, anyway I should be going, see you tomorrow Tokoyami.”

Ojiro waved and began his walk home.

As Ojiro was finishing up his final chore for the day his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and turned it on.

A text from an unknown number was on his screen.

It said “Hey Ojiro!!! Tokoyami gave me your number”

He smiled and typed a quick reply.

“Hey (Y/n).”

You replied almost instantly.

“I just wanted to say that I look forward to our date tomorrow”

“Me too.”

After that, the two of you texted back and forth, for the rest of the day and well into the night.

So when you told him you had to go to sleep he was left alone in the dark laying in bed.

He was so nervous that he couldn’t sleep, but he was also excited.

Out of all of the people you could’ve chosen, you chose him.

Ojiro hugged his tail to his chest and buried his face into the tuft of hair at the top.

He needed to go to sleep to wake up bright and early to set something up for after class.

Hopefully, he could impress you.

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[tommybaholland]

complicated  

featuring: shinso 

this has been sitting in the drafts for a minute but since he’s reappeared in the anime, this seemed like the perfect time to finish writing it. this is a bit of an expansion on what i wrote for shinso in “what they’re insecure about in the relationship.” it’s not much but i think it’s an interesting concept and i hope you enjoy it!

“wow! you can really make people do whatever you want!”

“there’s a lot of villainous things you could do with that!”

“don’t brainwash us, okay?” 

he’s heard it all before. every person he meets, without a doubt, have something to say about his quirk. he’s used to it by now but that doesn’t mean he’s not bothered by it. frankly, shinso didn’t want to know what they thought. on the other hand, he was cynical. what could one say about it that didn’t sound like a backhanded compliment?  

he figured if people really thought his quirk was powerful, then he could train to be a hero and show that he can use it to help people. prove everyone wrong, especially those with more physical quirks who think he shouldn’t train in the hero course. 

there were only two people who seemed to want to fight for his dream. 

this first being mr. aizawa. of all people, the teacher of class 1A of the hero course wanted to help him. the teacher didn’t sugarcoat shinso’s performance at the sports festival. rather, he commented on shinso’s potential in the hero course, given that he could relate to the lack of a ‘flashy’ combat quirk. shinso had been training hard to use the capture weapon, his mind flashing back to what mr. aizawa said when he first received it. 

“using support items doesn’t make you helpless or handicapped. just like those who have physical quirks use them as extensions of their own bodies, you have to think of it as your own extension.”  

that was probably one of the only real compliments he had received. 

then there was you. 

he met you back when he started at ua in the general studies course. he never looked forward to starting somewhere new, especially in a course that he didn’t apply for in the first place. meeting new people was just one part of it. 

it’s not that you were different. you knew how to respect boundaries. you didn’t say anything about his quirk but even then, it didn’t really matter because this wasn’t the hero course. people still asked. he didn’t see the point. 

you paid him attention in other ways. you were just as observant as him and it had him wondering if that was part of your own quirk. even if he didn’t know you had noticed what he was doing, you always had something to say about it. something that wasn’t a backhanded compliment, like how he could make things or fix things easily or in creative ways.

that made him really start to think the world of you. yet he still so lucky that you were dating him. you made him believe that his destiny wasn’t set and it wasn’t too late to become a hero. the day he told you he was going to try to move into the hero course, you couldn’t be happier for him. 

“i was hoping you’d do that!” 

“yeah. it’s kinda crazy that it’s all happening.”

“that’s great, toshi. i’m so proud of you.” 

he felt warm from all your kindness and support. however, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling about you truly trusting him. he had been pretty transparent at this point about how he felt about other people and how he had been treated in the past. he was never looking for your sympathy but having you there to listen to him helped immensely. on the other hand, feeling this close to someone scared him. sometimes he wondered what would happen if he couldn’t control his quirk or something happens that compels him to do something bad to you or someone else. could he brainwash himself?

he sometimes wishes his feelings weren’t so complicated. 

“you trust me, right?” he asked, looking away. he knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it.

“of course,” you replied without hesitation. “do you...think that i don’t?” 

“no, no. i just-- sometimes i feel like-- i don’t know.” he struggled to put it into words. or maybe he was just afraid of what would happen if he said it.

“what? what do you feel?”

he sighed. “i guess i just don’t trust myself very much and therefore i feel like you shouldn’t trust me even though you say you do.” 

“why shouldn’t i trust you?”

“i don’t know. i’ve just been thinking about training to be a hero and what if my quirk-- and it-- and something happens to you?” 

you nod in understanding. “i need you to do something that may help.”

“hm?”

“i want you to brainwash me, hitoshi.”

he looks over to you, incredulity written all over his face. 

“no. i can’t do that.”

he’s never used his quirk on any of his loved ones, the few that he has anyway. you were especially someone who he’d never want to control. it didn’t feel right to him. 

“that’s why i’m not asking you,” you reply bluntly. “i think you need to see how much i trust you but more importantly how much you trust yourself.” 

he was still in disbelief. “how do you know that this will help? what if it just causes more problems?”

“we’ll just have to see. but i know you wouldn’t do anything you’d regret.”

was this really something he had to do? this seemed so complicated. it was just another reason why he wonders how he was given this quirk. but you were right. it was already causing him doubt and mental block. something had to be done if he was planning to be a hero one day. 

he lets out one final sigh and nods. “okay.”

you grinned at him. “ready whenever you are.”

he heeds your words as the condition is met. in a split second your eyes go blank, leaving nothing but a vacant expression on your face, signaling that his quirk had you successfully in his mental hold. you sat there silently, waiting for a command. you were also very still, which surprised him a little. 

obviously, if he were using it on an unexpecting target, they’d be trying to fight it. even though you were voluntarily wanting to be brainwashed, he can’t imagine that it’s the most comfortable feeling in the world. he sat in silence with you for a few moments before speaking, his quirk still activated. 

“you can still hear me under my control but you can’t respond.”

another beat of silence as if he were expecting you to answer or nod. 

“come here.”

still under his control, you move closer to sit right next to him. he looks at your blank face, brushing some hair off your forehead before releasing you from his quirk. the beautiful color of your eyes returns, a slight gasp leaving your lips as you regain control of your own head. 

you grab the hand that’s caressing the side of your head looking down at it before your eyes meet curious purple ones. 

“are you okay?”

you nodded, the familiar grin returning on your face. 

“are you?” you returned as you leaned closer to him, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

he mimicked your response and nodded as his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips. his arms wrapped around you as your lips connected in a slow, passionate kiss. 

it was emotional for you. hearing that he’s been hurt by all these thoughts and hoping that he would accept himself. you wondered if it was enough.

he brushed your cheek when you pulled away. your glossy eyes looked back into his, smiling at his presence. he returned the smile, something that you were hoping you would see. 

“you’re a good guy, toshi. you deserve to know that and everyone deserves to see that when you become a great hero.” 

that was the second time he had heard a genuine compliment. it wasn’t necessarily about his quirk but to him it was. 

“thank you, kitten,” he replied, hugging you tightly. he felt warm again but it felt like it was filling him to the brim. 

“i think i love you. a lot.” 

that was when your tears finally fell. 

out of everything in his life, you were the most uncomplicated. he had tangible feelings for you and they were something worth fighting for. he’s heard before that unconditional love is hard to come by. he can finally relax when he realizes he doesn’t need conditions to love you.

time for another bnha night! shinso says send requests here..

[blitheringmcgonagall]

My Gallant Lad - Part I

So I got a wonderful anon today telling me this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it in 4  parts here. I hope you enjoy it (Lily is very BAMF here but tbh so is James). Set during First Wizarding War...

James slammed the palms of his hands down on Dumbledore’s desk.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he said, his eyes a hot mess of emotions.

“Get your oafish hands off my desk, now!” Lily said, recovering from the initial shock almost immediately with a flash of anger.

“Your desk?” James said, taking his hands off the desk, nevertheless.

“I’m using it now, yes, I need to get these mission forms finished and signed before bringing them for filing in the Room of Requirement,” Lily said, looking back at James angrily. “What the hell is your problem, Potter?”

“My problem?” James was furious. “I’ll tell you what my problem is, Evans. My problem is that my bloody wife thought it sensible to visit Walburga Black, the same woman who thinks nothing of throwing a Crucio at her children, whose husband tried to kill Sirius, who detests muggleborns, who tried to – oh fucking hell, Lily! What the absolute, ever-living fuck possessed you?”

She had never seen him so angry. She folded her arms defensively and glared back, wondering how he had found out.

“I’ll tell you exactly what possessed me, Potter,” she said coldly. “My problem is my dickhead of a husband who nearly got himself thrown into Azkaban by the Blacks, but then thought it sensible to attend a Black family funeral, and to top it all, decided to call over to chat to Orion’s heir, as you do! Do I need to explain it further? What exactly was I meant to do? Let you read the letter and let you waltz back in there so that bitch could finish you off, once and for all?”

She was standing up now, and he couldn’t quite understand how someone so slender and uncommonly kind could look so intimidating and fierce within the space of a few seconds.

“That letter was addressed to me, damn it!” James said, his voice rising with irritation. “You had no right opening my post!”

“I don’t care!” Lily said, looking more agitated and feeling guilty. “If you think I would have let you just go there, you’re even more stupid than I gave you credit for!”

“You’re a muggleborn, Evans, fucking bloody fucking…” James’ words ran out as he waved his arm about with rage. “You could have been killed, do you understand me? Killed, damn it!”

“Yes, well, so could you, at least I have more sense! Remus and I knew what we were doing!” Lily shot back, feeling angrier by the second.

“You clearly didn’t, Evans! What you did was grossly irresponsible and wilfully sly! I don’t care what you say, you could have been killed, Evans, for fuck’s sake! When I see Moony, I’m going to kill him!”

James made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and slammed his fist against the wall. Damn it, he was furious and livid and scared out of his wits and fucking sick of this shit.

“Remus didn’t have any choice, I told him I was going, and he decided to come with me, surely a safer bet! Don’t you dare drag Remus into this!” Lily said.

“Don’t you dare, ever, ever go behind my back like that again, ever, do you hear me?” he shouted.

“You can scream all you like, Potter, you don’t get to tell me what to do!” Lily said, her voice rising angrily.

“Don’t you dare act like you’re the innocent one in this Evans, for fuck’s sake!” James said.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Potter!” Lily said. “Get out!”

Her voice was starting to wobble which made her even madder.

“You know what? Fine!” James said, gripping his wand tightly and watching as furious sparks flew from his wand tip. “If you want to tell yourself that this is my fault, if you want to lie to yourself so you can  – ugh! Lily, don’t you dare defend this!”

“I’m not listening to your ranting any longer!” Lily said, slamming the book shut and flinging her quills and parchment into her well-worn bag.

She marched past him, livid and upset and boiling with rage. They hadn’t spoken since. James had slept at his parents’ house for a while and now, with Sirius and Remus gone, James had taken to sleeping in his friends’ bedroom. He didn’t like leaving her with only Wormy for protection. They avoided each other at mealtimes. Peter had cringed and disappeared into the relative safety of his bedroom. There was simply no way he could win if he took sides. They were both still furious.

                                                        ***

“Looks like you swapped into an easy shift,” said Edgar Bones, loosening his collar and placing his cloak over his arm. “Nothing much happening, no handover.”

“Thanks,” said James curtly.

“Lily, James,” Edgar said, tipping his hat at them, sensing something was amiss but too polite to bring it up in conversation.

“Edgar,” said James.

“Bye, Edgar, see you soon,” Lily said, smiling at him half-heartedly.

“If it stays this quiet, I’m going to try going for a kip,” said Frank Longbottom, looking at the fireplace one last time and throwing a blanket over himself.

James nodded absent-mindedly, his left hand restlessly tapping on his thigh, shooting Lily fleeting glances when he knew she wasn’t watching. He hated whenever they fought, and this had been their worst row ever. The night stayed quiet, Lily dozed off on the armchair and James watched her. He was worried about her too, she looked pale and she seemed off her food for weeks now. It added to the leaden feeling of guilt he was carrying. It was his fault. He was right, he was damned well right, and he had nothing to apologise for, but he probably would. Because he knew what he was getting himself into when he married her, didn’t he? And wouldn’t he have done the exact same thing in her place, he told himself for the umpteenth time? He transfigured his jumper into a warm, thick blanket and placed it over her gently, doubling it up and kissing the top of her head tenderly. He watched the magical fairy lights on the tree twinkling merrily. He couldn’t have felt less Christmassy. He fell asleep eventually, having transfigured the rug into a scratchy blanket.

He was woken up by a loud shout emanating from the fireplace.

“You better get your sorry arses down here immediately! I’ve just intercepted intel that a couple of Death Eaters are planning an attack on a muggle school bus in the vicinity of Newcastleton!” Dedalus Diggle’s voice crackled.

“Where’s that?” said James, his voice still croaky from sleep.

“Border between England and Scotland. Dumbledore has left a special portkey in his room that means you should be able to get anywhere, immediately. Hurry! There’s nobody else around.”

“Great!” grumbled Frank, sitting up reluctantly, but shoving his feet into his shoes without hesitation. “Typical Dumbledore, never around when you need him!”

“Get some water and rations and let’s go,” Lily said, standing up and sitting back down rather suddenly.

“Alright, Evans?” James said, with a concerned frown.

“Fine, just feeling a bit sick, probably need to eat something,” she said.

“Maybe you should stay behind?” James said.

“No!” Lily said, forcing herself to stand. “It’s fine. We can’t risk it. It’s children, James!”

James nodded immediately. He wanted to apologise, but not in front of Frank.

“Dedalus, can you try and contact a few of the others in case anyone is available to join us? We’ll be with you in a jiffy,” he said.

“No can do, I’ve also had word of another attack planned in Wales, I’m trying to get in touch with Moody as we speak!”

“Got it,” said Lily, looking at Frank and James. “Don’t worry, we’re on it!”

                                                         ***

“This place gives me the creeps,” said James, peering up at the tall trees.

The air felt thick and heavy, the branches seemed to vie with each other to block out the sunlight, suffocating. Thick moss, grey and faded, clung to everything, dried twigs and branches snapped loudly beneath their feet, disturbing the numerous birds whose harsh cries filled the air, as though spying on them, he thought, watching their acrobatic flight.

“Jackdaws,” he said quietly, moving closer to Lily.

Lily gave him a quizzical look.

“That’s their call - a short, loud, ‘kya’ sound, and they have distinctive, beady white eyes,” he added.

“Is there anything you guys don’t know?” grumbled Frank, shooting James a friendly grin.

“Nope,” James grinned back.

He moved closer to Lily, protectively, feeling a threat in the fabric of the forest, ancient memories, secret and forbidding. He had transfigured the portkey into a muggle leather bracelet, insignificant and worthless to any potential Death-Eaters, which he had placed on Lily’s wrist despite her protestations.

“They must be here somewhere,” Frank whispered, holding his wand aloft. “If we just keep walking, we’ll increase the chances of them seeing us.”

“Let’s split up, I’ll hide in there,” Lily said, pointing to a decrepit, large pine, whose gnarly trunk was rotting and held space for one person. “You two get on higher ground. We can all see the road from here. If you spot anything dangerous, send your signal.”

James’ was an owl hooting, Lily’s was the snort of a frightened deer, Frank’s was the harsh screech of a magpie.

“Alright,” James said, turning to look at Lily, feeling awkward and unsure. “Take care, please.”

“You too,” Lily said, her face unreadable.

“I’m glad Alice isn’t on call today,” Frank whispered after a pause, as they moved on carefully. “We just found out she’s pregnant. Bit of a shock really. Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!”

He looked excited and pleased.

“Frank!” said James. “Wow, that’s… that’s brave of you, and rather wonderful news.”

He didn’t know what to say.

He stopped short.

Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!

The night of Sirius’ twentieth Birthday. They had both forgotten to cast a contraceptive charm. Could that explain…?

“Frank, I forgot something, I need to run back to Lily, go ahead!” James said.

“You okay?” Frank said, seeing James’ face turn grey.

But he was already gone.

                                                       ***

“Lily!” James said, catching his breath.

“What is it?” Lily said, wand ready to shoot.

“Lily, have you done a pregnancy charm?”

“A what?”

“To see if you’re pregnant?”

“No, why?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Understanding dawned on her.

“James,” said Lily, her green eyes searching his anxiously.

“Let me,” James whispered, taking hold of his wife’s slender wrist and turning her palm upwards, he pointed his wand tip at her pulse point. “Gravidam!”

They both watched as James’ wand tip glowed green.

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, staring at her.

“What does that mean, James?” Lily said.

“It means… it means you’re pregnant,” James said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Fucking bloody fucking…”

Lily’s eyes were wide as his words sank in. As his reaction sank in. She turned away from him and swiped hastily at the tears that fell down her cheeks silently.

“We need to…” James said urgently. “Fucking Merlin… fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Lily’s voice broke as she spoke, her lower lip trembling. “I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean this to happen now, God I really didn’t mean this to… I understand if that’s how you feel, James, but I-“

“What?” James said, turning her around to face him and taking her face in his hands tenderly. “Lily, Merlin, I don’t mean –“

The screech of a magpie rent the air and they both jumped.

“Incarcerous!” numerous voices shouted, as thick ropes coiled themselves swiftly around them, James’ wand dropping to the floor.

“Expelliarmus!” a recognisable voice added, James’ wand flying through the air. “Where’s the other one’s wand?”

“Mulciber,” James said, the blood draining from his face.

“I said, where’s your wand, bitch?” Mulciber said, grabbing Lily by the throat.

“I dropped it earlier on,” Lily rasped, staring back at him defiantly. “I can’t find it.”

“Accio Lily Evans’ wand!” Mulciber ordered, pointing his wand at Lily.

Lily’s wand flew out of the thicket behind them. Mulciber leered at Lily.

“Grab hold of them and set anti-apparition wards around them! And get them to de Soulis Castle, now!” Mulciber said to the other Death-Eaters who surrounded them. “The Dark Lord will be very disappointed to find that it isn’t Sirius Black we have captured, just a useless blood-traitor and a vile mudblood. The information we received must have been incorrect.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mulciber!” James sprang forwards in fury.

“Quiet!” Mulciber said, coming right up in front of Lily and grabbing hold of her Jacket collar. “Or she gets hurt.”

James swallowed.

I tried to laugh about it Cover it all up with lies I tried to laugh about it Hiding the tears in my eyes 'Cause boys don't cry

                                                     ***

The weathered remains of the castle loomed, malevolent, as they crossed the bridge over the moat. Fragments of a tower emerged, the holes in its walls reminiscent of a skull. While the forest around it was dry and parched, wilting and unseasonably warm, as they neared the castle gates mist descended on them. The inside of the castle felt damp and cold. Much colder. Mulciber’s breath condensed in front of him as he spoke, frost clung to the corners of the walls, there were no windows in the great hall.

He had seen this room before… where?

The heavy double doors leading into the main banqueting hall swung open, and four men entered, none of their faces were masked.

“Villiers, Wilkes, Rosier, Snape,” said Mulciber, with a cold laugh. “Your very closest allies, I believe? I failed to retrieve the disowned Black heir, but I found these.”

Villiers and Wilkes giggled. Silence descended as another figure entered the room, the five men bowing immediately. Muciber pushed James and Lily forcefully and they fell forwards onto their knees. James watched as Voldemort approached slowly, with a gleeful expression. He zoned in on Snape, Snape who was watching Lily with terror on his face, before carefully schooling it into neutral.

The room.

McGonagall’s grim tones echoed in his mind.

“So, a group of Death Eaters, who appear to have captured Lily Evans, in an unidentified location?”

Divination class. His vision. He had forseen this.

“Lily,” he said quietly, speaking through his teeth. “Do you trust me to get us out?”

He was sure Voldemort could hear his heart pounding.

“If you have an idea, I’m all in,” Lily murmured, watching Voldemort as he drew nearer.

“Leave it to me,” he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and locked eyes with Severus Snape.

“Fuck you, Severus Snape! You absolute bastard! Stay the fuck away from my wife, do you hear? Don’t you dare go near her, you fucking piece of shit! I despise you, Snivellus! You fucking coward! Bastard cursed Death Eater! Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” James screamed.