#I need to bundle that girl up and feed her soup

[fandoms-of-erlik]

Well SOME characters need a long fucking hug but I won't tell who

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 23

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: A boner exists. Flashback smut AN: See that warning? You made it to the smut... that I'm going to spoon feed you over *chapters*. I said there was smut, not that you would be sitting down to a full meal! Have a fluff chapter before two weeks of angst to lead off the angst train!

Masterlist AO3 KoFi ~~~~~<3

Mia’s head rested against Tom’s shoulder as he carried her to bed. Sleep sang it’s siren song to her and with each step he took, it was harder and harder for her to fight off the darkness. Before Tom had crossed into her room, their room, she was dozing in a light sleep.

Carefully, Tom nestled her onto her side of their bed. Their bed, that was a thought that made him smile even for a fleeting moment in the turmoil of the unknown dark turn her night had taken. 

He had made it up, pulling the blankets back as she had showered. She needed him, he knew that, even if he was left guessing as to how he could best help her. The cause of it need didn’t matter, though anger simmered under the blanket of concern within him. Something had happened, something worse than what she was saying and he could do nothing but make her a bowl of canned soup.

There would be countless times over the next year when she would need him, just like tonight, and he would likely not be there to care for her. She would likely go to bed hungry, too emotionally spent to heat her own soup. The least he could do was care for her now. 

“Sleep well, my Sunflower.” Tom pulled the blankets up over her. He had wanted to kiss her but without knowing what happened, he didn’t dare. Instead he softly pushed the brown wave of hair that fell over her face to the side before going to turn off the lights.

She woke from the light sleep as he climbed into the bed next to her. There was a sea of thoughts and emotions swimming in her too tired mind as she fought sleep back. Turning on her side, she whispered his name.

“Do you need anything?” Tom whispered, turning toward her in the dark. 

She surprised him and herself both by scooting herself closer to him. The bed wasn’t large but when they went to sleep, there was space left out of respect for her boundaries regardless of how they tended to wake tangled. 

Reaching up, she rested the palm of her hand against his stubbly cheek. He didn’t shave much when he was there and she kind of liked it. 

Tom laid still, watching her curiously in the darkness. Leaning forward, she placed a lingering kiss on his lips. It was soft and chaste yet he could feel countless emotions in the simple action. Reaching up, he covered her hand with his own. 

“Can you hold me tonight?” She finally whispered. 

Tom nodded, voice too thick to try to speak. Shifting onto his back, he drew her toward him. Safe in his arms, she drifted almost instantly right to sleep. Tom wasn’t far behind at all, holding tightly onto her hand resting on his chest.

This was everything he had wanted. She was everything he had wanted. 

~~~~~<3

Morning came with Sally bouncing into the room, a bundle of birthday energy Mia and Tom both were too tired for. Sally was spectacular about letting the adults in her life sleep when she woke first but where were some exceptions. Sally had a free pass as soon as the clock in her room turned green to wake her mother up on birthdays and holidays. 

Mia nuzzled into Tom’s chest, nails lightly scratching him as she balled her fingers into a fist and tried to disappear into sleep. One of her legs were pressed tightly against Tom’s, stretching out as her toes flexed. Her other leg was curled up, hooked over his thigh with her toes resting on his knee, tickling him as they wiggled sleepily. 

“It’s my birthday!” Sally bounced around the room, unconcerned by the sight of Tom, shirtless and in bed with her mom wrapped around him. Sally didn’t question the messy hair or their positions. 

To the little girl, they were normal and Tom belonged. It was just fact to Sally.

“Indeed it is, little petal.” Tom pushed himself up on one elbow. It caused him to curl into Mia slightly and she felt why he wasn’t eager to get out of the bed against her thigh. “Why don’t you go grab one pastry out of the box. We’ll be out in a minute to help you with the rest of breakfast.” 

Mia bounced out of the room. 

“Close the door!” Mia shouted after her. The small girl ran back, grabbed the door handle and swung it closed with a giggle. 

“Thank you.” Tom fell back on his back and squeezed her closer to him uncaring of his predicament in the moment. 

It caused her whole position to shift again and her thigh brushed against his manhood though she had done her best to avoid it. His breath caught in his chest at the small contact and she yanked her leg straight down. She tried to pull away but was unable with his arms around her. 

“I’m sorry,” She hated how her face felt like it was on fire. 

“No, no- It’s fine Darling. You didn’t, I know you didn’t mean to.” Hearing him say it like that made her feel something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She didn’t not want to touch him. She just- It was complicated. 

Tom sat up, situating himself in his sweat pants in a effort to hide his excitement before giving up and just keeping himself under the blanket. Mia watched him as she tried to figure out what he really meant by that or and why it made her feel this way. 

“Are you feeling better this morning?” Tom asked, noticing her watching him. “I’ll be able to get up in a few minutes, once this um, passes.”

Tom was blushing, she realized. He looked good with the flush high on his cheeks. 

“That’s normal.” She said, pointing to his crotch. “In case you didn’t know. It just happens, I know.”

“I know,” Tom swung his legs off the bed, leaving blanket pooled in his lap still. “I just, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He was calmed down enough that he felt safe to stand. 

Mia tried to keep her eyes in PG13 places but it was a struggle. She had seen a lot of Tom the morning after their wedding and not a lot since. Sure, she’d seen him shirtless a handful of times but, oh he looked well endowed.

Sweat pants were magical. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asked again, resting his hand on her arm when she failed to answer the first time he asked. 

It startled her. She’d been too distracted looking at his goods and then trying not to look at his goods to notice him approaching her. Did he know she was looking at his goods? 

“I am, yeah.” She took a deep breath and tried to shake off the weight of the night before and feelings Tom caused in her mind. 

“Mia?” Tom wasn’t sure what he was going to say at first. “Do you like working there? I mean, honestly?”

“I can’t not work, Tom.” 

“I know- and I’m not asking you. Hell, if I am honest unless my agent is right- unless he can swing this contract with Marvel how he thinks he can swing it, I’ll be able to support you both for a long while but if it doesn’t, maintaining two households would stretch me thin.”

“What’s your point then?”

“My point is when you came home last night, you looked like a shell of the woman I’ve been getting to know for the last few weeks. You looked scared and hurt. I would rather stretch myself thin than have you go through something that leaves you feeling like that, especially if I might not be here.”

“I’m fine, Tom.” She was touched by his worry for her. It warmed her heart and made her eyes water. No one had cared or worried about her like that in a very long time. It scared her too, though. “Look, I-”

“I know.” He interrupted, talking over her. “I know you don’t want to rely on me. I know it’s hard for you to trust me but it’s been a few weeks. We’ve been growing, making progress. At least, I thought so.” 

“Tom, I can’t.” He saw it, the moment he pushed too hard. He feared if not for his heart beating in his ears, he would be able to hear the sandcastle of a marriage they had begun to build crumbling to the ground. “I- Thank you, for holding me last night. But I can’t.” 

~~~~~<3

Mia had all but ran out of the room. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, deafening her. There was nothing more in the world she wanted than to quit her job and find something where her ass wouldn’t get grabbed and men wouldn’t treat her like one of the attractions. 

But she couldn’t. 

That would mean trusting Tom completely and he said it himself, his career was a lot of unknowns. Their marriage had an expiration date too. Would they remain married at the end of the year? Tom had seemed so sure three weeks ago when he insisted this crazy plan go into existence but even if things were going okay, would be want his forever to be a stranger?

Mia scrambled eggs and tried to keep her mind from running head first down a path of a million ‘what if’s. She was mad at him and yet she was more touched than he could ever know- all for the same reason: He cared enough to offer her a way out.

“Mommy, Tommy said he’s got a fun day planned!” Sally announced as she ate fruit. 

Breakfast was coming in stages this morning. The little girl had chocolate on her cheeks from the small chocolate donut she had first gotten. At some point the night before, Tom had cut up fruit and she was currently munching on that. The scrambled eggs would come last. 

“Tommy?” Mia couldn’t help but laugh as the bedroom door opened and Tom walked out. “You’ve been renamed, you’re ‘Tommy’ now.”

“Is that so?” Tom laughed, tension melting a little from his shoulders at Mia’s smile telling him that, at least for now, the dust had settled and perhaps the sandcastle still stood. 

He had been Tommy in his boyhood but had grown out of it with everyone except his mother. He was forever Tommy to her, except when he was in trouble- then he was Thomas. He was Thomas when he had told her of his marriage, most recently. 

“Mommy and Tommy sitting in a tree.” The little girl sang, giggling. “It rhymes!” 

“Eat your eggs.” Mia redirected, sliding the plate in front of her. Glancing at Tom, she could see his face was as red as her’s felt. “Coffee?” She asked him, offering an olive branch over where she had built fortress walls in sand. 

~~~~~<3

Tom had spent the day prior studying maps and learning routes. Today was his treat and he’d be damned if he made Mia drive them around for it. He was counting on his phone’s GPS and his prior studies to get them to where he wanted to go without giving away his gift to Sally or Mia who had thought she had approved all the plans for the day. 

Mia stacked presents and decorations near the apartment door, hoping to make set up for the party later easier on them both. Tom swore he had food taken care of and that she didn’t have to worry about a cake. 

Nothing fancy, he promised when she pressed, insisting everything that he would have needed her approval for, he got her approval for. The last thing she wanted was some spectacle that she would never be able to repeat if he left.

If he left. Mia realized she was no longer thinking about Tom leaving as inevitable. It was a possibility still but she caught herself hoping that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t.

That was dangerous. She had no business getting attached to him. 

“Where are we going?” Sally asked the question on Mia’s mind as Tom sat in the driver’s seat. 

Mia had a list of possibilities, ideas Tom had run by her but he kept what he decided on to himself.

“It’s a surprise.” He took his time adjusting everything to accommodate his long legs. 

Dark sunglasses rested on his face as he threw the car in gear. Veins traced their way up his forearms and she couldn’t help but admire the way his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. The cords in his neck were highlighted by the harsh desert sun along with his sharp jawline. The red and blonde in his hair were far more obvious in the sun as well. 

There had to be something wrong with her. No one should find someone driving a car this attractive. 

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

She accepted him into her greedily as he sank in, steady pressure splitting her walls open. His size was more than she was used to but she wanted him all. She wasn’t a untouched flower by any means but his size made her feel virginal in how he filled her inch by inch. 

She moaned as he sank deeper into her. The sound was cut off with his lips on hers. She had no choice but to swallow his moan along with her own as he bottomed out, hips nestling tight against hers. 

He only paused for a moment as he adjusted his position above her. Then he was thrusting. Slow and deep, the speed built with each thrust. Her legs hooked around his thighs as she tried to pull him closer, wanting to surround herself with him as she surrounded him. 

~~~~~<3 Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @kats72 @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @soulpiercing @evedia @princess-ofthe-pages

[harryforvogue]

how about FAYE taking care of HARRY because he’s got a COLD because he ALWAYS bundles HER in HIS hat/scarf/gloves while they’re walking to the bus cause he needs his girl to be WARM but that leaves his little ears and nose all cold & red which leads to him getting SICK. & she’s living her best life making him soup & tea & cuddling him & watching his favorite movies <3333

( and don’t come at me because it’s summer i’m manifesting cooler weather tnx <3 )

“So I’m not saying I like it when you’re sick,” Faye says, very concentrated on bringing the tray of food to Harry without slipping. In fact, she stops talking altogether until she’s in the living room, placing the tray very slowly on the table. “But I do like taking care of you. After the whole freak out thing of course. I am much more calm and level headed now.”

Harry’s resting with his head back against the couch, his face flushed with fever. His chest rises and falls with labored breaths. “If I said that, I think you’d cry.”

“I do not cry anymore.”

“Please,” Harry says weakly. “Don’t make me bring up all the examples from the past two weeks.”

She sits beside him. “Anyways, I didn’t have chicken on account of being vegetarian and all and I didn’t have chicken stock either so that soup is more of a miso and tofu noodle soup, okay? I probably should have asked if you even eat tofu.”

He awkwardly sits up, pushing the layers of blankets down to his lap. Instead of reaching for the food, he takes Faye’s hand. “I love you. As my dying wish, I ask you to find happiness. Date and marry the man who makes you happy. All I ask is that you don’t date any of my coworkers. They’re too mean for you.”

Faye smiles. “So thoughtful of you. Want me to feed you?” But the way she says it actually makes it seem like she’s demanding it. “Good.” She takes a spoonful and brings it to Harry’s mouth.

“Love,” he says tiredly. “It’s too hot.”

“Oh right. Um, do you want me to blow on it?”

At that exact moment, Timothée walks by. He looks at Harry on the couch. “What the hell happened to you? Who’s blowing what?” He holds a hand up. “Don’t answer that.”

“I got him sick,” Faye says. 

“She didn’t,” Harry croaks. “It was basically on me.”

Timmy looks at her. Then Harry. Then slowly puts his arm over his face and steps back. “Er, alright. Well. I’m going to work so … you’ve got the house to yourself.”

“Yeah yeah,” Harry says.

“If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll grab it on my way home.”

“Tell the guys I should be back by next week.”

With that, Timmy is gone. Harry’s eyes are closed again. Faye decides she shouldn’t blow on his food, so she just awkwardly waves the spoon in the air until it’s cooled enough. Then she holds it to his mouth. “Ready?”

Harry’s eyes flutter open. “Yes. Sorry.” He drinks it. “Mm that’s good.”

“Really?!”

“Really. Thank you, love.”

“Let this be a lesson for you. No more giving me your hat and gloves when we’re out, got it?”

Harry tries to laugh. “How about you start bringing actual warm clothing, especially during the winter?”

“Sure. I'll do that too.”

“No, I’m not so sure that you will since you like taking care of me so much. You’ll get me sick on purpose.”

She gasps. “I’d never.” She gives him another spoonful. “Maybe your body is just weak because I’ve never gotten sick from the cold.”

“Weak?”

“Yeah. I mean before you, I always went out in the cold like that and never got sick.”

Harry opens his mouth for more soup. “It’s some medical thing we can’t explain.” He frowns. “I don’t like that nobody took care of you before me.”

“Well in their defense, I’m a grown woman and should be able to take care of myself. It’s really a fault on my part.”

“You were sad,” he argues. “You needed someone.”

“Well then I found someone.”

Harry perks up. “Yes. You did. And you know what? I’ve changed my mind about the whole dating after me thing.”

“Oh yeah?” Faye smiles.

“Yeah. I’ll just come back as a ghost so we’ll never really be apart.”

“What made you change your mind?”

He says, “The thought of you spoon feeding another man.”

“Really?” she laughs. “That’s what got you? There are far other romantic things I could do with someone else.”

“Being spoon fed is at the top of my list of romantic actions. It’s a love language I think.” She gives him another spoonful. He sighs deeply and then shuffles over to rest his head on her shoulder. “Your boyfriend is a mouth breather. How does that make you feel?”

“I don’t mind,” she tells him, patting his cheek. “I love you.”

“Despite the sweatiness.”

“Despite.”

“You're my baby."

She lays her head on his, kissing his sweaty hair. “Despite me never dressing for the weather?”

He takes a very deep breath and stays silent for longer than necessary. He finally says, “Yes” and then opens his mouth for more soup.

[meowsforyujin]

jihyo- girl of my dreams

(Fluff, established relationship, warnings: vomiting, slight mentions of suggestive content, cheesy af but still sweet)

it was late evening and you were waiting for your girlfriend, jihyo, to come home. You already knew jihyo was needy, based on the heated and teasing text messages she sent you earlier, and you fully intended to help her out. There was a problem though, you have been sick since she left for work this morning.

You really didn’t want to be a bother, or selfish, or anything like that so you figured you’d be fine. You were already dressed in langerine, jihyos favorite too. You waited on the bed patiently, ignoring your stomach creeping its way up your chest. Your girlfriend would be here any minute, and she needed you. This was no time for being sick.

Unfortunately for you, there’s only so much you can control. You rushed to the bathroom just barely making it in time, almost vomiting on the floor.

Eventually your body decided to quit torturing you, and you flushed the toilet. You felt too dizzy to get up, and you hadn’t heard any car drive into the parking lot, so you decided to lie down on the bathroom floor for a bit. You decided to get up when you felt less dizzy, and hopefully jihyo wouldn’t notice a thing.

“Y/n?”

you heard jihyos voice calling you, laced with concern

“Oh hi, sorrry, I’m fine.”

“Baby, you’re burning up!” She had her cold hand pressed on your forehead.

“It’s nothing, really I’m okay I’ll be fine.”

“No, no you’re not and I won’t let you do anything without my help when you’re in this state.”

With that she picked you up and set you on the bed, searching the dresser for comfier clothes.

She sighed while undressing you, “baby why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you or anything..”

“Aw love, please don’t do this again. You’re my number one priority.”

She dressed you in your (her) favorite hoodie, soft pajama pants and pink fluffy socks. Then, (much to your dismay) she picked you up and brought you downstairs and set you on the couch. She told you to wait there so you did, slowly falling asleep.

You opened your eyes slowly after dosing off, due to jihyo tapping you awake.

“Here sweet girl, I made you soup.” She held the spoon to your mouth

You glared at her, “You don’t need to feed me.”

“Yes I do, you’re the love of my life I have to take care of you.”

You tried to hold back a smile, giving up and letting her feed you. She was always so sweet, one of the very reasons you fell for her in the first place.

You spent the rest of the day in jihyo’s arms, bundled in blankets watching Disney movies.

You don’t know how you got so lucky to find a girlfriend like her. She was literally the girl of your dreams.

[thesafecafe]

Ateez: Taking care of their girlfriend after she gets caught in the rain

Anon Request: "Happy new year! Can I please request Ateez where their girlfriend comes home after getting caught and soaked in a rain/snowstorm and he spends the rest of the evening taking care of her/getting her warm again? Feeling really cozy and seasonal haha ^_^ thank you!"

Fluff, implied sickness, medicine, she/her pronouns, the boys are exceptionally sweet in this, just so much teeth rotting, sugary fluff, no gifs this time, enjoy! (this is so late rhfdsj)

Seonghwa:

makes you a warm bowl of soup and puts a pack of saltine crackers with it

He makes sure you’re bundled up warmly, and takes your temperature before spoon feeding you

probably fusses at you for not staying inside during such terrible weather

will cuddle with you on the couch after cooking a meal for the both of you, cradling you into his chest

wouldn’t mind your protests about getting sick, as long as you were warm

makes sure to carry you to bed after giving you your medicine

“Good night princess.”

Hongjoong:

when you came through the door, shivering and fidgeting, Hongjoong knew it would be a long night

would immediately bring you towels, and make you get out of your wet clothes

brings you his t-shirt fresh out of the dryer before running you a warm bath, and turning on the heater in the house

gently washes your hair for you and makes sure you’re not catching a cold

“My poor baby, you must have been so cold. I’ll make it all better.”

Towels you off and put you in fluffy pajamas.

Watches movies and eats takeout with you for the evening

Yunho:

 Yunho to the rescue! He knew you were coming home from work late and he saw the storm break loose

he immediately went to work, having already prepared/ordered dinner

the heat was on, and he laid out your pajamas, slippers, and a scarf 

holds the door open as soon as you pull into the driveway, making sure you get in safely

he helps you into your pajamas, before ushering you into your shared bedroom

there you find he has laid out dinner for the both of you, along with a makeshift fort on top of your bed

“Welcome to casa Jeong, my lady”

Yeosang:

so sweet and caring

takes you into his arms, worrying over you and towel drying your hair

if you had the sniffles, he’d pat your head, and get you tissues after you changed

Would snuggle under the blankets with you to help warm you up, even if the heater was on

made sure you had food to eat, and will probably feed you like Seonghwa

“My little baby girl, out there all alone in the cold. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

You fall asleep in his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

San:

worried the most out of all the members

immediately rushes outside when you arrive, pulling you safely inside and out of the cold

makes sure you warm up in front of the fireplace

makes you hot chocolate, and makes sure to give you cold medicine just in case

you both sit in front of the fire, listening to it crackle as the storm rages outside

You both decide to watch Frozen, since it’s snowing so hard

“Elsa must be upset tonight, eh?”

Mingi:

concerned boy calls you before you reach home

but he called you too late, and you’re already down the street

He makes sure to turn on the heat, and make you some warm tea

If you come in, and he can tell you’re about to come down with a cold, he’s calling his mom

You hear him clumsily following his mom’s instructions in the kitchen

He tries to be quiet so as not to disturb you, but you hear his frantic whispers to his mom “I don’t have pepper!”

Once he finally gets everything together, he sits with  you, making sure you’re taken care of.

Wooyoung:

fussing and scolding you for not waiting on him to pick you up from work

he’d calm down though, wanting to make sure you get properly dried off and warm

the last thing he needs is a sick girlfriend right now, because who else will try his food?

he makes sure you’ve showered and changed into proper pajamas

aka a whole sweat suit for extra measure

he sees you struggling, so he helps you to dry your hair

“Don’t worry me like that anymore, okay? Let’s get you to bed.”

Jongho:

he is probably the most levelheaded

Jongho gives off the “wise old grandpa knowledge to me, so he’d know what to do

he’d have the heat going, the food on the table, and warm drinks were ready

he had his mom’s soup recipe on deck in case of rain-induced sickness

“Don’t worry honey, you’re gonna be just fine.”

sits with you and rubs your back as he read a book

sings you to sleep and covers you both with a blanket

[rubysunnday]

rooftops

A/N: The finale to my part in Olive's (@lxncelot) , writing challenge! This is fic 3 out of 3 (congrats if you made it this far, well done!) Again, prompts are all from Olive's dialogue and song prompt list) : 3) “I’ll miss this — us.” | 17) “Are we friends?”`| 26) “I could be in love with someone like you.” | rooftop kiss — james horner

Fic 1 | Fic 2 | Fic 3

The wind was howling outside the whaling hut. It was so harsh the windows and doors were rattling in their frames, fighting to stay put. But the two occupants inside didn't notice. They were both too cold and uncomfortable and pointedly ignoring the other to do much more than sit by the fire, bundled in furs, wearing someone else's clothes underneath.

Of course, they were both as far apart from each other as physically possible whilst also staying within the warmth of the fire. Matthias was silent. Y/N was silent. Neither said a word.

Matthias leant forward and poked the fire with the poker, nudging the logs around. They sparked and crackled as fresh wood was added, feeding the fire. Matthias glanced over at Y/N, barely visible under the furs. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"That does not matter," Matthias said, leaning back. "Because you're so cold it means you don't feel hunger. Your body needs to eat."

"I'm fine. I just want to sleep," Y/N muttered, tightening the furs around her, trying to block him out.

Matthias looked back at the pot that was simmering over the fire. "If you sleep, you'll likely not wake up again."

"Oh, good, that saves you from having to kill me," Y/N said, refusing to look at him.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now," Matthias replied, rolling his eyes as he spooned the soup into two bowls. "Now, eat," he said, holding the bowl out to her.

Y/N reluctantly reached out a hand from underneath the furs and took the bowl, putting it on the floor in front of her. "And if I don't want to eat?"

"Then you'll succumb to hypothermia and pass out," Matthias said, shrugging. "All Drüskelle learn that mistake in their first few months. Most recover. Some don't. Brum always says that a Drüskelle-"

"If I eat the damn soup, will you shut up?" Y/N snapped, turning to glare at him.

Matthias nodded. He watched Y/N intently as she picked up the bowl and took a small sip of the soup, letting it digest before taking another sip.

"It's good soup," she reluctantly admitted, dipping her spoon back in. "If you've poisoned it, I won't mind dying this way."

"For Saint's sake," Matthias muttered, swearing in Fjerdan under his breath. "I haven't poisoned it! I am eating it too."

Y/N raised her eyebrows but returned to her soup.

Silence fell in the whaling hut again.

"You can have the bed."

Y/N looked over at Matthias as she finished her soup. "Don't be ridiculous, there's room for two of us." Matthias was silent so Y/N looked at him again. "Oh, don't tell me little Matthias is scared of sleeping next to a woman."

"I am not..." He paused, forcing himself to calm down. "I am not scared."

"Good, then we will before sleep in the bed," Y/N said, standing up, setting her half-eaten soup aside.

Matthias reluctantly stood up too. He watched as Y/N clambered onto the bed, wrapping herself up in the furs and getting comfortable.

"Oh for Saint's sake, stop being such a prune and come here," she snapped. "You're the one going on about hypothermia and yet you're over there, freezing."

"I'm fine."

"Oh, look how the tables have turned," she muttered.

Matthias climbed into the other side of the bed and lay down on the very edge - as far away as possible from Y/N.

"Drüskelle," she said, turning her head to look at him. "Do you want to freeze to death? No? Then move closer."

He shuffled closer.

"Closer."

Mattthias shuffled even closer. Y/N could feel his cold skin against her back and shivered slightly.

"There, now neither of us will die in the night and we can go back to hating each other in the morning, happy?"

Matthias grunted, burying himself under the furs. Y/N turned onto her side and pulled the furs up over her shoulder, tucking them around her. She closed her eyes and wriggled down a bit, getting comfortable.

The wind kept on howling.

Matthias awoke suddenly as something jolted him. He sat up, expecting to see Y/N standing over him with a knife, about to cut out his heart. But the room was empty. It took him a moment to realise that someone was crying and that the someone was lying next to him.

He looked down at her and could see the tears falling down her face, the terror clearly written on her face as she relived something. Matthias wasn't sure why, but he felt his heart ache for the girl. He wasn't immune to nightmares - no one was.

Part of him wanted to leave her. A Grisha deserved to live through the terrors they had seen as punishment. But he couldn't believe that this girl - barely younger than him - could be so heartless and brutal. at such a young age, what could she have possibly experienced and seen that would have traumatised her in such a way.

Matthias reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Roëd," he said, for he didn't know her true name. Neither one had decided to share that information.

Y/N let out a panicked yelled and sat up, almost falling out of the bed. She pushed Matthias' hand away, flinging back all of the furs until she was just in the shirt and pants she'd found in the corner of the hut. Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and bolted from the room and out into the cold, cold night.

Matthias quickly got up and followed after her, not wanting her to get lost in the Fjerdan landscape or end up being attacked because, despite the death threats and the mutual hated, he did care for her. She'd saved him from the shipwreck and, somehow, they were still going.

Y/N fell to her knees in the snow - in the dark - and plunged her hands into the cold, wet snow, needing it to ground her and wake her up from her nightmare. Matthias stood in the doorway, watching warily in the background.

"Sorry," Y/N said quietly, her voice almost being lost in the wind. She sniffled and ducked her head, hiding her face. "I'm sorry."

Matthias approached cautiously. He hovered behind her for a moment before kneeling down behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be sorry for something you can't control."

Y/N chuckled, a shiver wracking through her body. "You surprised that Grisha have nightmares too?" She asked, turning to look at him. "That we're human?"

Matthias was silent. Y/N scoffed quietly, knowing she was right.

Their silent argument ended abruptly when a wolf let out a loud howl, only a few feet away. Both Y/N and Matthias looked up, struggling to see the animal through the dark and blinding snow.

The wolf stalked forward, baring its teeth at Y/N. She didn't move.

"Don't attack it," Matthias said quietly, slowly rising to his feet.

"No offence, Drüskelle, but I'm not going to let a wolf attack me because it's a sacred animal to you," Y/N hissed.

"Just wait," Matthias insisted. "Let him move first. If he attacks first then we know."

"And if he just stands there?"

"Then we wait."

The wolf snarled, taking another step forward. It howled. And then turned around and walked off.

"Get up, slowly," Matthias said, holding a hand out to Y/N.

Y/N reached behind her and took his hand, letting him pull her into his side. Matthias wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to warm Y/N up, as they watched the wolf walk off into the night.

"I've never seen a wolf just leave before," Y/N said quietly, shivering under Matthias' arm.

"They're mainly peaceful if not provoked," Matthias replied.

"As are Grisha."

Matthias looked down at her, his eyes finding hers. He looked at her for a moment in silence. Y/N looked up at him. She met his gaze for only a few seconds before she swayed against him, her knees giving out and plunging her back into the snow.

Matthias fell to the snow with her, pulling her into his side and putting an arm under her legs, another around her back, and lifting her up out of the snow. He carried her back inside, sitting her in front of the fire.

He grabbed the furs off the bed and piled them onto her, wrapping them around her shivering form. Y/N didn't protest, her eyes closing involuntarily as she tried to stay focused on the fire.

"Now who's dying of hypothermia," she muttered, her teeth chattering as she gave Matthias a half-hearted smile.

Matthias sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her shoulder as he tried to warm her up.

"For a man who hunts Grisha for a living, you are very determined to keep me alive," Y/N said quietly.

Matthias sighed to himself. "It was Grisha who killed my entire family. They set the village on fire and let it burn. My mother, sister and father all died. Because of Grisha."

Y/N was silent. Eventually, she spoke, her eyes focused on the fire. "Not all Grisha are good, Druskelle. Not all Grisha are bad. Like people. The Grisha who murdered your family are the minority. We are not all like that. And we are certainly not witches. We create from elements that already exist in the world."

"Such as?"

Y/N pulled her arm out from under the furs. She looked up at Matthias. "Are we friends?"

Matthias nodded. "We are."

Y/N nodded. She held her hand palm up and then made a scooping motion, her eyes closed. She felt Matthias stiffen as fire appeared in her hand, orange flames dancing around her fingers.

"It's not magic. I simply summon all the combustible gases in the world, for there are thousands, and fire appears." Y/N waved her hand and the fire vanished. She pulled her hand back inside the furs. "That's all it is. Small Science, as we call it. No magic."

Matthias nodded. He didn't seem to be able to speak. He eventually decided on what he wanted to say. "What was your nightmare about? Only if you want to tell me."

Y/N shifted closer to Matthias. "I'm sure you've heard of General Kirigan - or the Darkling."

"I think it'd be impossible to find someone in all of Ravka, Fjerda and beyond who hasn't heard of it."

"It?"

"It was not a man, nor a human. It is simply it."

Y/N smiled to herself. It slowly faded as she returned to her mind. "I was a Grisha under his orders when Sankt Alina first appeared. I was fresh out of school - a young Grisha desperate to prove herself. And he used me like he used hundreds of others. I was trapped under his control until King Nikolai broke us out.

"But the Darkling had done enough by then. Being used by him - controlled by him is something I do not wish to repeat. Sometimes in the night, I think I see him. I know he is long dead and burnt but... I hear his voice in the wind, I see his shadows in the darkness and all I can think about is what he did to me."

Matthias was silent. He knew about the Darkling. Everyone did. But very few knew about what it did to the young Grisha under its command.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, by the way," Y/N said quietly. "I feel like since I'm pouring my heart out to you, we should know each other's names."

Matthias smiled. "I'm Matthias Helvar."

Y/N nodded. She dropped her head onto Matthias' shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Matthias."

Matthias sat there, an arm around her shoulders, watching the flames dance away until morning came.

It took them five days to find civilisation. The snowstorm passed after three days and it took them two days of walking - and almost falling off a cliff - to reach safety.

The inn wasn't much - it was full of Fjerdan sailors on their way out or back from long trips out at sea. But it was warm and it was safe - for now.

"I don't know how I feel about stealing," Matthias said as Y/N unlocked the door to their room.

"I didn't steal, I borrowed," Y/N corrected, walking inside.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"Indirectly, yes."

Matthias laughed. Y/N stared at him.

"Saints, Matthias, I didn't know you could laugh!" She exclaimed.

Matthias chuckled as he took his coat off and sat down on the bed, stretching his legs out.

"It appears we have learnt a lot about each other this past week," he said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N approached him and sat down on his right, dropping her head to his shoulder. "You know, I have no idea what Roëd means."

"What?"

"The other night, when I was having a nightmare, you called me Roëd..."

Matthias' smile grew. "It means red in Fjerdan."

"Red? Why red?"

"Well, when we first met -"

"When you kidnapped me, you mean."

Matthias rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a red skirt, like the one you're wearing now. Since I didn't know your name... I thought Roëd was subtle."

Y/N nodded, a smile working its way onto her face. "I like it."

Matthias put his arm around Y/N's shoulders - an action he'd found himself doing numerous times over the past week. He ran his thumb up and down her arm, gently following an imaginary line.

"What will you do now?" Matthias asked quietly.

The question had been praying on his mind for days now. What happens next. He could easily go back to Brum, resume his training, tell his tale. Y/N could easily return to wherever she came from - carry on leaving her life. Nothing would change.

Except something had changed. The world had shifted. Just a bit, but enough to know that there was no going back to the before.

"Find a ship back to Ketterdam," Y/N said softly. Her left hand was entwined with his, her fingers playing with his. "Tell my boss what happened and hope he gives me my job back. What about you?"

"I don't know."

"Have I changed you that much, Druskelle?" Y/N asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

Matthias looked down at her. "Perhaps. What is... Ketterdam like?"

"First of all, excellent pronunciation," Y/N said, looking back down again. "Second of all, it's shit."

"Then why would you want to go back?"

"Because it was the only place to welcome me after I left Ravka. I fitted in seamlessly there. No questions were asked about me or my powers. I got a job and they treat me well. It works for me."

"I cannot imagine what it must be like to be... persecuted everywhere you go."

"Saints, I have changed you!" Y/N said, looking back at him. She smiled. "It's hard. Trusting people is harder. I haven't used my power in years as a result but... I prefer it that way, oddly. I was used and wanted for my power in Ravka. In Ketterdam I am just me. I'm just Y/N."

Matthias stared at the wall for a moment. "I'd like to go somewhere like that. Where it is simply just... you and I. Simply Y/N and Matthias."

"No prejudice."

"No hatred."

"Just us."

Matthias looked back at her and leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a kiss before she had a chance to move. He leant back and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'll miss this," Matthias said quietly, knowing deep down, that it would inevitably end as all good things did. "Us."

Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. "You know, Matthias, I could be in love with someone like you."

"I know. As could I."

And that was the truth. She could love him and he could love her. Despite the ways they'd been raised. Despite what they'd lived through and experienced at the hands of their people, both of them, Grisha and Druskelle, could and did love each other.

It was the truth and the pain of it. Knowing that their love was never meant to be.

And that it was never destined to last.

[flufflepuffle296]

“Chloe xxx”

I really want Chloé to get another redemption arc, but not because she wants to be Queen Bee again or prove herself to anyone-but because she wants to prove to herself that she can be as awesome as she wants. Also sorry but I rambled here.

I don’t even want it to start because of something big like being rejected or glares from classmates, it could just be she’s chilling in her room and she notices her butler flinching when she calls his name, or she’s watching a show and she wants to be just as cool as the main character, or even just looking around the class and just thinking “why not?”

She then starts calling her butler’s name a little sweeter, takes Sabrina out for coffee at her favourite café this time, pushes Alya’s bag towards her when it falls off the bench. She anonymously donates money to varying charities and doesn’t tell anyone about it. She feels warm when she does it-she doesn’t know why but it almost feels kind of nice. She begins working a shift or two here and there at the hotel. She smiles at Mylene when she walks in (even if she considers that outfit a crime against fashion), and returns pens when she borrows them. Nino loses a USB and Chloé helps in the search party for it (though does it secretly at break and lunch).

Becoming nice to Marinette is harder though. She decides however, that if she wants to be an ok person, she has to give everyone a chance, so buys a yard or two of a nice fabric the girl’s been eyeing for weeks, and posts it with a note signed “-C xxx”. It kind of feels a little nice when Marinette walks in in a pale pink beaded dress that isn’t totally horrible Chloé supposes.

She later realises that saying sorry is another thing she can do to become a better person, and she always kind of wanted to but was too prideful to do so-but no more! She apologises to butler Jean, saying that she’s sorry for screaming at him, firing him, everything.

She then apologises to Sabrina, for treating her as a slave and asking if she wanted to go to that film she’s been rambling about, since they always go for her choice. She also takes all of her homework back that Sabrina was doing for her, and starts working really hard on it.

She goes to the bakery later that week, and orders a large slice of cake, reasoning that she can’t be nice to others if she’s not being nice to herself, therefore she needs this chocolate cake. She then asks Sabine if she can go up to talk to Marinette, who is rather skeptical of her and only allows her in the dining room. She apologises for bullying her all those years, and hands her an envelope signed “-C xxx”. Marinette opens it, to find it full of cash that’s tied in small bundles with labels on.

“Homework soaked-age 7” €3

“Sketchbook ruined-age 10”. €18

“Teacher’s present destroyed-age 14”. €16

Everything she’s physically destroyed or ruined is accounted for and compensated. She then apologises for all the verbal abuse and mean comments, before asking for a truce. Marinette accepts, and points out that since they have a truce, she is obliged to inform Chloé that she has buttercream on her face.

A week later she gets all her homework back: B+, B, A-, B-, A+.

Not her usual report of full marks, but she’ll take it.

She starts working every night at the hotel, from 6pm till 10pm. She refuses to look it though-she is Chloé Bourgeois after all. Her uniform is spotless, her makeup is now impeccable (blue eyeshadow with pale lips? What was she thinking?), and she never has a hair out of place. She begins living on coffee-these grades aren’t going to raise themselves after all -and constantly has an energy drink in her bottle (not that the class is allowed to know that).

Grades: B+, A-, A, B, A+

Getting better...

Once in class, Rose slammed her head on the table (delicately? She somehow slammed her head DELICATELY?), and weeped that she didn’t understand the material. Chloé scribbled an explanation on a sheet of paper, and after class slipped it in Rose’s bag.

The next day, an akuma strikes near the school. They can’t leave because some kids live far away, and Bustier isn’t taking initiative and the class rep is no where to be found. Chloé bites her lip, before standing on the desk and clapping her hands. Once she has the class’ attention, she gives out instructions.

“KIM, IVAN! Grab heavy objects and block the doors. JULEKA, NINO, NATHANAEL! You can lock the windows since you’re the tallest. EVERYONE ELSE! Clear books away and any other things that could cause bruising if knocked over, put bags away, and hide under the desks and benches!”

Everyone stares at her.

“NOW!”

Everyone scrambled to their duties, before hiding under the desks, holding their heads like Chloé instructed.

Grades: A, A-, A+, B+, A+

Nearly there...

She informs her father that she’ll be leaving for a week next month, and tells Bustier and Damocles. She books a plane ticket to New York with her money from working, as well as a hotel room. She packs her bags and leaves, giving her dad a kiss and a hug beforehand and promising that she’ll be safe. She boards her plane and then hauls her bags up to her room, before making a call.

“Who is this?”

“Your daughter, Chloé.”

“I DON’T-oh you. Why have you called me I’m in the middle of working-shouldn’t you be at pre-K?”

“I’m 15 and French ma-but anyway, is it possible if you could promote Marinette’s website-MDC-in return I’ll work for you for free.”

“Oh yes Marinette-the exceptional one. How long will you work?”

“I’m only here a week-I’ll become your assistant even! I know you hate Stephanie.”

“...Fine. I’ll drop her into conversation at an interview if you’re only here a week. Now do not call me unless it’s an emergency. You start tomorrow-8am, sharp, in a fashionable outfit-or you’re fired.”

Chloé smiles as the line goes dead. Her mother may be a dragon, but Chloé can respect that she helps those she cares about.

Even if it isn’t her...

The next day she arrives at the office at 7:45, in a white suit with gold jewellery. Audrey nods, before sending her out with rapid instructions for coffee. Chloé takes her order to the café she requested, and starts reading it out to the barister, only for him to pale and interrupt her halfway through.

“Oh God-you’re ordering for Audrey aren’t you? Oh Lord-HEY AARON! STYLE QUEEN ORDER NO. 37! QUICK!”

The other worker, Aaron, goes white, before flipping every machine on and opening every can he can find in preparation.

“You must be her new assistant-good luck with her, the last one would come in to order her coffee and then sit in the corner and cry so much we set up her own space-look!” The first one says, pointing out to a comfy area of bean bags and pillows.

Chloé cringed. “Nah, worse. I’m her daughter, if you can even call me that, that’s interning for her in exchange for a favour.”

The barister pitied her. “Yikes.”

Chloé takes the coffee being thrusted at her and nods at the two, before sprinting back to the office.

After that week of hell, she still refuses to wear anything other than heels and designer clothes, and her hotel room is immaculate. She packs the night before, and sets off back to Paris in the morning.

MDC takes off after the Style Queen reccommended it briefly in an interview, and Chloé starts helping Marinette manage and organise commission dates and social media, eventually becoming her PR person/caffeination.

She starts working not only her 6pm-10pm shifts, but also a few shifts from 4am-7am a few times a week. She does her homework at lunch and as soon as she gets back from school, even doing it during akuma attacks. She gets through a concealer a week for her bags, and sleeps all weekend.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+.

Perfect.

...Or not...

She realises that she can’t maintain this. She can’t survive on 3 hours sleep and an unholy amount of caffeine. She cuts back on her shifts, doing 4 a week at most, and only does homework for a maximum of 2 hours a day. She starts, meditation and yoga, trying to keep her mind peaceful. She still donates to charities, and goes out with Sabrina and shops.

Grades: A, A, A, A, A.

Still pretty good, and she’s happy this time!

She begins doing things more for herself. She’s always wanted to learn Spanish after all. She hires a tutor, and starts working extremely hard to become as fluent as possible by the end of her education.

She learns conversational Spanish in about 6 months of semi-intensive learning, and decides to do something else as well. She starts learning Mandarin with Marinette, and struggles slightly more than she did with Spanish, but she’s still progressing.

She realises that she has a knack for learning languages, and picks more up more easily after she starts learning Spanish, Mandarin and later Portuguese.

One day when she’s out she comes across a homeless man, and offers him some money and brings him a hot meal. She sees others around him in the same situation, and does the same for them.

She then volunteers at the local soup kitchen, feeding hundreds of people on weekends and washing up afterwards. She connects with the homeless and a few refugees, and starts learning Arabic from one of the regulars, in return slipping her a few Euros (basically she gives her €250 every week).

She takes a shift at the bakery, manning the counter and becoming fast friends with Marinette as they practise their Mandarin on one another.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+

AND SHE’S HAPPY!!!

She eventually starts applying for universities, listing her abilities and experiences.

• A+ Student

• Volunteer

• Interned for Audrey Bourgeois

• Works at Boulangerie Patisserie

• Works at Le Grand Paris

• Fluent in Spanish, English and Mandarin, knows conversational Arabic and Portuguese, learning Polish.

The more she writes and thinks about the past 4 years, the more she comes to the realisation of

“Holy shit, I’m awesome. I’m an ok person. I’m a good person in fact. I’ve done good things. I’ve made a good impact on society. I did it. I DID IT!!! And I’m going to keep doing it-after all, I’m awesome and people rely on me, plus it makes me feel good. I’m no longer a spoilt 14 year old. I can be good. I am good. I am a good person.”

[hushedhands]

Challenge 80

Thank you for voting @thespianbooks​!! Since so much is happening in the world out there, I promise that absolutely nothing happens in this challenge! It’s just Maxerica and brand new baby Addy hanging out together, about a week before the beginning of the Postscript. 

“Then you twist it under.”

“Twist under…” Maxon’s tongue poked out of his lips as he focused hard. “Like that?”

“Yes.” America smiled over at him. She was feeding Addy, now a full four days old, from a bottle that she’d pumped earlier in the afternoon.

“And so then this part… it goes like that?”

“Tuck it under the middle part.” America corrected him.

“Blast.” Maxon had taken to using pseudo-swears in front of the baby so she wouldn’t ‘learn any bad habits from him’. It always made America giggle. “I can’t understand how you do this so quickly. You hands are a blur!” Maxon complained.

He’d caught America braiding her hair into pigtails to keep it out of her face, and more importantly out of baby Addy’s face, during their frequent feeding times together. It was a skill Maxon had never needed to acquire before, but now that he had a daughter, Maxon wanted to learn to braid so that he could fix her hair when she had enough of it to braid.

“I was slow at first, too!” America promised. “Kenna taught me to braid when I was six. Give your hands time to learn how to do it and eventually you’ll be able to braid anything you want without giving it a second thought.”

Maxon considered the three ribbons laid out before him as though studying a recovered text from a long-dead language. “Hmm…”

Baby Addy finished her bottle and gurgled contentedly.

“Here. Why don’t you take a break and burp the little dairy princess?” America offered.

Maxon’s face burst into an enormous grin as he pulled the baby, dressed in her cutest, softest little onesie, from America’s arms and onto his chest. He let her rest her little head on his shoulder while he looked around for a baby towel. He found one strung on a chair nearby and leaned way over to grab it without having to get up, then he repositioned the baby so that she was on the towel just in case she spat up any milk when she burped.

Then he started firmly patting her back.

Free from her bundle of joy, America stood and stretched, rubbing a hand over her soft belly out of habit. It looked like one of Gerad’s deflated soccer balls now, but it was still big enough that Astra occasionally asked America to please double-check that there weren’t any more babies inside.

America looked around the room at the unbelievable mess that had taken over the family room. Maxon had asked the maids to only come when they were summoned instead of doing their usual daily cleaning rounds. It meant the new little royal family had lots of time to themselves, but the result was that a tornado of baby clothes, towels, bags of unused diapers, bottle cleaners, breast pumps, and soft toys had wrecked their once tidy home. And America knew, without a doubt, that this was what heaven looked like.

Even though the baby wasn’t even a week old, and she definitely couldn’t respond socially to anything America or Maxon did to her, she already seemed to have such a personality. She grunted and cooed and waved her little fists in the air, and made perfect eye contact with whoever was feeding her. America could swim in those grey eyes forever.

“Hungry, Maxon?” America asked, snapping out of her dazed thoughts about her daughter when her stomach growled.

“Sure, I could eat. Would you call down to the kitchens?”

“Way ahead of you.” America was already halfway to the telephone in Maxon’s bedroom. The Palace chef had been feeding the two of them very well since the Addy had been born. They always ate well, so maybe she was reading too much into it, but America felt spoiled by the Palace staff who were all so excited to have a brand new royal baby in residence.

“What do you think we shall feast on tonight, little girl?” Maxon asked the princess on his chest. “Perhaps something warm and cozy, like soup?”

Baby Addy burped and Maxon grinned, “Of course, your order is for milk, milk, and more milk. Don’t worry my little love, we’ve got you covered.”

“We?” America asked, listening to the telephone ring. “Don’t overpromise, Maxon, I can only make so much milk at a time.”

Maxon hid Addy’s little ears so she wouldn’t overhear America’s words and become afraid that there might be a milk famine.

That was one thing America wasn’t struggling with, much to her relief. She’d heard horror stories from women at her clinics that sometimes milk was slow to come, or when it finally did, their babies wouldn’t latch on and drink it. Each clinic’s formula cupboards, which were kept stocked for those women, literally saved the lives of their babies. But Addy and America were off to a great start, milk-wise, and America was endlessly grateful for their luck.

After alerting the kitchens that the King and Queen were ready for dinner, America rejoined her husband on the sofa and ran a hand through his golden hair, dragging her fingernails along his scalp. “Is she ready for a nap?”

“Hmm…” Maxon lowered the baby from his shoulder, now that she was done burping, and examined her little face. Wide, grey eyes blinked up at him. “I think she just wants to be held for a little bit.”

“Oh goodness, if only she had someone who wanted to hold her.” America smirked sarcastically. She and Maxon had a large rotation of baby-holders who would come take care of the baby for five or six hours at a time to allow America plenty of time to rest while she recovered from giving birth, and Maxon plenty of time to rest from taking care of his recovering wife and infant daughter.

Magda was always first, claiming her right as Gramma, and then May would show up next. They also had the help of Kenna as Addy’s official royal nanny, though she wouldn’t become a full-time employee of the Palace until America was back at work. Mary and Paige each spent chunks of their free time in the evenings or hours of their weekends doting on the new baby, refusing to accept payment for their time even though their presence meant America and Maxon got an extra nap. All in all, America felt incredibly loved and supported, and her thoughts often turned to the women in Illéa who did this without the help of husbands or family or chefs or maids. She’d do it for Addy, there was no question, but America couldn’t even properly imagine how hard it would be.

“Here, I need to keep practicing.” Maxon returned their soft, chubby little angel to America so that he could return to braiding the ribbons. America peppered Addy’s belly with kisses and was rewarded with a squirm: their new baby girl was ticklish.  

America leant her head on Maxon’s shoulder, peering lazily down at his work, holding Addy securely across her lap.

It was not possible for life to get any better than this.

After dinner that night, America was feeling energetic enough to wrap everyone up in warm clothes and take a stroll through the gardens. Maxon held baby Addy, swaddled in a tremendously fluffy blanket, all the way down stairs with one of his hands firmly gripping the railing just in case. America was glad to know that he had somewhere else to put his worry now, and she tiptoed behind them with both hands stuffed into her coat pocket, living life dangerously and thrilled at not getting caught by her husband.

They kept a stroller by the door for their many garden walks. It was the only place they’d gone since entering their suite after introducing Addy to the Kingdom a few days before. Now, on a dark, wintery December night, everything in the gardens was beautiful. Only the winter flowers were in bloom, but somehow the earth still smelled rich and alive.

“Addy’s going to be so surprised when spring comes.” America smiled.

Maxon paused pushing Addy in her stroller to kiss America on the lips and then said, “She won’t know what’s hit her. The flowers blooming. The bees buzzing.”

“And this summer, when we start taking her to the swimming pool…” America grinned.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t wait to see her first swimming suit. Astra’s have these cute little skirts attached. Will hers have a little skirt?” Maxon asked eagerly.

“Yes, absolutely.”

Maxon chuckled, “I always thought my life was going to be spent in war rooms, making tough decisions about troop movements and scarce resources. Now all I’m doing is imagining baby clothes and learning to braid.”

“Mmm.” America smiled happily down at their little bird, now snoozing peacefully on her ride. “Let’s never, ever go back to work.”

“Oh? You think we can just barricade ourselves in the Palace forever?”

“Yes.”

“And what happens when the people choose a new royal family?”

“They can take the second floor.”

“And when the chefs refuse to feed us any longer because we’re no longer King and Queen?”

America made an overly dramatic shocked face at Maxon, “They would never do such a thing. They love Addy and me too much.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Maxon allowed with a grin. “In that case, we must start our lives as ordinary citizens at once.”

“Ordinary citizens claiming squatter’s rights in a palace.” America corrected him.

“Yes, of course.” he agreed. “What’s the first item on your agenda, non-queen America?”

“As Squatter Mer, I declare that we must choose a normal name for Adrienne, something distinct and ordinary.”

“Well, as Squatter Max, I must voice my concerns.”

“Oh?”

“I believe she will have to choose her normal name for herself, just as we chose our names when we started playing castaways.” Maxon reminded America.

“But it will be years before she can name herself. What can we call our Squatter Daughter in the mean time?”

“Squatter Daughter. That’s her name.” he declared.

“Oh no. Adrienne, I am so sorry for your terrible play name my love.” America giggled down at her sleeping baby.

Addy was a good sport, though. She played along and let them call her “Squatter Daughter” until the air grew too chilly on her nose and she cried out in complaint. The game ended and the royal family returned to their suite for the night.

Maxon and America made a nest of blankets in Maxon’s bed and relaxed there while Addy rested cozily in a bassinet within reach. When America fell asleep that night, she was curled up on her husband’s chest listening to it vibrate as he hummed a lullaby for their baby. When Maxon woke up a few hours later to Addy’s hungry crying, he drifted back off listening to America hum songs while she fed the baby. Just like that, Maxon and America took turns singing each other to sleep all night.

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze pt. 9/25

Previous

The winter holidays were a chaotic affair for the wolf pack. Since their own families were a mess it had become tradition to come together as a team and spend the Solstice as one big found family. This year was extra special because it was Ciri’s first winter with them and her first without her own family. This year was Lambert’s turn to host and he was going to make damned sure it was the best Solstice that the team had ever had.

The only problem was his cooking skills.

Cooking had never been his strong point.

When he’d lived with his brother, Eskel had done most of the cooking in the house and had developed quite a passion for it. So Lambert, like any good younger sibling, had quite happily taken advantage of every second of it. Of course, once living together had reached boiling point and they’d decided it was best for everyone to move apart, Lambert’s quality of diet had dropped considerably. He now lived on ready meals and takeaways most of the time, unless Eskel took pity on him, which happened on a fairly regular basis.

He stared at the cook book in front of him. The woman on front was smiling brightly in a sunlit kitchen and holding a ridiculously picturesque pie.

“Fuck it.” Lambert growled as he flipped through the pages to the right section.

He’d brought all the right ingredients and he’d carefully written down all the timings for everything, just like he’d seen Eskel do in the past. He read through the recipe for the roast lamb a couple more times before tying an apron round his waist and pulling his hair back into a bun.

“Cooking. I can do this. Easy as pie!” He grumbled as he pulled the ingredients from the fridge.

Today was all about prep, chopping veg and potatoes ready for cooking tomorrow, baking cookies for snacks during the day. He was also making an onion soup to start with that could be reheated tomorrow. He grabbed his peeler and stared down at the sack of potatoes.

There were so many fucking potatoes.

He was going to be here all day.

He should probably ask for help. Eskel always called him and Renfri round to help chop shit up.

“Fuck off, I don’t need help.” He grumbled and got to work with the potatoes.

He was about three potatoes in when he decided he was going to die of boredom. He washed the starch off his hands and put on some music. The sound of acoustic guitar filled the kitchen. It was some unknown folk band that he’d discovered online by chance, called Dandelion and the Bards. The two lead singers Dandelion and Priscilla harmonised so perfectly that it was like they’d almost been born to sing together.

He spent the next hour or so dancing around his kitchen with the potato peeler and singing along to the songs. The music was so loud he almost didn’t hear the doorbell. He paused, turned the music off and dumped the potato in the bucket of water.

The doorbell went off another three times in quick succession.

Eskel.

“I’m coming you ass!” He called out as the doorbell continued to ring.

He swung the door open with more force than necessary and glared at his brother who was grinning back at him. Geralt was stood behind him with Ciri perched on his shoulders. Geralt raised an eyebrow at his appearance and Lambert looked down at his starch covered apron. He huffed but didn’t say anything, for Ciri’s sake.

“Ah Ciri! Hello little lion cub!” He waved the peeler at the young girl and then paused. “Wait. What day is it?”

“Don’t panic, you big lump. We’re here to help.” Eskel pulled him into a hug and thumped him on the back.

“Oh. Yeah. Well I have it all under control.” He growled.

“Nice singing.” Geralt said with a smirk.

He felt his cheeks heat up, damned ginger complexion. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Sooo… what’s the plan of attack?” Eskel asked as he pushed through into the house. “Apart from putting the heating on. It’s freezing in here!”

Lambert shrugged. “Kitchen’s hot.”

The four of them made their back into the kitchen. Eskel pulled out a bundle of aprons from his rucksack and a cloth carrier that contained his set of actually sharp knives. It took about three minutes to delegate the tasks between the four of them. Eskel was in charge of marinading the lamb and making sure it was properly trimmed and ready to go in the oven. Lambert was to finish the potatoes and start on the veg. Geralt and Ciri would be on cookies. It was a tad cramped in his kitchen with all four of them working together and they almost crashed into each other at every turn but they were laughing and chatting away.

It was actually sort of fun.

He was starting to understand why Eskel enjoyed cooking so much.

They sorted out a game plan for the next day. Eskel went through his list of times and corrected any mistakes. Honestly, how was he supposed to know you were meant to let the lamb rest out of the oven after cooking. Surely that just made the food go cold. He hated cold food but Eskel insisted it would be ok but they had to make sure the plates were heated. In the morning Ciri and Lambert would make cinnamon buns together for team breakfast, Eskel would be in charge of the savoury snacks and salad, and Geralt would make the mulled wine and hot spiced apple juice for Ciri.

That way Lambert wouldn’t be stuck in the kitchen for the whole day and he’d actually get to spend some time with the wolf pack. He breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed down onto the sofa with a beer in his hand. Ciri was sat by his feet with a glass of chocolate milk and Geralt and Eskel were lounged out on the arm chairs.

“See that wasn’t so bad.” Eskel grinned.

“I would have been fine.” He growled back.

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Seemed like you were having a party in there before we arrived.”

He shrugged. “I like to cook to music.”

Eskel almost choked on his beer. “You don’t like to cook.”

He growled. “I do too!”

“You never once cooked!”

“Only because I knew you liked it so much!” He shot back.

“I had fun!” Ciri announced loudly. “Even if Dad did drop flour in my hair.”

“Sorry, Princess.” Geralt grumbled.

“It’s ok! I blame Uncle Lambert! He crashed into you.”

Geralt laughed. “I blame Uncle Lambert too.”

“So what was the music you were listening to, Uncle Lambert?” Ciri asked as she wiped chocolate milk off her nose.

Lambert chuckled as she scrunched her nose up. She still managed to miss a huge smear of chocolate that was on her cheek. He wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to get chocolate that far away from her mouth. Geralt sighed at went to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to help her clean up.

“A band I found on the internet.” Lambert smiled. “You wanna hear some of their stuff?”

Ciri nodded enthusiastically. “Yes please! Dad get off!” She squirmed as Geralt attacked her with the kitchen roll.

“Mucky cub.” He laughed.

“I can do it myself!” She squealed and grabbed for the paper towel. Geralt let her take it and she scrubbed ferociously at her face until she was sure it was all clean. “Good?”

“Perfect.” He ruffled her hair fondly and she grumbled under her breath like an angry kitten.

Lambert went to get his phone so he could put his music back on. The melodic tones of Dandelion’s guitar filled the room. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Eskel chirped up.

“Thought you liked the heavy metal stuff.”

Lambert shrugged. “I’m a man of many tastes.”

“I like it!” Ciri agreed. “Sounds like Mr Jaskier’s playing.”

Eskel and Lambert both rolled their eyes at that. They heard enough about Jaskier from Geralt at work. They had almost forgotten that it was all because Ciri was just as fond of her teacher.

The first song was sung almost entirely by Priscilla. It was a soft heartbreaking number that always left him feeling emotionally strung out. It was only about halfway through that he remembered the cursing and he coughed loudly over the swear words earning a glare from Geralt. Ciri didn’t seem to notice though, thankfully.

The next song began just as quietly on the guitar but this was one of Dandelion’s. The moment he started to sing, Ciri began to scream excitedly and Geralt spat a mouthful of beer out onto the floor.

“Mr Jaskier!!” Ciri shrieked.

“Calm down, Cub.” Geralt spluttered. “I’m sure it just sounds like him.”

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a despairing look.

“No!” Ciri stomped. “It is him!”

Geralt looked at Lambert with a fierce glare. “What the hell, Lambert?”

He put his hands up in defence. “Woah now. I didn’t know anything about Ciri’s teacher.”

“Jaskier isn’t exactly a common name.” Geralt challenged angrily.

“Exactly!” Lambert cried. “It’s not Jaskier!”

“It is!” Ciri demanded with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Well what’s the band called?” Eskel asked as he scooped Ciri up into a hug.

“Dandelion and the Bards!” Lambert exclaimed. “Not Jaskier. The guy singing is Dandelion.”

“No!!” Ciri cried.

“Ciri, Princess.” Geralt said calmly and tried to smooth the young girl’s hair as she squirmed in Eskel’s arms.

“No!!” She repeated.

Lambert sighed and turned the music off. “I’m sorry Ciri. It doesn’t say anything about any Jaskier.”

But it didn’t matter. Ciri was having a meltdown. No matter what they did or said helped her to calm down and in the end Geralt had to bundle the screaming girl into the car with the promise that they would email Mr Jaskier about the band. Eskel left soon afterwards with the excuse that his goat needed feeding and Lambert was left alone once more.

“Ah blessed peace.” He sighed happily as he watched Eskel amble down the road towards his own house.

__________

For the second day in the row, Lambert’s kitchen was covered in flour. Ciri’s hair was now as white as her father’s and her fingers were covered in sticky cinnamon sugar. Lambert’s shirt was covered in tiny floury handprints from where Ciri had hug attacked him, her tantrum from the previous day now a distant memory. He’d reluctantly made sure to uncheck all of Dandelion’s songs from his Solstice playlist. He would miss the calming melodies of his favourite band but it was not worth another screaming match from the youngest wolf cub.

Ciri was dancing happily in the middle of the kitchen. She twirled and leapt about effortlessly with all the energy of a six year old. She was incredibly graceful and Lambert wondered whether Geralt had secretly enrolled her in some sort of dance lessons. That was a thing girls did right? He groaned as he thought about his present for Ciri. He’d probably completely fucked up. He’d bought her a wooden sword and matching bow and arrow set, something he’d always wanted as a kid but never had the good fortune to receive. Ciri would like that right?

He ran a hand through his own hair with a sigh. How the fuck was the White Wolf raising a daughter? It seemed like only yesterday they were all just getting pissed at the pub after every shift. Lambert had to admit. Geralt had guts. He would probably have had a meltdown if the task had been left to him but Geralt seemed to have taken to it pretty well.

“Uncle Lambert!!” Ciri giggled excitably.

“Yeah?” He scowled at her mischievous grin.

“You made your hair all white!” She pointed up at him.

He looked down at his hands in horror and sure enough they were covered in sticky floury dough.

“Fudge.” He caught the swear just in time.

“You look like Dad!” Ciri exclaimed as she spun round in a pirouette.

“So do you!” He shot back.

“Do not!”

“Do too!” He argued and scooped her up into his arms. “And I’m right because I’m the adult!”

“That’s not true!” Ciri countered. “Mr Jaskier says even adults make mistakes!”

“Mr Jaskier hasn’t met me.” He growled.

Ciri laughed. “Yes he has! See you made a mistake!”

“I was testing you.” He grumbled and flushed as he realised the young girl was right. He had met Jaskier at the school back in October.

“Suuure.” Ciri sang. “Now let me down! I want to open my presents!”

Lambert chuckled and dropped the girl gently back on the ground. She sped off out of the kitchen like a blur. It was almost certainly a mistake letting her dip her fingers in the butter and sugar. He grinned. The sugar crash was Geralt’s problem. He was the fun uncle and got to enjoy eating sugar out of the pot. He squatted in front of the oven to check on their creation. The warmth seeped right into his bones and he hummed contentedly. It had been a cold couple of weeks and there was just something unsurpassable about the glow of a warm oven, especially when it contained baked goods. The kitchen was full of the smell of baking and cinnamon, the perfect scent for the winter holidays.

“Wolf!” Vesemir barked from the doorway sternly.

Lambert looked up sharply and almost toppled over from his squat.

“Exactly how much sugar did you give the cub?” Vesemir muttered wearily. “She’s bouncing off the walls.”

Lambert shrugged. “It’s Solstice. Give her a break.”

“Smells good.” Vesemir nodded at the oven with a softening smile. “We’ll make a chef out of you yet.”

Soon enough the oven timer went off and the kitchen was crowded by hungry firefighters. Vesemir ordered them to queue up properly and in no time they were all crammed into the living room. The fireplace was lit and crackling. Ciri stared into the flames, mesmerised by the ever changing patterns of the fire licking up the chimney. Lil’ Bleater was curled up next to her licking at her hands. Geralt had put on a pan of mulled wine and a smaller pan of spiced apples juice for his daughter and the spicy scents had permeated the air. It was warmth and homely. Lambert grinned as he looked around at his family. He’d never felt so at home in his house before.

“Presents!” Ciri demanded as she tore her gaze away from the fireplace. Her face was now covered in icing and crumbs, and her emerald eyes seemed to dance in the light of the fire.

The sound of laughter filled the air. Renfri and Vesemir got to work distributing the presents until everyone had a pile. Naturally the young girl launched towards the biggest present but Geralt had her in his arms before she could tear the brown paper off.

“Dad!” She whined and struggled to get free.

“That one is last.” He ordered. “Promise me?”

She glared furiously at the floor but mumbled an agreement under her breath.

“Good.” He let her go and she picked up the smallest present instead. She looked up at Geralt to make sure it was ok and he nodded with a small smile.

Ciri tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a small jewellery box. She opened it with an adorable confused expression on her face.

“Did you check who it was from?” Vesemir asked.

“Sure.” Ciri growled but Lambert didn’t miss the way she sneaked a glance at the shreds of wrapping paper on her lap that were already being chewed up by Eskel’s demon goat. “Auntie Yen!”

“What is it, Princess?” Geralt asked.

“A necklace, with a bird!” She held the box up to Geralt.

“Looks like a swallow.” Geralt mused.

“That’s what Uncle Vesemir calls me!” Ciri exclaimed happily. “Help me put it on!” She thrust the box into his hands.

Geralt fumbled a bit with the clasp but wouldn’t let Renfri help him and eventually Ciri had a beautiful silver necklace around her neck. The swallow pedant was embedded with what looked like emeralds, and knowing Yennefer, they actually were emeralds.

Most of Lambert’s presents were new pieces of gym kit which suited him just fine. His old boxing gloves had sorely needed replacing so he was very pleased with Renfri’s gift. Although he knew it was probably so they would have an excuse to spar again without him blaming his gloves every time he lost. Vesemir had bought him a new set of guitar strings and a subscription to his favourite boxing magazine, Eskel and Geralt had come together to get him a brand new set of weights, one’s he’d been eyeing up for months but hadn’t been able to justify the costs. Yennefer’s gift was bottle of very expensive vodka that he’d had once in a bar on holiday and had never forgotten. Ciri had bought him a DVD of a film they’d watched together in the summer and a box of his favourite chocolates.

Vesemir had a brand new collection of history and gardening books. He was settled into his arm chair closest to the fireplace with his nose buried in one the books. Next to him was a crystal whiskey glass that Yennefer had bought him. The damned witch seemed to be intent on showing them all up this year with her fancy job and her even fancier salary but who was he to complain?

Eskel had his arms full of new goat supplies from most of team. He turned round to show the little bastard his new stuff when they realised he was missing.

“Where’s Lil’ Bleater?” Eskel frowned as he looked around the room.

Lambert shrugged. The last he’d seen of the goat he’d been munching on brown wrapping paper. Ciri leapt to her feet and started looking for clues to track the goats movements. Something she’d seen on one of her tv shows.

“How about the kitchen?” Geralt suggested. “Goats like food right?”

“Everyone likes food.” Renfri poked the silver-haired man in the arm. “We sort of need it to survive.”

“Goats really like food though.” Geralt insisted.

“Goats eat anything.” Lambert countered. “He could just as well be in the bathroom by that logic.”

“Well I’ve looked under all the wrapping paper and sofas so he’s not in here!” Ciri chimed up from where she was buried half under cushions and half under brown paper. “Oooh what if we track his smell? Lil’ Bleater stinks!”

Eskel gasped at the accusation. “He’s a very clean goat! I take good care of him.”

“There’s a reason Vesemir bought you fancy pet shampoo.” Lambert smirked and punched his brother in the arm.

“Shut it.” Eskel grumbled. “He’s a handsome boy.”

“Who stinks!” Ciri agreed.

“I still think we should try the kitchen.” Geralt insisted and then paused looking at Ciri thoughtfully. “I think I can smell goat from that direction.”

Ciri squealed and ran into the kitchen. “Fucking liar.” Lambert hissed under his breath earning a smirk from Geralt.

They trudged after the young girl. There was no obvious sign of the goat but Lambert could hear a strange scuffling sound coming from the oven.

“He wouldn’t jump in a hot oven would he?” Lambert asked.

Ciri yelled at him for that and hit him squarely in the chest with her wooden sword. Lambert seized the opportunity to fall dramatically to his knees, pretending to be fatally wounded. He let some of his weight fall onto Ciri who shrieked underneath him.

“Uncle Lambert!”

“You got me real good, little lion cub.” He groaned as she tried to hold back his weight. He was still supporting himself enough that she wouldn’t get hurt but she didn’t need to know that. “This might just be my last day in this world.”

“Get off!” Ciri growled. “I didn’t hurt you!”

“I am wounded!” He fell to the floor and pulled her down on top of him.

“You’re an asshole.” Ciri grumbled and there was an echo of shocked gasps from the adults in the  room. “What? It’s not a swear!”

“And it’s true.” Eskel added.

“It is true.” Geralt agreed.

Lambert glared at them both. “Screw you.”

“You’re awfully loud for someone who just died.” Renfri pointed out and he had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t swear colourfully at her.

“Yeah! I told you I didn’t hurt you!” Ciri poked his chest.

A loud bleating ended the argument there.

“Lil’ Bleater!” Eskel cried happily.

Seconds later the a fluffy horned head poked out from under the oven. Lambert hadn’t even realised the gap between the oven and his kitchen floor was big enough for the goat to hide under. He was only a little goat but still it seemed like an impossible accomplishment.

Eskel picked up his beloved pet and swung him round in a big hug. “I missed you buddy! No hiding under ovens again, alright?”

The goat bleated.

“I know, I know. The oven smells of yummy food but you could have been hurt!” Eskel continued.

“Melitele save us.” Renfri sighed and topped up her mulled wine from the pan before stalking back into the lounge. So they could finish unwrapping the presents.

Eskel clipped on Lil’ Bleaters brand new collar and kept the mischievous goat in his lap as he unwrapped his last present, petting his sandy white fur absentmindedly.

Lambert had bought his brother a new cookbook that he was absolutely not allowed to open in front of Ciri. The names of the recipes were all very crude and there were pictures to match. Eskel had barely removed the paper before bundling it into his bag. His face flushed with embarrassment as Lambert cackled until his stomach began to ache. Ciri obviously asked what the big joke was and Eskel grumbled some lame excuse that made no sense. Luckily Ciri seemed content to let it go as long as she could open her next present. Vesemir had bought her a collection of new books after hearing so much about her love of school and reading. Some of them were a little hard for her age but Geralt would be able to read them with her.

Renfri only had two presents. Ciri had bought her a leather bracelet with wolves stitched into the band chasing each other’s tails all around the strap and howling at some unseen moon. The wolf pack and Yennefer had all teamed up to get her a decorative dagger that she’d seen at a craft fair over the summer. It was a beautiful blade, engraved with some kind of fantastical elven language and there was a stunning moonstone embedded into the hilt. It had been extortionately expensive but between the lot of them they had managed to afford it. Renfri’s eyes had lit up when she’d ripped the paper off the box, not quite believing it until she’d carefully lifted off the lid with shaking hands.

“There’s no way.” She whispered and then pulled them into a group hug. Even Vesemir put his book down to pat her awkwardly on the back. The blade fell from her lap with a clatter but thankfully she hadn’t quite managed to unsheathe it.

Ciri pouted at the sudden outburst of emotion but Renfri pulled her into the hug as well. “Your’s was better obviously! You’re the only person to get me their own present. These guys cheated.”

Ciri preened at that and stuck her tongue out at the rest of them.

The hug fell apart when Lil’ Bleater head butted Eskel in the back and they all toppled in a pile on the floor, much to the oldest wolf’s amusement. After that it was Ciri’s turn to open another present. Renfri bought her a new colouring book with glittery pens that Ciri loved. She had a strange obsession with anything glittery. The young girl declared it was because glitter was obviously magical and the rest of the team just couldn’t understand its power.

Geralt’s presents were all of a practical nature, a new toolbox from Vesemir, a couple of new shirts from Yennefer with a letter telling him that he had to wear them or else she would know. Ciri giggled at that but Geralt just looked at the freshly pressed black shirts in disgust. He was definitely more of a baggy t-shirt kind of guy but at least Yennefer hadn’t strayed from his usual colour scheme. Renfri had bought him some new stirrups for Roach. Lambert had bought him a new pair of boots after Geralt had complained about his old ones leaking following a particularly rainy shift at work. Eskel had made a picture frame filled with photographs of their little family. He’d even included a picture of Ciri with her parents and grandparents. The whole team had gotten a little sniffly at that one. Ciri was still yet to get off of Eskel’s lap and had promptly decided that he was the best uncle.

Geralt also had another present in the form of an envelope that he tucked into the pocket of his jeans. Lambert raised an eyebrow at that but Geralt just shrugged it off.

After Geralt’s presents Ciri was the only one with any presents left. She got a new wolf onesie from Eskel, further cementing his place as favourite uncle, much to Lambert’s displeasure. He vowed to make up for it on her birthday. He hated it when Eskel got one up on him.

And then it was time for Ciri’s last present and the last present of the day before they had to get busy in the kitchen for dinner.

She pulled at the paper excitedly and screamed when the guitar case fell into her lap.

“You got me a guitar!!” She shrieked.

Geralt winced at the high pinched tone of her voice and Lambert didn’t blame him. He was sitting across the room and even his ears were ringing. Geralt shook his head. “I got you a Ukulele.”

“A ukulele?” Ciri scrunched her nose up. “Does Mr Jaskier play the Ukulele?”

Geralt nodded. “He can. He thought it might be a better fit for you. It’s like a mini guitar and you’ve still got little hands. There’s some music in there too. Once you learn you’ll be able to read it just like Mr Jaskier.”

“Will he teach me?” Ciri asked brightly and Geralt shook his head.

“Jaskier won’t have much time outside of class to teach you but he has recommended a friend of his.” Geralt explained but Ciri was already scowling.

“I want Mr Jaskier to teach me!” She pouted.

“I’m sure if you ask nicely he can show you some things at school?” Eskel suggested.

“And you wouldn’t want to upset his friend.” Vesemir added from his place at the fireplace.

“Her name is Priscilla and she’s very excited to meet you. You’ll be starting lessons after school when term starts.” Geralt pulled his daughter into a hug.

Lambert almost dropped his mug of mulled wine.

“Sorry what?”

Everyone turned to face him with matching confused expressions on their faces.

“Lessons are after school?” Geralt repeated, raising his eyebrow at Lambert.

“No no… What was her name?” Lambert’s hands were trembling around his mulled wine.

“Priscilla?” Geralt repeated slowly. “He didn’t mention her last name.”

“Fuck!” He cursed.

Ciri gasped and pointed her finger accusingly at him and everyone in the room glared fiercely at him.

“Dandelion is Jaskier!” He yelled out to try and defend himself.

Ciri squealed happily and all the colour drained from Geralt’s face at the revelation.  

“What the fuck, Lambert?”

______

Next

[fuwafuwamedb]

The Smoking Caster and His Charge PT 2 (Waver, Child Hakuno)

Previously: One 

__

Hauling his master out of the warehouse was one thing, but finding a direction and a place to go was quite another.

The world was a dazzling, peaceful early twenty first century, before the fifth war obviously. The lack of phones and joggers said that much. The closeness of crowds and the lack of care for hygiene also said it was early on. Several people were walking out of fast food places, gossiping about things that he’d vaguely remembered hearing about.

It didn’t make sense for him to be here.

He couldn’t explain it.

However, he was here. The fourth war was about to begin and his master was a tiny wisp of a thing, wiggling around until she could sit upright in his arms and hold onto his shoulders.

“Greeny, I’m hungry.”

“I am not Greeny, I am… Caster. Call me Caster.”

“Caster, I’m hungry.”

Of all the things in this world that he needed right now, it was for them to get caught in some fast food place because his master was hungry and they didn’t have a hiding place yet. He needed to get them somewhere low and out of the way. Then and only then would food be acceptable.

“Caster…”

The girl leaned forward, pressing a hand to his face.

“Your face wrinkles a lot.”

“Excuse me?”

“It wrinkles. You can see the lines a lot right here,” she told him, pressing her hands to his forehead.

How did anyone handle children?

He was already done with this whole situation. They had things to be doing, important wartime things. They needed shelter and they needed to plan. The other servants around were going to get after them and things weren’t going to end well if they were only worried about filling her stomach.

“We will eat later,” he told her, avoiding the urge to chastise her again. “Good girls know we have better things to do than fill our bellies.”

“O-okay…”

A loud rumbling met his ears.

His master squirmed.

She’d be fine for a while.

Children were pretty resilient. His students had taught him that. Endless bundles of energy, they’d always been racing around his person, insisting on accompanying him and getting into all kinds of situations. He had no doubt that this girl probably had all their energy as well.

Still, it was nice when she settled.

The paths of Fuyuki were the same as before. Same winding back roads, same lamps that were out here and there with no reasoning behind them whatsoever, same carefully cleaned up downtown; he carried his master for a while, looking over the area with mounting pressure coming to his chest.

This was the fourth grail war.

“Master.”

Waver glanced down, pausing near one of the little inns on the outskirts of town.

“Master, do you have money?”

The girl’s face was pale.

Oh no…

“Master?!”

Waver settled the girl onto a nearby bench, pulling his coat from his person and wrapping it around her quickly. His hands brushed against her forehead, his eyes widening as he found himself pulling his hand away from the scorching feeling. Pale features, hot temperature, hunger; his master was sick.

How did I not see that?!

This was bad.

This was incredibly bad.

He looked around, shifting on his feet as his eyes fell back to the girl on the bench.

She needed a bed. She needed food. He needed to be carrying her somewhere where she could get the attention and care that she needed. While they did need a hiding place, one would be useless if she was-

No, pull yourself together.

“I’m too old for this,” Waver breathed, pulling his master over his shoulder.

He slipped into the inn, walking to the stairs and mounting the steps up to the second floor. His eyes scanned the various doors before he settled for a room at the very end of the hall.

It’d be stupid, but-

Tonight only.

His lockpick was pulled from his pocket, managing the old fashioned locks and slipping inside so he could deposit his master in the empty room. He grabbed a pen, moving back into the hall and beginning to write along the walls.

Illusionary magic was tricky. At best, he was just diverting their attention away from the fact that the last room in the hall existed. With it being a dark night, it meant that he didn’t have to worry about being too precise about the illusion in terms of light refraction. He couldn’t manage that well.

The illusion was up.

He moved to the stairs, slipping back down and dematerializing so he could slip into the inn’s kitchen. He poured a bowl of soup from one of the pots on the stove. He grabbed some bread and cheese from another counterspace. The fridge had juice, leaving him to take the whole container for his master alongside a cup.

He raided.

It wasn’t like he had the money to purchase these things. If his master did, then perhaps tomorrow they could leave a tip. For now, the goal was survival.

The room, when he returned, was too quiet.

His findings went to the nightstand. His arms pulled his little master upright, propping her against his chest.

“…Greeny?”

“I am- Yes, it’s greeny.” Waver poured the juice first, bringing the cup carefully to her lips. “You are sick, master.”

“It’s Hakuno,” she murmured.

“Hakuno… Sounds like the heroine in a video game.” He leaned in closer, nudging the cup against her lips a little more. “We need to put something in your stomach.”

“I’m really hungry,” the girl murmured again.

“I know.”

“It’s been a while. I ate some of those plants yesterday. My mom said you’re not supposed to eat the ones with spots but…”

“Drink.”

He needed to get some soup in her next.

She leaned against him for a long time, coming in and out of consciousness. The fever wasn’t helping with getting food into her. The bread was nearly impossible. The soup, a herculean task.  Every second of this, he found himself trying harder to accomplish this goal.

If she lived, then they could ally with his past self.

If she survived the night, he could make sure she had more good food. Real food.

“I don’t want to sleep,” the girl breathed, stirring once more as Waver gave up on feeding her any further. “You’re the nicest person in the world, Greeny.”

“I’ll stay here.”

“All night?”

“You are my master, Hakuno,” Waver reminded her. “Where you go, I will go too.”

“Greeny?”

“Hmm?”

“You have kind eyes.”

The girl gave him a soft smile before closing her eyes again. Whatever strength she’d had, it was clear that this was as far as it could take her. At least now, with food and drink in her stomach and a warm bed to help with keeping her warm, she could possibly beat this flu of hers.

You have kind eyes.

He couldn’t help but to scratch at his neck a bit over that line.

His eyes were nothing of the sort.

He needed a cigarette.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.8

Shopping with Shiro was god awkward. Being a local, everyone was too damn cheerful as they did polite thing and say hello, some asking who Shiro was, and another pondering the question which would lead to rumours at a later date. Lance didn’t like to brag, but he was pretty well known in Garrison for making a “haunted house” his home. There weren’t any ghosts there, only the long dead skeletons of rats and mice, and the occasional spot of mould. He was also well known as being a bit “odd”, 26 with no partner struck some of the older community as a bit strange, as did the fact that he’d live in such a large home alone. Still, Lance blended himself in as seamlessly as he could. Earlier in the year he’d thought about picking up a few shifts at a local bar, only to change his mind over the fear of somehow cutting him and cursing the local drunks. Plus, people really sucked when they were drunk. He was more than likely to blow a fuse if he had to be flirted with every single damn shift simply because he looked at the peak of his youth.

Sticking to his usual routine of picking random things that he knew he could make a meal from, he found himself schooling Shiro in the ways of bulk savings, and discount brands. Shiro didn’t know how to process that he was a vampire who ate garlic... other foods in general. He really wasn’t living up to his role as a vampire at all, yet, despite how hard he tried not to, part of him decided it had to go and like Shiro as a person, despite the fact he’d clearly vandalised his own car and lied through his teeth when they’d met. Buying way too much food, the dude at the check out pretty much had bug eyes when it came to loading up the belt, because Lance never brought as much he was right then, then paying for it as Shiro insisted on placing the bags back in the trolley, as it was “the least he could do, all things considered”. Lance kept trying to consider him a pain, but now he was actually wondering if this had been how his family felt when he’d suddenly come back home different to the rest of them. He wanted to ring his Mami and ask her advice over the whole matter, but the idea of her baby boy living with two men who kill vampires for a living would send into a fit of hysterics over his safety.

Taking his keys from him, Shiro was good at insisting things. Insisting he needed his rest, and that he should cover his face so the sun’s rays wouldn’t burn up his skin. Shiro was fast feeling like a big brother that Lance had desperately wanted, but denied he needed. The fact that Shiro didn’t seem to want to murder him left him with all kinds of conflicted feelings that were too muddled to sort out. He was a vampire, Shiro was a hunter, that was the black and white of it, those damn shades of grey in between were making all of this far more difficult than it needed to be.

A tad too proud of an inanimate object, his bronco was a good girl, not starting for Shiro until the third time he tried to turn over the engine. Not used to the closeness of the H on the clutch, Shiro ground the gears more than once, then proceeded to bunny hop over that damn ditch in Lance’s driveway. Forget Shiro being the older brother, he was giving Lance’s younger self a run for his money, though his problem had been that even at accelerated speeds things seemed slower than the normal speed limit. His glasses helped with that, as had keeping the one car for his adult life. Bunny hopping to a stop in front of Lance’s house, Shiro shot him an embarrassed look, Lance quick to reassure him he wasn’t about to tell anyone over the mistreatment of his beloved girl.

Getting the shopping inside was a whole other drama as he wasn’t allowed to help with that either. Sent to his living room, he found Shiro had made himself at home, cleaning up the trashed remains into something more put together yet nowhere near Lance’s high standards. He still needed a new coffee table, provided he’d be living long enough to enjoy it. With that room not needing dire attention, Lance found himself in his kitchen, not trusting Shiro to be near any open fire unsupervised. The clock already read 4:30pm, a little, lot, later than he would have liked the time to be. Lugging the last of the shopping bags in, Shiro hefted a sigh of relief before dropping himself down in the first available dining chair. Boy, if the man thought things ended there, he was in for a tough ride.

Waiting all of thirty second for Shiro to start relaxing, Lance clapped his hands, earning himself a groan

“What are you doing sitting down?”

“Wha...?”

“The real work starts now that we’re home. We’ve got a dinner party to cook for, and don’t think your lack of kitchen prowess is getting you out of it. You’re staying under my roof, which means you’re helping out. Besides, “Sleeping Beauty”, is gonna wanna eat sometime before he expires of old age”

Shiro sighed as he rose to his feet

“You’re right. You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m serious about my friends enjoying themselves, then yes I am. If you’re asking about Keith, he’s got a nice enough face, but that’s as far as it goes. He won’t eat what I cook, unless you want to lie to him about it. So, you’re helping, that way you can tell him the nasty blood sucker didn’t taint his precious food”

“That comment... it, um, it really got under your skin, didn’t it?”

“It’d be like me slandering all you hunters as wild beast killing Barbarians. I’ve come across them before, it’s kind of hard not to when you’ve been around a while, they usually prefer to be more direct with their kills”

Shiro nodded, his left hand moving to grab above his elbow on his right arm, as if Lance’s words had triggered him to remember some deep self-conscience secret

“I guess it is. But for the most part we are”

“Touché. I don’t want to admit this, but I don’t think I hate you as much as I should”

“For a vampire you’re not that bad”

“I could have told you that. Now, what does Keith like eating?”

“Something quick and easy”

“Thanks for that. Let’s put it this way, is there anything he’s allergic too?”

“He’s a bit iffy when it comes to milk... I was going to try make him some soup”

Lance couldn’t count the number of ways that could have gone wrong

“I can do soup. I got chicken today, so we’ll do chicken and vegetable for “Madam Dramatics”. You’ll be in charge of slicing things. I assume you’re skilled with a blade enough to know not to stab the vampire with pointy end”

“I’ve been around a blade or two”

“Good. Wash your hands then wash the vegetable”

Shiro stared at him blankly, Lance groaning

“Okay. I’ll wash the vegetables. You can work a peeler right?”

“I don’t know...”

Lance cast Shiro a serious frown. Vegetable peelers had come a long way since Lance was a child, but there were now easier than ever. Noticing the minute movements of Shiro’s lips, Lance wanted to smack him, yet instead he did the adult thing and used his words

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little”

“You know what, I take it all back. You’re not like an older brother, you’re like a dead beat father. Get to work on the vegetables while I start on the rest”

Having Shiro in the kitchen nearly ruined the joy of cooking forever. Lance didn’t really enjoy cooking the way Hunk did, but giving up on human food wasn’t an option when he was just another normal human being. He felt he’d be giving into his curse to give it up completely, and if he had the money, why not spoil his friends with some really good food? Asking Shiro to use the bones to make a chicken broth resulted in the bones being burnt. Then Shiro left the tea towel a fraction too close to the stove top and that started to smoulder. By the time the clock struck five, and that big beautiful best friend of his, also known as Hunk, walked through the kitchen door, Lance was nearly crying tears of frustration. He’d tasted Shiro’s soup, then promptly rushed to the kitchen sink to throw up, tiny flecks of metal stared up at him and Lance cursed Keith again. Walking up to Hunk, Lance wrapped his arms around him

“Thank god, you’re here”

Patting Lance’s back, Hunk laughed nervously

“Um, thanks, man. Hello, Shiro. Nice to, um, see you again”

“Keith left his camera behind, he’s bad in the morning without his caffeine. Lance offered to let us stay for dinner. We came to collect it. You know how it is”

Hunk knew how unhappy Lance was about house guests. His friends knew that staying in his house wasn’t an invite just any old random got, unless it came from Pidge

“Man, it’s lucky that you left it here and not somewhere else. Not everyone is as kind hearted as Lance”

With his face so close to Hunk’s neck, Lance could hear Hunk’s heartbeat. He could see the veins that carried that fresh blood to and from Hunk’s brain. He’d never feed from him, but Lance was definitely having control issues. He needed blood, he needed to bring himself back under control. His body felt like he was wearing the meat suit of a stranger

“Man, are you okay? You’re totally bundled up”

“I’m fine, Hunkeroo. Just a bit of a sniffle, probably from that window breaking. Shiro’s volunteered to be your sous chef for the evening, thought I wouldn’t trust him with anything other than the chicken soup”

Hunk nodded, Lance stepping back out of his hold. Thank god he was so thickly padded Hunk couldn’t feel him shivering

“Wait, if Shiro’s here, where’s Keith?”

Lance opened his mouth, but it was Shiro’s voice that piped up

“Keith doesn’t like to admit it, but he gets pretty bad car sickness. He needed a nap before dinner to sleep it off”

Hunk nodded sympathetically

“I get that too. It’s horrible. I’ve got this new medication I’m on that really seems to help, I can give him the name if it’ll help”

“I don’t see the harm”

Shiro lied so naturally that Lance wondered if Keith did get car sick. Keith’s bad arse image was in tatters now. The next time the idiot tried to pick a fight him, Lance wasn’t going to hesitate in teaching his ego a lesson

“Right, well. Shiro’s here to help, he can’t be left unwatched. This one has the skill of burning water in an off kettle. I need to check my work phone, and I want to check in with Miriam”

Shiro questioned

“Miriam?”

Hunk nodded, already slipping into chef mode

“That’s his grandmother. Sure, dude. Take your time, but you know, not too much time...”

Hunk was taking a leap of faith, taking Lance’s “trust” of Shiro to mean he could take those tentative steps too. Hunk’s naturally loveable and huge hearted self didn’t need much of an excuse to love somebody. He prayed that whatever happened, Shiro would spare Hunk the pain of a broken friendship.

The door to Lance’s office had been left ajar. Making the most of it, Blue was curled up on his office chair, Lance softening immediately at the sight of his princess

“Blue... hey, baby girl”

Blue let out a “rowrr”, rolling over and stretching herself out in the chair, her head turning his way as it bobbed a little, like she couldn’t quite focus. With her precious little toes reaching towards him, Lance smiled down at his girl, not wanting to lift her off the chair where she was so comfortable. Walking over, he knelt down, scratching between Blue’s ears as she nudged up into the pats

“So this is where you’ve been? Daddy’s sorry. I left you all alone, my baby”

Laying his cheek on Blue, her fur tickled his nose, still too hypersensitive, but finding peace in Blue’s strong heartbeat. What was happening to him? All of this was strange, all of these heightened senses were scary. Disgruntled over being reduced to his pillow, Blue moved from beneath him, sticking her butt in his face in a half kind of squat as she licked her back, an accusing glare cast in his direction

“You’re the one who moved. I didn’t want to disturb you”

He swore Blue understood every word, his girl quick to jump off the chair and strut away out the door.

Sighing as he was left alone, Lance hadn’t actually wanted to call his Mami. He didn’t want her knowing he was sick or stressed, but his list of go to people were short. With his body changing, he figured he should reach out to Coran for answers, but was scared off at the idea that Shiro or Keith might have bugged his office. Vatican sanctioned hunters were no joke. God’s love was found in the light, while his species were seen as unworthy night freaks that should be decapitated at the first opportune moment. It wasn’t like him to be so depressed, he needed to get his shit together and keep strong, so why was he letting himself spiral like this? He’d met hunters before, forced to flee long ago and barely in his late 20’s. He thought he’d done such a good job of blending in, of being likeable to everyone. Now he was just too damn scared to think of his next move. A truce between him and Shiro could surely not last longer than tonight. Shiro only agreed not to kill him due to his human friends. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to drink Keith’s blood in the first place, so why did he have to be punished when he’d pretty much saved Keith from himself.

“Freeze, bloodsucker”

What happened to Keith being in bed? So weak he needed his big brother to fend for him? Turning his head, he rested his other cheek on the chair as he looked to Keith. Keith looked sleepy, yet unamazingly alive. A proper nap would fix up much of his appearance, as would a series of face masks to help with the whole “black bag panda” look he was rocking. Pointing a gun in his direction, Lance couldn’t even be surprised by it

“Just so you know, Shiro and I have a truce at the moment because there’s a human in the house”

“You think I care? You fucking turned me”

Lance moved his head again, flipping back to the other cheek and staring at his desk

“You’re not a vampire”

“I am too! You bit me”

“You punched me in the teeth”

“You still turned me!”

“Keith, fuck off. You’re not a vampire”

“I am! I received a vampire’s bite”

“Nope”

“I’m turning. I can feel it. My body feels different”

“That’s because you’re a dumbarse. Relax, you’re still human”

“I’m not! You ruined my life, the least you can do is die!”

Before Keith could react, Lance was standing in front of him. Grabbing the muzzle of the gun, he held it up to his chest in line with his undead heart

“You’re not a vampire. Fucking shoot me if you want to, but I never fucking turned you”

It was interesting to hear Keith’s heart begin to race with fear. His eyes were something else, Lance staring him dead in the eyes, feeling like those eyes could steal his very soul

“You turned me”

“I didn’t turn you. Now, either you shoot me right here, or you go back to bed like a good little boy. Shiro’s worried enough about you as it is”

“You have no right...”

“I have no right mentioning his name? Is that it? Sorry to break it to you, but until tomorrow morning, and my friends have all gone home safely, your stupid arse is stuck here. Now, I’m going to have a bite to drink while you go back to bed. Neither of us are going to tell Shiro you pulled a gun on me while a human was in the house, and you’re going to get through you think mullet covered head, you are not a vampire”

Letting the gun go, Lance turned and walked back to his desk, making a show of calmly pulling down a wine glass and opening his safe. His blood supply had been fucking halved, probably by Keith, and Lance kind of hoped that the idiot would have taken a sip by now and see he was still the stupid human he’d always been. Feeling Keith’s eyes remain on him, Lance sighed

“Can’t a man get a moment of privacy in his own home?”

“How can I trust you? How do I know you aren’t planning on pulling out your own gun”

“Because you fucking tossed my office already. If there a gun in here, your dumbarse would have found it. Now, shoo”

Keith did not “shoo”, either the whole encounter had taken so long Shiro got worried, or Hunk had mentioned Lance was headed to his office, whatever it was, Shiro didn’t take long to interrupt the one sided staring match

“Keith! What are you doing out of bed?”

With Shiro finally there to break the tension, Lance poured himself out a third of the blood bag

“I’m not human any more, Shiro...”

“Keith. I get that this change is hard for you, but we’re going to get through this together. Lance has people over tonight, we can’t make a move until they’ve left”

“He’s a vampire and he fucking turned me!”

All Keith needed to was start stomping his feet and he’d have impersonating a cranky toddler down pact

“Keith, please. Whatever he’s done to you, I won’t rest until we have a cure. Right now, Lance is only source of information. I know it hard, but you need your rest”

Lance’s opinion of Shiro’s intelligence dropped. He’d told Shiro that Keith wasn’t a vampire. Yet there Shiro was, assuring Keith they’d find a cure. The only cure was death. The whole “kill the sire” thing didn’t work, the two who’d sired Lance had to have been killed off by now... unless they were born into the vampire way of life. Lance actually hadn’t the first clue about how a vampire was “born” and not from being bitten and turned. Perhaps blood in the infants milk? That was the only reasoning he could some up with. Maybe if he hadn’t clung to his human roots, he would have ventured out to learn more about the beast he was.

“Fine. Tonight, and only tonight, I’ll let you off, but come tomorrow, you better tell me everything I need to know before I kill you”

Whooo hoo. One last dinner, at least it’d be with his friends. Keith’s carrying ons were enough to make his headache increase tenfold, bitter as he muttered

“Go away already”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Goodbye, Tokyo

I stood behind Zihang’s chair, running a lock of his dark hair through with a comb, spreading the shiny strands in my fingers, and then, taking a pair of shears, snipped the ends into a straight line.

Chu Zihang sat quiet and still. Were it not for his coal black eyes, wide like an elk’s, I would have thought he was just the same as always. 

Meanwhile, Lu Mingfei examined himself in the mirror turning his head back and forth examining my work.. “Not bad, Meix- er... Fengchu.”

I glanced at him with a small smile. “Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”

There were large and small boxes all over the floor. Some boxes contained light and heavy weapons, some boxes contained medicines and clothing for all seasons. Others contained compressed food, enough for the four of us to live in a wasteland. 

Two boxes were just for supplies for Ru’Yi including diapers of different sizes, reusable cloth ones.

It didn’t feel like fleeing, but like moving.

I walked around Chu Zihang to work on the bangs over his eyes. It was his usual haircut. Of course, he didn’t know that.

“Wow, what a handsome style this is turning out to be....” Nono rubbed her chin.

“He’s handsome in any style.” I said.

Zihang glanced down, his cheeks turning a little pink.

“All the girls should chase him, but he has no one even in high school?” Nono asked suspiciously.

I was grateful for that, of course, but I bit my tongue and stepped away. “What do you think?”

“I like it.” He said in an almost inaudible mumble.

Lu Mingfei was watching us, his eyes distant. Who knew what he was thinking?But I could guess.

Erii. Did she cut his hair like this? I looked up but he turned away before I could say anything and pulled a cap on his head.

I opened my mouth to say something.

“I’ll be back later.” He said, picking up Chu Zihang’s backpack.

“What are you doing with his pack?” Nono asked. 

“I have some...shopping... we still lack a detailed map and I won’t be using Fingel’s navigation until we can make sure he is not being tracked. There’s a bookstore nearby.”

“Cold-hearted! I would rather toss myself in the nearest toilet than betray you but you still distrust me!” came the voice of Fingel from his pocket.

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

I went back to my room, planning to go to bed early, after feeding Ru’Yi well. This might be the last time we could sleep together in comfort like this. I looked down at Ru’Yi’s dark eyes. They were heavy with fatigue but she stayed awake. I wondered if she would grow up on the run. I thought to myself that maybe I could find a place for us to hide for a while. I’d change my name and then one day, I would tell her the truth about everything that happened around her birth.

How just like the Christ, she’d been attacked as a young child and we had to flee. And a handsome young man from the East came bearing her gifts.

She fell asleep quickly and I swaddled her and set her on a folded blanket on the floor.

A knock sounded at the door. I grabbed Tongzi and walked up to the foyer. “Who is it?” I called.

“It’s Saeki-kun!”

I frowned. “Who is Saeki-kun? I don’t know that name.”

I heard a loud sigh. “It’s Crow. I don’t want to be called that you know.”

I cracked the door, eying him in suspicion, not undoing the chain.

He looked at me with a hurt expression. “Really, all this and you come at me with a sword?”

Belatedly, I put the sword out of sight. “Don’t feel bad. I don’t really trust anyone any more. I know you say you’re watching your back but if I don’t watch mine, who’s going to watch it?”

He gave me a crooked smile. “I get it. Well, I won’t waste your time. I’m here to tell you about our escape plans. I’ve prepared ship for you. It’s a cargo ship, typically transports trash, but it also trades in black market goods and illegal immigrants.”

“A boat?” My eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve made sure that captain understands the importance of getting you to your destination... by taking his whole family hostage.” His voice lowered and his smile disappeared.

I licked my lips. “Wow.”

“Convinced yet?”

“Ninety percent...”

“What?! What do I have to do?” He pushed back his bangs.

“Hey! It’s just you that saying you kidnapped his family. You have no evidence of it!”

“Why would I have evidence of a crime!” He hissed at me.

“Okay, in case of emergency how do we get off?”

“Huh?” He blinked. 

“If things go south, how do we get off the ship!” My eyes narrowed. “I’ll feel better if I feel like I can escape in case something goes wrong.”

“Every ship has life boats...”

“You didn’t think of a plan B for the ship?!”

“I did but I can’t tell you. Trust me. I have a plan for the Executive bureau....”

“I don’t trust anyone any more!” My voice was starting to shake. “Crow, you tell me there’s a way off or I’m going to assume this is a death trap!”

He slammed his palm against door post and snarled into my face. “I love Ru’Yi.”

I shrank away and he lowered his head. 

“Look. Nothing is one hundred percent. I’m doing everything I can here. If I could... I’d go with you.”

“Why don’t you?” I asked the question sharply. If the ship was good enough for us, it should be good enough for him, right?

He looked up at me, hurt radiating from his eyes. I forced myself to meet them, not willing to budge an inch on this. 

“Because my father... he’s getting old. His mind is going. He can’t make his appointments if I don’t remind him. If I get sent to the isles, Hydra will break me out, and take care of him, but if I go with you? He might be at risk.”

I hesitated a moment to let go of my suspicions but then I relented, nodding my head. “Thank you... for everything.”

“Nah...” He waved me away. “If I could do it all over again, I’d do a better job. This is one last chance for me to get it all right. Lancelot knows you want to escape Japan so he’s monitoring all the ports. But this smuggling ship won’t go to a normal port.”

“Okay.” I whispered.

He smiled at me, his eyes soft. “Is there anything else you need?”

I thought a moment and shook my head.

“Then be ready to go. 2 am sharp.”

The pier was far away from the harbor area familiar to most people. There were no commercial buildings, only the endless rocky beach and the black undulating sea. The gray concrete pillars extended one by one toward the depths of the water, an unfinished trestle bridge for unloading cargo.

Only cargo ships were loaded and unloaded here and usually they transported high-value commodities. Looking out, rusty containers were piled around the wharf. The air was filled with a slight metallic smell. 

My eyes were wide, searching for any signs that we were being followed or watched. It had been a long time since I had been in the open like this. Ru’Yi slept against my back, bundled in a tight wrap. The wrap also held Spiderfang and Tongzi at my side.

I looked at Nono and she too stayed vigilant.

Crow, however, calmly leaned on his red sports car, waiting and humming a tune.

“What are you singing?”

“The dock is my father’s fishing pole, my brother and I are standing at the two ends of the pole.” Lu Mingfei translated to us. “Sounds like a Japanese folk song.”

“It’s from my hometown! When we were young, we both waited for my father to come back from the pier. He’d bring back fresh fish, and my mother would make fish soup and tofu for us.”

Nono turned to him. “I thought your father was a gangster? Since when did he take up fishing?”

I glanced at Nono, hackles rising again.

Crow threw up his hands. “Do you think I grew up on Tokyo? We collected protection money from the fishermen! He came from the pier after collecting!  You women and your trust issues!”

Nono rolled her eyes but didn’t continue to question.

The wind blowing on the sea was getting colder and colder. I checked to make sure Ru’Yi’s knitted hat was staying on her head. Tonight, we were all wearing the uniforms of the Japanese Executive Bureau: Long black trench coats, with the special customized Ukiyo-e pattern in the lining.

“That trestle bridge is also thanks to my brother...” He suddenly stopped talking.

He spit out the cigarette in his mouth, stomped it out with the toe of his shoe and strode forward. “How are you my friend! I missed you so much, my white sail, the portrait of my ship, the strongest male seagull among us. My dear captain!”

From the darkness ahead came a middle aged man wearing a white uniform with a pale face.  I could smell the alcohol and oil from a long distance. The man and Crow hugged vigorously and rubbed their chins together in a strange greeting.

“He’s a Slav.” Nono muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

My uneasiness grew at his rough and unkempt appearance. How could I trust this dirty alcoholic stranger with my child’s life? I wanted off this boat and I hadn’t even gotten on it.

Nono noticed my discomfort. “Yeah I know... but Crow has kidnapped this man’s family and I’m sure if anyone harasses any of us, they’ll have Chu Zihang to contend with.”

The captain took out a bottle of vodka from his trouser pocket and handed it to Crow. Crow unscrewed it and took a sip. They spoke Japanese and what sounded like Russian. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that Crow was truly a sailor and not a gangster at all.

He returned to us and enthusiastically introduced us. “My good brother, Captain Aliyev will take you out of Japan. There are not many people who dare to enter and exit the port of Tokyo directly. The Aliyev brothers run the smoothest on this route and have never lost their cargo!”

I nodded but couldn’t help but frown at the vodka bottle.

“We will unload the cargo in Vladivostok in seven days. Within seven days, I will guarantee your safety.” Captain Aliyev seemed very proud. “Our ship is of very high level. Although we dare not say we are being escorted by warships, if anything happens, we will raise an alarm! And there will be warships coming from nearby within an hour. No one has ever dared to embarrass us on the high seas!”

Crow looked at me and gave me a thumbs up.

I expelled a breath and smiled, returning his thumbs up. 

But in truth, I had already planned my own escape.

After our conversation earlier this night, I couldn’t sleep. I spent about an hour researching destinations to teleport to if needed. I decided against any more islands and settled on a place called La Rinconada, high in the mountains of Peru.

It was a six hour ride from the nearest city. There were no paved roads and buses were irregular. The biggest advantage it had was the fact that anyone coming into such a place would be noticed long before they got there. It was landlocked, making for an easy escape once we needed to escape again.

I wouldn’t depend on the assurances of the captain or Crow.

“Why would armed ships come to the rescue of a garbage ship?” Mingfei asked, surprised.

Crow leaned over and whispered something in Mingfei’s ear. Mingfei let out a little... “Oh!” and nodded.

I glanced over, frowning. Why couldn’t he tell me?

“Ladies and gentlemen, please come on board with me, your bed and vodka are ready!” Captain Aliyev cheered.

“My friend, I will leave it to you! I owe you big time, Cap!” Crow shouted as he made his way back to his car.

He leaned against his sports car, looking at me. I felt that there should be more to say than this, but he waved his hand, shooing me off.

I gave him a wave and turned to follow the captain. As soon as I reached the captain’s side however, Crow shouted again. “I’ll take care of your wife and children!”

A shiver ran down my spine.

The ship was worse than I imagined. No matter how high a priority the cargo, a garbage ship still smelled like garbage, fish, and rusty steel. We were supposed to spend our escape in a literal floating dumpster!

The living area was below the deck, and Aliyev led us through the dark passageway. Nono was alert to everything, memorizing the dark halls to find her way back later on her own. I followed her lead, mentally marking signs in my head to make sure I understood the route back to the upper decks. 

With her ability to profile and read people, Nono was also good as a watch dog. If anyone here seemed out of place, she would let us know.

Aliyev stopped at the end of a passage, the two doors on each side of the hall made for four cabins.

“Vodka, soft beds, 24-hour hot water. This is the best place to to live on this boat.” He squinted at us. “Why are you such good friend of Mr. Saeki?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. “Don’t walk around for your own safety. Many men on boat. Always sad, depressed and lonely. You are very beautiful... and they get drunk.”

Nono gave a loud snort and pushed into the door.

Mingfei went in the opposite door from Nono

Chu Zihang dutifully went to follow Nono but suddenly hesitated, looking at me. 

I walked past him and then grabbed his arm, leaning into his ear to whisper. “Sleep with your sword tonight.”

I picked the door next to Mingfei’s.

The cabin was quite tidy, and there was even a small round porthole to look outside. But the so-called 24-hour hot water was just a shower head and the unlimited vodka was also the cheap kind, not that I cared.

The Captain stood at the door watching me. “He told me to make sure you had everything you needed. Are you his wife?”

“When are we sailing?” I asked with some annoyance.

“The goods are loaded and we can leave at any time.” He held out a key to me.

I stared at him, frowning. “Toss it on the bed.”

He shrugged and did so. “I will ask the crew to bring in your other luggage later.”

“Are there lifeboats?”

“Of course! We must follow maritime law.”

I squinted at him in silence. Was this guy talking about law when he was smuggling fugitives? “Okay. Thank you very much.”

He turned and his heavy footsteps receded down the hall.

I hissed through my teeth. “I don’t trust these people. I don’t trust these people!”

I unwrapped Ru’Yi and laid her on the bed and then I sat on the bed, looking out the porthole window, holding Tongzi and Spider Fang in my lap.

In a few moments Lu Mingfei came in and saw me. He held a device in his hand. “You’re worried to, huh? I brought a bug scanner.”

I smiled with immense relief as he swept the room. “Nono’s already got her Beretta heavy pistol assembled and loaded. Only now she’s taking sips of vodka.” He said, chuckling.

After a few minutes of scanning, he nodded. “Alright... looks like the room is clean of bugs. We’re good to go.”

“Thanks Mingfei.”

“Any time.”  He put the device back in his pocket. “Get some rest, Meixiu.”

“Call me Hamilton.” I smiled. 

“I’m not calling you that.” 

As he turned to leave, I spoke up. “By the way, anything goes down, come find me. I have a place we can teleport to.” 

"I know I can count on you.” He gave me a thumbs up, then walked away and shut the door.

[shakespeareanwannabe]

Now Starring

Sam wasn’t supposed to be this still, this quiet, this broken. Speaking as the man who taught him how to walk, Dean could say with certainty that his kid brother had barely stopped moving once he had found his land legs. Ever since he had managed that first word, “De!”, he only stopped speaking and asking questions when he was asleep, but even then the kid had developed a nasty habit of talking in his sleep. Sam had always grumbled and turned red when Dean called him out on it, but Dean had never really minded the noise. Knowing that his brother was there, even in sleep, was like a blessing to a kid who had gone one too many sleepless nights trying to protect his kid brother from all the darkness that was outside of their motel room. The absence of that voice had taken some getting used to.

It was the silence that was the worst. After Dad had gone off in his truck a couple of weeks after Sam had gone off to Stanford (“We can cover more ground if we split up, Dean.”), the Impala had been too quiet, even with her rumbly engine and steady stream of classic rock. Sam had always been asking questions or complaining about having to move to another state, again. He had always been shifting those gigantic limbs of his, trying to get comfortable. When he had, his steady breathing had always been there, like white noise soothing Dean’s stressed mind. Not having it there had kept him up at night. The room was too quiet, the car was too quiet, the girl sleeping next to him was breathing too loud.

Dean watched his listless brother as he stood next to Mr. Moore, solemnly greeting the long line of mourners who had turned up to cry over “the dead girl from Stanford”. The kid looked like he was barely standing on his own two feet, and he was only speaking when spoken to.

It was driving Dean nuts. He didn’t know where to even begin with fixing his brother, and that scared him. Four years apart meant that there were a few more pages to the Book of Sam that he was unfamiliar with, and Sam seemed to be trying to keep it that way. Dean got it, he did. Being a closed book was helpful for situations like this, when you were trying to keep the world from seeing the shattered remains of your heart. But Dean needed to read those pages to be able to start fixing his brother. He didn’t know if chicken soup was still Sam’s go-to when he was feeling crappy, or how many shots of whiskey would make him pass out cold for the night.

Dean was the big brother. He was supposed to know this stuff about his younger brother. He was supposed to be able to help, and yet, gazing around the large reception hall that Jessica’s wake was being held at, he had never felt more useless than he did at that moment. He was completely out of his depth.

Surprisingly, it was the first funeral that Dean had been to since he was 4. But honestly? He didn’t count his Mom’s funeral because he couldn’t remember much of it. All he could really remember was sitting on a stone bench with Baby Sammy in his arms, and growling at all the nosy neighbours who tried to touch his brother. It didn’t matter to him who it was. The Pastor, his kindergarten teacher, especially Ms. Chancey, that mean old hag. They came within 50 feet of his baby brother, they got growled at.

The instinct hadn’t left him, even if it was 22 years later. He was surrounded by people he didn’t know and couldn’t care less about, save for one. Other Stanford students, professors, and Jessica’s relatives milled around him, and whenever they came too close to Sam, or tried to put a hand on his shoulder, Dean felt like growling at him. He actually did growl at that Brady kid, but he did it low enough so that Sam couldn’t hear. There was just something about that guy that gave him the creeps. He had to constantly remind himself that he only hunted monsters, and that humans were off limits, no matter how douchy they seemed.

Dean picked up a cracker and nibbled on it. Dean was pretty sure that at least half the people milling about had no idea who they were supposed to be mourning, and those were the ones that he wanted to growl at the most, because they were the ones giving the “At least she’s in a better place” speeches to his brother.

“Friggin’ cattle,” he scoffed, tossing three-quarters of his cracker into the trash bin.

“It’s so sad, isn’t it?” Dean turned to look at the girl standing next to him. She was pretty, wearing a black dress that contrasted with her pale skin. She was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, though it wasn’t doing much good as her tears were still streaming down her face. Dean grunted non-committedly, keeping the corner of his eye on Sam. “I’m Lin; Jessica was my roommate before she moved in with her boyfriend. How did you know Jess?”

Dean paused, considering lying just to get rid of this chick. If it had been any other day, he would have been all for taking her home and making her forget for a little while, but he wasn’t playing Dean the Philandering Hunter today. No, today Dean Winchester was starring in the role of Big Brother Dean, and he needed to put 110 percent into it. Sammy needed him, and it wasn’t like last time. He couldn’t just bundle his little brother up in his arms and run into the woods surrounding the cemetery like he had when Dad’s second cousin or whatever had tried to pluck the kid out of his protector’s arms. The kid needed him to be present, to protect him when the emotions of the day got to be too much, and to tell Brady the Douchebag to hit the road when he had tried to give the whole “Time heals all wounds” speech.

In the end, Big Brother Dean figured it would be easier to tell the truth. “I didn’t.”

Lin stared at him, tears coming to a halt as she glowered up at him. “Then what the hell are you doing here? You know, you people are leeches! Jessica’s family and friends are going through hell right now, and you’re here because you think you had some connection to her because you go to the same school! They—we­—don’t need you here, bearing false platitudes about how time heals all wounds­, or she’s in a better place! You make me sick! You couldn’t even dress up a little, to make it look like you actually give a damn about her! She wouldn’t want you here! Jessica—”

“Dean?” The quiet, tearful, near-whimpering voice cut through the ex-roommate’s tirade like a knife, and Dean whirled his head around to see Sam coming towards him, looking like he had been KO’d twice but was still trying to fight.

“Yeah, buddy? What is it?” Dean’s concern leaked into his voice, successfully shutting Lin up.

“Can we—” Sam coughed as he tried to keep his tears at bay. “Can we go back to the motel please? I don’t think I can handle any more of this today.”

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulders. Sam practically sagged into his brother, allowing him to take most of his weight while still appearing to be supporting himself on his own two feet.

“Yeah Sammy, we can go,” Dean replied quietly, completely aware that Lin was watching them. “Is there anybody you want to say goodbye to before we leave?” Sam shook his head morosely, and Dean mentally grimaced. He had never seen the kid so worn out, and he was desperate to do anything that could possibly bring even a fraction of a smile to Sam’s face.

“Okay. Nice meeting you,” he growled at Lin as he led Sam out the front door into the bright sunlight. He stood slightly in front of Sam so that it looked like Sam was exiting without assistance, but also so that he could elbow people out of the way.

He would be whatever Sam needed him to be. He would be a crutch, he would force feed him junk food, and would pour an entire bottle of whiskey down his throat to get him to sleep. He would be a shoulder to cry on, and soothe the nightmares that were sure to come. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start. And Dean wouldn’t give up, because he was a big brother and this is the role he was born to play.

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi! I was wondering if I could please request headcannon of being Shelby’s younger sister (whos teenager) and you are sick. Even though you’re not a baby, John is taking care of you

“john for the last fucking time, our sister is not dying. she had a fucking cold.” ada stresses, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut. if she were to open them again she would see tommy rolling eyes, arthur sighing because frankly he knows ada has just opened a whole new can of worms, and finn almost sniggering. when she does open her eyes, john stands staring at looking severely offended by the notion. “she could die.” he retorts, “if we don’t look after her properly.” and then he marches off with the hot soup and cold rag for your forehead. john is merciless. maybe it’s because his wife was fine one day, a little ill the next and then dead by the end of the month; he had a perpetual fear. or maybe it was because you were his youngest sister and littlest sibling, therefor he (and the others) were hugely overprotective. maybe it was because tommy was your guardian and therefor the one you were closest to and always had been. because arthur was the oldest and therefor your protector. because ada was the only other girl and there was a sacred sister bond™️ in that and finally because finn’s your twin and there’s not competing with that. maybe it’s because he finally has something that he can be to you; your cared as you lay all bundled up on blankets with a snotty nose and a queasy stomach. he can be the one who wipes the sweat off your fever ridden forehead, rubs your back when you’re sick and feeds you soup when your arms are too weak to do it. he knows you’ll be fine in a couple more day. he knows. but for the time being he does not care when you’ll be better as he knows that right now, you are sick and you need a brother to dote on and look after you. and john shelby is more than fucking willing to be that brother

[pessimisticlatte]

Glass Roses - Chapter 6

Marichat ~ Adrienette ~ Platonic Marigami ~ Lukagami ~ Chlobrina ~ Nathalie x Emilie ~ DJWifi/Rougapace/Alynino

-Eventual Reveal-

Bit of a reveal in here, my wonderful readers! I love making things a bit complicated so that’s exactly what I’ve done! Enjoy my explanation as to why I described Lila as being ‘strawberry blonde’ in the last chapter! It’s going to be very important very, very soon :P

~~~~~~~~ Gabriel could feel Nathalie’s disdain toward him radiating off her. He was unsure of what he’d done to turn her against him but he didn’t have much reason to care, she was a means to an end and a way of bringing Emilie back to him. She didn’t have to like him anymore, she just had to obey his orders.

~~~~~~~

School had been active for a month. There hadn’t been a single akuma attack just yet, Marinette didn’t exactly understand the full extent of Hawkmoth’s powers but Master Fu had explained that he chose his victims by judging the strength of their emotions. Mari couldn’t grasp how that worked. Chat hadn’t come to see her since school had started and she could feel a deep, jittery worry sludging through her veins. He was on her mind near constantly, so much so that her anxiety around Adrien had almost completely diminished. 

Mari stood on her balcony with a light cardigan wrapped around her slim shoulders, if Chat didn’t appear in the next twenty or so minutes, she’d decided that she was going to head out on a patrol as Ladybug. Rena Rouge, Carapace, Chat Noir and Ladybug had formed a roster for patrolling so that it wasn’t a responsibility placed solely on Ladybug and Chat’s shoulders and everyone had the chance to get a full night’s sleep. Mari had been meaning to raise the idea of adding another to their slowly growing band, she’d taken the Dragon miraculous back off Kagami before Kagami had gone away. The Bee miraculous, Snake miraculous, Horse, Monkey and the others were all still in the Guardian Box. She wouldn’t mind adding Ryuko to the roster or Viperion, maybe both, but tonight wasn’t her night to patrol. It was Chat’s.

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

Lila stood in front of the dimly lit washbasin in her ensuite, looking at herself in the grimy mirror above it. All the lies she’d told the students at school about her mother always ran with an undercurrent of truth. Yes, her mother was absent, and yes, they hadn’t spent proper time together in years but it wasn’t because she was a super-spy or world-famous model, it was because of something far more sad.

Unwrapping the towel from around her head, Lila remembered the last time she’d seen her mother. The tanned skin of her mother’s face was stretched across the frame of her face, the meat of her cheeks created cliffs under her round cheekbones from the extent that it had withered away, once lively brown eyes now hollow and sunken, glassy and unseeing. The tangled, waist length strands of Lila’s hair came free from the towel and fell in damp clumps around her pyjama clad hips. Lila’s mother was a housemaid, a migrant one at that, who worked herself to the bone to keep Lila in school and clothed as best she could. The clothes on Lila’s back had been painstakingly hand-sewn by Lila herself to replicate the fashions she saw daily. Chloe Bourgeois didn’t know how lucky she was, her father was alive and her mother made time for her. She had money to throw around on stupid things like manicures she’d get redone in a different colour the very next day, while Lila didn’t even have enough spare to buy new bobby pins when she really needed them.

Brushing her hand through her limp, newly re-bleached hair, Lila sighed through her nose. Even Dupain-Cheng had it good. Her mother and father adored her, they always made time for her and never left her completely, utterly alone. A large chunk of Lila’s hair came off in her hand, the damp blonde ball tangled around her fingers caused a sob to rise in her throat. The tips of her butter yellow acrylic fingernails shone within the hairball, the manicure that she’d stolen money to get. The manicure that now held knotted bundles of her once magnificent brunette mane. Lila felt a hairy clump whisper against the skin of her back as she moved her head slightly, the weight of her drying hair was now pulling the dead, chemically destroyed roots directly out of her scalp.

She’d worked herself to the bone over the holidays to afford the hair bleach, the make up, jewellery, even her criminally paid for manicure. The family her mother worked for rarely let her go home and her wage scarcely covered their rent, not to mention school, so Lila worked when she could, as much as she could. She cleaned, she cooked, she sewed things, all so she could afford groceries, when she’d come up short of her calculations on how much she’d need to spend on her new appearance, she’d stolen cash from the till at the fast food restaurant she took the graveyard shift at. The manager had been none the wiser as Lila swiped petty change and other employee’s tips as well as bills and coins from the register.

Tears stinging her eyes as she tied what remained of her once thick, soft, glistening hair into a straggly, thin plait and repeated the mantra she told herself daily.

“When you marry Adrien Agreste, you will never go hungry again, you will be the daughter Gabriel Agreste never had, and you will make Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chloe Bourgeois, Alya Cesaire and Kagami Tsurugi pay for everything they have done to you. You will rule Paris one day with Adrien and his wealth by your side, and you will make them know how to feels to have nothing, to have no one, to be nothing. You will destroy their families and serve justice for them not helping your mother.”

Lila and her mother had lived in Paris for longer than Marinette and her family. The Dupain Bakery had been run by a cantankerous old man before Tom Dupain and his new wife, Sabine Cheng, returned from China with their young daughter and took over the business. Lila’s mother had asked the old man to take her on as a baker or even as a waitress but he’d spat slurs at her until she’d fled the bakery with her damaged pride and worry for the young mouth she had to feed. Her mother never went back to the bakery but every time Lila saw the smiling faces of Tom and Sabine at an event they were catering, she thought of a time when her mother wasn’t too exhausted to function.

Alya’s mother, Marlena, was the head chef at Le Grande Paris restaurant and had been kind to Lila’s mother for as long as she worked there. Marlena and her husband were born in France but had Creole heritage, Marlena understood some of the disdain Lila’s mother endured and tried to make her feel welcome. Lila never had the chance to meet Alya before she started at College Francoise Dupont but after Marlena had been forced to fire her mother, Lila had vowed to make the other girl pay. It wasn’t her mother’s fault that a patron had assaulted her and she’d accidentally spilled hot soup on him, the man who grabbed her ass should have been punished, not her mother who was working to feed her. Alya had two parents and wouldn’t ever have to worry about her next meal, Alya’s mother had taken a woman who was supporting a sick child with what she had and left her in the gutter to die.

Kagami had taken Adrien’s focus off her. He no longer worried about settling Lila into the school and helping keep her caught up on work. He’d barely spoken to her today when he sat next to her in class. She’d spent quite a few painstaking hours forging her mother’s signature on a letter to the school to ensure Adrien would have to spend as much time as possible with her but he hadn’t deigned to say more than a few words, instead looking around the room to avoid her gaze. He’d spent lunch with Kagami too, and Marinette, and Alya. Lila would make him love her. He had no choice.

She didn’t know where to begin when it came to the pain Chloe had caused her. Lila’s mother had applied for a job at the Bourgeois residence a year ago, after Lila had started at Francoise Dupont, and Chloe had mercilessly mocked her for it. Chloe had hired Lila’s mother for a week, and held her mother’s job over Lila like a carrot to a horse, ensuring that Lila did whatever she wanted. Lila had almost been akumatised but Ivan had been instead, his rage so much more susceptible to the butterfly than her frustration. Her mother had then been unceremoniously let go, leaving her bedridden as Lila scraped in what she could to afford doctors visits for her now raging cold. After her mother had finally gotten better, Mayor Bourgeois had hired her again, saying that she was lucky that Chloe had taken pity on her and convinced him to take her back on as a maid. Chloe had spun a false story that made it appear as if Lila’s mother had stolen a valuable necklace from her, Lila knew that Chloe had actually given that very necklace to Sabrina several weeks before; but that was where her mother worked now, doing all the jobs other servants didn’t want to do. Her mother worked longer hours than she should, did jobs damaging to her already fragile health, and her employers paid little attention. Every time something broke, which was awfully often, the cost of repair would be taken out of Lila’s mother’s paycheque. 

The cost of renting in Paris was ridiculously steep, meaning that pay that had once seemed generous barely kept them alive but after the deductions from every broken object, it was even less.

Looking at her face in the mirror, Lila vowed to make each of them pay and take from them what their families had denied her. Adrien was beautiful and kind but, most importantly, he was wealthy. He was the only person who could love Lila, who could fix the terrible life she came from. But Lila knew that there was no redemption for her, even if he loved her.

In her heart, she knew that she wouldn’t stop once she got everything she wanted. She was going to kill the man who sired her and leave his body in a gutter. She was going to completely isolate Adrien so he had no one and nothing but her, then she was going to use his family’s influence to become the most powerful person the world had ever seen. No matter how horrible the life she had was, she would never be happy unless everyone else was not. 

She would tear Chloe Bourgeois’ life apart and take it for herself, looking exactly like the girl who had caused her and her mother more pain than they already endured.

~~~~~~~~~

Dressed as Chat Noir, Adrien leaned against a chimney and watched Marinette standing on her balcony. She looked so serene but so tense and worried at the same time, her body like a tightly coiled wire. Her azure eyes flicked around the houses in front of her, a frown growing on her beautiful face. He knew that she was looking for him but he wanted to wait another minute before he skipped across the roof-tops to her. Adrien had let Rena Rouge and Carapace know that he had plans come up tonight, meaning that he was going to be unable to finish his patrol; the two had looked at each other, sharing a knowing glance, and agreed that Carapace would take over his patrol tonight. Rena had pulled him aside afterwards and asked him, not so subtly, if he had a date planned; he’d felt his cheeks flare red under the mask and the gleam in Rena’s eye told him that she hadn’t missed it, something about her multicoloured opal eyes reminded him of Alya and the stance she held before him echoed the reporter perfectly. 

It had been a while since Chat Noir and Rena Rogue had seen each other, just the two of them, and both had grown older and wiser over the summer holidays. Adrien was more perceptive since discovering Marinette was Ladybug, spending a lot of time analysing the way she walked, the way she talked and the way she stood. Alya had never stopped being perceptive but she’d always been so preoccupied when she dressed as Rena and she’d never taken the time to pick apart every aspect of who the boy in the black catsuit could be.

“Alya?” Adrien’s voice had softened. Carapace behind him was tapping a message to Ladybug to tell her of the patrol change tonight on his shell-phone (as he jokingly called it). The way he said her name had Alya’s eyes widening to saucers and her jaw dropping.

“Is that you behind that mask, Adrien Agreste?” Alya flicked her fingers against his forehead, Adrien batted her hand away.

“Who else could it be, you tricky fox?” He gave a devious smirk and winked.

“Somehow, you had been the last person I’d ever expected to be Chat Noir but I’d never expected Nino to be Carapace eithe-,” Alya slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head, not looking at Adrien at all.

“N-Nino is Carapace?” Adrien’s eyes widened too, the black pupils shrinking to a pinprick. “That means Marin-, Lady-.”

“Marin? Do you mean Marinette?” Alya cut Adrien off with a quizzical look. She didn’t understand why he’d correlated Nino with Marinette and she was sure that she could dissect it but she didn’t have the mental space currently after discovering that Adrien ‘I live in a tower’ Agreste liked to dress in a skintight black cat suit and skip across Parisian rooftops, putting himself in near constant danger.

“Uh….,” Adrien paused awkwardly and shuffled his feet. “No?”

Alya’s eyes widened even further, the sclera fully haloing the glimmering rainbow of her eyes. “Marinette is Ladybug,” The words felt so weird but so right on her tongue. “Oh my god, Marinette is Ladybug and Ladybug is Marinette. How did I not notice earlier!”

“Shhhh, sh, sh, sh,” Adrien covered Alya’s mouth with his hand before she could call Cara- Nino’s attention to their discussion. “She doesn’t know that I know and she can’t know that you know.”

“It makes sense why she chose me now. It wasn’t because of the Ladyblog or just because Ella and Etta became the Sapotis, it was because I’m her best friend and there’s nothing like fighting crime with your bestie,” Adrien’s hand muffled Alya’s rambling, but he nodded.

“Oh shiiiiiit, what’d you do, Al?” Nino’s casual tone broke through the awkward air surrounding the position Alya and Adrien were in. “Wait, sorry, lemme try again, what’d you do, Nine-tails?”

Adrien took his hand off Alya’s mouth and sighed. Alya and Nino knew who each other were and if their superhero relationship was anything like their civilian one then secrets wouldn’t stay secret between them for long. 

“Well shit, Nino,” Adrien rubbed his fingers across his brow. “You blew her cover.”

“I’m not Nino, who is Nino?” Nino put on a fake accent, looking awkwardly around the rooftop as if that would erase the knowledge Adrien now had.

“Can I say it?” Alya looked at Adrien who gave a single nod. Placing her hand gently on Nino’s cheek, Alya turned his face so his eyes would meet hers. “Adrien is Chat Noir, Speilberg.”

“Uh, not a good time to be pulling my leg, Al,” Nino looked so confused, his eyes tearing from those of his girlfriend to assess Adrien. “Like, really not a good time. I’m about to head out on a patrol and this prank really isn’t gonna help me keep a level head if I have to spend the whole time freakin’ out about Adrien possibly lying to me.”

Something cold formed in the pit of Adrien’s stomach. “She’s not pranking you, Nino,” Adrien dropped the jovial tone he used specifically for Chat Noir and slipped into his usual restrained voice, the one Nino heard daily and would have no choice but to recognise. “It’s me.”

Alya’s hand still on his face, Nino’s head snapped between the two of them.

“You’re definitely pulling my leg, this isn’t funny, how’d you get Chat to copy Adrien’s voice so well, Nine-tails?” Nino shook his head vigorously, removing Alya’s hand from his face by her orange clad wrist. “This isn’t funny.”

“Plagg, claws in,” Adrien knew there was no other way to convince Nino that he was Chat Noir and if he didn’t show him the truth, Adrien might very well ruin his relationship with Alya. Marinette would skin him alive if he tore Nino and Alya apart, they had found each other when both of them were very lost and had found their way together, if he destroyed that she would never, ever forgive him. The Chat Noir suit melted off Adrien’s body and clotted together to form Plagg who promptly fell, groaning, to the floor of building the three were stood upon.

Nino’s eyes bugged out of his head, stretching further than should be humanly possible. He shook his head, eyes closed, before looking at Adrien again.

“Dude, you...you’re Chat Noir?” Nino looked at Alya as he confusedly questioned his best friend. Alya gave her boyfriend a reassuring half smile and nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-Ladybug said that I couldn’t tell you that I was Chat Noir because it could put you and your families in danger,” Adrien’s brow creased as he remembered Marinette insisting that their loved ones came first. “But, now that you’re Carapace, you and Alya should know who I am.”

“Does Ladybug know?” Nino went straight to the point. With an air of sadness, Adrien shook his head. “So, you don’t know who Ladybug is?”

“He didn’t say that, Speilberg,” Alya cut in over the top, reminding the two boys that she was still there and a part of the conversation.

“So you do know who Ladybug is?” Nino cocked his head. He was well aware of Adrien’s crush on Ladybug and if his best friend knew who the girl behind the mask was then surely he’d asked her out.

“Uuuuuuuh………,” Adrien bit his lip. “Plagg, claws out.”

The Chat Noir suit folded back around Adrien’s body, the Cat Kwami groaning as his form dispersed into the costume.

“You know who Ladybug is but she doesn’t know who you are?” Nino had taken Adrien’s sudden transformation as an avoidance tactic. “Is she someone we know?”

“Uh,” Adrien didn’t want to give Mari away to Nino like he did to Alya. Being Chat had been his best kept secret but only because he’d never interacted with anyone aside from Ladybug before Rena Rouge and Carapace had joined them. Marinette had never asked who he was under the mask and had actually insisted that he didn’t tell her, he wasn’t going to disobey her wishes. Especially after his interaction with Tikki.

“Nino,” Alya pinched his arm. 

“We definitely know her,” Nino rubbed his arm where Alya had pinched him. “Al knows who she is doesn’t she?”

Adrien opened and then closed his mouth, Nino bit his tongue to hold back making a joke about how good Adrien’s fish impression was.

“Imma start rifling off names cause I’m getting impatient and ya both know that I’m not a fan of puzzles. I’m a music man and filmmaker extraordinaire but puzzle maester I am not,” Alya pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes, she loved his stubbornness but she wasn’t sure if this warranted another pinch or letting him continue to press Adrien. “Ahhhh...Chloe?”

Adrien shook his head. Why would Nino immediately go for Chloe?

“Good, even if she has changed, I couldn’t imagine her keeping being Ladybug a secret, plus she did fight with us as Queen Bee, didn’t she? So I should-a ruled her out immediately,” Alya grimaced. “Sabrina?”

Another head shake, this time Alya gave one too. Neither Adrien nor Alya realised it but in deciding to ask the name of every single girl Nino, Adrien and Alya knew, Nino was attempting to hold them up as long as possible before he went on patrol. It may be selfish but he wanted to spend more time with Alya and he was still getting used to the fact that Adrien, his best friend, was Chat Noir. He knew that he’d asked why Adrien would want to lie to him but after accepting that it was Adrien in front of him, he didn’t want to bring that back up; Nino didn’t like hurting people and he especially didn’t like hurting Adrien. The look on Adrien’s face after Nino had made the statement told him that his words had injured his best friend. 

“Ladybug has dark hair...dark hair...dark hair,” Nino tapped his chin and started to pace. Alya shot a look at Adrien and mouthed the words ‘I think all the thinking is hurting him’, Adrien sneezed out a chuckle. “Juleka?”

“Nope,” Alya responded this time, cocking her hip and gently folding her arms below her bust. The smile on her face was casual and loving.

“Am I getting warmer or colder?” Nino pursed his lips.

“You’re getting soup,” Adrien stuck his chin out and leaned forward, extending his baton and resting both his hands and chin on the top of it.

“I dunno what that means. It can’t be Marc, I know they could match the voice but I don’t think they’d fit the suit,” Nino paused. “The voice, Ladybug’s voice, Al, do you have a recording?”

“Of course I have a recording,” Alya whipped out the Illusion flute and flicked the cap on the end off, opening up the screen beneath. Running her glove covered finger across it, Alya started to play a recording of Ladybug’s voice through the flute. She’d hooked the computer in the flute up to her phone and now had access to all the recordings she had of her interviews with Ladybug.

“...don’t worry, I’ve got you,” The soft voice coming through the speaker cooed to whoever was on the other end. Alya had taken this recording last time she’d helped Marinette take down an Akuma, the victim had been a little toddler who had immediately started bawling as soon as the possession left her body.

“T-that sounds like Mari,” Nino pointed at the flute with a knowing grin. “That’s a recording of Mari. Mari is Ladybug.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” Adrien wiggled his hips slightly, still balancing his chin on the baton. 

“Wait, I’m correct?” Nino actually looked very confused. He’d been playing to win but Mari was the last person he thought would be Ladybug. She was incredibly clumsy, not overly strong and very, very shy; Nino wasn’t sure that she could survive the stunts Ladybug did. Then he remembered that he’d seen Mari actually remained balanced during a gymnastics lesson at school, he’d seen her moving stacks of chairs heavier than she was, and she’d become more open, so much less shy. “Mari...Marinette is Ladybug.”

“Yes, she is,” Alya walked over to her boyfriend and placed her hands on his shoulders, her smaller frame melted into Nino’s as she hugged him. “I don’t think there could be anyone better to be Ladybug.”

“She’s selfless, caring, and so strong, that’s why I love her,” Adrien stood up fully and collapsed his baton, sticking it to the magnetic patch on the lower back of his suit. “When I discovered that Marinette was Ladybug, I realised that I was lucky to love someone so brave. Yeah, I was kinda mad at first that she hadn’t told me that she was Ladybug but she did it to protect me.”

“Mari is the perfect Ladybug,” Nino pressed a kiss to the top of Alya’s head, a grin breaking across his face. “You love her, eh?”

“Dammit, Speilberg, that’s what you take from this?” Alya rested her chin against his chest and looked up at him with round eyes. 

“It’s alright, Alya,” Adrien chuckled awkwardly. “I told Nino that I had a crush on Mari during the holidays and he’s been trying to get me to admit to it for weeks.”

“Hell yeah, I have,” Nino rested his arms on Alya’s shoulders and rubbed his chin against her forehead, drawing an annoyed groan from the red-head in his hold. “So you know that Mari is Buggaboo but she doesn’t know that you’re Kitty boy?”

“Yeah,” Adrien chewed his bottom lip, ripping a flake of skin off.

“We know that Mari is Buggaboo and that you’re Kitty boy but she doesn’t know that we know and she also doesn’t know that we know that she doesn’t know,” Nino nodded his head, rubbing his chin against Alya’s forehead again, she struggled to pull out of his grip.

“Basically,” Adrien watched Alya wriggle around in Nino’s grip, trying to make him let go of her. With a grin and a wink toward Adrien, Nino squeezed Alya tighter.

“You’re going to go see her tonight as Chat, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Adrien’s embarrassment flush painted his cheeks again, even Alya hadn’t asked that. 

“Do you do it often?” Alya stopped struggling and turned her head as much as she could to face Adrien, her half crushed smirk just as all knowing as she wanted it to be.

“I haven’t gone and seen her since school started. I haven’t really seen Ladybug either since we sorted out the patrol roster,” Nino loosened his hold on Alya, who simply spun around in his arms and leaned against him.

“Why’re you still here then? Go get her, tiger...cat….dude….Go get her, Kitty boy,” Adrien gave them a wide grin. “Nine-tails and I have got tonights patrol, we’re gonna get on the same page about all-a this.”

“Thanks, Nino, you’re the best,” Adrien walked over to Nino who fully let go of Alya and pulled Adrien into a tight hug. Adrien hugged his best friend back.

“I didn’t mean it, man. I understand that you didn’t tell me cause you wanted to keep Al and I safe. It means so much to me that you did it for us,” Nino’s voice was soft, a level that only Adrien was meant to hear but the enhanced hearing that came with Alya’s Fox miraculous meant that she’d heard them too. “I’d ask you to stay safe but that’s impossible in this line of work, so just...don’t get yourself killed. Love you, man.”

“Love you too, Speilberg,” Adrien squeezed a little tighter and lifted Nino off the ground slightly. Nino was taller than him so it wasn’t easy but it didn’t stop him. The two boys let each other go and engaged in their rather complicated handshake. Alya flung herself at Adrien and pulled him into a bone crushing hug before letting go and walking to stand beside Nino.

“Don’t hurt her, Agreste,” Alya’s voice was barbed as she gave him her warning. “I don’t care if you’re this jackasses best friend,” Alya pointed her thumb at Nino. “I will gut you, understand?”

“I understand,” Adrien swore with his hand over his heart. They walked across the roof to the edge, Nino glanced at Alya who nodded. Nino vaulted himself over the edge, leaving Alya lingering in the dimming sunlight, a halo of gold illuminating her orange and white costume.

“Please, let her tell you first,” Alya’s voice was soft and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. What she was crying about, Adrien didn’t know. “Don’t tell her that you’re Chat Noir until she asks, please don’t force her to come out as Ladybug to you either; you’ll stress the ever loving shit out of Mari if you do and it could send you both right into Hawkmoth’s clutches. She is the sweetest, strongest, most wonderful girl I have ever met but she carries her life on the head of a pin and the slightest wobble could send everything she has falling to the ground. She loves you, as Adrien and as Chat, but you need to let her tell you first.”

“Tikki said the same thing,” Alya gave him a confused look, her head tipping slightly. “The Ladybug Kwami.”

“Great minds think alike,” Alya laughed through her nose. “But give her time, Adrien, her heart is made of glass and we don’t want her to shatter. You might think that telling her that you know, that Nino and I know, would make things easier for her but rocking the boat before she has a lifejacket on will kill her. The work Mari does for Jagged Stone, her designs, her friendships, her grades, her job at her parent’s bakery, and her life as Ladybug are all on the line.”

“I promise you, Alya, I’ll take care of her and I won’t do anything to hurt her. You have my full permission to bury me in an unmarked grave if I do,” Alya slid her foot slightly over the edge of the roof, her heel planted on what was left of the roof beneath her.

“It’s laughable that you think I need your permission,” Alya leapt off the roof, leaving Adrien all alone, watching the space where she’d been until the forms of both her and Nino could be seen racing across the roofs through the glaring, setting sun.

Immediately after Alya and Nino had disappeared into Paris, Adrien had made his way to Marinette’s where he still stood, watching the now cooling wind pick up the wisps of her fringe. Exhaling his nervousness, Adrien started to move across the roofs into Marinette’s line of sight, he saw her head perk up as her eyes locked onto him. She had been waiting for him after all. Her smile set a blaze burning in his stomach, his chest, and his head, with a full and dimpled grin he catapulted onto her balcony and drew her into an embrace.

~~~~~~TAGLINE~~~~~~ @lady-charinette @katieykat513 @nifflerstorm @mochegato @aussie-lesbian @maniic-pixie-dream-girl

DM to be tagged :P

[elisaphoenix13]

What if Peter found an animal on the way back from school and just couldn't resist bringing it home but like tried to hide it and fails almost immediately? Thought it'd be cute! Especially in your writing style. (which I can't get over seriously, I spent a whole night reading all of these fics they're my life! 💓💓💓)

A Supreme Pet

Peter, MJ, and Ned step outside and the vigilante groans when they find that it's pouring rain. He had to walk home today and in the pelting rain wasn't exactly his idea of fun.

"I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind giving you a ride home." Ned says.

Peter shakes his head. "It's fine."

"Aren't you supposed to call someone when it's cold out and Happy isn't here?" MJ asks. "Pretty sure you don't want to turn into a spider popsicle again."

"It's just rain. Snow is a completely different story." Peter says with a roll of his eyes. 

MJ shrugs. "It was nice knowing you loser. I'll be sure to play a jack-in-the-box at your funeral."

Peter and Ned laugh as the girl walks away once she pulls up her good, and the two boys go their separate ways after doing their handshake. The vigilante had barely turned the corner from his school before he was already soaked through his clothes. He imagined that he must have looked like a drowned rat, and he was beginning to wonder if maybe he should have called someone.

That was until he heard a pitiful mewl and he went searching for the source of the noise in a nearby alley. If it had been anyone else, the sound would have been drowned out by the downpour, but since it was Peter and he had enhanced senses, he was able to hear it easily enough. He was also already soaked so he figured spending a few minutes looking for the poor creature wouldn't make a difference. Peter moves aside a few boxes and grins when he finally reveals a grey tabby kitten shivering between the brick wall of a building and a box he had yet to move.

"Hey buddy. You look how I'm starting to feel." Peter slowly reaches out and smiles when the kitten doesn't dart away or swipe at him, and gently picks it up. "No tags. There's no shelter on the way home either. Normally I'd go out of my way..." The teen shrugs and unzips his hoodie to bundle the kitten within before zipping it back up. "Sorry, it's not dry, but at least you aren't getting pelted anymore."

The tabby mews quietly in response, and Peter  continues his walk to the subway, and then eventually the tower. He would probably have to hide the cat from his parents as they would probably make him get rid of it, but it was also possible they would let it stay until the rain let up. Unless Stephen opened a portal to an animal shelter. That was always a possibility.

Tony might drop kick it out of the towers front door like in the cartoons. Although the image was funny, he wouldn't let it happen. Peter would rather go back out into the rain and walk to the nearest shelter. Stephen would raise hell if he tried though. When it came to Peter, he was a parent first, if the teen tried to walk back out in the rain already soaked, he would be a parent and a doctor.

Which was surprisingly worse than Mama Bear.

Peter sighs with relief when he finally makes it to the tower and he steps into the lobby with an apology to the receptionist for the watery mess he makes as he walks to the private elevator. He rides the elevator up to the family floor, thanks whatever god was watching over him that his parents were nowhere to be seen, and darts into his room. He quietly closes the door behind him and unzips his hoodie when he walks into his connecting bathroom and gently sets the kitten on the counter by the sink. It had taken to the subway (and the actual walk) very well, which made things a lot easier for Peter. He'd hate to think how the trip would have gone if the tabby fought the entire way.

"Okay. So far so good...but you gotta stay quiet if you want to stay." The kittens meows and Peter shushes it.  "None of that! Let's get you dried off. Stay."

Peter points at the cat as if it will help the creature understand, and slowly backs out of the room to change into some dry clothes. He throws his wet clothes into the tub (he didn't want to ruin the carpet and get yelled at by Tony), and grabs a towel hanging on the rack before carefully drying the kitten. He remembers a hair dryer stored under the sink, pulls it out after tossing the towel to the side (exposing a scraggly looking, and somewhat happier kitten) and turns it on to the lowest setting. He tests pointing it at the tabby and almost laughs out loud when the kitten actually starts to purr at the welcome heat.

"Not much bothers you does it?" The cat stretches out to enjoy the warm air and dry more of its body and Peter jumps when someone knocks on his bedroom door. "Just a second!"

"Pete! Did you walk home?!" Tony's muffled voice filters through.

"Uh...yeah? I'm fine!" Peter sneezes and he curses when his bedroom door opens. Of course his body would tell his father otherwise.

"That sneeze tells me differently. Are you drying your--" Tony stops when he rounds the corner and his attention immediately focuses on the now dry kitten.

Peter sheepishly turns off the hair dryer and puts it away. "There wasn't a shelter on the way home. I would have gone out of my way, but the rain was coming down really hard and I was already soaked--"

The teen is interrupted by Tony resting his forehead against his and he almost crosses his eyes at the sudden close-up. "Jesus kid...you're already running a fever."

"I'm fine!"

"I can get Mama Bear in here and you can tell him that."

Peter grumbles. "No thanks. He just looks at me and knows."

Tony moves back away. "Exactly. Now you and the fuzzball get into bed and warm up."

"I have to find something to feed him first. I'm hungry too!" Peter complains.

"If you can wait, I'll get Barnes up here to make you some soup and have FRIDAY order some cat stuff."

"Stuff?" The teen asks curiously.

"Stuff." Tony confirms and hoists the much happier kitten under one arm and leads his son by his shoulder to his bed with his other hand. "He's kind of cute. If you promise to take care of him, you can keep him."

Peter's head spun for two reasons. One, Tony's reaction to the cat was not at all what he was expecting, and two, he was starting to feel the other symptoms of a cold coming on. Even before the spider bite, whenever he got sick, it wasn't gradual. It came on fast. Now that Peter was a little more relaxed now that he made it home, the effects of walking through a storm was starting to hit him, and hit him hard. He was definitely feeling the fever, he felt sluggish, stuffed up, and his throat started to burn a bit. No doubt the start of a sore throat.

"...really?" Peter asks skeptically.

"Sure. Maybe we'll make him a lab cat when he's older." When Peter scrunches his nose, Tony winces at what he accidently implied. "Not as a test subject. Yeesh. Like an office pet."

Peter sighs with relief. "Oh. Okay. Sounds good then." He crawls into bed and Tony drops his furry burden onto the bed once the teen settles. The kitten happily curls up against Peter and purrs loudly when Tony affectionately scratches it's head. 

"I have some work to do so Mom will probably be the one to bring in your soup and the cat stuff."

Peter nods. "Kay...thanks Dad."

"Stay in bed unless--"

"I know. I know."

Unless there's an emergency or if Tony or Stephen give him the okay. The engineer pats the teens head and leaves the bedroom and Peter turns on his tv, asking Karen to put on one of the Star Wars movies. Halfway through the movie, the teen turns his attention to the kitten curled against him and he props himself up to regard the small creature.

"I guess you need a name huh?" The tabby continues to snooze away and Peter smiles. "I could give you a Star wars name but then Dad would never stop griping and moaning." The teen gently scratches behind tiny ears. "Oh I know!" Peter says with a grin. "I'll go Disney instead. Tibbs! You kind of look like a Tibbs anyway."

"Is it sad that I know that comes from A Hundred and One Dalmations?" Stephen asks from Peter's open doorway and the boy laughs.

"Maybe a little? It also means I've succeeded in beating Disney stuff into your head."

"It will just be filed away with seemingly useless music trivia." Stephen drawls as he steps in with a bowl of soup in one hand and a couple bags of cat supplies in the other.

The soup was immediately handed to the teen once he sits up fully, and the bags were dropped onto Peter's desk. The sorcerer uses his magic to set up everything in the teen's room, with the explanation that it would probably be broken or made a mess of by the team if they set up the food and water bowls out in the kitchen, and then gently picks up the kitten who mews at being disturbed from his nap. Peter was pretty sure the tabby forgave Stephen though as soon as he was introduced to food and water because Tibbs practically inhaled the food. Once he finished with his meal, he kept himself entertained with his new ball and Stephen chuckles as he sits next to Peter. The occasional tinkle of Tibbs' ball and Peter's movie being the only things to fill the comfortable silence.

"I think Tibbs is a good idea for you." Stephen says after a couple of minutes.

Peter looks up from his soup. "What do you mean?"

"He might help with your sensory attacks."

"Huh...I never thought of that. I thought you liked when I came to you with those though."

Stephen smiles softly. "Maybe Tibbs can be an emergency anchor if me or Tony aren't here." He takes the empty bowl when Peter finishes his soup and sets it on the nightstand. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

Peter shakes his head. "Wasn't really tired. Just felt crappy."

"What about now?"

"A little now that I ate." The teen admits with a small yawn.

"Is Tibbs going to bother you?" Stephen asks as the tabby races across the floor to chase after his ball.

"Nah. Will he bother you?"

"Are you asking me to stay?"

"Only if the cat won't bother you."

"Move over Spiderling."

Stephen gets into the bed next to the teen and allows the boy to curl up, and turns his attention to the tv once they both get comfortable. Peter was always clingier than usual when he wasn't feeling well so either he or Tony would cuddle up with him until he fell asleep. If it was just a nap, they stayed and just watched tv, worked, or read a book. Stephen decided on tv once he changed the movie, and also kept an eye on the new kitten to make sure it didn't tear anything up or have any accidents. From what little Tony was able to tell him when his husband found him to let him know Peter had gotten sick, the kitten was calm and friendly so it would hopefully be easy to train it.

Stephen started by scruffing Tibbs with his magic and setting him in his litter box when he started to sniff around. He wouldn't let an accident happen on his watch, and especially not when Peter wasn't feeling well.