#Oh sweetie snaps are very complicated for little ones

[mama-scarebear]

The snapps are harddd. Help pease?👉👈🥺🥺

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Soulmates? (pt 2/2)

Part 1

(fic title will change as I've decided this is a series and "Soulmates?" will be the series title)

Word Count: 1594

Rating: teen

Pairings: Royalogicality, Anxceitmus, pre-DLAMPR/LAMP

Warnings: polyamorous negotiations, anger, anxiety

~~~START~~~

It was almost two weeks before the six of them could sit down and have a conversation.  

The marks on Logan’s face had barely faded at all by the time he returned to classes the next day, but any questions his students may have had were quickly silenced by what Roman called his ‘death glare’. Remy was a little harder to shake, but a promise of coffee every day for a month was enough to get them to drop the topic… for the time being, at least.  

Virgil was released from the hospital the day after the crash, but Janus’s more extensive injuries kept him detained for almost a week.  

Then Roman had been swamped with work since the opening night of his theater’s musical was less than a month away.  

But now all of their schedules finally lined up.  

Logan, Patton, and Roman were all sitting on the couch in their living room while Virgil took one arm chair and Janus took another. Remus sat on the floor between them holding on to each of their hands and blithely plowing through the obvious tension between the two in a way only Remus could.  

Patton had been baking nonstop for days in preparation for this meeting, so the coffee table was laden with different types of pastries and desserts.  

All of which had so far gone untouched as everyone pointed looked at anything but each other.  

“I will begin if no one has any objections,” Logan said eventually, deciding that the best way to start was to just jump right in.  

“That sounds perfect, Lolo.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Joy of joys.” 

Logan ignored Virgil and Janus’s less than optimal responses.  

“I am not an expert on feelings, but I am well aware that this will likely be a complicated mess of them. I have no intentions on pressuring anyone into any type of relationship that they are uncomfortable with, nor do I intend to pressure anyone to end any relationships that they are currently in, and I know that Roman and Patton feel the same.”  

This last part was spoken directly towards Remus, who seemed to release some of the tension that he was very pointedly pretending that he didn’t feel.  

“It’s not my intention to take anything from you,” Roman said quietly, speaking directly to his brother.  

“Oh, so now Virgil and I are just objects to you?” Janus demanded, finally letting his dismissive attitude drop in favor of burning anger.  

“Janus!” Virgil hissed.  

“That’s not what I said!” Roman objected loudly.  

“Isn’t it?” Janus snapped. “This is the problem with soulmates! The universe throws some stupid blotches on your skin and suddenly people think they have some kind of claim over you! It’s bullshit!” 

“Janny–” 

Janus yanked his hand out of Remus’s grasp. “I need a smoke.” 

He stormed out of the room as best he could while supporting his weight unsteadily on two crutches, seconds later the walls shook slightly as the front door slammed shut behind him.  

Remus looked torn for a moment before seeming to make up his mind. He hopped to his feet, kissed Virgil hand before releasing it, and hurried off after Janus.  

Once Remus was gone, Virgil brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his good arm around them, curling himself into a ball on the armchair.  

The four of them sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Patton decided to break it.  

“I’m sure it’ll be okay, kiddo,” he said gently, looking for all the world like he’d like nothing better than to wrap the other man up in a warm blanket and hold him for a while.  

“Easy for you to say,” Virgil muttered into his knees. “You’re not losing anything.” 

“Oh sweetie, we’re not trying to take anything from you!” Patton gasped, jumping to his feet. He froze when Virgil shrunk into himself, looking to Logan and Roman uncertainly.  

“It’s not you guys,” Virgil said, his words barely intelligible with how little escaped the fabric of his ripped jeans. “I’m sure you guys are fine or whatever. Janus hates soulmates — he thinks they’re a blight on free will.” 

“I can see why that would be a mark against the three of us,” Logan conceded thoughtfully. “But why would that affect his relationship with you? As far as I’m aware, neither of you knew the other one was your soulmate, therefore you both chose each other out of your own free will.” 

Virgil shrugged and didn’t reply.  

Logan looked to Roman and Patton, hoping one of them would know what to do now. After a moment, Roman cleared his throat.  

“And, what about you?” He asked.  

“What?” Virgil lifted his head from his knees to look at the three of them again.  

“What are your thoughts on soulmates?” Roman asked. “If you share in Janus’s sentiments then I believe our part in this drama has come to an end — none of us wish to pursue a relationship that is unwanted by any party involved — but if you’re amenable then perhaps… erm…” 

Roman faltered, losing steam as he lost confidence in his point.  

“I mean,” Virgil said slowly. “I’m not necessarily against soulmates, it’s just… fate just kinda throws you in with some strangers, y’know? And then you’re just expected to be in a relationship with them.” 

“It doesn’t have to be romantic,” Patton pointed out, easing his anxiety by reorganizing his pastries on the table. “I’m not sure, I mean, after so long with Lo and Ro, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable jumping right in with more people. We can be friends! And if all we ever are is friends then that’s a-okay with me.” 

“And if romantic feelings someday develop,” Logan continued. “Then we can have another discussion later. The important thing for right now is that everyone is comfortable with how we proceed.” 

“I– yeah, that sounds good to me,” Virgil admitted, hiding the smile that tugged at his lips behind the sleeve of his hoodie.  

<(^-^)> 

By the time Janus and Remus returned, Patton had fully won over Virgil with terrible puns and delicious snacks, and Virgil and Roman were now engaged in a raging debate over Disney.  

“It was to lift a curse!” Roman gasped, playfully horrified. “What’s with all the prince-hate, Doctor Gloom?” 

“Gee, I wonder.” Virgil had adopted a much more relaxed pose with his back against one armrest and his legs thrown over the other. Patton had gotten him to try several of his creations, and Virgil had taken a plate of brownies to hoard in his lap and protect fiercely — not that any of them would have taken it from him.  

Janus cleared his throat from the doorway and the lighthearted mood instantly died. Virgil swung his legs off of the armrest and hunched in on himself once more. Janus surveyed the scene for a moment before turning to the three soulmates sharply.  

“Would you three mind giving us a minute?” 

“This is our house!” Roman objected at the same time Patton said “sure thing, kiddo!” 

Patton hopped to his feet and dragged Roman into the kitchen. Logan followed behind at his own pace only once Virgil had nodded in confirmation.  

Remus looked like he was going to stay, but Janus snapped at him too. “You too, Re.” 

Remus pouted but followed his brother and company to the kitchen.  

The four of them stood around in awkward silence, whatever Janus and Virgil were saying was quiet enough that all Logan could make out was a faint rumble of voices — which may have been a good sign in and of itself as they weren’t yelling. Remus was pacing nervously and Roman, unsure of where his relationship with his brother currently stood, looked torn between comforting him and staying out of his way.  

After several minutes, they heard the telltale clacking of crutches approaching the kitchen.  

Remus all but jumped Janus as he walked through the doorway, Virgil behind him.  

“Well?” Remus demanded, taking Janus by the shoulders.  

Janus looked at Remus, a softer expression on his face than Logan had seen. “All’s well, darling. Can we go home now?” 

“Yes!” Remus answered immediately.  

“No!” Roman objected loudly.  

Janus’s expression soured again. “Why not?” 

“We haven’t settled anything!” 

“What Roman means to say,” Logan cut in quickly. “Is that we still have some unresolved issues that need addressing.” 

“I see no issues,” Janus said coldly. “I don’t want any type of relationship with you past you being Remus’s brother and his partners. You said you wouldn’t force me to do anything I don’t want and I don't want you.” 

With that, Janus pushed past Virgil and left the house.  

Remus looked after him a moment before turning to Roman. “Are you still mad at me?” 

“What? No!” Roman fumbled. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Nah. Talk to you later, Ro bro. C’mon Vee.” 

Virgil frowned, looking extremely uncomfortable again.  

“Lemme get you some leftovers before you go!” Patton insisted, taking a tupperware to the living room to fill with desserts.  

Virgil shifted from foot to foot, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.  

“Virgil,” Logan said. Virgil turned his lead slightly, not quite looking at Logan, but enough to show he was listening. “You can do whatever if you, Remus has our numbers if you so wish.” 

“Sure. Thanks.” Virgil took the desserts from Patton and followed Remus out of the house, leaving the three soulmates alone in their home once more.  

“Well,” Roman said after a couple minutes. “That actually went better than I was expecting.” 

~~~END~~~

Two years? No I think you're mistaken, it hasn't been two years...

Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @vash-the-trans-catboy @dazzling-in-diamonds

[brutallycarnage]

Tate Langdon x Reader

Payphone Memories (Episode 1)

TW: Gun violence, gore, Tate Langdon is a warning himself

Pair: Tate Langdon x Reader

Prologue 

The payphone is where I remember spending a large portion of my high school career. It was separated from most of the school, off in a hallway that led to a dead end. In fact, there were two payphones. It was a big fancy L.A school after all. The more popular payphone was near the cafeteria. Of course, this one had its fair share of use.. But, during classes, nobody really showed up around here. Which made it prime for hiding from classes. Tate and I spent a lot of time on this payphone. His mother didn’t work so it was typical of her to use up all their hours on their personal line at Tate’s house. At mine, however, we didn’t exactly have the money to make phone calls all willy-nilly. We really liked to make prank calls. Nobody was safe, and we especially loved to mess with his mothers boyfriend, Larry. Sometimes, I feel myself really missing those times. Leaning against the tiles of the wall, cold to the touch. Tate, his beautiful eyes - the way they crinkled up and shined in the light when he laughed. The dimples of his cheeks, sitting in his room at night, blasting Nirvana or Blondie. Man, Tate hated listening to Blondie. He owned it on cassette for me though. That’s what worked about Tate and I; our abilities to adapt for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Nirvana! I’m just a sucker for punk music. As time went on though, we began to fight more. Tate got involved with some bad habits, so I tried to get him help. He didn’t want it though, he didn’t think anything was wrong. Eventually, he ended up just.. Snapping, at some point or another. I never wanted to break up with Tate Langdon, but after he changed from the sweet, innocent boy I grew up with, it wasn’t healthy for either of us to continue seeing each other. He grew more angrier, more hateful by the day. Of course, that was an effect of his addiction. He didn’t think I noticed the way his nose always ran now, and the rapid weight loss he exhibited. In part, I could understand why. His little sister Rose died from complications to her autoimmune disease a few years prior, and so did his little brother Bo. But obviously, it wasn’t an excuse for the way he treated me. Every little thing I did set him off. He screamed at me once for breathing too loudly. I try to push the fonder memories forward, like the time I caught him listening to Heart of Glass when I showed up to surprise him one evening. I never let him live it down.

Present Day

(Third Person)

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring. Vivienne turned around to glance at the landline on the wall. The ringing interrupted her fruitful efforts to get the kitchen clean.  ‘Strange’ She thought to herself. ‘We never paid for a landline. Maybe Ben did without telling me? I know Violet’s into all that nostalgic stuff.’ Vivienne’s hand meets with the cool sage green plastic. She pulls it off of the receiver, and holds the phone to her ear. “Hello..?” Vivienne says with confusion. “Oh, uh, hi! Sorry, I was sort of expecting someone else.” A soft voice spoke up over the phone, one of female origin. Vivienne assumed it may have been one of Violet’s school friends or Ben’s patients. She sounded quite young.  The phone tone distorted her voice, making it sound crackly. “Oh, no worries sweetie! Who are you trying to reach? I can take a message.” Vivienne said, leaning against the wall. “Oh uh, an old friend used to live here. I was just calling to talk. Are you the new owners of their house?” “Uh, Yes! We just moved in a little while ago. Are you in the neighborhood? I think I have a daughter in your age range.” “You could say that. My parents are pretty strict, so I’m not allowed out of the house very often.” “Well, if you ever need a friend, my daughter Violet I’m sure would be happy to hang out with you!” “Thank you miss..?” “Call me Viv, Viv Harmon. And you?” “Y/N.” “Well, Y/N, it’s nice to informally meet you. I have to go now, but don’t be a stranger. Bye bye!” “Bye.” Click. Ben enters the kitchen, admiring his wife and the now clean counters and appliances. “Hey Viv, who were you talking to?” Ben says, wrapping his arms around Vivienne and looking over her shoulder to watch her wash the dishes. Vivienne gestures over to the landline, still paying attention to the dishes in the sink. “Oh, a girl from the neighborhood called. She was curious about who had moved in.” “Uh, the landline.. Works? Did you get it set up?” Vivienne turns around quickly, confused. “Uh, no. I thought you did? Yeah, she called it.” Ben walked over to the landline, pulling the phone off the receiver and test dialing on the keypads. Nothing. The line didn’t work. “Viv.. Are you.. Sure?” And thus, another argument broke out between the oldest members of the Harmon family.

Y/N leans against the cool tile once more, letting the phone hang off the receiver, listening to the ringing. She was desperate for some sort of mental stimulation that wasn’t the sealed-off school hall she currently sat in. Of course, it wasn’t actually 1994 anymore. Those memories she recalled have been rehearsed and repeated in her head for 17 years now, she wasn’t even sure if they were right at this point. Was Tate who she remembered him to be? Had he been that awful all along? Was she clinging onto something good to keep up hope? She wasn’t entirely convinced. Had she even ever existed at all? She hated when she felt like this. One more time, one more time she’d go over what happened. Then she’d stop, but she needed to do it one more time, just to make sure she still remembered all the details. Gunshot blasts, the smell of blood, Tate.. No.. No.. Tate, then gunshot blasts. Or was it blood first? She felt hopelessly lost as she anxiously picked at her blood caked cuticles. She inhaled, trying to calm herself. Tate.. Gunshots.. Blood.. Yeah, that feels right.

Trigger Warning: Gun Violence (will not impact the story if you skip it! Please keep yourself safe <3)

Y/N opens her eyes, she feels her heart hammer in her chest. She’s desperately loading change into the payphone, poking at the buttons. 9..1…1.. She feels a little bit of relief as the phone rings and picks up almost immediately. “911, what’s your emergency?” A feminine voice rumbles in her ear. Y/N keeps a hushed voice, eyes glued on the only entrance way into the hall. “Someone’s shooting in my school. We need the police-” The doors swing open. Tate. No, no.. Please, let him be okay. Why did he have blood on him? Did he get hurt?

Trigger Warning over!

Y/N feels a pair of hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently. A concerned looking Stephanie Boggs was greeting her gaze. “Hey, you okay? You were just.. Standing here?” Stephanie says, tilting her head. “Yeah.. Yeah.. It’s just.. The flashbacks are happening again. I called again, Steph. I don’t know why I did. Someone else lives in the house now.” She stammers, leaning into Stephanie’s firm hold. Stephanie kept her mouth shut. She didn’t know Tate before the massacre, she knew it was hard to deal with just dealing with being murdered in general. She couldn’t imagine it being someone she loved. Stephanie took a moment to take in her friend's appearance. Y/N had three visible gunshot wounds. The first being on the left side of her chest, second in her neck and third splitting open the side of her jawline. Her s/c was stained with dry blood, along with the ends of her h/c hair. “Everything is starting to get to me again. I thought I was okay with all of this now.” Y/N waved her arm in reference to the payphone, avoiding eye contact with Stephanie. “You always get antsy like this near halloween. Doesn’t help that you’re tethered to this fuck-ass phone 364 days out of the year. Just think, 4 more days and we can go do something fun during the day. Maybe this year is the year Langdon decides to speak up when we confront him. Closure, or whatever.” Stephanie tried distracting her, unsure if it was working. Y/N shook her head in a ‘no’ motion, “This is different, Steph. Something is going to happen. I haven’t felt this pull in a decade.” Stephanie frowned in response, letting go of Y/N and walking down the hall towards the exit. And just like that, alone again. Y/N remembers the first year the massacre had occurred. People she didn’t know stopped by a lot and left flowers and small trinkets as offerings. Each student that year got a vigil where they passed away on their birthdays. It was nice not to be alone. To see some life in these dark hallways. Of course, as the years went on, nobody visited much anymore. Just the occasional odd teenager looking to ghost hunt or write a history report. There was a plaque with her name on it next to the payphone now. With the rise of technology, she supposed there was no use for the payphone anymore anyways. She figured with the time she had to think until Halloween, she’d plan out what she’d say to Tate on Halloween.

A/N: Howdy! This is my first ever fic! I will be making the chapters longer as I get more practice. But I hope you liked it!

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 12:

ℓєє мαяк

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @mrcarbonatedmilk @unknown5tar @whathamelon @ajhdr @curieouscapt @silent-potato @gjheaaa

warnings: baby daddy mark, hidden pregnancy (?, tooth rotting.

“Dude, isn't that y/n?” Mark’s old friend, John, pointed at you.

Yeah, that was most definitely his ex. You were holding a small girl between your arms, helping her reach for a box of lucky charms. You looked just as beautiful as three years ago, even more, he daresay.

“Go talk to her.” His friend elbowed him. “I’ll go get the meat, maybe you can invite her to our barbecue.”

“We haven't seen each other in a while, don't you think it'll be a little too weird?”

“Go for it, I know you're still hung up on her.”

“How...?”

“I heard your last girl complaining about how you called y/n’s name while having sex with her, it was hilarious, to be honest.” Mark punched him in the arm, earning a small groan from the tall man. “But seriously, though, you broke up with her to focus on your career. Now that you have a stable job, what's stopping you from getting her back?”

“I don't know, man...”

“Give it a try, I'll be with the butcher if you need me.” He winked at the Canadian boy, making his way to another aisle.

Mark took a deep breath before his feet finally started moving. You were placing the small girl in the shopping cart’s seat, tickling her tummy while at it.

“Y/n?” Your eyes almost came out of their caves as you heard his voice.

“Mark...” You stared at him with wide eyes, looking back and forth between the little girl and him. “I thought you’d moved back to Canada.”

“I came back a year ago.” He fiddled uncomfortably with the rings adorning his fingers. “I really wanted to contact you, but since things between us were a little complicated when I left...” By complicated he meant breaking your heart and leaving a day after ending things between you.

“It’s really okay, Mark. No hard feelings.” You smiled sweetly at him, your pretty eyes turning into half moons.

“And who’s this little one? Your niece?” He caressed the top of the girl’s head, who wasn’t even aware of his presence, too focused on getting rid of the wrapping around the chocolate you’d just bought her.

“Actually-”

“Mommy, I need help!” Mark froze.

“Oh, sure sweetie.” You tone completely changed when addressing her. “Mark, this is my daughter, EunHee. Say hi, baby.”

“Hi, Mark.” She extended her hand as you tore the wrapping of the chocolate bar open. His surprised expression turned into a big smile, covering her small hand with his significantly bigger one. “Look, mom. His cheeks are just like mine!” She poked Mark’s cheekbones.

You could almost feel a drop of sweat rolling down your forehead.

“Wait, you're right.” The Canadian man pointed out as your daughter smiled at him. “That's crazy.” Thank God Mark was so naive. “So where’s the father of this little bean?”

‘Right in front of me.’ You thought.

“She doesn't...”

“Oh, sorry. It must've been hard raising her on your own.” He reassuringly placed a hand on your arm. “How old is she?”

“Uhm, s-she’s-”

“I’m this old.” EunHee interrupted, showing her three small fingers.

You hoped Mark’s brain capacity wouldn't be enough to connect the dots. But you had to admit, it was pretty obvious.

“Wow, you're so big.” It was heart-warming watching your daughter interact with her father for the first time, even if they didn't know the truth about each other. “So, we're having a barbecue at my place today. There’s always room for someone else, and you can bring EunHee if you’d like. My address is still the same.”

“I’ll think about it.” You handed the chocolate bar back to your daughter, who didn’t even take a second to eat up the whole thing.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you then, maybe.”

(...)

“Mark’s hitting on a mom!” Yuta mocked him, causing the whole garden to erupt into laughter.

“And what’s wrong with that? She isn’t married.”

“Mark, you literally just met with her again after three years, slow down.” Jaehyun interceded, eyes stuck to his phone.

“Guys, stop messing with Mark. He's always loved y/n, so let him be.” Johnny spoke from the grill, turning around a steak. “Besides, I saw the little girl. She looks a lot like Mark, so I bet no one would be able to tell they're not actually related.”

“How old did you say she was?”

“Three.”

“Okay, don’t be mad at me, but did you ever have sex with her without protection?”

“What are you trying to say, Haechan?” Taeil asked bitterly.

“Just think about it, guys. It makes sense.” While his friends discussed the possibility of him being a dad, Mark’s head was rather busy trying to remember every little detail from the last time he was intimate with you.

But as much as he tried, he couldn't remember having worn a condom. And as far as he knew, you weren't on the pill.

The doorbell cut his string of thoughts, snapping him back into reality.

“I’ll get the door.” He didn't expect you to be behind it, holding your -and possibly his- daughter’s hand tightly. “Oh, hey.”

He seemed uncomfortable, had you made a mistake in accepting his offer?

“Hi, I couldn't find someone to look after this little monster. I hope your friends won't mind.”

“Not at all, they love kids.” He stared intensely at your daughter, finally noticing those similarities Johnny mentioned before. “Come in.”

He guided you all the way to the backyard, everyone greeting you with a big hug.

“Nice to see you again, y/n.” Johnny murmured, patting your back.

“She’s like a little doll!” Jaehyun squeaked excitedly, sitting your daughter on his lap. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m EunHee.” He cooed at her high-pitched voice tone. “Your dimples are pretty.”

“Thank you.”

The boys seemed completely comfortable with your daughter, fighting with Jaehyun, who wouldn't let go of her.

“Can I have a word with you?” Mark came from behind you, making you jolt at his sudden presence.

“Sure.”

He walked you to the kitchen, away from the noisy men outside. He anxiously twisted his hands, trying to find the correct words to demand for the truth.

“What’s wrong?” You asked worriedly, taking a step closer to him.

“Is EunHee mine?” Well, you were definitely not expecting that. You thought that after meeting him at the supermarket, your secret was safe. Apparently, it wasn’t. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing she is.”

He groaned in frustration, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands.

“I’m sorry for keeping it a secret all this years. I won’t force you to step in and take responsibility for her, we can just leave and pretend this never-”

“What are you even talking about? Why wouldn’t I want to take care of my own daughter?” The frown on his face deepened. “Did you know you were pregnant when we broke up?”

Should you tell him the truth?

“I...” He looked at you expectantly.

Of course you should tell him the truth, he deserves it.

“Yes.” His heart dropped, guilt filling every inch of his body. “I didn’t want to hold you back. It would’ve been unfair for me to use that as an excuse to stop you from leaving.”

“So you’re saying I missed three years of my daughter’s childhood because you didn’t want to be selfish?” With every word his voice grew louder, shouting by the end of the sentence and catching the other guests' attention.

“Mark, we should talk about this another day, when we’re alone.” You tried leaving, but his hand clutched your wrist tightly.

“No.” You could admire tears sparkling in his eyes. “I don't want to miss another second of her.”

“Mommy?” Just then, EunHee walked into the kitchen, holding Yuta’s hand. “I heard screaming, are you okay?” Mark nodded at his friend, as if signaling him he could leave.

“Yes, I’m alright, sweetie.” You swung her up in your arms, coming closer to Mark who had the sudden urge to hold his baby. “Are you sure about this? There’s no backing out.” You mouthed, feeling a pinch of relief as he nodded. “Baby, I’d like you to meet someone very special.”

“Who?”

“This is Mark...” She looked at you with her small eyebrows furrowed, she’d already met Mark. “Your dad.”

Mark honestly felt like crying, your daughter smiling excitedly as she urged you to put her down, letting her father hold her close to his chest.

“Mommy said you were lost.” He felt so warm inside.

“I promise not to get lost again, alright?” His lips pressed a kiss into her forehead, already enamored by the cheerful giggles erupting from EunHee.

You observed them with regret. If you'd told Mark you were pregnant before he left, perhaps he wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now, perhaps your daughter wouldn't have had to deal with her classmates’ non-stopping questions about her father.

“Y/n?” Mark called out for you. “C-can we have a family hug?” He moved his hand invitingly, making space for you to join.

You walked into his arms, every negative feeling vanishing as Mark embraced you, both of you trying not to sob.

“What do you want to do now?” He let go of you, using both of his arms to embrace EunHee.

“Make up for the lost time.”

[pilothusband]

fly me to the moon

Rating: M-ish (a lil spicy at the end)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, boner mention, a douchebag, a little hint at food shaming

Word count: 2.5k

Description: You go on a date with a complete asshole. He takes you on a helicopter tour, not expecting the pilot to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

Author’s note: Probably should have edited this more but meh. This was completely self-indulgent. Unbeta’d. Let me know what you think!

gif by @pedroispunk

Why did I agree to go out with this jackass in the first place?

Your eyes were starting to feel sore with the amount of times you had rolled them throughout your date. He hadn’t noticed the exasperated movement of your eyes, too swept up in talking about the summer he spent in Ibiza with his former fraternity brothers, his medium rare, overpriced ribeye untouched.

So far, everything had felt off. The way he pulled up outside of your apartment and honked his horn to signal his arrival, the anchor cufflinks in his freshly pressed suit, paired with a pair of leather boat shoes and a salmon-pink button down. You loved a man in pink, but the rest of the outfit just felt like it didn’t fit together. Was he going to a wedding or going to party on a yacht? You had glanced down at your own outfit, a simple black dress that stopped mid-calf and hung loose, just barely hinting at your curves.

God, you hoped he wasn’t going to take you on a boat.

You had only agreed to this date in the first place because Liam, an investment banker who worked in your office building in the suite below yours, had asked you nearly every day for a month in a row. He was persistent, kind of like a mosquito, but you figured you were being too picky and needed to expand your horizons a bit. Maybe you would learn more about him and actually have a good time.

Not so much.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his brows knit together when you had ordered the fettuccine alfredo. The restaurant’s menu was pretty limited, and you didn’t recognize most of the items. This place was just too fancy for your comfort. You had wanted to call the waiter back to the table and change your order to a cheeseburger, just to embarrass him further.

As Liam droned on about how his father had taught him how to manage his finances, you let your mind wander to last weekend. You had gone out with your friends, Benny and Will, a pair of brothers who were each other’s polar opposites, yet they had a bond that was stronger than any other siblings you had ever met.

You were already well acquainted with their other friends, Santiago and Frankie, affectionately known as Pope and Catfish. Pope had a magnetic personality– he commanded the room without meaning to, sometimes to the detriment of others around him, who were trying to get a word in edgewise. 

Frankie was complicated. He was quiet, a little rough around the edges, and a little gruff, but so soft at the same time. His eyes gave way to a deeply settled kind of hurt. They had drawn you in almost right away. It only took one glance at his smile, brilliant and boyish, with a hint of a dimple gracing his cheek, before you were hooked.

You had only known him for a few months now and only saw him when the guys got together, but you couldn’t deny the desire that clutched at your stomach whenever his deep brown eyes met yours.

You heard your date call your name, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready for part two of the best date ever?” Liam asked. His smirk was all wrong. It wasn’t soft or playful. It was polished and practiced. He reminded you too much of Patrick Bateman.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, pasting a smile onto your face, inwardly wincing at how fake it was. You could not wait to go home and put on your sweatpants.

Shit. Holy shit.

He was taking you on a helicopter tour. The same company that Catfish worked for. Your stomach was in knots, threatening an unwelcome return of the alfredo you had for lunch.

Maybe he’s not working today, maybe we’ll get a different pil–

Of course you had no such luck. The guide ushered you both over towards the launching pad, where Frankie stood, wearing a tan flight suit. His hair was tousled, likely from being up in the air for most of the day and he had a pair of aviators on. He looked delectable.

His eyebrows shot up in recognition. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at your date, then back at you, a grimace set on his face.

Frankie schooled his expression and walked up and gave you a side hug, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you,” he said, giving you a small grin.

“You two know each other?” Liam asked, his eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Oh, yes, Liam– this is Frankie. He’s one of my friends.” 

Friends.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Frankie said, shaking his hand politely.

Liam gave Frankie one of his wide, practiced grins. “Likewise.”

You could have sworn you saw Liam wince a little during the handshake, but you chalked it up to pre-flight jitters. Liam slung an arm around your shoulder possessively and chuckled.

“Excited to show this pretty lady some pretty sights.” His fingers curled into your shoulder, a little too hard, and he jostled you a little, trying to come off as a cute gesture. It had you feeling like a rag doll. 

The smile you gave him must have been pretty forced, because Frankie coughed, interrupting the moment.

“All right, folks. Ready to get going?” 

You nodded, feeling a fluttering in your belly. Despite not wanting to be stuck in a helicopter with Liam, you were excited to finally see Frankie in action.

Frankie handed you both a pair of headsets and instructed you to buckle up. Before climbing in himself, he checked Liam’s belt, tightening it a little and then came over to your side, adjusting your belt as well. You risked a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. 

“All set,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile.

Before you knew it, Frankie was in the pilot’s seat and the helicopter roared to life. The blades were whirring above your heads, making your hair whip around your face. You tucked the sides of your dress under your legs, silently cursing Liam for not warning you of this afternoon’s non-dress appropriate activity.

The swoop you felt in your stomach was unlike anything you had felt before, more intense than a commercial flight. You tried not to fidget, knowing you were in good hands with Frankie piloting, but fuck, were you already high up, and only climbing higher by the second.

You briefly wondered how high up you were now, how high up Frankie had ever flown. You planned on asking him once you were all safely back on the ground.

A large gust of wind made its way into the helicopter, forcing a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising on your woefully unprotected arms.

“You cold, sweetie?” Liam asked. “I would give you my jacket but I need it to stay warm. You should have planned better, gorgeous.”

You instantly clenched your teeth, wishing murder was legal at this very moment.

“Well, Liam, I would have brought a jacket if you had told me we were coming here,” you said, voice dripping with a sarcastic, syrupy sweet tone.

“I have a jacket in the compartment in front of you,” Frankie said, glancing over quickly. “Go ahead and put it on.”

You obliged, opening the compartment and bundling up in the oversized jacket, instantly feeling better once the corduroy material covered your arms. You wrapped it around your torso and took a deep breath, hiding your grin in the sherpa collar. It smelled like him.

“Thank you, ‘Fish,” you said softly. He didn’t respond, but you saw his dimple appear out of the corner of your eye.

“All good back there?” You heard Frankie’s voice in your ears. You looked over to him, only catching a glimpse of his hands and the side of his face, partially obscured by his headset and his baseball cap.

“Doing fan-tas-tic, Frank,” Liam whooped. You couldn’t help but wince at how loud his voice was, and how he intentionally pronounced Frankie’s name incorrectly.

“Great,” Frankie sounded unamused.

You huffed, annoyed at your date’s bad manners and looked out the window. Terrible date aside, you had to admit the bay from above was absolutely gorgeous. You looked down at the ocean, so expansive and eternally blue. Your eyes skimmed over to where water met land, at the soft sand on the beach, turning into a thick forest.

“Frankie, it’s beautiful,” you gasped.

You looked over at him briefly, seeing a hint of a smile on his face.

Liam was momentarily forgotten, until his hand snaked its way onto your thigh, giving it a little squeeze. Instinctually, you moved your leg at the unwanted contact. Liam looked over at you, an ugly scowl marring his face.

“Careful with the turns in this thing,” he said, addressing Frankie. “Our girl here ate about 15 pounds of pasta before this.”

You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. They streaked down into your hairline from the force of the wind around you. You had already realized Liam was a bit of a douche, but you hadn’t thought him to be cruel.

“The only thing we have to worry about bringing this thing down is that big head of yours,” Frankie quipped back.

Biting back a laugh, you looked out the window so Liam wouldn’t see your reaction.

You could tell Liam wanted to argue back, but he stayed quiet, since the man he wanted to lash out at was responsible for keeping you all alive at the moment.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, other than the persistent chopping of the helicopter blades. The views were beautiful, but you found your eyes wandering back over to Frankie every few minutes. The tanned skin of his hands as he deftly worked at the throttle. Every time he pulled on a control you saw the veins in his forearms strain with the movement. You wondered what else those hands could do.

Before you knew it, the bird touched down and you unbuckled your seatbelt, removing the tight headset from your ears. You had a slight headache and you could tell getting down was going to be a struggle.

Frankie seemed to have no issue, jumping out of his seat with grace and walking over to your side to help you down. Your legs were shaking, so you stumbled as your feet hit the ground, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

“I– oof, sorry,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your nose. You had bumped into his chest nearly smashing your face into his sternum. Frankie bit his lip and chuckled in response, squeezing your waist. You felt dizzy with his arms caging you in like this. It gave you an overwhelming desire to wrap yourself around him, to feel him pressed against you.

“It’s okay, I got you.” His voice rumbled in your ear, absolutely sending your senses on a tailspin. His strong, quiet voice was doing something magical to your already weak knees.

You stepped away before you fell over, remembering your date after a moment. He was about ten feet away, arms crossed, his face pinched in an angry expression.

“I don’t think this is working out,” he said as you walked over to him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, giving him a sickly sweet grin. “I’ll find another ride home.”

Liam scoffed and made his way back into the tour center to grab his belongings. You instantly felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Thank God he left.

“So, why did you go out with that asshole, anyways?” Frankie asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

You sighed, feeling embarrassed.

“I honestly don’t know. He wouldn’t leave me alone so I decided to give him a shot.”

“I can’t say I blame him for being persistent, but seriously, fuck that guy.”

You huffed a laugh. 

“Seriously, when he made that comment about what you ate for lunch I wanted to throw him right out of the helicopter.”

You bit your lip and sniffed, feeling the embarrassment wash over you at the memory.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” your voice was small and you rubbed at your arms nervously.

Frankie had a hard, angry look on his face. It made you feel a little giddy, that he was so angry on your behalf.

“He should have never talked to you that way. He’s lucky you agreed to go out with his sorry ass.”

“You’re right. And God, I can’t believe he took me here, of all places,” you laughed. This really was surreal.

“Feels kind of like fate, huh?” He said, giving you a boyish grin.

“How so?”

“Well,” he stepped towards you, arms sliding up the material of his jacket. “I’ve always wanted to see you in this jacket.” His gaze made its way down your figure. His eyes were dark as he swallowed heavily.

“And I’ve always wanted to go on a date with you, though not while you’re on one with another man.” The smile he gave you was shy, searching, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react.

“Well, I won’t be making that mistake again,” you replied, stepping closer. 

Your tongue came out to wet your lips and Frankie watched with rapture. 

“I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.” His mouth was an inch from yours, and his large, calloused hands cradled your face gently.

“Please, Frankie,” you sighed.

His lips were soft, despite the bruising urgency in his actions. Your hands immediately tangled into his hair, knocking the cap off his head. You melted against him and licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He immediately complied, licking into your mouth. Your tongues found a delicious rhythm, tangling together. You moaned into his mouth, spurring him on further. His hips pressed into yours. You could feel how hard he was, even through his flight suit.

“Fuck, baby” he rasped, pulling away. His chest was heaving, breath ragged from your kiss. “The things I want to do to you.”

You slanted your hips back into his, pressing into his erection. “Then do them.”

Frankie bit his lip and groaned, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re absolutely perfect for me, you know that?” 

You grinned, leaning forward to capture his lips again.

“I want to do this right, though,” he said. “I’m going to take you out on a better date. Show you how first dates should go. And then I’m going to take you home and show you how much I’ve wanted you for months.”

You felt as if your heart had stopped momentarily.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you said, kissing him again.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo​ @recklessworry @wyn-dixie​ @manalg14​ @codenamewife @comphersjost​ @princessxkenobi​

[sergeantsporks]

Adoption Papers

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

Part 2 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

Camila officially adopts Hunter and Vee

Might be a little hard to explain where they came from, though.

Direct Sequel to “Another Shot at Life”

Ao3

“What’s a social security?”

“What do you mean an ID?”

“Why do we have to do a bunch of paperwork to live here? Luz just lived in Eda’s house for months!”

Camila pinched the bridge of her nose. “Things work differently here than in the Boiling Isles. And if the two of you don’t want me to get arrested for kidnapping, we have to fill out paperwork, and I have to officially adopt you.”

Vee sniffed the papers. “But I’ve already been living here!”

“Yeah, pretending to be me,” Luz reminded her, “Gonna be a liiiiiitle hard to explain why there’s two of us.”

Hunter squinted at the documents. “I used to do paperwork for the coven. But I have no idea what any of this says.” It was all a lot of technical stuff—with a lot of words he didn’t know the meaning of.

Camila sighed. “I’ve filled out most of it, but… we’re going to need to explain where the two of you came from. And ‘wandered in from another dimension’ isn’t something I think we can tell people.”

Luz bounced up. “Ooo! I’ve got it!” She waved a hand. “Vee is my twin sister, separated at birth!”

“Luz, sweetie, the hospital records will say otherwise.”

“Okay, okay, how abooooout… we say that Vee was a home birth, maybe a year younger than me, but Dad took her away with him when he left, and we assumed he’d do all of the registry, but apparently he didn’t? What are they going to do, track him down and ask him? They haven’t managed that yet. We can say that Vee ran away and came home to us.”

“That might work. What about Hunter?”

Luz grinned at him. “We found him living feral in the woods, he was raised by a pack of wolves.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out at her.

“Yeaaah… I don’t think that one’s gonna fly.”

“How about we tell them the truth?” Vee asked, “We say he ran away from a bad situation, and we’ve been taking care of him.”

“What if they start investigating? They’ll ask him questions, definitely, and if they try to figure out who his family is-!”

Luz jumped up and down. “Oooooo, tell them your horrible family chased you, and tried to push you off of a cliff, but they slipped and fell off and died!”

Hunter felt sick. “Pass.”

“Let’s stick to something simple. You and your… uncle… traveled, didn’t have a home, and you slipped away one day. You were camping out in the old abandoned house to hide, Vee found you there and brought you home, and you’ve been living with us ever since.”

“What if they try to figure out who his family is?” Vee asked, “I mean, uncle sounds a lot like he might have just kidnapped him.”

Hunter shrugged. “I’ll tell them my whole family was already dead. Freak boating accident, bodies never found. They were recluses, no one noticed they were missing. I’ll say uhhhhhhhh, I don’t remember their names, because I was a kid, and my uncle never told me our last name.”

Luz squinted at him. “What is your last name?”

“No idea.”

Camila sighed. “This is getting complicated. What if they start trying to figure out where your family lived?”

“Mexico,” Luz said immediately, “But Hunter was born over the border.”

“Does he look Mexican to you?”

“Okay, fine, Canada, whatever!”

“Let’s just… keep it simple, okay, Luz? Hunter, what do you think? This is your story, you have to be able to tell it.”

His story. Okay, who did he want to be? “I think… I think Vee’s idea is good,” he said slowly, “Ran away—I’ll just say he was my uncle. And we were homeless, so there’s nowhere they could track him down to. Even if they DO start looking for my birth family, it’s not like they can actually pull anything up, because I’m not from here. Okay. So, I ran away, made my way to Gravesfield, camped out in the abandoned house for a bit, then Vee found me, uhhhhh…”

“A week ago,” Vee offered.

“Okay, yeah, a week ago.”

“And if they ask for details about your uncle?”

“I’ll just talk about Belos. It’s not like they can find him.”

Camila nodded. “Okay! The closest adoption agency is out of town, but I already scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. First hurdle, guys!”

“First?” Hunter echoed.

“Oh, yeah, we have to get the two of you enrolled in school—”

“School?!”

Luz laughed. “Ohhhhhhh, you’re gonna hate it, Mr. Prodigy.”

“I don’t need school!”

“Yeah? Do you know how to do algebra? How about chemistry? Physics?”

“No?” Hunter looked to Luz. “Those are fake, right?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, they’re all very real.”

“I don’t need those.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Camila interrupted, “For now, let’s just… focus on the adoption, okay?”

She looked… nervous. Which made Hunter nervous.

“What… what happens if they don’t believe me?”

Camila rubbed the back of her head. “I… I don’t know, mijo. If they dig deeper, I… but it will be fine.”

Still, Hunter didn’t sleep that night, his mind running through every possible way that this could go wrong. The next morning, when they loaded up in the car, he could see dark circles under Camila’s eyes, too. It did not make him feel better.

Hunter tossed his palisman gently out the window before they set off, the bird fluttering around his head. “You can’t come with us. Stay here and protect the house, okay?”

The bird chirped in affirmation, flapping back to sit on the roof.

Vee fell back asleep, leaning against him, and he resisted the urge to shake her awake and demand to know how she could possibly not be worried about this.

Hunter hadn’t ever gone outside of Gravesfield, and it was hitting him just now how… huge… the human realm was. He watched countryside flash by outside the car window, and even still, they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

And then buildings loomed in front of him, huge and imposing. Hunter pressed his face against the window. “Is this the capital of the human realm?”

“Ha. No. We’re not even in the capital of Connecticut.”

“Seriously?!”

Hunter watched the streets go by. This world was enormous, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

They had the key on this side, and since he was here, Belos was down one coven head—hypothetically, his uncle couldn’t complete his day of unity plans. But if he did, or if he managed to get back through, somehow…

Hunter was almost confident that this world was big enough for him to hide in.

They pulled up to an office building, and Camila took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing. Come on, kids.”

They all followed behind her into the building, and Camila approached the desk. “Hiiii. I’m Camila Noceda, I have an appointment about a couple of adoptions?”

The desk attendant glanced behind her at the three of them. “Down the hall, first door on the right. Right on time.”

Camila gave the attendant a nod. Hunter and Vee both crowded close to her as they filed into the office. “Hello?”

The woman at the desk looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, a thermos on a table covered in papers. “Hey. Paperwork.”

Camila tentatively handed her the packet, and she disappeared into a back room, coming back out after about ten minutes.

“So, neither of these kids is in the system?”

Camila shook her head. “Neither.”

The woman squinted at Vee. “Certainly looks like your other daughter. Why didn’t you report her father taking her?”

“We… we were separating. We thought he’d already filed everything.”

A grunt. “Alright. You. Other one. Hunter. C’mere.”

Hunter looked to Camila, and she gave him a little nod. He followed the woman into the other room, where she read over his form again. “Tell me about your uncle.”

“What? Why?”

“We need to see if we can find him.”

Hunter’s blood chilled. “I’m not going back!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We need to find him because we just don’t know enough about you—not even your last name. So we need your uncle for more information.”

“You won’t find him.”

“Uh-huh. Let us try, at least. Physical description?”

Hunter sighed. “Tall. Blond but greying, long hair, blue eyes. Old.” Face creeping with slime, occasionally turns into a puddle of goop, can’t miss him.

“His name?”

“Belos.”

“There’s one you don’t hear every day. Last name?”

“Dunno.”

“Right. Of course not. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

The woman sighed. “You’ve got to work with me, here.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole adoption will go a lot more smoothly. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Fine. How long ago did you see him?”

Hunter struggled to remember. Kind of hard to tell when he didn’t know how much time he’d lost falling down into a cursed prison of darkness.

But according to Luz, that had only been for a couple of hours, even if it had felt like forever.

“Two weeks,” he said softly.

Two weeks since he’d been rescued. Two weeks since the worst time of his life.

“And you… ran away?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you explain why?”

Hunter shuddered. “Because I was miserable.”

“Specifically?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t take you away from your uncle if he wasn’t a bad parent, Hunter. If we don’t have any indication he did anything wrong, then he can reclaim you any time he likes, and we are obligated to try to find him and return you to him. I understand that it may be painful to talk about it, but we cannot proceed without information about your past life.”

“Fine,” Hunter snapped, “He hurt me, and he locked me up, and he made me run errands for him and would punish me if I failed, happy?”

A slight pause. “What kind of errands?”

Hunting down palisman so he could drain them of their magic. “Uh… picking up medicine for him.”

“Medicine? What kind?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just picked it up. I didn’t ask questions, it wasn’t encouraged.”

“But you ran away, ended up in Gravesfield, where Camila found you a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Wait outside, send Camila in.”

Hunter shuffled out. “She wants you.”

Camila nodded, disappearing into the other room, closing the door behind her. Vee nudged him. “Are you okay?”

“She was asking about Belos.”

“I’m sorry,” Luz said softly.

Hunter paced back and forth. “What do you think they’re talking about?” He crept closer to the door, pressing his ear to the door.

“Hunter,” Vee hissed, “Get away from there, it’s rude!”

“I want to know what they’re saying,” he hissed back, “Shhhh!”

He pressed his ear to the door again. The voices were faint, but he could make out what they were saying.

“Obviously, if Vee is your biological daughter, there isn’t any reason for us to keep her from you. I don’t think there will be any difficulty with the transition. But Hunter… Ms. Noceda, you may be rushing into more than you can handle.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know him well. We don’t know where he came from, or what he’s done.”

“What he’s done?”

“He’s a liar, ma’am, you wrote that he was homeless, but he claimed his uncle would lock him up. Those two aren’t exactly compatible. He very obviously isn’t telling us everything—and I suspect he may have been part of a drug delivery system without knowledge. If I can believe him that he didn’t know what his uncle’s ‘medicine’ was.”

“Okay, well, let’s just say that I am really, really, really determined to adopt him anyway.”

“I’m really advising you not to. Let us get him into the system, foster him out, see how he does before you go all in on adopting him. He might not even be separated from his uncle—they might be planning to rob or hurt you and your family.”

“Hunter,” Camila thundered, “is not going to hurt us. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to foster him out.”

Hunter pulled back from the door, feeling sick. “Luz, what’s fostering?”

Her face paled. “It’s… it’s when they sort of send you out to different families to take care of you.”

“I don’t want to go to a different family!”

“You won’t,” Luz soothed, “Mom won’t let them take you away. And you can just run away if they do.”

Hunter started to pace, his chest getting tight. “I can’t start running away here, too! That’ll just make all of the adoption stuff harder, right?”

Vee grabbed his hand. “Hunter. Look at me.”

He did, the fingers of his free hand tapping restlessly on the side of his leg.

Vee gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she said firmly, “We aren’t going to leave you behind. Promise.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Good. Now sit down, and just think about other stuff. Like school.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“I’ll teach you algebra,” Vee promised, “They had a whole course on it at summer camp—it’s not so bad. And I’ll introduce you to my friends, too. You’ll be a couple grades older than us, but that’s okay.”

Luz bounced up. “Speaking of school, Hunter, is there any chance I can borrow Red? I know we’re worried about using the portal, but Eda and Amity and King and Gus and Willow will all be so worried about me!”

“Use your little…” Hunter clicked his fingers in the air. “Your little yellow thing.”

“My—you think that will work between dimensions?”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot. Might as well try before we open the portal and risk Belos getting in.” Hunter tapped his fingers against the chair. “If there’s natural titan’s blood veins in the Boiling Isles, then there’s a place here where it connects, right?”

“Right. That’s how Phillip—he wrote the diary I was using to figure out my portal—got into the demon realm in the first place.”

“So we might not need the key portal if we can find a place on this side where the worlds intersect.” Hunter’s stomach roiled. “Except that if we can do that, that means Belos has another way to get blood.”

“If I can just get in contact with Eda, she might be able to figure out my portal and then we don’t have to—”

The door to the other room burst open. Camila grinned, her hands behind her back. “Okay, Vee, Hunter, close your eyes, and hold out your hands!”

Vee did what she said, and Hunter followed suit, a little more hesitantly. Something paper settled in his hand. “Okay, open your eyes now.”

Hunter blinked at the paper in his hand.

Hunter Noceda.

Vee bounced up and down. “We did it!”

“They’re still finalizing everything—social security, birth certificates, all of that will take a bit more time. But you two are legally part of the family and under my care, now!”

Hunter Noceda.

The words felt… odd, in his head. But a good kind of odd.

Luz slung her arms around Vee and Hunter’s necks. “Whoo! Two new siblings! I didn’t use to have… well, any! I mean, I had you, but legally!” She shook Hunter slightly. “See? Nothing to worry about, I told you Mom could handle it!”

“Hunter Noceda.” He had a last name, now. A family name. “Vee Noceda.” It felt more natural to say her name—but then, she’d already seemed to be part of the family.

Luz cackled with glee. “Aha! You know what that means? Now the two of you have to wear ugly sweaters for family Christmas card pictures!”

“Ugly sweaters?” Vee questioned

“Christ-mas?” Hunter echoed.

“Ehehehe. Welcome to the Noceda family. You two have a lot of family tradition to catch up on.”

[cactusnymph]

matters of the heart

“Sir Caroline, I must ask your advice in an important matter.”

 “You don’t have to call me ‘Sir’ anymore, Angelo. We’ve been over this.”

 “Excuse me, Caroline. Now, this important matter—“

 “Is this about Ale? Because, and I cannot stress this enough, I do not want to hear anything about your love life, Angelo.”

 Angelo has to admit that this is not the way he had hoped the conversation to go. He feels himself deflate a little as he looks at Caroline’s disapproving face.

 “But S—Caroline, I wouldn’t know who else to ask! Usually my best friend and former rival would be my first choice, but he’s not available at the moment.”

 Caroline looks at him for a moment then sighs, lowering her head into her hands for a heartbeat before looking up at him again.

 “Fine. Just this once. Next time you can just write Damien a letter.”

 “Yes, Sir—I mean. Yes, Caroline.”

 Caroline starts massaging her temple.

 “So. Spit it out. What is it?”

 “I almost can’t believe that I am saying this—truly, I think it is the first time I understand my friend Damien. I must speak my heart—“

 “Oh, for the love of—“

 “You are married to Miss Quanyii, are you not, Caroline?”

 “Yes, I am. What does that have to do with anything?”

 “So you must be well-versed in matters of the heart! How did you court your wife? I admit, I have never attempted this before and I have no idea how to go about courting a man—“

 “And why should it be different than courting a woman, Angelo?”

 Angelo pauses for a second. It was brought to his attention many times now that the distinctions between men and women he has learned about all his life might not actually be as accurate as many people make them out to be. Truly, Caroline is the best example. And now he has met Ale and Miss Quanyii, who is sometimes not Miss Quanyii but Mr Quanyii.

 Angelo considers Caroline’s words.

 “So you’re saying I should court Ale in the exact same way I would court a woman”, he says.

 Caroline rolls her eyes.

 “I do not see how gender has anything to do with this, Angelo. The way you court a person depends on the person. Not all women care for flowers and candles and love letters. I have no idea what Ale would prefer as courting; maybe he doesn’t want to be courted at all.”

 “Like Sir Talfryn, yes. I have learned about this. You are correct, Caroline and I am glad to have asked you. I shall speak to Ale about this to make sure that I am not overstepping any boundaries! I thank you for your wisdom! Hophophophophophop.”

 *

 Angelo is not afraid of anything.

 He’s not afraid of pain or fighting or dying or even things as complicated as numbers even though he is not very good at them. But when he finds Ale sitting next to Olala, showing her how to start a campfire with her little hands, something tightens in Angelo’s chest and all he can do is stare.

 Ale is beautiful. Dark skin, long hair, big eyes and long lashes, a soft smile as he tells little Olala that she’s doing well.

 Angelo feels his stomach drop; a sensation that is very similar to falling and his heart beats so rapidly in his chest that he has trouble breathing for a moment.

 Maybe he should have rehearsed this. Maybe it would be better if little Olala was not there with Ale. Maybe he was hasty when he concluded that speaking directly to Ale would be the best course of action. A warrior’s approach. Head on. The same way he always approaches difficulties.

 Ale looks up when he notices Angelo and he flashes him a grin that makes Angelo’s insides squirm around like very lively snakes. Saints, if he starts using more metaphors for how Ale makes him feel he might turn into Damien before he knows it.

 “Hey schoolboy, what can we do for you?”

 Angelo isn’t sure why it makes him feel warm and tingly when Ale calls him ‘schoolboy’, but it absolutely does.

 He clears his throat.

 “I was about to—hm. Well.”

 Angelo wishes Damien were here so he could tell him how to find the right words for this. Damien has such a knack for language and beautiful words, while Angelo—well. Angelo has never in his life understood one poem that Damien showed to him.

 “We’re making fire, Sir Angelo! I made a small flame, all without magic! Look!”, Olala proclaims excitedly and waves at the little wisp of smoke her efforts have conjured.

 “Very good, Olala. I—uh. I must take my leave.”

 And for the first time in his life, Sir Angelo The Strong turns around and flees.

 *

 “Aw, Angelo, what is it?”

 Angelo looks up as Quanyii appears out of nowhere right beside him.

 “I am afraid that I have become a coward, Miss Quanyii”, he says as he looks down at his big hands.

 “I highly doubt that, sweetie. Is this about our beautiful vigilante boy?”, Quanyii wants to know as she scoots closer to Angelo, her colorful hair surrounding her head like a cloud.

 “Yes. I have spoken to Si—to Caroline about this and she gave me important insight on the matter of courting rituals.”

“She did?”, Quanyii asks, sounding surprised.

 “Yes. She explained that courting is not a matter of gender but of the individual’s personality. She also pointed out that Ale might have no interest in romantic relationships which I had not considered before.”

 Quanyii puts her index finger to her lips and taps them thoughtfully.

 “Yes, yes, such wisdom. But have you considered asking me about this? Romance is a magical thing after all and sweetheart, I’m a witch! Caroline doesn’t know one itsy-bitsy thing about romance, let me tell you that”, Quanyii says and pouts a little.

 Angelo raises his head.

 “So you would help me in this quest to court Ale?”, he asks. The grin that spreads on Quanyii’s face makes Angelo pause. This might not be a good idea.

 “Oh, sweetie, don’t you worry your silly little head. I will give you one tip for free because we have become such good friends during those past few weeks! I know a little secret and that is that Ale does like romance!”

 Angelo feels his face light up with a smile as relief courses through his entire body. He feels like he could do a hundred push-ups right here and now. Maybe even lift Porthos. Or the whole, fallen tree he’s sitting on.

 “Why thank you, Miss Quanyii, that is most helpful!”

 He grabs both of her hands and shakes them as Quanyii giggles.

“You are so very welcome, Angelo. For every other piece of help I’m going to require a little bit of payment. A witch has to make do, you know.”

 Angelo doesn’t really understand but he nods anyway and gets up from the fallen tree trunk.

 “I do not believe that I will need further assistance, now that the issue of romantic attraction has been resolved! Sir Angelo The Strong is back on his feet! Ha ha! Hophophophophophop.”

 “Good luck, brave knight!”, Quanyii calls after him as Angelo runs back towards the camp.

 *

 Now that Angelo knows that Ale is not generally opposed to romance the path seems clear. That is, at least until Angelo arrives back at the place where Ale and Olala made their little fire before.

 The two of them are still there, but both of them are asleep. Ale is sitting with his back against a tree, his legs spread, and Olala has curled up between his legs, her tail gently snoring. Caroline sits by the fire and sharpens her blade.

 She looks up as Angelo enters the clearing.

 “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Angelo”, she says as Angelo stares at Ale’s sleeping form. His long lashes are feathered out on his cheeks and for a second Angelo imagines to brush his fingers over Ale’s cheek and give him a kiss.

 The thought immediately sends his heart into another gallop that would make Porthos proud and Angelo swallows heavily.

 “I cannot report any ghost sightings at this point, Sir—I mean. Caroline.”

 Angelo notices how Caroline’s eyes narrow as she looks him up and down and since Caroline has stated that she has no interest to know anything about Angelo’s love life he tries very hard to respect her wishes and to not look at Ale as if he’s the most beautiful thing that Angelo has ever seen.

 Which he very definitely is.

 “Oh for fuck’s sake, sit down, you oaf”, Caroline snaps and Angelo, still as an automatic response to her authoritative voice, walks over to the fire and sits down next to her.

 “Did you talk to Quanyii?”, she wants to know.

 “Yes. She cleared up a question I had and I thought it would make things easier, but as it turns out, it did not.”

 “I wouldn’t make any deals with her, witches are fickle and cunning creatures.”

 “Babe, you’re being so mean!”

 “Oh, shut it. You know it’s true.”

 “Yes, but when you say it like that it’s mean, mean, mean!”

 Angelo watches them bicker for a while before his eyes drift back over to Ale and Olala. Ale’s hand is resting on Olala’s back and Angelo looks at it for a while. Ale’s hand is much smaller than his and Angelo wonders what it would feel like to hold it. It must be rough from all the sword-fighting, much like Angelo’s hand.

 Maybe Ale doesn’t have any interest in holding Angelo��s hand. Maybe Ale doesn’t like men.

 “What is it now, Angelo”, Caroline asks with an expression on her face that says she might regret asking.

 “I forgot to consider another important thing regarding this whole courting business”, Angelo says and looks at Caroline. Quanyii seems to have vanished into thin air—something Angelo has seen happening multiple times during those last few weeks.

 “Which is?”

 “You made me aware of the possibility of Ale being averse to romantic relationships, but I forgot to consider whether or not Ale would be opposed to romantic relationships to men. I only ever knew one man who liked another man. Lizard. Does it count as a man if it is a lizard? I certainly don’t know. My point stands, though.”

 Caroline sighs deeply and cards through her short her.

 “It seems highly unlike you to ask all these questions instead of simply acting, Angelo”, she says and looks at him with a stern gaze.

 Angelo sighs.

 “Yes, I know. I am afraid I have found my most lethal opponent yet! Matters of the heart! No monster could ever best me in combat, but my own heart is betraying me.”

 Caroline puts her blade to the side and leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she looks at Angelo with her piercing eyes.

 “Just talk to him. It’s that easy. No one can ever truly know another person’s heart or thoughts unless they speak them out loud.”

 “Unless you’re a witch”, comes a disembodied sing-song from somewhere above them.

 “Unless you’re a witch in which case you should stay out of people’s heads”, Caroline barks up the tree and looks back at Angelo.

 “I cannot believe that I should turn into a coward for something as simple as talking. It seems highly ridiculous.”

 Caroline shrugs.

 “Emotions are hard. And I... understand your hesitance. But you should not let your feelings rule over your rational thoughts.”

 “That is a very Caroline thing to say, Sir Caroline.”

 “Stop calling me ‘Sir’ already!”

 “Certainly, Sir Caroline.”

 “Ugh.”

 *

 “Ale, can I ask you a personal question?”

 “You can ask anything you want, schoolboy. I can decide whether or not I want to answer.”

 “Oh—yes. That is very reasonable. Thank you. Uh—“

 “Sir knight, are you alright? Did you get sunburnt? Sir Caroline says it is important to not stay outside in the sun for too long!”

 “I am not sunburnt, little Olala.”

 “Ask your question, schoolboy. Is this about gender again?”

 “Uh—no. Not—huh. I suppose it is! But not in the way you think!”

 “Well then, shoot.”

 “This is more about the genders of others, I suppose! A potential paramour, one might say! I have a friend who has a fiancée but who is also involved with a man. Lizard. Male lizard? I am not entirely certain about the lizard’s gender and I was told not to assume. Anyway. What I wanted to ask—“

 “You want to know if I like lizards?”

 “No, that’s not—“

 “I was joking, schoolboy. Calm down. You want to know what kind of people I’m attracted to.”

 “Yes.”

 “I don’t much care about gender, but it doesn’t happen often that I’m attracted to people. Either romantically or sexually.”

 “Oh.”

 “I just don’t fall in love easily. And I don’t find many people hot.”

 “Hm.”

 “Any more questions?”

 “Yes, but I am afraid they would be borderline offensive and highly invasive.”

 “Well then. Let’s keep it at that, schoolboy.”

 *

 “Sir knight, are you feeling okay?”

 “Yes, little Olala.”

 “It’s just that you are usually very loud but you have been very quiet for a while. I recently learned about heatstrokes and it sounds awful and I hope you don’t have a heatstroke, Sir knight.”

 “I don’t think I have anything of the kind, Olala.”

 Olala sits down next to Angelo. He’s leaning against Porthos who’s lying down and nibbling on some grass. Ale and Caroline are investigating something and since Angelo is not the best at clues he offered to stay behind to guard their belongings and also Olala.

 “Most adults do not like to tell children why they’re sad. But if you wanted to, I would certainly listen.”

 “That’s very kind of you, Olala. Have you ever liked someone?”

 “Of course! I like so many people!”

 “Ah, yes. Hm. And were you ever scared to tell any of these people that you like them?”

 “No, Sir knight. I grew up in the Garden of Graves and we tended to the dead and my sisters always taught me that it is important to speak your heart while the people you love are alive, for you never know when they might die and then you can’t tell them anymore.”

 “That is... very wise, Olala.”

 “Thank you, Sir knight! My sisters taught me a great many things and I am honored to pass their wisdom on to others.”

 Angelo looks down at Olala’s small form and ruffles her hair.

 “I will take it to heart!”, he promises.

 *

 “Hey, Angelo. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

 They make camp by a river and Caroline takes Olala for a bath. Angelo turns around to look at Ale, who tied his long braids into a top knot. He’s wearing a white tunic that is a little too big for him and allows Angelo a view of Ale’s collarbone.

 Angelo tries very hard not to stare because he refuses to be disrespectful any more than he already was when they first met.

 “Of course, Ale.”

 Ale looks at him. Angelo would never trust himself to read people’s behavior—that has never been his forté. But he could swear that Ale looks almost a bit nervous; something that Angelo hasn’t seen on him so far.

 “So, remember that talk we had? About how I might like lizards or not?”, Ale begins and Angelo winces a little.

 “It was poorly worded and I apologize—“

 “It’s fine, Angelo. That’s not what this is about. But... you remember what I said. About not being attracted to people often?”

 “Yes. I remember.”

 “Why did you want to know that?”

 Angelo takes a deep breath and scratches the back of his head.

 “I—uh. Well”, he starts, then doesn’t know how to continue. He remembers the talks he had with Caroline and Olala and straightens his back. Sir Angelo the Strong will not back down from a challenge. Any challenge!

 “I would like to court you, Ale.”

 Ale blinks. Once, twice, three times.

 He opens his mouth, then closes it again.

 “You—what?”

 “Courting. I would like to court you. Woo you. Win you over. In the romantic sense. But I was not sure if that was something that would make you uncomfortable, so I tried to figure out if you might be opposed against courtship. By men. Or anyone.”

 Ale takes two steps towards him and Angelo has the great need to spread his arms and pull Ale close to him, but he doesn’t. He’s asking for permission and he will not ruin this by overstepping boundaries.

 A slight chuckle pulls him back to reality and he sees Ale’s eyes twinkle, the corners of his lips turned upwards.

 “Are you asking me on a date, schoolboy?”, Ale asks. His playful smile is doing things to Angelo he can’t describe because he is not Damien. But man, he almost feels the need to write a poem about that smile. That is how badly smitten he is with this wonderful, splendid man standing in front of him.

 “I suppose so! Ale, will you allow me to take you on a date?”

 Ale takes another step and raises his hand to softly flip one finger against Angelo’s forehead.

 “I thought you’d never ask.”

[crashdevlin]

Another Second Chance 17- Everything Changes

Another Second Chance Masterlist, Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist

Author’s Note: The final (hopefully) installment of the Happily Ever Eventually RPF series.

Summary: Y/n and Danneel talk which forces Y/n to share a bit of truth with Nova.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word count: 2934

Story Warnings: past cheating, Nova is not nice to Danneel, Nova is a very protective daughter

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

Danneel looks a little shocked. Not like she’s shocked to see me, but maybe that she’s shocked that I didn’t run away and hide. She shakes herself out of it and smiles back at me. “Hey, sweetie. I guess we had to run into each other eventually, didn’t we?”

I nod and look back toward the dressing rooms. “Yeah. Austin’s big, but not that big.” I feel a bit uncomfortable as I gesture at the dresses. “I’m getting Nova some nice stuff for the Out Youth Gala.”

“Oh, yeah.” She nods and fiddles with her purse strap. Seems she’s just as uncomfortable. “Jensen mentioned he was taking her. I told him I’d stay home for this one.”

"You don't have to sit it out. You could still-"

"It'd be pretty tense. Jensen and I haven't been able to be around each other for more than a few minutes at a time in...well, in years.” Well, that’s a confirmation of Jensen’s words that I never thought I’d get. “Besides...a young bi girl, she deserves to rub elbows with those people. I’ve already met most of them.”

“Thanks for...giving it up this year.” I want to rub the back of my neck. I want to hug myself. I want to tug on my hair a bit. I’m tense and I don’t like feeling like this. I don’t, though. I keep my smile and I stay polite. I learned this a long time ago.

“Of course, sweetie.” God, that makes me cringe.

“Can you…” How do I say this without sounding rude? “Not call me that?”

She nods, understanding immediately. “Sorry. Default. I…” She runs her fingers through her hair and lets out a soft scoff. “I’m not really good at this. I should have just walked back out when I saw you.”

“No, no, that’s…” I sigh. “This is awkward. For both of us. Last time we talked, I was so angry and sad and-”

“And now you’ve got Jensen back and everything is coming up for you.”

That hits a little bitter.

“Danneel...I…” I scoff and shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest.  “The fact that I’m with Jensen again has nothing to do with the upward mobility of my existence...and, you know, I’m sorry that you and Jay didn’t work out, but I stepped out after you got caught together. You had five years to get him back and make things work.”

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." She shakes her head. "No, well, I guess a little. I just always thought one day he'd stop pining over you and come home." Guess she's still in love. Jensen just isn't a man who's easy to get over, is he? "Guess that was wishful thinking."

"I tried, Dee. I told him...I told you. I stepped back at every opportunity so that I wouldn't ever be in the way of your love."

"I know. From the very beginning, you tried to stay out of the way but we didn't really want that."

I roll my eyes. "You both wanted to have your cake and eat it but that's not how the world works." Not my world, anyway. "That Happy Family Fantasy? I talked myself into that. I tried to be what would have made you and Jensen happiest, but I couldn't do it. Trying hurt me. That single night that ruined everything…and when I realized that it wouldn't ever work with me and him and you, I stepped away, just like I stepped away when I realized my involvement with him was harming your marriage. I did everything I could to make sure you didn't lose him and-"

"What do you think of this one, Mum?" Nova's voice stops me and I turn toward the dressing room. She looks gorgeous...and angry. "What's she doing here?"

"It's a free country, Nova. She can shop where she likes." I clear my throat, try to get the bitterness out of my voice. "Genevieve is the one who introduced me to this shop. I assume that she-"

"I expected Gen to have better taste in friends."

"Not the time for the attitude," I snap at her.

"I don't have an attitude." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Yes, you do and you need to stop."

"I just don't understand why you're standing there, talking to the woman who ruined your relationship with Jensen last time. You can't just-"

"It's more complicated than all that, sweetie." Don't talk, Danneel. She's already about to go into fight mode.

"It's not," Nova practically growls. "It's not complicated. He was dating my mother and you were caught shoving your tongue down his throat. That's crappy but it's not complicated!"

"Nova. Stop!" Mom Voice better work. I don’t want anything to show up on TMZ about a fight between my daughter and Danneel in the middle of a damn dress shop.

"No!" She did not just stomp her foot and-  "What, you think that just because you let Jensen fuck around with her while you were married to him that she has to be okay with him fucking around with you?"

My eyes go wide as she leans forward, trying to intimidate Dee. My heart starts pounding and I step between them, look up into my daughter's eyes. "Go get your clothes back on. Right fucking now."

"But, Mum!"

"I don't know who you think you are right now, little girl, but I am your mother and you're going to listen. Go. Get. Changed."

She stomps as she heads back to the dressing room. My heart is still going a mile a minute as I turn back to Danneel. "I'm...sorry about her. She...thinks she knows things and she...does know some things and she's protective and…" I scratch at my brow. "She doesn't want to see me break again."

"None of us do, swee-...Y/n. She's not wrong to be upset at me. Jensen's still upset at me about it."

I shake my head. "No, he's not. Did he never explain to you…" He really doesn't talk to her anymore. "It's not that he's mad at you, Danneel. He couldn’t come back because he had to change. He had to stop being the man that would ruin his life over selfish desires. You were...you were a constant reminder of what that old man had done. He couldn’t come back...not on his own, anyway." I don't know why that last thought escapes but it does.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"Did you try to get him back?" I don't know why I'm asking this. Why do I care? "You asked me five years ago if Jensen wasn't worth fighting for. Did you fight for him? Or did you just sit at home, hoping he'd crawl back to you eventually? Did you fight?"

Because if she fought, if she tried, and he didn’t come back, that means he's really done with her. He really became a different man and he doesn't need or want her. He became a different man who just wants me.

"Are we leaving?" Nova asks as she hooks the hangers on the closest rack and approaches with her arms still crossed over her chest.

"Yeah. Grab the blue dress you tried on, take it to the register." She rolls her eyes and grabs the dress, walking toward the till.

"It was nice talking to you, Danneel." I start walking away to go pay for No's dress, but Danneel's voice stops me.

"I did fight. I tried. He wouldn't hear it." I look at her over my shoulder. "He was too caught up in the liquor and the loss." She tucks her hair behind her ear and gives a sad smile. "I fought for him. I lost him anyway."

I hate to acknowledge the elation I'm feeling, but it's there. He’s really mine. He's really mine and I won’t have to worry about her stealing his heart.

"I'm sorry, Danneel." It's all I can think to say. I know that losing Jensen couldn't have been easy. I walked away and it wasn't easy to lose him.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I never should have-"

"Things were complicated. They're less complicated now."

She nods. "For you."

Shit, I can't feel guilty about this. "Yes. Things are less complicated for me. I hope things get better for you." I head for the register and I pay for Nova's dress. Danneel is gone from the shop by the time we turn around to leave.

"Mum, I'm sorry, I-" Nova starts as we walk toward the car.

"Shut up."

She scoffs angrily. "That’s so rude!"

"Get in the car," I demand, tossing her dress in the back.

"Mum! I said I was-"

"And I said 'Shut up'." I drop into the driver's seat and wait for her to get in and shut her door. "First off, how fucking dare you say any words out of my mouth are rude with the way you spoke to Danneel in there? How dare you try to lecture your mother on how to speak to you when you obviously don't know how to speak to a woman who you probably don’t remember meeting and who did absolutely nothing to harm you.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I keep talking. “I am fucking mortified that you would talk to her like that. You don’t know her. You met her once when we brought your little brother home from Vegas and you have no right to talk to her like that. She might not deserve your fucking respect, but I am not raising a disrespectful little brat. You can have your opinions and you can even voice them but you have no right to make her feel like shit about something that she’s been hammered about and called a homewrecker about for five fucking years. You wanna be a feminist, you wanna lift women up? You don’t fucking attack them for a mistake she made in the past. She fucked up and hurt me but you don’t even know the extent of it, because you are my daughter. You are not my manager, my bodyguard, or my fucking knight in armor, Nova. You are my daughter and I love you for trying to protect me, but I had that interaction handled and I didn’t need you flying off the handle at her. You weren’t even that bad with Jensen and he did worse than she did!”

She’s got tears in her eyes...and I feel bad for hurting her feelings, but...I’m right. She went too far.

“And while this is not something I ever thought I’d be talking to you about, you seem to think you know something about something so I’ll tell you that it doesn’t matter that Danneel and Jensen had an open marriage because that wasn’t what muddled everything up at the end and made them so bold as to be fucking around with each other while I was in Vancouver.”

“What? You--did something...happen before that?”

Again, not a conversation I thought I would be having with her...definitely not a conversation I’m going to have with her when she’s in trouble. “Doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is that you’re fuckin’ grounded until the Gala. No electronics.”

“What?!” she exclaims indignantly.

“Yeah and if you don’t take your punishment gracefully, I’ll extend it past the Gala, too. You’ll get one night and then you’ll be grounded again. You want that?”

“No,” she grumbles. Me either, No. I hate being the bad guy...but I’ve always been better at it than Nate.

"When we get home, I want you to gather up your laptop, game consoles, and the cable box for your TV and put them in the garage. You can read a few books for entertainment."

"Okay." She sounds so dejected but...it’s what I have to do to get the point across.

"Good."

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

“I’ll talk to Dee,” Jensen volunteers. “I’m sure she’s not-”

I shake my head. “I just can’t believe Nova went so vicious...and I think I’m going to have to tell her what happened back then.”

“You don’t have to. She doesn’t have to know.”

“She doesn’t have to know. But...she knows enough to be judgmental and-” What if she judges me afterward? What if she judges me for pressuring myself? What if she decides that I was in the wrong? What if she thinks it wasn’t cheating because we had a three-way, even though they both knew I didn’t want them together without me? “It’s better if I’m honest with her. If she decides to hold the threesome against me, then that’s...well, that’s her prerogative, but I think it’s better for everyone if she knows the truth.”

“You want me there?” he offers and I bite my bottom lip. I’d love to have the support, but…

“No. I think it’d be a better conversation for just me and her. She’s still kinda defensive around you.”

“Okay. Let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Tell Dee I’m sorry.”

“I will. I love you, Baby Girl.”

“Love you, too, Jay.”

I hang up the phone and head for the kitchen. I make a cup of coffee and sit at the table to drink it. I start running through ways this conversation can go, pieces of dialogue in a story. The conversations never really go like they do in my head. But I rehearse them anyway.

I finish my coffee and head up the stairs to her room. I knock. She groans and calls me to come in. I walk in and sit on the edge of her bed. She’s slouching in the bean bag chair in the corner, a book in her grasp. “When I got together with Jensen the first time, he was still married. I know you know that.” I look up at her ceiling. “Danneel agreed to an open marriage...but Jensen fucked it up. He fell in love with me. So, I left. I started dating Tom.” She makes a disgusted sound, but I keep talking. “You know this. Whatever post or article you read, you know this, but you don’t know that I started hanging with Danneel after Tom tried to rape me. We got drunk and I kissed her.”

Nova’s eyes go wide. “I was shocked when I did it, too...and I immediately told Jay. I felt so guilty and confused and...as soon as I told him, he decided that I needed to sleep with her.” I lick my lips. “He was a bit selfish back then. Pretty much very selfish back then...and he wanted both of us again. He admitted to it...that he pushed for me and her to sleep together. I couldn’t...but he really wanted it, us together...so Danneel and I came up with an idea...all three of us together.”

“You slept with both of them?” she asked, her voice a bit squeaky and very judgemental.

“Just once. I woke up the morning after and I couldn’t...I couldn’t deal. I felt dirty. I’d pressured myself into doing something just for Jay and Dee and it was bad. It was bad for me. Dr. McCauliffe told me that I should tell them how it made me feel, but I couldn’t. Disappointing them was something I couldn't do. I probably would have convinced myself to do it again eventually...and it would have broken me even further. I would have let it happen because I didn’t care about my mental health. I cared about them."

I'm afraid to look at her. Is she judging me? Is she disgusted?

"They both knew I didn’t want them touching each other. Not without me. But they both knew that I was unlikely to let it happen again...that I was having trouble with the first time and it was going to be an issue to do it again. That's why they...did what they did. They didn't think they'd get caught. They didn't think it would destroy me if they did."

"That’s worse!" she exclaims and I look over at her. She looks livid. "They knew you were falling apart!"

I rub at the back of my neck and nod. "Yeah, but they really wanted-"

"What you wanted didn’t matter? What you deserved? I can't believe them!"

"There’s a reason I had to end it all, why I had to get five years of distance. There's a reason why Jensen had to become a whole new man." I lick my lips and sigh. "They both betrayed me, Nova. They hurt me and it's taken five years to get us all okay and that's why I can't abide the way you talked to Danneel, because she lost everything too. She was selfish and horrible and she lost everything over it. She doesn't need a teenage girl giving her all this attitude over it."

She looks away and scratches at the back of her hand. "She deserved it."

"You don't get to make that determination." I lean forward and take her hand in mine. "I know that my mental break and breakup hurt you, No, but I'm the one they betrayed. I'm the one they broke...and I've decided to forgive."

"But-"

"But nothing. They've changed. I've changed. Things are better. Do you understand?"

She looks down and sighs. "I understand."

I pat her hand and stand. "You're still in trouble. But I love you, Nova."

"I love you, too."

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

[sly-merlin]

T h e      E n c h a n t e d      C a n v a s

Pairing :: doyoung x reader ft simmi and her moots

Word count :: ~4k

Genre :: Hogwarts soulmate strangers to ?? Fluff

Synopsis ::

Y/n , a muggle is called to Hogwarts not because of her exceptional talents but due to the fact that her soulmate is a pure/half blood studying in Hogwarts. Her destiny takes her from an average household to the enchanting world of spells and charms. Would she found the one she sought? or sh’d end up losing herself in the new world!

A/n :: this is a Christmas gift for lovely nini - @dvrlingrenjun​ under @neoculturechristmas​ event. Thank you admins for letting me talk to her. And nini!! I'd be happy if you enjoy this even a little bit. I hope you can get some time out from your responsibilities to relax and then we can cry over twice's beauty!! MERRY CHRISTMAS NINI.

With love ,

From simmi(stocking anon)

tagging :: lovely @danishmiilk​  ( warning :: donot expect too much) @astroboy-lele​ (oops! i opened discord and just remembered i was supposed to tag you furou! sowy)

networks :: @neowritingsnet​ @kafenetwork​ @nct-writers​ 

thank you aria @adamfoolcry​ for hyping me up!!!

"A MAGIC SCHOOL?DO I LOOK LIKE A FOOL TO YOU?" you screamed at your parents, their pleading eyes instantly making you guilty.

"Darling! That woman showed us what she's capable of. You can go and learn and it's not like you have much of an option." Your father said, caressing your arm.

They were right. The woman, who called herself the professor of Hogsy or something school, had explained to you the two tier unscripted path of your future. The first thing being that you were invited to study at an elite magic school, the evidence of which was provided by summoning your sketchbooks from your room. Second being, your soulmate was a boy of the magical community so you,inevitably, were a part of it and there was no escape from it. 

"I don't want to leave you alone!" Tears threatening to fall, you requested your parents. 

"Please sweetie. Don't make this harder than it already is. We do not have enough money to provide you with quality education. At least you are getting a chance to improve your life. Do not let this chance pass because of us. Besides it's like a boarding school. That lady did say you'd be visiting us twice a year and that too for two whole months! I see no harm sweetie. You possibly cannot refuse your soulmate right. They need you as much as you need them. So go and live your life. Make your parents proud!" 

Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry,

Year - third

"Then the battery is placed in this small compact space in a very specific way to make the clock work. This small cylindrical unit called battery has very complicated working so we'll discuss that next week. And this week,I won't be bothering you with any homework so go and enjoy. Have an enchanting day." Your professor dismissed the class with a brightening smile.

"Y/n" she called as you were packing your bag.

"Yes mam?" You asked her, hands respectfully crossed in front of your skirt.

"I just wanted to say thank you so much for the automated battery clock that you got. The ones we have are very old and it's a long and tiring process to ask for new ones. Do know how delighted i am to have you in my class. I'm glad you chose muggle studies as elective." She smiled at you and you bowed just a bit to show your gratitude and walked outside for your other classes.

Being a ravenclaw was all about wisdom, intellect, being sharp minded and laced with logic and creativity or this was what the book that prof McGonagall gave you read. The almighty sorting hat, the pillar on which walls of Hogwarts stood, had placed you in ravenclaw. Though the hat did contemplate between every single house, you ended up with ravenclaw. You believed neither in the semi-animate object nor the popular saying that Sorting hat knows you better than you do yourself for you failed to find your own kind. The smart ravenclaws were too bright for you. It didn't help that you were the only muggle in your year. You weren't able to keep up with them and if it haven't been for willy, your only friend in ravenclaw, you'd have ended up going home,without finding your destiny. Not that you were any better at the moment but life was fun with willy and aria, your hufflepuff friend. 

But nothing remains stationary right!

“How are you here already?” you questioned lazily.

“Arithmancy professor fell sick this morning. I've been free since then.” said Aria. You turned to William, who was busy toying with his alligator bracelet. “And you willy?” 

“Huh?” he mindlessly asked. 

“I asked, did you run away from divination again?” you repeated the question, changing the words to suit his ears. 

“Oh no! We just had a small accident in class today.” he giggled, his glasses falling off as he doubled over with laughter.

The potion classroom was soon jammed with third year fellows, all chatting in their own friend groups, enjoying the few minutes before they would be bombarded with over expectation of brewing a girding potion.  At the precise moment, the door was closed shut.

“STOP THE USELESS GOSSIP AND SPLIT INTO YOUR BREWING GROUPS. NOW!”

Prof. Snape thundered as all the students, without a second wasted, dispersed and settled. “Mr. brown.” he called a hufflepuff, “collect the ingredients and mr. kim, care to move yourself and help him.” he instructed two students who complied immediately. “Not that i expect any from you little incompetent students, you shall not prepare more than two vials of the potion or else i won’t hesitate to make you do your laundry in the same foul liquid. Understood!” his warning earned silent gagging from several students at the mention of the awful smell, of which you were not excluded. 

As you got busy in discussing the recipe, noise of shattering glass and a shrill cry pierced through your ears. Before you could raise your head to witness the happening, your left wrist burned as if it was set on fire. Knees buckling, you fell on the floor as sudden inflammation blocked your senses, heart wrenching screams leaving your throat.Your wailing alerted your friends as William instantly unbuttoned your sleeve to view the reason of your pain and gasped at the damage. 

“Prof. snape! Her soulmate mark is burning.” he shouted but your ears were too clogged due to choked sobs to feel the distress in his voice. You slowly opened your heavy eyelids as your wrist was pulled swiftly. With blurred vision, you saw prof. casting a spell,his wand releasing a blue light circling your mark which entered your wrist, momentarily soothing the pain. Your cries softened into tiny sniffles as the spell did it's work. You lifted yourself up with Willy's help while sloppily rubbing at the darkened spot. 

“Oh yes, it’d leave some itching and for the spot and further treatment, you need to immediately go to the hospital wing. Ms. y/l/n and mr. Kim, you both are excused and for your foolishness, 100 points from slytherin.” Upon his command, your head snapped towards the man standing across the room in dishevelled state,probably matching your own,his hand clutching his wrist, eyes holding your gaze.

“Out!” 

Nodding your head, you made your way out, the male following after you. 

Either you were too slow in your steps or he was too brisk, but he seemed to be way ahead of you. Gripping your tingling and heavy hand, you were tracing his path when a pair of shoes met your vision, halting you in the middle of the corridor. 

“It’s stinging y/n. We have to run!” and before you could reply, he was sprinting for the stairs, taking you with him.

“You both are in the same year?” the nurse asked, examining the burnt swans on your wrists. 

“Yes” you both replied in unison, eyes meeting for a second before you  averted your gazes. The head nurse noted something in her register before she went to extract some bandages and potions.

“is the skin still burning?" The nurse queried, taking doyoung's hand but he pulled his hand and pointed for you. 

"She's more hurt. Check her first please" he mumbled, noticing your incessant scratching and ragged breathing. She shook her head and proceeded with the treatment.

"Why were you playing with the potions?" She scolded Doyoung while applying the healing potion. 

"I wasn't!" Doyoung retorted as he straightened his back in defence. "It got spilled by mistake when I was finding seaho-RSES!" He screeched as the medicine stung.

"Seahorses are kept in see-through containers mr. Kim and don't you nincompoops know that golden marks are sensitive to heat. Why were you wearing a folded shirt in a potions class when clearly you were exposed t-

"The temperature madam!" Your eyes never left his face as you witnessed the misery he went through in the past few minutes and which you were going to experience in a few seconds. 

"Give me your hand miss y/n" 

The liquid ignited it again but as she massaged on it, the skin felt cooler than before and when she wrapped the white bandage, the sharp needles alleviated into cold jingling. You carefully glanced at doyoung through your peripheral vision only to find him staring at you with wide eyes. Saving yourself the humiliation, you tried to hide your face into your neck which only annoyed you further due to the wetness of your fresh tears mixing with sweaty moisture, creating what felt like a puddle but you endured it, calculating the weight of the outcomes.

"Do stop by every day for a change of bandage unless you want to live your whole life with black wrists which I clearly don't have any problem with kids!" She jested before leaving for her office. 

You stayed seated beside doyoung, the newfound soulmate, wondering if he was as nervous as you were. Fisting your clammy hands, you mustered all the courage you could, ready to introduce yourself but the greeting travelled back through your throat when he hopped off the hospital bed and departed without uttering anything. 

Your recently dried eyes were sprayed again with his callous action as millions thoughts ran through your throbbing head, heart constricting under the weight of silence. 

Did the man for whom you deserted the whole world for, rejected you?

"HE DID WHAT?" Aria hollered and looming forward, slamming her hands down on the table. At her reactions, you felt your own anger bubbling again but the disorder generated by the recent incident and William's reasoning, you stopped yourself from forming any conclusion.

"Will you calm down." 

"No willy, don't you want to rip that sly boy apart. How dare he! I’m going to- wait you told him before me! That's not fare." She whined, diverting her own attention.

“stop shouting aria. Let people eat in silence. An-and we don't know why he left. It could be--maybe he wanted to use the washroom or he wanted to hide his pai-

"Stop defending him willy or I'll pour this porridge over your head" willy pouted at her remark and slided down his chair to avoid her.

"Stop bickering and tell me what should i be doing now! I have a soulmate for god's sake!"

You had finally found the reason for your presence in the castle, your soulmate, kim doyoung and you didn’t know how to proceed.

"I guess wait y/n and at least you were saved from the awful odour of the gird today. Sicheng almost fainted in front of professor but that was a hilarious sight girl. You missed it" you saw rolling her eyes at the mention and you mirrored her reaction,resting your head on the table as Willy's ironic statement only intensified the pounding.

Wait! But for how long?

"YOUR FROG BRAIN DID WHAT?" Simmi jumped off the bed to face doyoung, her hand reaching for the transfiguration book.

"I-i- i got nervous!" He whined and cringed at his pathetic excuse. He was busy folding and unfolding his poor ear,apparently in nervousness, when his best friend thwacked his bicep with the heavy book.

He cried out loud, grasping his arm with one hand, “do you want to die!” he glowered at her. 

“How could you miss your soulmate when she was right there in front of you for two years." She said before working on his arm again. 

“I’m not the only one! She also missed me.” he reasoned, holding his hands up in refuge from her neverending attacks. “Wait!” he exclaimed, pondering over his words. “How could she not know I was her soulmate when almost everyone knows I've got a gold swan embroidered.” his face fell in despondency and the horrible and hurried conclusion his thoughts took him to. “Simmi what if she- what if she never wanted to find me and that-

“Merlin’s beard shut yourself up and mail your family. They need to know their baby boy is all grown up now!”

He nodded in acknowledgement of the suggestion but his wandering mind refused to rest until he was sure of his qualms. 

Maybe he should wait! But for how long?

My love was sleeping, but there was fragrance in the air

Doyoung roamed around in circles, his heart unevenly drumming, body so warm under the strain of muddled thoughts that the moisture was seeping through the bandage. The response of his parents, lying on his bed in the form of a letter, had relieved him of the worries of any prospective opposition. Not that he didn’t know his family, he wasn't too convinced how their family would address the sudden revelation of his soulmate being a muggle. You were going to be the first muggle in his family and the first ravenclaw after his great grandmother. The first line of the letter “we are elated to know that your soulmate is a human and not your piano” had eased him for the remaining part. Now that the dragon was out of the dungeon, the subsequent troubles were giving him splitting migrains. 

In the past week, he had tried to approach you after a painful shove from taeyong and simmi but he had to retreat due to your very malevolent comrades. The mental conversations he had with you continued to be in the confines of his head but nothing arrested him from searching for you in the crowds. You had always been there, in the same classes, in the great hall, in the corridors but you were nowhere when his eyes sought you. Just a week has passed and he found himself getting more and more conscious of your presence. He wanted to hijack and become a part of your convivial life yet he lacked the needed courage. 

So he resorted to wearying his legs by moving around. Maybe Some blood rush from his branches to brain would give him some clarity.

By degrees, the thumping of his spirit corresponded to the swooshing of the sea creatures.

He might have been too young to fall in true love but slowly, he knew, he was falling for that little golden swan.

Hidden from the rest, you were completing your assignment when the chair besides you was drawn out. You raised your head with the intention of getting the chair vacated for your friends but watching the Kim doyoung occupying the seat, you shot up instantly,ready for your escape. Fumbling with the ink and books, you whirled around only to be stopped by the boy.

 You glanced at him for a moment before pulling your hand ,which he was tugging at , back. 

"Stay. Your friends won't be coming today. I won't say anything. Please" he requested with his doe eyes looking up in a hope to catch yours. 

Wordlessly, you sat down.

He kept his promise. 

No word was spoken that day or the next day or the next week. 

The intense silence that engulfed you that day soon morphed into a tranquil one. The one of the familiarity, of the silent exchanges and of the growing unbreathed bond.

By the end of the month, the green leaves sacrificed themselves for the birth of fiery red ones as the days became shorter, the sun became mischievous and the gold on your wrists started gleaming more than ever.

One month later 

“Gamps’ law of transformation? Didn’t we read it last year?” doyoung asked perplexedly, taking the reins of the conversation, again.

“Prof. told me to prepare an assignment which would be used for the younger students.” you replied sheepishly, dipping the quill in the ink. 

“Pure ravenclaw” he muttered, looking lovingly at you. These days, he did it more often than he could count. He wanted to say more but the fear of your refusal always held him back.

“Not so much” 

you heard his muttering! He wanted to pry further but saved it for a later discussion. 

He shifted himself towards his own chair and worked on his sheet as the ticking of the grandfather clocks muddled with scratching of the quills filled the empty corner. 

It wasn't home but it certainly felt like one!

Two months later

“Give us our y/n back” aria whisper yelled to taeyong.

“She’s doyoung’s soulmate, doyoung is my best friend hence she is my best friend as well.” taeyong retorted, dramatically flaring his nostrils. 

“Don’t forget we live at the same place taeyong and simmi won’t be there to save you baboon face.” amused smiles adorned everyone’s faces as they saw both of them quarelling. Some things were always constant. 

You sipped on your hot chocolate that warmed you up as you and doyoung went through the revision for the last exam. Without being asked, he helped you with his encyclopedic knowledge. you were grateful for his assistance but never said anything for you felt like the feather silence between you was too delicate to breach. 

So you spoke through your eyes.

And he never failed to hear you.

Wrapping the scarf around your neck, you sprinted for the dining hall, tightly holding onto the white chocolates tightly. 

At the end of the hallway, you saw another figure running over in the same state as you.

“Did you get shorter?” he said, grinning ear to ear. Glancing up at him, you scanned through his features, in case you had forgotten in the christmas holidays. 

“This is for you!” you both said simultaneously, extending your hands

“Open it for me!” you requested.

Under the emerald covering was an elegant and vintage fountain pen, engraved and decorated with turquoise stones. “This is so beautiful.” you told him before taking it from him. You traced over the name kim carved onto the nib of the pen. You raised your brows in question to which he responded quickly , “it’s my great grandma’s. This is your Christmas gift from the Kim family. I know it’s small but you are invi-

“It’s precious. You are giving me a family heirloom when all i got are some homemade milk chocolates for you.” your smile faded as you avoided his sight.

“How did you know white chocolates are my favourite?” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly.

“Mom said you’d l-

Before you could complete your sentence, he prised the chocolate box out of your grip, sprinting for the great hall.

“OH KIM DOYOUNG! GIVE ME MY SHARE!” 

YEAR - FOURTH

“Why are you always so quiet?” 

“I’m never!” you defended yourself. 

Doyoung didn’t know why he was talking about it now and here, out of all places, in front of whomping willow.

“Tell me!” he pressed.

“I talk to a few and it’s enough.”

“Do you know you are intimidating?” you raised your chin to scrutinise the sincerity in his words.

“I am not!” 

“To those you don’t know you, you radiate passive energy. My slytherin friends wanted to introduce themselves but they got scared and ran away. Honestly, i was also a bit-

He trailed off, slouching on the bench as your eyes bored into his. His head hung low in apology for he knew, he must've crossed the line but for the first time, you decided to show him your dauntless side.

“Hogwarts did that to me.” you said, wearily. “I was happy with my parents, drawing and colouring in my art books when suddenly i was told that i’ve been living in a wrong way. That there is a secret magical place where i have a soulmate. I was angry because i had to leave everything behind. And then i was sorted into ravenclaw. And i was distorted when i found out that i wasn't smart enough for them. I couldn't solve the riddles! William was the one who showed me how to do it properly. It felt awful knowing that the only place that was supposed to be my home for next seven years wasn't the place where i belonged to.” you spoke calmly but doyoung felt your distress and let you continue without any interruptions. 

“I was an eleven year old. I never wanted to fend for myself in a place full of strangers. I -i imagined my life to be a canvas full of colours that i wanted to design for myself. The borders, the paint, the drawing, i wanted to design it for me. But then an owl screeched and i felt like someone had shortened my canvas and after all these years, i feel it’s completely disappearing.” it sounded like someone snatched the life out of your voice. But your visage remained soft, drawing doyoung in. 

“So you like art.” he asked with curiosity. 

“Yes. i love art.” you said, eyes fixed at the movements of the branches of whomping willow.

“Can you please teach me?” he urged and within a second , the air filled with the fragrance of your happiness.

“ why wouldn’t I. what do you wanna do in future doyong? Aria wants to arithmancer, william would be a healer and sicheng, he would be a star quidditch player.”

“I don't want to worry about it right now. Let’s just live in today.” he answered back, smile gracing his lips at the thought of a future with you.

You both relished each other’s company until the temperature froze the both of you.

Removing a  snowflake from your lashes, he made a promise to himself that he’d help you find something that’d put ice on all the bitter memories you had. 

YEAR - FIFTH

THE GREAT HALL

 “Doyoung’s got a howler!” yuta and simmi fist bumped each other, already too excited for the letter to be opened. Of all the howlers they have received, doyoung and yuta’s were record establishing and they expected mrs. kim to maintain the status quo this time as well.

The howler jumped in the air and as the seal opened, doyoung’s heart dropped at the voice. It was not from his mother but his sister and it shouted humiliation, if he was being polite towards her. 

“MS. Y/N!” 

You choked on the juice as you heard your name. 

“MY DEAR TO-BE-SISTER-IN-LAW, HELLO! I’M IVET, THAT DENSE DUDE’S LITTLE SISTER. MUM HAS SENT YOU SOME ART SUPPLIES AND SHE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU COULD PAINT HER SOMETHING TO DECORATE THE EMPTY WALL IN HER ROOM. SHE’D BE DELIGHTED AND IF YOU GET TIME,PLEASE DRAW SOMETHING FOR ME TOO. AND DOYIE BRO! BRING ME CHOCOLATE FROGS FROM THE TRAIN! SHOP FROGS DOESN'T TASTE THE SAME. FORGET THIS TIME AND I’D MAKE SURE YOU REGRET YOUR EXISTENCE. I hope we can meet soon ms. y/n. By.”

The howler exploded and so did the whole room. Several snorts, chuckles, happy curses were exchanged as doyoung lowered himself under the table to avoid the shame. 

You checked your paint supplies attached with the howler and as your lips curved up, he knew what he was going to pursue in his life. 

Your happiness and immortality.

When i found you, there was magic 

“Mr. kim if you wish to ogle at ms.y/l/n instead of paying attention to my words then i’d suggest please fail your o.w.l.s so i don’t have to face your affection filled face from next year.” prof snape growled, throwing the head of vial on doyoung’s face. 

He was going to fail potions, you thought gesturing him to apologise.

“And 20 points from slytherin and 10 points from ravenclaw!” you both ducked your heads in an instant, forcing a poker face to save yourself from further trouble.

When i found you, rain smelled good

YEAR - SIXTH

When i found you, desires awakened

“No simmi! This is a slytherin dungeon. I cannot go inside!” you warned simmi, who, all of a sudden was adamant on showing you her room, at midnight. 

“I love you but please don’t call this a dungeon.” she held out her hand before you could correct her. “Yes i know this is practically a dungeon but we call it seascape.  Close your ears, you don’t wanna hear the password. You nodded, palming your ears.

“Yutaisthegreatestbeingintheworld” you snickered as she recited the words.

“Our prefect is a dung brain so please excuse.”

Door opened to darkness but a dim light slowly floated towards you as you walked inside “Nox”  your wand rose high up in the air. You made out doyoung’s figure and before you could calculate, the whole room resonated with a syncless birthday song.

And you knew, you were enthralled by this boy.

You heard my prayers, you answered my heart’s call

“I love you aria. Would you give me the honour of being the snitch of your life?” sicheng, aria’s ravenclaw soulmate confessed to her with a promise ring. 

“The ice prince finally melted!” You and william, hands joined, jumped in joy as you watched aria’s eyes glistened with glee.

You rushed upstairs to find doyoung as you forsaw the end of your wait.

Panting heavily, you dragged doyoung out of prof’s room, his step gracefully flowing with yours in a instant.

“What are yo-

“What do you smell in amortentia?” you stopped abruptly and asked him, gasping for air.

“Wh-a-t” he giggled nervously, his hand patting his chest to control his own breathing. “What has gotten ov-

“Answer me kim doyoung.” you whispered, strictly.

He was quiet but you understood the stillness of his heart veiled by the thumping and you felt him losing his composure when his hands cupped your face, 

"I-i smelled white chocolate, lovely lillies-

"Hurry up Kim." You hit his chest with your fist with requirement of the answer.

He chuckled, his bunny teeth enlightening his chiselled face while he looked at you like you were something special to him and you no more just wanted to feel it. You wanted him to say it, express it like he did when he read the poetry from your book or like the random scribbles on his notebooks. You wanted him to move on from the shy glances and profess that you were his and he was yours. 

he licked his lips as he gulped harshly before continuing,

"And you. You-your hair. Your lavender scent. Your innocence. Your d-dreams. Your colours. Your paints yo-

Pulling him by his tie, you placed your lips on his soft ones, leaving them with a smack. His hands wrapped around your waist to embrace you in the warmest hug you'd ever received from a loved one. As your head laid on his chest, you heard his heartbeat for the first time, making you feel closer to him than ever. 

"How would i ever requite your love Kim doyoung" you asked, closing your eyes.

"Maybe a portrait would do!" 

Kim doyoung became the canvas of your life,giving you the liberty to paint him in your colours and  your love and you became the smudged ink to his enchanted diary, without whom he would've failed to fill the pages.

You'd grow old but the swans born out of you would tell the stories of the years gone by.

[riversofmars]

Could you do a story where Thirteen bumps into the tenth doctor and Donna and thirteen pretends that she's not the doctor but then post-library river comes along and causes mischief please? Also I REALLY love your fics, especially The Oncoming Storm! Yours were the first fanfics I read and they're one of the few I like (I'm picky) so thanks for doing such brilliant stories!

Aww thank you so much, that’s very kind of you to say!! Sorry this took a little while longer, hope the wait was worth it! Turned out a bit longer than expected. Hope it sort of fits the brief lol! Really hope you like it!

Rating: G

Ship: Ten/River, Thirteen/River

Word count: 2400

Read on AO3 or below

River Song Has Been Saved

“Hang on a minute, Doctor.“ Donna walked back over to the TARDIS doors after the Doctor had closed them with a snap of his fingers. She thought she’d seen something, just as the doors had closed.

“What’s wrong?“ The Doctor frowned and followed her, both sticking their heads out.

“Oi, lady!“ Donna called stopping a young woman that had just strolled past the TARDIS and was heading back deeper into the Library. Everyone was supposed to be evacuated by now.

“Sorry?“ The woman looked around, blonde hair framing soft features and big eyes. She looked to them as if she hadn’t expected them to be there.

“You can’t go in there.“ The Doctor gestured to the door that lead further into the Library as they stepped out of the TARDIS again. Only a moment longer and they would have taken off and missed her sneaking in here.

“Ahh… so close. Just a bit too early, wasn’t I, hate it when I do that…“ The blonde said to herself more than anything else.

“Did you just come here? The planet has been sealed off for a hundred years, how did you…“ The Doctor frowned, confused as to how she’d got in.

“Yeah, been meaning to check it out.“ The woman grinned. “The hair is magnificent, isn’t it.“ She eyed the Doctor up who looked back at her utterly bewildered. There was something familiar about her.

“Do I know you?“ He asked.

“No absolutely not, never mind me, I’m sure you got important things to do, so.“ She gave a little wave, intend on heading off.

“You can’t go in there, we’re evacuating the planet.“ Donna backed up the Doctor.

“I know, you have a nice day now.“ The woman grinned.

“Sorry, I can’t let you do that.“ The Doctor was quick to overtake her and step in her way. “This place is gonna get swallowed up by flesh eating darkness soon, you might want to head out not in?“

“I got to check something out of the library, I’ll only be a minute.“ She waved off his warning and tried to push past him. “And like you say, the window of opportunity is closing, so, you should probably leave this place yourselves…“

“And you can’t find your book any other place?“ Donna asked dumbfounded.

“One of a kind, sorry, got to run.“ The blonde replied with a grin pushing past him.

“Alright, have a nice day as well.“ The Doctor let her pass.

“Thanks!“ She grinned and sprinted off.

“Doctor, you're not just gonna let her go, are you?“ Donna asked thoroughly confused watching her leave.

“Not a chance. Just giving her a head start.“ The Doctor winked and they headed after her, careful not to be spotted. They took cover behind some tables in the main area as the blonde headed straight for a computer terminal.

“That was close, stupid box, always with the timing…“  She was mumbling to herself. “Couldn’t have hung on two minutes…“ Without further ado, she started pulling some sort of electrical equipment from the pockets of her impressive coat. There were a lot of parts to it and Donna couldn’t believe it all somehow fit into her pockets. They watched her as she hooked up the equipment to the computer.

“What is she doing?“ Donna whispered to the Doctor who shrugged.

“I’m more concerned with who she is… whatever she is doing, that’s complicated tech…“ He mused, watching in fascination as she continued her work.

“Ouch… alright then.“ The blonde pulled her hands away as she seemed to have gotten an electric shock. She stood and engaged the computer terminal. “CAL, hi, sorry, I know, bit confusing, different face.“ She started talking to the computer and the Doctor and Donna exchanged concerned looks. How did she know about CAL? What she was saying was making very little sense to them without the second half of the conversation. They couldn’t make out what CAL responded. “Just popping in to get what’s mine, alright? Don’t freak out, it’s really me. Can you put her on?“ There was a moment of silence. Neither Donna nor the Doctor said anything but there were only very few people she should be looking to talk to on that computer. This was about to get even more investing than the whole experience had been already. “Hello Sweetie. Surprise! This is gonna be great, you’re gonna love this, had Dorium track it down for me, took a while but here we are.“ The woman sounded thoroughly excited. “Get you coat, honey, let’s see if it works.“ She took a step backwards and pulled something from her coat pocket, pointing it at the computer. Sparks flew and the mechanism engaged.

“Can’t have come cheap, that.“

“Dorium Maldovar is known drive a hard bargain, she must be a hacker or criminal of some kind to have those kinds of ties.“ The Doctor mused, trying to make sense of what they were picking up.

“Perhaps Dorium just owes her a favour…“

“Dorium doesn’t do favours.“ He huffed. It was a ridiculous notion.

“He will.“

“Doctor.“ Donna touched her hand to his arm.

“Shush, Donna, I don’t want to lose the element of surprise.“ He kept his eyes firmly on the woman in the middle of the room who was looking around now, apparently waiting to see if whatever she had tried to do had worked.

“Doctor.“ Donna repeated.

“How much longer until he notices, you think?“

“Doctor?!“ Donna grabbed the Doctor by the shoulder and pulled him around.

“Donna, what?!“ He growled but stopped dead in his tacks when he found River Song standing behind them. He had been having a conversation with her without even realising it. She was dressed in a white flowing dress, a stark contrast to the environmental suit he’d only seen her in, and a grinned spread across her beautiful features.

“Hello, Sweetie.“ She chuckled.

“Oh my God, River, what, how…“ The Doctor couldn’t find words.

“Well, Sweetie, what do you think?“ River grinned at the Doctor.

“Of what?“ He was still in shock. He had watched her die only hours ago, he had managed to somehow, miraculously save her consciousness and now suddenly she was here again? “How did you get out of the computer? What did she do?“

“Some sort of teleport I believe, but like a really clever 3D printer, materialise the body, download the consciousness, boom, brand new wife.“ River explained, enjoying the dumbfound expression on both their faces.

“River!!“ The blonde had finally spotted her and River waved to her.

“Speaking of wife…“ River smirked and the Doctor exclaimed:

“Wife?! I thought you and me, we…“ He looked around to the woman heading straight for them, feeling a wave of jealousy. He knew he’d technically only met River today but he knew how important she would become to him.

“We are.“ River chuckled giving his an amused smirk: “But you know, you can’t talk, all I’m gonna say is: Elizabeth I… so…“ She couldn’t carry on as the blonde rushed around the counter and threw herself at River who pulled her close and twirled her around.

“River.“ The mystery woman took her face in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes, clearly overcome with emotion.

“Hello, Sweetie.“ River smiled the softest of smiles and leaned in to kiss her.

“Sooo… how do you feel about this?“ Donna looked to the Doctor, feeling like they were intruding on a private moment. “You think we should go, or…“ She could tell from the annoyed expression on the Doctor’s face, however, that he had no intention of just leaving it be. He pulled himself up to full height and cleared his throat.

“Okay, so thank you for saving my future…“

“Wife.“ River helpfully supplied the word as they stopped kissing and just held each other close.

“Whatever she is. But who are you?“ He jabbed his finger at the blonde.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?“ The woman let go of River, seemingly reluctantly, and turned to face him. She kept her hand intertwined with River’s.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy River isn’t dead but my future self spent a lot of time thinking about how to save her and then you just waltz in here having to do one better?“ The Doctor crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Well, sadly, you’ll not remember that I came here.“ The woman replied.  

“What?“ Donna was utterly confused now.

“Why not?“ The Doctor demanded to know, unsure whether or not that was supposed to be a threat.

“God, you’re slow. Did I give you a concussion when I knocked you out?“ River raised her eyebrows playfully.

“Maybe it’s cause of the hair spray…“ The blonde mused.

“I don’t use…“ The Doctor was going to protest but River had already changed directions:

“Don’t tell me you’re not using hairspray now.“ She ran her hand through the other woman’s blonde bob.

“Naturally falls like that, thank you very much.“ She huffed in response. “Regeneration is a lottery as you should know by now.“

“Are you a timelord?!“ The Doctor exclaimed, not sure how to interpret the statement.

“Yes.“ The blonde replied in amusement.  

“But I thought I was the last…“ The Doctor stared back at her in shock.

“Yes, which makes me…“

“You can’t be.“ He shook his head.

“Yes I am the…“ The blonde started but the didn’t allow her to finish.

“You can’t be the Master, he…“

“So close.“ The mystery woman sighed hanging her head theatrically.

“It’s like watching one of those dumb and dumber movies, isn’t it.“ River chuckled to Donna who had long given up trying to follow.

“Hang on!“ The Doctor exclaimed as the penny dropped.

“Yes, crossing time streams, you won’t remember this because you are crossing your own time stream right now! I am you.“ The blonde Doctor sighed, she couldn’t believe she had to spell it out for him like that.

“Pretty boy and pretty girl.“ Donna found herself chuckling almost involuntarily.

“Aren’t they?“ River agreed with a smirk. “The mind races.“

“River. Shut up!“ The Doctor chanted in unison.

“But you’re short!“ The younger Doctor groaned in annoyance as he looked her up and down.

“I am actually rather average height, as it happens! Why does everyone call me small?!“ The older Doctor huffed. “Did I really use to be so obsessed with my height?!“

“Size isn’t everything, darling.“ River pipped up.

“Still not ginger then.“ The younger Doctor carried on.

“None of the next four, no.“ She replied with a shrug.  

“Four more regenerations and only now did you work out how to save her?“ He exclaimed looking to River.

“I actually gave her the screwdriver last time we met, thank you very much. One step at a time.“ The older Doctor huffed and turned to her wife: “I booked that suite on Darillium again, by the way, for a few nights, just, you know, if you haven’t got any other plans.“

“Well, this is going to be a whole new experience.“ River smirked looking her up and down. This was the first she was seeing of her spouse’s most recent regeneration and she was beyond intrigued.

“Like it?“ The blonde Doctor asked with a little smirk and River grinned:

“Love it.“

“I don’t like her. Do you like her?“ The younger Doctor turned to Donna, just as his future self pulled their wife in for another kiss.

“Are you jealous of yourself?“ Donna teased and he gave her a playful shove.

“So you’re really him? Just older?“ Donna turned to the future Doctor, still struggling to believe that they were the same person. She knew what regeneration meant but it wasn’t like she’d ever seen the result of one.

“Different face, same dumbass.“ The Doctor retorted with a grin.

“Well done for saving her, Doctor.“ Donna smiled as they looked to River who said her goodbyes to the younger Doctor at present. “She really needed you, this version of you.“ Donna thought back to how devastated River had been at the total lack of recognition on the Doctor’s part. She had missed her Doctor so very much.

“I know. I remember.“ The Doctor gave a sad sort of smile as she thought back to when she had first met River, remembering the pain and sorrow in her eyes. “Donna, I can’t know, you know. You can’t tell me, else I might not get here, details my change and a paradox will be created if I know River lived.“ The Doctor turned to her to explain and Donna nodded slowly, they had mentioned it on the way back to the TARDIS already. This Doctor’s TARDIS was parked right behind their’s where they hadn’t been able to spot it as they got out. “Just be there for him. He’s already struggling, even if he doesn’t show it, even if he doesn’t know her yet, he still knows what and who he’s lost.“ The Doctor tried her best to explain to her what was going on in her younger self’s head.

“How long as it been for you? Since she died. How long have had to carry that with you?“ Donna asked taking her hand comfortingly.

“Some questions are better left unanswered.“ The Doctor shook her head and smiled. “It was good to see you, Donna.“ She pulled her into a hug.

“It was good to meet you, this version of you.“ Donna smiled and let her go, just as River and the other Doctor joined them.

“Well done, Doctor.“ The younger Doctor smiled and extended his hand to her.

“You too, Doctor.“ The blonde smile in return and shook his hand.

“You sure you don’t want to come in for a cup of tea, or…“ River suggested pointing to the TARDIS:

“Down, girl.“ The older Doctor smirked and took her hand in hers.

“You’ll be seeing me again soon, Doctor.“ River smiled at the younger Doctor who grinned:

“I look forward to it.“

“No telling.“ The older Doctor reminded Donna who nodded and smiled:

“My lips are sealed.“

“Now about that suite.“ River smirked at her wife as they turned to their TARDIS.

“Think the TARDIS bedroom will do for now, don’t you?“ The Doctor chuckled as she unlocked the door.

“Bedroom, kitchen, console room, wardrobe hall…“ River smirked and pulled her inside.

“Good for you, Doctor, so you’re not an eternal virgin then.“ Donna teased pulling her Doctor along to their TARDIS before he could get any more jealous.

[i-love-ninjago-kai]

Wait a sec while I ask you this-

So, your Kailor analysis was amazing (I don’t really ship it, but it was still awesome!) - so I was wondering if you could do a second part to it? Like, what the other ninja think about it - I know you’ve already mentioned that they just want them to kiss already, but would you mind going into a bit of depth on that? Like, do they try to set up dates or something (cough cough Lloyd ‘n’ Nya-). Thankyou so much!

- Submitted by @chaoscat211 -

Hi Friend, thank you so much! Sure thing :) 

This is long so I’ll eventually cut it off under a read more.

Yeah so… The ninja know Kai and Skylor have hang-ups, like, a lot. They’re complicated people, and it’s really really hard for the team to get the two to express how they’re really truly feeling.

If Kai is really really bothered by something, he closes up like a clam and even if he opens up for a second, his shell will snap closed again and you’ll end up with a broken finger.

Skylor is just… Hard to read, she’s spent her entire life putting up a front, and when she wants to hide what she’s feeling, she will do it with such practiced ease it’s like breathing for her. The only person who’s ever been able to truly, really see through it is, well… Kai.

But wow, it is so, so obvious how much they love each other, and it drives the team absolutely crazy. The way they say each other’s names like it’s a part of them, the admiration-filled glances when she visits for dinner, the way they flirt and sass each other with nothing more than a smirk and sometimes a chuckle.

And it’s not even that they just “make each other happy,” because that’s not all that a relationship is. They bring out something amazing in each other, and the team can see it. Kai opens up to her  in a way that he never has with them, Skylor shows another side besides the well trained, flirtatious cool persona that’s been beaten into her. 

They work together as if they have for decades. Fighting together is like a dance, it’s almost beautiful to watch them act as partners.

So it is even more frustrating to watch them hang back from truly going all in and just kissing already, just because they both had bad childhoods and don’t know how to deal with their problems. At least, that’s how Jay sees it.

He made a direct approach when he wanted to express his love to Nya, he asked her on a date, easy. Granted his low confidence did make him try to… Be anyone BUT Jay, but still, Nya knew he liked her.  AND GRANTED they ALSO did a dance in order REALLY be together, but that was more because outside forces were keeping them from truly being able to be together.

Skylor and Kai are just scared, which is stupid because Jay knows they’re absolutely smitten. He doesn’t know why Kai makes himself miserable by not making a move. Although he seems to have a habit of making himself miserable on purpose. 

He does what he does best, he teases and annoys Kai with whatever innuendo he can. EVENTUALLY one will work and Kai will get up the freaking nerve to sweep Skylor off her feet. He’s willing to be a martyr and take Kai’s (slightly terrifying) glares and threats if it means it’ll work. (It won’t)

Lloyd is young, and until recently, didn’t really understand the value of a romantic partner, and his experience with it so far has been less than savory. Even still, Lloyd likes Skylor, she’s smart and very good for Kai. Of course.. He hadn’t realized that the loving insults and nicknames they give each other was flirting until like, last week. So now whenever he hears them do it, his face turns red and he has to politely excuse himself. 

At least Nya and Jay, or Pixal and Zane know a thing or two about PDA. Skylor and Kai aren’t even dating and they look like they’re about to pounce on each other all the time.

Nya… Nya doesn’t know how she feels. On one hand she does really like Skylor,  their bond was strengthened during the time when she thought the ninja were dead, and it was good to have another girl who had lost someone she loved too. They had an understanding, and although she’s never said it out loud, Nya knows Skylor is absolutely in love with Kai.

And she knows how much Kai loves her, he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at her. And oh my fsm, he has someone that he actually likes outside of the team and her, he really really needs that. Not only does he like her, he actually talks to her, holy crap, he opens up to her. He’s never done that with anyone.

Not even her. Not fully. I mean sure, she’s his sister, and he tells her mostly everything, but he’s also the one who raised her, and she knows that comes with a lot of secrets. She spied on him stressing over not having enough money for this month’s electric bill, in the middle of the night, only to give her lunch money the next day enough times to know that he doesn’t tell her everything that’s going on in his head.

And in a way, that scares her, because Kai has always been hers. The one constant in her life has always been Kai, and to think that soon enough… She won’t be his favorite girl anymore, soon enough Skylor will be the one who can read him from across a room, comfort him and calm him down. Soon enough it will be Skylor, and not her.

Which is terrifying. Don’t get confused… Nya doesn’t need Kai, not in a survival sense, she’s perfectly capable of functioning if he’s away. But… Kai has always been there, always, in her life of constant fluctuation and many many heartbreaks, Kai has always been there to catch her when she’s falling, always there to pull her out of the water when she’s drowning. 

And she won’t consider the possibility of him dying, nope, that’s too far, but the possibility that she’s not the center of his world anymore, and in a more childish sense, that he’s not going to be there to protect her every waking moment. It’s scary, and it sparks some jealousy in her.

Which makes her feel terrible. She doesn’t like the icky feeling that claws for attention when Kai comforts Skylor after a hard day at the restaurant, or when his first thought after a mission is to call her, instead of making dinner with Nya.

Because Kai isn’t hers, Kai never was hers. Her relationship is different. Kai may be Skylor’s, but Kai was never Nya’s. She rationalizes it and says that she feels this way because she wants to protect him. Nya knows that she’d never hurt Kai, but she can’t speak for Skylor, and she doesn’t want anyone to hurt Kai. He’s had enough pain, enough hardship for an entire lifetime, wrapped up into 19 years.

It’s just not what’s supposed to happen. He’s fought to hard to be hurt now.

So she’s torn. Because she absolutely wants them to be together, she wants them to make out and have all their cheesy romcom moments. But she’s scared she’s losing her brother, too, and she’s always had her brother to hold onto her.

Cole has tried many, many times to talk to Kai about Skylor. Cole is the oldest, and while Kai is the closest to him in age, they’re not in the same place. At least not in that area. Cole can see what good this would do for Kai. The way Kai is beaming and joyful in a way that he never is when he comes home from visiting Skylor proves that.

And Kai is usually nice to talk to, he’s mature where he needs to be and a good listener. Unless you try and get him to talk about his problems. Cole has never seen anyone’s expression darken and close up so quickly, and he’s seen people corrupted with evil before his very eyes.

It usually ends with Kai just making the excuse that he’s tired, since their long chats are almost always late at night. Otherwise he just shakes his head and leaves.

It would be rude if it came from anyone other than Kai. When it comes from Kai, it just makes Cole sad for him. Cole hasn’t had it easy, not at all. He’s died twice and he is not excited to make it three, but Cole at least knows when he needs to talk to someone. His mother taught him that, if he’s ever struggling, bottling is the worst thing he can do. And in his experience, she was right, so he tries to be honest about where he is with his friends, and it’s freeing.

But  this team is full of bottlers, and Kai is the worst of them. 

Zane… Zane isn’t really worried about it. He’s an android, and he’s got longevity, so he doesn’t really see the point in everyone being so frustrated with the unofficial couple. Things will work out.. In time. Kai and Skylor are not even whole themselves yet, how can they come together as an effective new body if they don’t even know themselves?

Zane had to relearn how to be independent, having becoming dependent on Pixal for support. Which, isn’t a complete problem, there’s nothing wrong with depending on people, that’s what a team is, but when you start taking more than you are giving, then  it becomes a problem.

So the two need to grow themselves a little more… And fsm knows Kai is afraid to grow.

This is uber duber long, so I’ll cut it here. Sorry for rambling!!! I hope this is close to what you wanted :) Thank you again sweetie!

[seasonsofeverlark]

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie?

Author: @juxtaposie​

Prompt: Everlark as kids on Halloween [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone​]

Rating: T for described violence in a movie, but nothing worse than the books

Summary: Katniss doesn’t want to dress up; she doesn’t want to go to the party; she doesn’t want to watch a scary movie.

And she definitely doesn’t care if Peeta is there.

Author’s Note: This is technically my first foray into Everlark, though not into HG. Many thanks to @mandelion82​ for being my point person, @eiramrelyat​ for keeping me on schedule, and @jroseley​ for proofread!

____________

Katniss didn’t like to be bothered during the lunch period, and that was precisely why Madge Undersee was the perfect companion. The other girls in their grade liked to call Madge an ice queen behind her back and say things about how she was spoiled and stuck-up, but Katniss knew that was just gossip. There was nothing stuck-up about Madge, even though she was the mayor’s daughter. She was just quiet, studious, and a little shy. 

She was also a good friend - the only friend Katniss had, really, even if all they ever did was eat lunch together. She didn’t ask questions, or pry, and only ever wanted to talk about school, and that was just fine with Katniss.

Delly Cartright, one grade ahead of them, was the exact opposite of Madge, and it was hard for Katniss not to hold it against her. There was nothing wrong with Delly; she was friendly, and very loud, with a wide smile that lit up her otherwise plain face, but she was also nosy in a harmless sort of way that set Katniss’ teeth on edge.

And she was currently winding her way through the cafeteria, handing out fliers.

“She’s coming over here,” Madge muttered, and Katniss groaned around her bite of dry baloney sandwich. 

“Hey!” Delly said brightly, shoving a flier under Katniss’ nose and shaking it until she took it. “It sucks that Halloween is on a Tuesday this year, so my parents said I could have a party! We’ll have candy, and bobbing for apples, and my dad’s even building a haunted house in the shed! You have to come!”

Surveying the flier, Katniss sighed a little in relief. The party was on Saturday. “I can’t,” she said, feigning a sadness she didn’t really feel. “I have to watch my sister. Sorry.”

“Oh that’s okay,” Delly chirped, shoving the flier back at her when Katniss tried to return it. “My little brother is having friends over too. Just bring her! Madge?”

Madge met Katniss’ eye across the table, the corner of her mouth quirking up in an expression that was almost a smile. 

“Sure,” Madge said, folding the flier and sticking it into her binder. “Sounds fun.”

Delly beamed. “Great! Oh, and there’s gonna be a costume contest so dress to impress!”

Then she was gone, her blonde pigtails trailing behind her as she all but skipped to the next table.

“Why are you making that face?” Madge asked when Delly was out of earshot. “It’ll be fun. Probably.”

But Katniss wasn’t really listening, because two tables over Delly was handing a flier to Peeta Mellark. 

Katniss could only see the back of his head, but she would have known it anywhere - she’d only been staring at it the last two years, ever since the last (and only) time they’d ever spoken, that cold winter morning in the alley behind the bakery. He’d cut his hair short when school had started, but it had grown out so much it almost touched his collar and curled in ringlets around his ears. 

“I bet Peeta will be there,” Madge said, startling Katniss out of her unscheduled jaunt down memory lane.

Katniss took an angry bite of her sandwich. “What do I care if Peeta will be there?” she mumbled as she chewed.

Madge just shrugged. “I mean you’re always staring at him.”

“No I’m not!” Katniss snapped.

“Whatever you say,” Madge placated, turning her attention back to the book she’d been reading before Delly had approached them.

Katniss didn’t reply, and she was grateful when Madge seemed to drop the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss the complicated and very alien feelings Peeta had been inspiring in her of late. 

“I mean it’s fine,” Madge said after a protracted silence. “He’s cute. And he’s nice. A lot nicer than the other boys in our class.”

There was movement over Madge’s shoulder, a flash of blue eyes and bouncing blonde curls, but by the time Katniss had registered it Peeta had turned back around in his seat. All she could do was stare at the back of his head, and wonder what he’d been looking at - if he’d been looking at her.

Madge seemed to take her silence as agreement, and they finished their lunch in peace

***

That Saturday evening, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom she shared with Prim, Katniss couldn’t help feeling like the whole evening was a bad idea. She didn’t like crowds, she definitely didn’t like parties, and she’d felt too old for Halloween since her dad had died. She felt silly and childish, even in her simple black dress, and she knew that feeling would only be magnified by the pointed black hat sitting in the counter beside the sink. 

Costumes were stupid. Halloween was stupid.

With a deeply unhappy sigh, she snatched the hat off the counter and turned out the light.

Downstairs, Prim was sitting on the kitchen table while their Uncle’s girlfriend finished applying rhinestone stickers around her eyes.

“Katniss, sweetie, are you sure I can’t help you with your makeup?” Effie asked as she pressed another rhinestone to the corner of Prim’s left eye.

“Yes,” Katniss answered sharply, annoyed at having to answer the same question for what felt like the millionth time. Across the room Haymitch cleared his throat, and she added, “I’m fine, thanks,” a little more gently. She didn’t dislike the woman, exactly, but Effie was a busybody of the highest order and Katniss sometimes felt like she couldn’t take a breath without Effie asking her about the air quality on her side of the room.

Prim enjoyed her, though. It was obvious to Katniss that her sister missed their mother, and even if she didn’t feel the same way she could understand why Prim would be happy to have another woman doting on her. That that woman was Effie didn’t seem to bother Prim in the least.

“C’mere a second, kid,” Haymitch said, nodding toward the foyer. “I wanna talk to you.”

Katniss followed him, feeling surly, and stared at her shoes - new chucks, no holes in the toes, soles still attached - while Haymitch looked at her with his arms crossed. 

“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” he said finally. Katniss spread the skirt of her dress out as if to say, Well duh, but Haymitch sighed and continued, “Not the costume. Costume’s pretty cute, actually. I meant your face. You know you don’t have to go just because someone invited you.”

“Prim’s excited,” she replied, only realizing she’d said the wrong thing when Haymitch started rubbing his forehead like he had a headache and looking at her like he could see right into her soul.

This was the thing Katniss hated about living with her Uncle Haymicth - though he wasn’t her uncle, or even blood exactly, no matter if Katniss had gotten so used to Prim pretending that she’d started doing it herself. He was their dad’s second cousin; they’d shared the same grandmother and spent the same childhood together running wild through the forests of the Allegheny Mountains. That was all Katniss had known about him as a small child, and it wasn’t until she got older that she’d picked up the rest of the gossip from neighbors - that the same accident that killed his family had also made him rich, and that he’d wasted a good chunk of that change trying to drown himself in drink. 

He hadn’t looked good at the funeral, but he’d spent hours talking with their mother, and a few months later she’d sent the girls to live with him - and not in his crummy, run-down apartment over the local bar, but in a refurbished bungalow situated neatly between two other refurbished bungalows on a wide, shady street where the trees grew taller than the houses. It turned out that chunk of change was considerably larger than most people knew. 

He’d even stopped drinking, as far as Katniss could tell, or at least that was the excuse he always gave the girls for his terrible moods. 

The fact that he seemed to understand her better than even her own father ever had was both a blessing and a curse. She didn’t always have to say what she was thinking, and he didn’t let Effie badger her too much, but it also meant he wouldn’t “let her bullshit slide”, as he liked to put it when they butted heads - which was frequently. 

“Prim’s old enough to go to a party on her own,” he said after a long silence. “She’s more than old enough.”

Katniss couldn’t keep herself from frowning. “She’s only ten.”

“Yeah,” Haymitch said with a sharp laugh. “Almost as old as you were when you came to live with me. Plenty old enough.”

“I wanna go,” Katniss insisted, forcing a smile onto her face and praying Haymitch wouldn’t see through it.

It didn’t work, of course. She could tell by the way Haymitch was shaking his head at her. “All right, sweetheart” he said, lifting his hands in surrender. “It’s your Saturday night, you can do whatever you want with it.”

“I wanna go,” she repeated. “My friends will be there.”

“You have friends now?” Haymitch teased. Dropping an arm around her shoulders, he steered her back toward the kitchen. “I suppose we wouldn’t want to jeopardize that.”

“What’s jeopardize mean?” Prim asked from where she was still sitting on the table. 

“To put in danger,” Effie offered before announcing, “All done!”

Prim hopped off the table and struck a pose, bowing when Katniss applauded politely. 

“Tell me one more time what you are?” Haymitch asked, taking a seat at the table and dragging Effie toward him with an arm around her waist.

“A unicorn surgeon!” Prim exclaimed, turning in a circle to show off her costume, which was a white leotard under child-sized scrubs, a face mask, and a felt hood in the shape of a horse’s head, with the horn protruding through the surgeon’s cap holding back a mane of rainbow yarn. A rainbow yarn tail had been pinned to the back of her scrubs, and rainbow rhinestones rimmed her big, blue eyes. 

“Is that a surgeon for unicorns, or a surgeon… unicorn?” Haymitch asked.

“The second one,” Prim said. “Are we ready to go?”

“Oh!” Effie exclaimed, clapping her hands together and turning to Katniss. “One more thing. I have something for you, darling. Now I know you said you didn’t need anything, but I just thought you could use a little bit of color. Close your eyes and let me help you with this, and if you don’t like it we’ll just take it right off!”

Katniss felt her hackles raise as Effie pulled away from Haymitch and approached her with a black plastic bag. She was just about to say, ‘No, thank you,’ when Haymitch nudged her foot with his own and gave her a look that clearly said, Be nice. 

So Katniss said, “Okay,” and closed her eyes. 

Effie directed her to hold her arms out at her sides, and tied something around her waist before pinning something to her hat, then she turned Katniss around and guided her to the mirror hanging in the hallway before announcing, “Open your eyes!”

Katniss had to applaud Effie for her restraint. All she’d done was tie an orange sash around Katniss’ waist and pin a large orange flower to the side of her hat. The shade of the sash was not the bright, garish orange of the season, but a soft, muted color. It was simple, almost understated, but it did perk up her costume and add an air of festivity that had been lacking. Against her will, Katniss found herself smiling. 

“I knew you’d like it,” Effie said when she saw Katniss smiling. “Orange looks so good with your skintone.”

“Let’s go!” Prim enthused, running into the hallway to grab her coat off the hooks by the door. “It’s almost six!”

“No such thing as fashionably late in middle school, I suppose,” Effie murmured as she helped Prim. 

“Here,” Haymitch said, joining them in the foyer and shoving a $20 bill at Katniss. “Just in case.”

“It’s four blocks away,” Katniss said as she tucked the money into her shoe.

“Just in case,” Haymiucth said again as he handed her her coat. 

“Call when you get there,” Effie reminded them as Katniss herded her sister out the door. “Have fun. Be good guests!”

Never in her life had anyone told Katniss to be a good guest, but she just said, “We will,” and took Prim’s hand to pull her down the front steps and out onto the sidewalk. 

The air was crisp and chilly, and Prim skipped along beside Katniss as the girls hurried along. 

“Haymitch is right,” Prim said as they crossed the street at the end of the block. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop,” Katniss replied.

Prim just laughed. “Okay, Effie.”

“I want to go,” Katniss insisted. “I just…”

“Don’t like parties?” Prim offered. “Or people?”

Katniss made a noise of protest. “I like people.”

“Like three people,” Prim allowed. “Maybe four, when you’re in a good mood. Is Madge gonna be there?”

“I think so,” Katniss answered. 

“Gale?”

Gale Hawthorn, her best friend for all intents and purposes, had started high school that year. As a result, they’d seen even less of each other than usual. Gale still lived in the run-down part of town where Katniss and Prim had grown up, and while he maintained he didn’t hold her moving away against her, he didn’t often act like it.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “What would a high schooler want with a middle schooler’s Halloween party?”

“You’ll be there,” Prim said, and Katniss didn’t like that implication. Gale had been acting a little weird recently, but she’d chalked it up to high school stuff. “What about Peeta?”

The casual query almost gave Katniss whiplash. “What about Peeta?”

“Do you think he’ll be there?” Prim pressed, closing her mouth tightly in a way Katniss knew meant she was trying to keep a smile off her face.

“How should I know?” Katniss said sharply.

Prim laughed, and linked her arm through Katniss’. “Don’t get mad. I’m just asking.”

Katniss tried not to grimace. “I’m not mad. I just don’t know why you think I’d know.”

And she wasn’t mad, not really. She just didn’t understand why everyone was suddenly asking her about Peeta - she thought she’d been more careful than that. 

The Cartwright’s lived just a few blocks away, and it didn’t take the sisters long to reach their house. When Katniss went to knock on the door it swung open under her fist and they could hear the sounds of screaming children before they’d even stepped inside!

“The Everdeen girls!” Mrs. Cartwright exclaimed, bustling them into the high-ceilinged entryway. There was clearly an adult party going on in the rooms behind her. “Prim, the littler kids are out in the backyard. They’ve got some games going, and there’s cider and snacks out there. Delly’s down in the basement, Katniss, with pizza and pop. There’s more food in the dining room if you get hungry, and if you need anything at all come find me or Mr. Cartwright, or one of the waiters. Have fun!” 

Then before Katniss could ask where the basement door was she left just as quickly as she’d come, disappearing into the crowd of costumed adults, her Marie Antionette costume swishing behind her. 

“How does she know our names?” Prim asked, but all Katniss could do was shrug. 

They stood for awhile, each turning in a circle to take in the grand house around them. Katniss thought the house she and Prim lived in now was much too nice, but this house easily put it to shame. 

“Okay, little duck,” Katniss said, but that was as far as she got before Prim’s hurried, “Bye!” stopped her in her tracks, and she watched helplessly as her sister all but abandoned her, leaving her standing in the entryway alone. 

With a sigh, she set out to find the basement door. 

It didn’t take long. She could feel the noise coming up from the basement through the soles of her shoes, and she followed the noise to a door in the kitchen. That door led to stairs, and those stairs led down into a large finished room that contained every kid her age that Katniss knew, and many she didn’t. The space was hot, dark, and crowded; all the regular light bulbs had been replaced with novelty light bulbs that glowed red and purple, and she could barely see the food table through the kids standing around it. At the other end of the basement was the biggest TV she’d ever seen. 

“Katniss!” Delly called, somehow spotting her through the crowd from her place on the couch. “Come sit down! We just started the movie.”

“Um,” Katniss replied, conscious of the fact that almost everyone in the basement was now looking at her. “Okay.”

“Grab a drink!” Delly replied before twisting back around in her seat to face the TV. 

Pouring herself a generous helping of coke into a red solo cup, she snatched up a cheesy breadstick as she walked by and then picked her way through her classmates who hadn’t been lucky enough to snag a seat on the couch and were sitting on the floor. 

Madge waved at her from her spot near Delly’s feet, but Katniss’ eyes caught and held on the boy sitting beside Delly on the couch. Big blue eyes stared back at her out of the scariest, most life-like skeleton face she had ever seen. 

“Hi Katniss,” Peeta said, giving her a small wave. “Do you want my seat?”

People were staring again, but then someone in a chair behind the couch shouted, “Down in front!” startling Katniss into replying with a short, sharp, “No.”

Maybe she’d only imagined the way Peeta’s face had fallen, but as she took a seat on the floor beside Madge she was hyperaware of him. The space was so crowded she had to sit up straight or risk resting her back against his legs. She swore she could feel the heat coming off him. 

Beside her, Madge whispered, “Thanks for sitting with me. Hold my hand?”

“What?” katniss demanded. “Why?”

“I’m pretty sure Drew Barrymore is about to die.”

Panic squeezed Katniss’ heart as she grabbed Madge’s hand. “What?”

“We’re watching Scream,” Delly said excitedly, leaning over between Katniss and Madge. “Have you seen it?”

Katniss shook her head mutely. She’d never seen any horror movie. 

“Good,” Delly said with glee.

Madge was right, as it turned out. Drew Barrymore did die, though Katniss didn’t see what happened, as she was hiding her eyes behind her free hand while Madge did her best to crush the bones in the other, and it only got worse from there. The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up several notches every time the creeper in the mask jumped out to terrorize Sydney Prescott, boys and girls alike screaming and jumping out of their seats. At one point Peeta all but kicked her in the back.

The room was too hot. Katniss was sweating under her dress, and every time Madge jumped coke sloshed out of Katniss’ cup and into her lap. Her chest felt tight, and she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Even with her eyes shut, she could hear the wet squelch of someone being stabbed, and her stomach turned when her mind couldn’t help supplying her images.

She felt so stupid when she started thinking of her dad, dead two years now in a mining accident. Was it hot and caustic when he died, people panicking as they pressed against him, screaming for daylight and fresh air? Were there emergency lights shining red, pushing back the edges of black, or had they lost power in the same explosion that had severed the cables of the car on the hoist? How many had survived that explosion? How many had waited in the darkness to die?

On the TV, Matthew Lillard pulled a man, bound and gagged, out of the basement. Sydney said, “Daddy!” her voice high and breathless, and Katniss couldn’t take it anymore. 

She twisted in her seat, pulling her hand from Madge’s, and before she could think about it she barrelled through an opening on the couch, climbing over the back as fast as her shaking legs could carry her. Luckily she didn’t have to push past anybody - everyone was staring again, and they moved out of her way, leaving a clear path to the stairs, which she climbed two at a time until she was in the bright, fluorescent light of the kitchen. 

But it wasn’t enough. The kitchen was still too warm, and now the adults were staring at her, some with concern but most with the quiet disdain the rich showed to ill-behaved children, and Katniss found herself bolting back the way she’d come, out into the entryway and through the front door- 

-where she ran right into Peeta, who’d been sitting on the steps but had stood up when he’d heard her coming. His arms came up around her as they tumbled down the steps, landing in a tangle of arms and legs on the brick sidewalk. The only reason Peeta didn’t smack his head was because Katniss’ elbow cushioned the blow. Pain spiraled up her arm, radiating out from the place where his head rested in the crook of her elbow, but Peeta was already sitting up.

“Jeez,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “Warn a guy, maybe?” He grabbed her shoulders, helping her to sit up, and asked, “Are you okay?”

This kindness was her breaking point. Horrified, she put her hands over her face and tried to quell the sudden rush of tears, but it was no use. She took a haggard breath, and then she was sobbing on the sidewalk, tears running down her face to drip off her chin and leave dark splotches on the skirt of her dress. 

Peeta didn’t seem to know what to do. He patted her shoulder awkwardly and murmured something that was probably supposed to be soothing, but that only made her cry harder. 

She hadn’t thought of her dad in months. She’d thought she was past the wild, unprovoked sobbing phase of grieving. Never mind that Halloween had been his favorite holiday, that he’d loved costumes and taking his girls trick-or-treating, that last year she’d been so sad she’d stayed in bed the whole day. 

Two years was plenty of time to get over it. 

Why couldn’t she just get over it?

“Here,” Peeta said, grasping her by the shoulders and helping her to stand. “Sit down.”

He disappeared into the house while Katniss tried to get her crying under control, and she’d all but managed it by the time he returned. He handed her a plastic cup filled to the brim with ice water, and a small stack of napkins.

“Thank you,” she said reflexively.

“It’s okay,” Peeta said, sitting down beside her. “I don’t like scary movies either.”

“It’s not the movie!” And it wasn’t the movie. The movie was stupid. She couldn’t care less about the movie. “There were too many people, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about my dad! The way he died - we didn’t even have a body to bury!” 

She broke down again, horrified at the words coming out of her mouth. She’d never talked about her dad, not to anyone. Not to Prim or Haymitch, not to the counselor at school she’d seen once a week for an entire month. Now here she was, spewing her deepest fears to the one person she didn’t want looking too closely at her, because she knew if he did, he wouldn’t like what he saw. And then he’d stop looking altogether. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, obviously at a loss. “That’s really awful.”

Then he did something Katniss wasn’t expecting, something she hadn’t even known she’d needed: he sat quietly beside her and let her cry. He didn’t try to touch her, or offer empty words, just waited with her until the tears subsided and her breath came a little easier. 

Only once her grief subsided shame crept in to take its place. She couldn’t believe she’d cried in front of Peeta. 

“What are you doing out here anyway?” she asked, trying to cover up her own discomfort. 

“I told you,” he said. “I don’t like scary movies.”

“I don’t know many boys who would admit that,” she said, glancing at him through the veil of her wet eyelashes.

Peeta smiled a little. “I don’t care who knows. Anyway, it paid off today.”

“You’d rather watch me cry?” she asked, uncrumpling the napkins in her lap. 

“Not the crying part.” Peeta bumped her shoulder gently with his own. “But watching you…”

She couldn’t help the laugh that jumped out of her mouth. “That’s weird.

She kept laughing while Peeta sputtered, “No, I - I didn’t mean that I watch you, I just look at you a lot-”

“That’s not better!” Katniss cut in, smiling now. 

“Look!” Peeta said. “I’m not trying to be weird. I know you don’t like me very much, but-”

“I like you,” Katniss said before she could stop herself. Then, because she’d already let the cat out of the bag, “I, um. I like you a lot.”

She couldn’t look at him after that. He was blushing to the tips of his ears, but she turned her face to the darkening sky before she could see his expression, pretending to look at the stars that were just beginning to appear. 

“No offense,” he said finally, “but.. You should be nicer to people you like.”

Her head snapped up, ready to glare - who berated a crying girl who’d just divulged a deep secret? - but Peeta was smiling teasingly at her, his teeth gleaming white against his black and gray face paint. 

“I’m just not a very nice person,” she allowed, feeling warmth flow through her. What a turn the evening had taken. 

“You can work on it,” he said playfully, nudging her shoulder again. 

“I make no promises,” she replied, and in the silence that followed Katniss could feel an unfamiliar sort of tension strung between the two of them. 

This was the most they’d talked in almost two years, ever since that frosty February morning behind the bakery. He’d been the one crying then, sitting on the back steps of the kitchen  and holding the collar of his shirt to a split lip. 

(If Haymitch’s drinking was the worst kept secret in town, Mrs. Mellark’s temper was the second worst kept secret.)

All she’d done was ask if he was okay, offer him the handkerchief from her coat pocket. That had made him laugh. “Who carries a handkerchief?” he’d asked, and she’d said, “My dad does,” because that was the only reason she herself had one. 

“I think about that day a lot,” Peeta said suddenly, as if he could read her mind. “I thought maybe we’d be friends after that, but…:”

But then her dad had died, and her life as she’d known it had ended, and all those handkerchiefs were still at her mom’s house, stuffed in a dresser drawer full of things she hadn’t been able to look at in years. 

Katniss didn’t want to think about that anymore. 

“We can be friends now,” she offered.

“Okay,” Peeta agreed, grinning. 

Katniss smiled back. “Okay.”

“Hey,” she said a few minutes later as they made their way back into the house. “If you don’t like scary movies, why did you come to the party?”

“Honestly?” Peeta asked, waiting for her to nod before continuing bashfully. “I hoped you would be here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said awkwardly. “Also, I really like Halloween.”

Again, her mouth moved without her brain’s permission, and she said, “You should come trick-or-treating with me. Us. Me and my sister. If you want to. I know it’s sort of childish, but-”

“Awesome,” Peeta interrupted, and she was grateful because there was no telling what would have come out of her mouth if she’d been allowed to keep talking.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “Awesome. Okay.”

“Do you wanna go back downstairs?” he asked. “I might go out back and see what the other kids are doing.”

“I’ll come with you,” Katniss said quickly, before her nerves could fail her. She didn’t know what was happening, but she knew she didn’t want it to end. 

“Cool,” Peeta said, blushing again. 

Katniss just smiled, and followed him out into the back yard. 

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Sardines, or Professor Vargas is an Asshole

Another fic from someone who’s only half-read everything. Told in second person, starring a female Yuu.

Content warnings for coarse language, kidnapping, sexual harassment along the lines of Vargas being similar to Gaston, and being deeply, direly self indulgent.

As always, please let me know if you enjoyed it, I live and breathe for positive feedback.

You do not like Professor Vargas, and the feeling is mutual.

It wasn't like the almost amiable vitriol between you and Schonheit, which, while having its ups and downs, was usually at a level of shooting a few insults at each other in between whatever dorm prefect business had you talking to each other, and parting ways with a hair flip on his part and a rude hand guesture on yours. And hell, the other teachers seemed almost fond of you. Trein appreciated you passion for history, even if annoyed at your preference for layman-oriented literature, and would let you sound off about whatever strange bit of lore you'd recently found out, and even once down and listened very patiently as you tried to explain who Emperor Norton was before he said you needed to leave so he could mark papers. Crewel and you had reached an uneasy truce where he did not call you a puppy, and you did not start going "what happens when these go together" in potions class every time he called you that in protest. (You may be a bitch, but he certainly isn't allowed to imply it, even in the most roundabout of ways.)

But Vargas. Vargas hates your soft belly, your unwillingness to push yourself to the point of exhaustion, and most of all, he really, really hates that you're a girl that won't throw herself at his feet. You were trundling along at a swift walking pace on a broom, a mere few feet off the ground, when he stopped yelling at your classmates to pick on you instead.

"Too weak to do better than that?"

"I'm not magic. That I can do this at all is impressive." You're pointedly looking ahead, not looking at him jogging up beside you.

"You can go higher!"

"Professor," you say with barely contained irritation, "I am a beginner, and would much rather have the basics down before I attempt to turn myself into a fine paté from a hundred feet up."

He snorted. "Ashengrotto goes high; you can too."

"Azul's damn near in tears by the time he comes down because he didn't even have legs before a few years ago. He's not a good example."

Vargas, being a wretched asshole who should not be allowed to teach, instead tipped the end of your broom up. Only the broom shot into the air, you merely went ass-over-teakettle onto the grass, and stayed there because if you got up you would attempt to bite his nose clean off.

"Such poor balance! But I can fix that with some private lessons!" Oh, Christ. "You come by here after dark, I know all about teaching a girl how to ride -”

At that, you kicked him in the shin, and while he started back in pain, you shot up and started walking off the field, vibrating with the strength of your disgust.

"You can't hit a teacher! You'll regret this you stupid-" And you've picked up to a jog, because fuck if you were going to listen to that piece of shit try and pick up one of his own fucking students, what the actual fuck.

~*~*~*~

You relayed this whole mess across the supper table, afterwards, and your host was just as grossed out as you were.

"Keep an eye out next class," Azul said to you. "He holds a grudge."

"First hand knowledge?”

His silence was telling.

"You think I could get an exemption? Or like, permission to do a treadmill when everyone's out on a broom?"

"Who do you think you have to ask about all fitness-related things?" Azul had a faraway look that recalled war films. "It's not going to work.”

"What if I start skipping class?"

He gave you a look that could wither an evergreen. "Don't you dare, or he'll start picking on me again."

You shrugged. "Aight. I got three days to figure out what to do, then. You got any ideas?”

He folded his hands and rested his head upon them. "What would you pay?"

"No."

"Come on."

"What do I even have that you want?"

"I can think of a few things. The wave in your hair, or the gleam off your teeth."

"Because you need more curl to your hair."

"Someone might want to contract me for them."

"No. I got three days, Azul, we don't have to resort to your contracts.”

As it turned out, you did not have three days.

~*~*~*~

The next day's gym class was a motley bunch. Idia couldn't miss any more gym days this month, Lilia was doing his stretches, Floyd was... being Floyd, resulting in everyone who wasn't Rook giving him a wide berth, and Leona appeared to be skipping class and was therefore not present for the upcoming bullshit.

"Sorry I'm late!" Cater jogged in, cheery as sunshine though the clouds, and Idia rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't strain. "Laps today?"

"Vargas said we're doing Capture the Flag. Dunno how the teams'll go." Lilia was doing something complicated with his hands as he stretched his arms. "Kingscholar's absent, so they'll be uneven. And," he thumbed over at Rook, who was looking into the forest with the coiled intensity of a greyhound waiting for the rabbit to spring, "he's got an advantage, he knows the woods best."

"Yeah, but I've got unlimited data and a GPS." Cater patted his chest with a smile, the outline if his phone visibly through a pocket.

"Can't count on that for everything."

"Alright students!" yelled Vargas, strolling out of the woods with a bruise purpling one cheek. "Capture the Flag today. Use your brooms to navigate the forest, grab the flag, whoever brings it back gets the flag as a prize."

"It's in the forest, hanging from a pole in a clearing, you cannot miss it! All in white, too..." The professor brought up a little screen, showing off a live feed of his flag.

The flag, of course, was you, trussed up with rope and you legs hanging freely, still in last night's sleep shirt. Your voice came out, tinny from the speakers: "I did not consent to this, asshole."

The students were torn between looking at Vargas in shock, looking at the phone in shock, and muttering between themselves.

"Don't forget to have all the fun you want with the flag before you bring it back to me! When else will you get the chance?"

This just had everyone looking at each other with shifty-eyed suspicion.

"Every man for himself! Go get your prize!"

~*~*~*~

Vargas couldn't rig worth a damn. You're twenty feet in the air with just one rope suspending you, tied at the base with a simple knot. Everything hurt from chafing, you were cold, and you couldn't help but worry over what the hell was going to happen, depending on who found you. Vil still hadn't forgiven you for projecting a gorefest of a film across the walls of Pomefiore, so he might leave you to rot or use the situation to put a particularly vicious curse on you. Idia would probably drop dead of exhaustion after reaching you, leaving you both stuck. Floyd, well. As much as you enjoyed his company, it was like hand feeding a pet tiger; eventually he'll decide your hands tastes better, it's just a matter of when. You're running the numbers on most likely scenarios based on who shows up, when some twigs snap by the meadow's edge and you look towards a small "Hi."

Little ears! Little hands! Little all over, and looking up at you with curiousity as his tail swished. Chen'ya? No, no, other Ch- name. "Cheka! Hi, sweetie, honey, baby, can you get me down?" You'd already been here an hour and your hands were nothing but tingles.

"... Okay! Why're you up there?"

"Bad man," you say as he starts to tug at the rope. "You got it?"

He shook his head. "It's hard."

"Can you go get help, honey? Bring them back to get me down?"

He nodded. This was a big boy job, he could do it. "I'll get Uncle Leona."

Please don't, you thought to yourself, but instead said "Okay, please be quick, Cheka."

He started off towards the school, and you could have sworn he vanished before he actually hit the treeline.

~*~*~*~

He was only gone for a few minutes before you realized that you were starting to move. Turns out Cheka, despite being so small, had pulled enough at the rope before he left that the knot was unraveling.

"Oh shi-" is as far as you got before you're in freefall, and you yelped as you hit the ground feet first, wheezing. Fuck. You can barely move to survey the damage, because a certain asshole had put your hands behind your back, and every move made your ankles wail in pain. The only saving grace was that the ground was soft.

At least someone had landed by you, looking you up and down.

"... Hi, Yuu."

"... Hi, Lil."

Lilia pointed up. "You're supposed to be up there."

"Vargas was too busy trying to get upskirts to secure a fucking knot, apparently." You wince as he worked at the ropes. "My feet?"

"On the right way." You gritted your teeth and hissed as he prodded at them. "Both badly sprained, left worse than right. You're not walking out of here."

"Figured." You sat up and held your arms out. "Come on, old man, you're stronger than you look."

He was, but was too small to leverage you correctly.

"Can't you fly?"

"Yes," He said as he tried to balance you on the broom. 

"Then carry me.”

"You want me to drop you?"

"Nope."

"Do we just wait for the others?"

As if on cue, you heard distant yelling and what was maybe an explosion.  

"Yeah." Lil brightened, and snapped his fingers. "I saw a place, hold on."

Said place was either a nice treehouse or an okay deer blind, wide enough in the floor that you could lay flat out as he surveyed the damage. "This should be a good place."

"What the hell is going on out there?”

"Everyone's looking for you." Lil's settled crosslegged, with an amused smile. "Vargas said you're the prize, so everyone's trying to get here first. Isn't it good I found you? Who knows what they're planning."

You set your arm over your eyes and sighed. "Brave words from someone who's broken into my room more than once."

He shrugged. "You need looking after."

"De-organizing my things isn't looking after, you damned goblin."

He bristled. "I'm not a goblin."

"What is a goblin, Lilia."

"Small little fae who like to cause trouble."

"Exactly."

You couldn't see it, but you could feel the eye-roll.

~*~*~*~

It was five minutes at the most after that before Rook climbed in the door, looking so fresh-faced and joyful to see you it made you want to swat him. "Bonjour, my Trickster! You're living up to your name, hidden away!"

"Salut, Rook." You squinted at him. "You have first aid anything?"

"Hm," He said, prodding at your calf. "I have water, but these need wrapped."

"Give." Lilia took a sip of water before passing it to you. "The uniform denim won't tear easily-”

"Oh, we use this."

"Oh no you do not," You said as you tugged the hem of your sleep shirt from his hand. "No one here gets to see my underwear."

"I don't care about your panties, I care about this," he said as he brushed an ankle, making you jerk back. "It'll get worse if they aren't wrapped. There is fabric to spare.”

You huffed before you told him not to mention it to Vil, and between him and Lilia, you had two wrapped ankles and a dangerously short hemline. At least you'd actually put underwear on before Vargas decided to kidnap you, otherwise this would be a whole other level of distressing.

~*~*~*~

"You have a phone?"

Lilia pulled his from a hidden pocket. "You want to play Sweetie Scrunch?"

"No," You say as you take it from him and start flipping through his contacts. "I'm calling help."

It took him a whole three seconds before he realized who help was. "... Nope, nope, you're not getting Malleus involved, he will eat Vargas alive, we are not causing an international incident."

"Would you rather he find out after? And he knows how to heal." You'd already texted him a brief explanation one handed, the other keeping Lilia away.

"She is not wrong, monsieur... And it would be a delight to see him raise hell."

"See?" You gave Lilia a smile that would be very sweet if it wasn't full of the devil. "C'est bon."

~*~*~*~

Mal hurtled through the window so fast it was a miracle he didn't go clean through the far wall, before he was on top of you, fussing over his precious Child of Man.

"Mal, I am fine, please fix my -"

"Dreadful, simply dreadful." He was already working a prickly green light around your bruises. "And he did that, too?" he growled as he guestured to your ragged hemline."

"No, we did that to wrap my ankles. As much as I'd love to see it, we do not need to turn Vargas into - Mal. Mal. Put your clothing back-" He'd already managed to wrap you up in his green-trimmed uniform coat. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do." He already had you cradled in his lap, both arms around you in a vice grip. "You won't heal immediately, I must keep you safe until then.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. You were about to ask, before a dreadful wheezing started up from outside, and familiar pale hands had the bottom of the doorframe in a vice grip. "Help."

"Shit, Idia! Get him in here before he falls!"

~*~*~*~

Idia looked downright grey in your arms as you tried to get him to drink some water. For someone who had the physical fortitude of an overboiled noodle, he'd pushed himself to his limits looking for you, and then some.

"You're okay? Full health?" Idia sounded horribly raspy, and you fussed over his scrapes as you picked half-charred twigs from his hair. He was too tired to protest you holding onto him in much the same manner Malleus was holding onto you.

"Bout three-quarters. Fifty before Mal got here." Idia's eyes flicked to just behind your left ear before he shrank back.

You turned your head around, and Mal gave you his sweetest you're-my-best-friend smile. You looked back at Idia, who was attempting to shrink into something microscopic, and then back at Mal.

"Play nice. He's my friend too." 

Mal turned his face as innocent as he could muster. "Whatever do you mean, my friend?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do not." He wasn't looking at your face anymore.

"Yes you do. And he's you're friend too-"

Idia raised one hand tentatively. "We only play Dragon-Kun with each other."

You guestured down at Idia, still looking at Mal, looking anywhere but you. "You love your Dragon-kun. And maybe," you say as you nudge Malleus's cheek, "If you made more friends than me, you wouldn't have to be jealous when I have other friends?"

Mal's pupils were so narrow as to be barely visible when he glanced out of the corner of his eye at you, but he nodded, and mumbled a very quiet apology as Idia faintly relaxed.

"Impressive. I haven't been able to do that in years."

"That's because you're his dad."

"Do you think anyone else will show up, my Trickster? It's getting cramped in here."

You looked around and considered. "I mean, probably."

~*~*~*~

"Sevens?"

"Go fish."

"And that's when they added a dance emote, but it cause a glitch so the top half of your body started to spin around while the bottom half went normally, which would be okay, but if you collide with a wall then you clip about a mile above the ground and die from fall damage, and when they went to fix that -"

There were eight people in the treehouse, and no room for more. Mal had you in his lap in a corner. Idia was gesticulating wildly as he talked about what you were sure was this universe's version of Fallout 76, tucked against you at an angle. Floyd insisted on you using his lap as a footrest while he, Lilia and Cater played card games with an ancient deck Lilia had produced from another pocket. (You were not certain that Floyd's guesture was innocent, since he kept poking at your toes until you said you'd take them away if he didn't stop.) Rook was skipping this round to keep an eye out the window. There was maybe a half foot total of floor showing. Despite the magic fired and fists swung earlier, as soon as everyone had realized that no one was running to your rescue simply to perform their own indignities, everyone had relaxed.

Overall, it was very cozy, and as long as you could keep Idia talking instead of realizing he was crammed in a tiny room with a whole bunch of people, you could stay here quite comfortably for ages. Your ankles were currently only sore, with twinges of more, no one was at each other's throats, and as long as no one else fucked shit up, you could wait out Vargas, go home, and think about how in the hell you can report a teacher at this school for harassment.

"Trouble's coming."

Ah, shit.

Trouble, unfortunately, had figured out where they were due to the cluster of broomsticks at the base of the tree, flew to the window, and started spewing bullshit.

"What are you all doing? You abandoned the game," and here he guestured towards you, "and didn't come back with the prize. None of you would know what to do with a girl if she begged you!"

What a piece of shit, and he couldn't even read a room with eight sets of eyes glaring murder at him. He was still talking, but you weren't paying attention. Instead, you drained the last of the water, wiped your mouth on your arm, and took a deep breath.

"Get his ass."

~*~*~*~

Everyone scattered after that, not ready to deal with the consequences of ganging up on their teacher, even if he thoroughly deserved it. Everything will be dealt with tomorrow, when you can put weight on your legs without your knees buckling. Mal was walking you out of the woods personally in a princess carry, when he stopped in place.

"See, she's down, you didn't have to bug me."

You'd completely forgotten that Cheka had gone to bug Leona for help. "It's been hours."

He ignored that. "Draconia. What would your grandma say?"

"Mal-"

"I would hope she would be proud of my helping a friend." He held his head high, and brushed by Leona without another word.

"Bye!"

"Bye Cheka." You waved back at Cheka before the two lions were out of sight.

~*~*~*~

"Mal, you know you could just take me to my dorm, right?"

"Someone should keep an eye on you until you are fully healed," he said as he pulled out a pair of silk pajamas.

"Which you could do at my dorm, instead of." You guestured to the hangings on his bed. "Here."

"It's far more comfortable here than your dorm."

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed, Mal."

"You're not in a state to argue." He set the pajamas beside you, before turning to face the wall.

"About that."

He did not move a muscle.

"I'm surprised you didn't just heal them outright."

Silence.

"I know perfectly well that you can. So why didn't you?"

He still said nothing.

"Be that way, Malleus. But you know that's not okay." You flung the remains of your shirt at him, managing to catch it on one horn. "If you want me to stay over, just say that instead of conspiring to keep me dependent for an evening."

He turned, pulling the cloth from his horns, before his eyes nearly popped from his head and he hurriedly turned back to the wall. "I... am not used to this."

"Neither am I. We're going to have to have a little talk about boundaries and healthy friendships. You can turn around now."

He did, you patted the side of his bed, and he joined you.

"How do you want to do this, Mal."

"I do not."

"Tough titty, said the kitty."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know I'm the first real friend you've had. I've been on both ends of that. You know what happens when you cling real fucking hard to your friend, and try to isolate them because you don't wanna share?"

His face was a practiced mask of emotionlessness. "What is that?"

"They suffocate, and draw away because the intensity is way too much. And then no one's happy."

Mal frowned, but said nothing.

"I do want to be your friend. I like you. You're funny, you're deeply sincere, and you're still the same person I knew when I just called you Horned Boy. But I will cut this off if you try to isolate me. I do not want to, but I will have to. If you can't play nice with others, you don't get to play with me at all."

He's so clearly trying to hide his distress and irritation, but he could not help a sigh. "You are not wrong, Child of Man. And..." He looked away. "You won't live forever. Or be here forever, at that."

"I will not. You won't either, but like, you'll outlive me. Eggs in one basket, and all. Another reason to attempt to make more friends."

"Hm." He stretched out beside you, staring at the ceiling. "With who should I start? My reputation precedes me."

"Well," you smiled, "If I've learned one thing, forced proximity does wonders with forcing Idia to like you, and he's already somewhat used to you."

He smiled at the ceiling. "I do like him."

"Me too. You'd like his little brother."

"The creation?”

"Yeah. Look, I'll network for you with other people. And I'll make sure to invite you places."

"A promise?"

"Of course. Now, are you going to take me home, or put up with the rumours of keeping me in your room all night after beating up Vargas to get at me?"

"... Oh dear."

"Yeah."

After a moment, "... I am alright with the rumours."

You snorted. "You could just ask for a sleepover next time. Don't wait for an injury."

"I will ask."

"Make sure Sebek doesn't eat me in the morning."

"I would like to see him try." He gripped your closest hand and squeezed it.

"Me too."

You lay there a few moments, scary lonely dragon boy and strange lonely human kid, hand in hand.

"Do you have any tales from your home you could tell me?"

"Mostly ones you already kind of know."

"I would still like to hear."

Even a dragon wants a bedtime story, it seems.

[caitlyn-winchester]

Pilot (Part 2)

Cordell Walker x daughter!Reader

word count: 1,554

warnings: dead parent, abandonment?, mentions of deportation

A.N. sorry I haven't been that active about updating this story. I had some school assignments to complete(and still do). this past week I just been very unmotivated to do anything. I'll try to post more! Thank u for your patience.

masterlist

“What are we doing out here again?” Bel asked me as we hopped over a fence that led to an open field.

“Just looking at the stars, I guess. My mom used to take me out here all the time, especially on a full moon.” I told her, sitting down on the grass

“Full moon, like tonight.” she realized.

“Yeah.” I pulled out my leather-bound sketchbook and markers. “She let me draw the starscape while she took some pictures on her camera. I've drawn every single full moon since I was ten, I've missed a couple since she passed. The first couple of months were difficult to get myself to come out here. She even made this sketchbook” I explained. Bel put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I was so lucky to have her, she is an amazing friend.

“She sounds amazing Y/N. I wish I could meet her.” She said and I just nodded. “Can I see your drawings?”

“Sure.” I handed her the book and she started to flip through the pages

“You're really good” she complimented

“Thanks.” I gave a small smile. I layed down on the grass and looked at the stars. It's been a little while and we’ve been talking, looking at the stars or I've been doodling the sky. We heard hard footsteps in the distance and looked over to see someone running in our direction. “What the hell? I breathed out and sat up. As the person got closer I recognized the person. It’s Ryan Marshall from school.

“Ryan?” Bel said when he was just about to pass us but he stopped when he heard his name.

“Hey guys!” he slurred. I rolled my eyes, great he’s drunk.

“Hey! You! Stop!” We heard from the same direction Ryan came from. Two police officers came running over and Ryan took off again. One police officer continued to chase ryan but the other stopped and looked at us.

“What are you ladies doing out here? Were y’all also at that party down the block.” he asked us pointing a flashlight at us. I put my hand out to block my eyes. Does he really gotta shine that thing directly in my face?

“No sir, we were just stargazing. We never stepped foot in that party. You can test us if you'd like.” I explained and Bel agreed with my statement.

“No, you guys don't seem drunk or anything. But you are trespassing.” he told us.

“Trespassing? I thought this was a public field.” I blurted.

“Last month this field was issued for game only during this season. You can only be on this field if you have a hunting license.” he explained “I’ll have to take you into the station for trespassing.”

“Can’t you let us off with a warning? We had no idea and you have no signs up!” I jabbed

“Sorry missy its protocol.” He read us our rights and asked us if we had any weapons and all the other police crap that's part of their ‘protocol’.

»»————-　★　————-««

Currently we are at the police station waiting for our parents to pick us up. Bel told me about her parents and how they might get deported since she was brought in. I feel terrible, I has no idea they changed the field over for a stupid game season. Just another thing I messed up. Luckily Stan Morrison was able to drop our charges since I explained exactly what happened and he understood. Unfortunately, we were taking in so our parents must pick us up since we are minors. We were waiting for probably a good thirty minutes when I saw my dad round the corner. I’m shocked he actually showed up, that’s a new one. I do really want to jump up and hug him but something in me is just mad at him for leaving us so I can’t bring myself to. Also being picked up at a police station was not my ideal first meeting of my dad after his absence.

“And here he is to save the day” I say under my breath.

“Good to see you too.” He said and approached us.

“Dad, this is Bel. Can we take her home?” I asked him.

“No. minors have to be picked up by their parents.”

“Well i’m not just leaving her here.”

“Then you can stay in a cell here tonight.”

Bel’s parents enter the police station. Dad takes his hat off and approaches them.

“It’s good to meet ya’ll. I've been out of town for a while so I don't really know Y/N’s social life. We should spend some time together.” he says.

“Stop it.” I whisper. He can't be serious right now.

“...Seems like the girls got into some trouble tonight so maybe we could help each other out.” he explains. Bella’s parents don't say anything as another police officer calls them back.

“Epic first meeting.” Bel sighs.

“I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing.” I apologize for my dad’s actions.

“For who? Lets go.” Dad shot at me and I just rolled my eyes. I grabbed my sketchbook off the seat and gave Bel a quick hug before leaving the station with my dad.

»»————-　★　————-««

The car ride home was an awkward one. Like what do I even say to him? ‘Nice to finally see you again after you abandoned us for almost a year’ I don't think that's the nicest thing to say. I felt sweet relief when I saw us pull up to my grandparents house. I took off my seat belt and opened the car door.

“Y/N,” dad warned. I stopped opening the door and started fidgeting with the edge of my sketchbook. “Want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

“I didn't know we were trespassing. There was no sign or anything to tell us pedestrians were not allowed on the field. Apparently they recently changed it or something, I don't know. Mom used to take me out to that field all the time. I didn't think anything of it.” I explained. He nodded in understanding.

“It's still dangerous. What if a hunter thought you were a deer and shot you? I don't like you out alone. I know you had Bel with you, but there's some bad people out there that can overpower you guys. I’d rather you be home for dinner with your family at night.” He told me.

“Oh like how you were home for dinner last night?” I challenged and he sighed. “Mom said you'd never be on a case too long.” I remarked.

“And I never meant to be.” dad said and I shook my head in disbelief. “This last case...it got complicated.” he explained.

“Complicated?” I scoffed. “A five minute phone call this summer, then nothing for three months! It’s bad enough we didn't have mom” I pointed out.

“We both gotta stop acting like she's going to come back.” he stated. I jumped out of the car and burst into tears. Uncle Liam was outside now and he tried to reach out to me but I ignored him. August was right in the living room when I entered the house.

“Y/N? What's wrong? What happened? Where’s dad” he asked me.

“Its nothing August. Just leave it alone.” I sniffed, trying my best to contain myself for my brother’s sake.

“Why were you at the police station? I thought you were just going to yours and mom’s spot?” he nagged on.

“I did. It's some kind of hunting ground now, you can’t go on it without a hunting license. You done with the twenty questions?” I snapped.

“Y/N, want to come have some leftovers?” my grandma asked me. Well she technically asked but she was actually telling me to get my ass over there.

“Sure Grams” I sighed and sat down by the kitchen island. She put down a plate of her famous pot roast and I dug in. While I ate she was cleaning up the kitchen.

“You’re not going to ask me what I did?” I inquired.

“No, because I know you’re a good, smart kid and you wouldn't do anything too damaging on purpose.” She offered me a kind smile. “Plus I know what tonight is with the full moon. I can put two and two together.” she laughed. Uncle Liam and dad walked in the house but I didn't hear them enter so I continued talking.

“Last month, they changed the field for ‘game hunting only’. I had no idea, so Bel and I got charged for trespassing. I can’t go out to that field anymore. Now I feel like another piece of mom is gone.” I confessed tears welling up in my eyes again.

“You can still go draw the stars, I know your mom would love for you to keep doing y'all's traditions. I'll even go out with you.” she offered.

“Thanks Grandma. I appreciate it, I really do, but it just wouldn't be the same.” I sighed.

“Not many things are going to be the same, Y/N.” she stated.

“I miss her so much.” I started sobbing. Grandma rounded the island and pulled me into a hug.

“I know you do sweetie.” she consoled, rubbing her hand in circles on my back, trying her best to comfort me.

A.N. sorry if you don't like to draw. Emily seemed like the type of parent that liked her kids to be creative, like August and photography. So I figured drawing could be what the reader and Emily did together. 

PART 3 OUT NOW

[madasthesea]

Love, hate on

By @madasthesea for @the-dust-of-stars

Part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Original Female Villain, Original Male Villains

Summary: She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. An eye for an eye, a child for a child.

Mara Shepherd crouched silently in the back of a gray van, eyes fixed on the surveillance footage playing on the little laptop screen in front of her. Any minute now, Tony Stark would be walking past her van.

She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

He appeared on screen, his goatee making him instantly recognizable even on the pixelated screen.

“Go,” she barked to Elliot and Greg, the two henchmen she’d coerced into helping her. People who hated Tony Stark were in no short supply.

The van doors snapped open and the two men leaped out, one with a black bag at the ready, the other with a baseball bat. Mara stayed in the van and watched.

Stark jumped into action immediately, throwing a right hook at Greg’s face that caught him square on the jaw.

“Hey!” A young voice shouted, and Mara looked up to see a teenage boy only a few paces behind Stark. He, too, darted forward, his fists balled as if he was ready to fight.

“No, kid,” Stark gasped, trying to shake off Elliot’s grasp on his arms. Greg came back into the fray, his baseball bat prepped. “Look out,” Stark yelled, his voice strained as Greg swung at the unsuspecting teen, who was trying to pry Elliot off of Tony.

The kid managed to duck the first swing, whirling with wide eyes to see his attacker, but he wasn’t ready for Elliot to drop Stark like a sack of potatoes, grab the kid by the back of the shirt, and throw him into the side of van. He connected head first and slid to the ground, blinking dizzily.

“Mr. Stark,” the boy said, trying to stand up.

“Just bring the kid,” Mara snapped, very aware that someone might come around the corner any second.

Elliot grabbed the bat from Greg’s hand, swung, and connected. The kid went limp in the gutter.

“No!” Stark shouted, his voice hoarse. Greg took the opportunity to punch Tony in the temple, making him crumple to the pavement. The bag went over his head, the men collected their prizes, and they were back in the van, hurtling away from the scene.

Mara had bought the storage unit ten months ago. The company had since gone out of business, but she’d made copies of the key, came back regularly to make sure she could still access it. It was the perfect place for an execution.

She had Greg and Elliot set the two up in chairs facing each other, tightly bound with zipties. Then they all sat back and waited.

She didn’t know what to do about the kid. As far as she knew, he was just a passerby who’d recognized Iron Man and wanted to be his hero’s hero. Not necessarily a condemnation, but now that he was here, a witness to her crime, she couldn’t just let him go. It was a complication, and she spent the quiet minutes puzzling out what to do to fix it.

Stark started coming around first, squinting at the three of them in the bad fluorescent lighting, and cursing emphatically. Then he saw the teenager sitting across from him and his expression fell into something serious and angry.

The kid groaned only a couple seconds later and Mara watched as Stark’s attention immediately snapped toward him.

“Hey, kid. Kid.” The boy looked up, blinking blearily and seemed to struggle to locate Stark. Maybe Elliot had been a little more aggressive than she’d thought. When he did, they stared at each other for a long minute, as if having a silent conversation.

“You ok?” Stark finally asked.

“Um, I guess. What—what’s going on?”

“Just some people without any manners wanted a chat with me. But we’ll be on our way to lunch any minute, don’t worry, kid.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Mara purred. Stark glanced at her, sizing her up quickly, just like he’d done with Elliot and Greg. “Cute kid, Stark. Is he yours?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “No. Some new intern. Great first day on the job, huh, bud?”

The kid gave a nervous laugh, craning his head to look at Elliot in the shadows.

“N-not quite what I expected for an orientation, Mr. Stark.” The boy closed his eyes as if in pain and Mara wondered again how hard Elliot had hit him. Stark seemed to notice as well.

She stepped back, watching as Tony eyed the kid up and down. His lips were pursed, his eyes dark. Perhaps it was merely impersonal concern—he was a supposed hero, and protecting innocent children was in the job description, even if he was a failure most of the time. But there was something familiar in it, an ingrained worry that was routine, habitual. She was a parent, too, she knew what to look for.

Stark may say he’d only met the kid today, but he was nothing if not a liar. She knew better than to believe him.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. This wasn’t a complication, it was an opportunity.

Mara smirked, and sauntered towards the kid.

“Well, look at you,” she purred, reaching out and caressing the boy’s face before tilting his jaw up. Stark watched, emotionless.

The boy looked up at her, brown puppy dog eyes on full display. She could feel his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently.

The boy’s eyes darted toward Stark, then back. He shook his head minutely.

“No?” Mara asked, rounding the chair so she was behind the kid. She smiled at Stark, then grabbed a fistful of dark curls and yanked the boy’s head backward. A muscle in Stark’s jaw jumped. “How about now?”

“N—”

She cut the kid off. “Not asking you, sweetie. Tell me, Stark. What’s his name?”

Tony exhaled in a rush. “I don’t remember.”

Mara slapped the boy across the face. The smack echoed for a moment of shock before Stark strained against his bonds, a barely contained snarl of rage turning his mouth for a heartbeat before he schooled himself.

“Don’t make me hit him again,” she warned softly. “Just tell me his name.”

“I barely even know him,” Tony snapped, rolling his eyes.

Mara ground her teeth, quickly losing her patience. As if she couldn’t tell, as if the love Stark had for this boy wasn’t written in every line on his face.

The kid glared at her as she turned to him, sighing heavily. She backhanded him and his head snapped to the side, a red mark already forming on his pale face. When he turned back to her, his eyes were burning with anger. She stared back for a moment, memorizing the color of his irises. It was a pity he had to die; he really was a cute kid.

She turned back to Stark. “His name,” she said coolly.

“I don’t—”

“Stop lying!” Mara screamed, her hands clenched in fists at her side. She wanted to tear him apart, she wanted to see him bleed, but she knew his type. Physical pain meant nothing to him, to his pride. He would never break for his own sake. And now that the possibility has presented itself, she didn’t just want to see him dead. She wanted to see him broken.

She stepped forward until she towered over Stark, until she can lean forward and grab his face in her hand, her nails digging into his jaw.

“You think I can’t see the fear in your eyes, Stark? I’ve felt that fear. I’ve lived it. And it was your fault.”

She took a shuttering breath. Tony looked up at her, a terrible understanding in his eyes.

“And guess what,” she whispered, bending low and tightening her hold on him. “Losing him will be worse than you ever imagined.”

Tony thrashed against her hold, a snarl caught in his throat.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She stepped aside, just enough to let Stark see Elliot pulling a knife on the kid.

Tony stilled instantly, uncaring of the bruising grip Mara still had on his face. She yanked his face back around to her, but he still glanced back to the kid every second.

“Now tell me what his name is and I might make it quick,” she said.  

Stark’s glare was so icy, Mara nearly shivered. She covered it up by stepping away, back toward the kid. She cast a glance at Elliot and he lowered the knife to the boy’s throat.

“Well?”

Tony hesitated for another half-second, then his shoulders slumped. “Peter,” he finally murmured.

Peter watched Tony, waited until the man looked up, and gave him a reassuring smile that reflected, distorted, off the knife under his chin.

Tony just looked heartbroken.

Mara took a deep breath and forced the memory of her daughter’s smile from her mind.

“Peter,” she repeated, nodding. Peter looked up at her, defiant. She circled his chair slowly and he turned his head to keep her in his sight as much as possible.

“Do you want to know what my daughter’s name was, Peter?”

“Yes.”

“Eliza,” Mara sighed, closing her eyes as she savored the name. “My little ‘Liza. She was seven when she died.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it, and she regretted again that the only way to get through to Stark was to kill his kid.

“Do you know what happened to her?”

Peter shook his head.

“He happened.” She let all of the anger and hatred she’d felt in the last two and a half years come to the surface, let it burn behind her eyes as she turned to the man that had cost her everything.

“Do you remember August 9, 2015, Stark?”

Tony looked up at her, thinking for a moment.

“There was a break-in. At the tower,” Tony finally said. “We caught them before they could take anything. They shot their way out. Four injuries, two deaths.”

The way he rattled the information off like they were statistics, like those weren’t real people made Mara’s blood boil.

“Yes,” Mara snarled. “My daughter and I were in Midtown that day. Running errands. She wanted to see Avengers Tower, to see where her heroes lived. And then she got shot and in the panic someone knocked me over. By the time I got to her she was already gone.” Her voice broke.

Stark’s expression was pinched.

“I remember,” he whispered. “I offered to pay for the funeral and you refused.”

“I don’t want your money,” Mara yelled. “I needed your help! You were there and you didn’t help!”

“I was trying to stop them from hurting anyone else. I didn’t notice in time. I’m sorry.”

“Save your useless apology, Stark. It’s two and a half years too late.”    

“Then why am I here?” Tony asked, his voice resigned, like he knew that she wanted him dead. But she wanted more than that, too, and that hadn’t occurred to him yet.

“You are here,” she hissed, “to watch.”

His face fell, his eyes flicking to Peter. His heart started beating so hard she could see his pulse in his throat.

“No.”

Peter’s eyes went wide at the guttural denial that ripped out of Tony’s throat. He looked at Mara and she watched the comprehension dawn on his face as well.

“Oh,” he mouthed, his face very pale.

“No, please,” Stark begged, straining against his bonds. “Please, he has nothing to do with that, we hadn’t even met yet, he—”

“You love him,” Mara interrupted. “That’s all that matters.”

“Please, just kill me,” Tony whispered, looking up at her with a desperation on his face that she knew only too well.

“Oh, I’ll get to that,” she assured him. “You think I’m not going to kill the man that killed my baby girl? But first you have to feel it, Stark. The grief. The agony. You have to know what it feels like to watch your child bleed out in front of you.”

“Ma’am,” Peter said quietly. She turned to look at him. “I’m so sorry about your daughter. But... but that wasn’t Mr. Stark’s fault. He would never let anyone die if he could help them.”

“He’s a weapons developer,” Mara scoffed.

“He isn’t anymore,” Peter argued, shaking his head. “Besides, revenge won’t make you feel better. And it won’t bring Eliza back.”

Sighing, Mara leaned over him. She reached out to brush his bangs off his forehead, but he pulled away, looking affronted.

“My daughter deserves vengeance,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I do,” Peter insisted, looking up at her pleadingly. “My uncle was killed in front of me. And I had the chance to go after his killer, but I didn’t. You can choose not to, too. Right now. You haven’t hurt anyone yet.”

Mara shook her head. “It’s not the same. I am sorry he brought you into this.”

“You brought me into this,” Peter snapped, any forgiveness gone from his features. Mara hummed, then turned back to Tony, who’d watched the exchange in silent panic.

“I’m not a complete monster,” she told him. “Elliot is a very good shot. It will be painless for him.”

Tony made a choked noise, clenching his hands around the armrest of the chair. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“I’ll even give you what I never had, Stark. I’ll give you time to say goodbye.”

Mara nodded to Elliot and Greg where they were lurking in the corner and they each stepped forward to undo the bindings holding Peter and Stark in place. The second they were loose, they both instantly spilled forward onto their knees.

Peter crashed into Tony, tucking himself under Tony’s chin and clutching at his t-shirt. Tony responded in kind, putting a hand on the back of Peter’s head and holding him close, his hand threading carefully through the boy’s dark curls, avoiding where the bat had connected earlier.  

The safety of a gun clicking off made them both look up—Tony’s arms tightened protectively around Peter, his expression fierce as he saw the gun Elliot was now pointing at Peter’s head.

“Just in case you get any ideas of trying something,” Mara said simply. She knew better than to underestimate Tony Stark.

Tony glared at her for a second, then ducked his head, his attention focused solely on the child in his arms again.

“Peter,” she heard him murmur, his voice low. She listened closely as words poured out of him, quick and desperate. “Pete, I don’t know what to do, I don’t—I’ve got nothing, kid, I—”

Peter cut him off, but his voice was so low and muffled by Tony’s shoulder that Mara couldn’t hear. She watched Tony’s face as he buried his face in Peter’s hair, his expression pinched in a pain that she knew intimately. The pain of losing a child was something you never recovered from. Not that Stark would live long enough to realize that.

They continued talking for a moment, the words lost to Mara. Peter nodded almost frantically as Tony whispered to him, his hand still cradling Peter’s head.

“Time’s up, Stark,” she finally snapped, her chest aching with want as she thought about hugging her daughter.

“No. No, no,” Tony gasped, capturing Peter’s face in his hands as Elliot and Greg stepped forward. He pressed their foreheads together, crowding impossibly closer to the boy.

“It’ll be ok,” Peter whispered. He wrapped his hands around Tony’s wrists.

Mara’s heart beat faster, her blood racing hot through her veins. She was so close. At her word, Tony Stark would watch the child he loved die, just like she had. Her Liza had been feet from her as she took her last breath. She’d watched the light fade from her daughters eyes just as she’d watched those eyes open for the first time.

And Stark had been there, mere yards away, and had done nothing. And now she would stand and do nothing as his boy bled out in front of him, even if the loss of his life pained her. An eye for an eye, a child for a child. There was no other way.

Elliot seized Peter’s collar while Greg wrapped an arm around Stark’s throat, effectively holding him still.

“No!” Stark screamed, clawing at Greg. “Don’t touch him!”

Elliot dragged Peter a few feet away, kicking the boy’s legs out from under him when he tried to struggle to his feet.

“Hey!” Tony snarled as Peter growled, still fighting against Elliot’s hold. Elliot used the handle of the gun to hit the back of Peter’s head, making him collapse, crying out in pain. “Stop!”

“Elliot,” Mara said. The man dutifully wrangled the kid onto his knees, facing Stark. He held his gun to the back of Peter’s head.

Tony was practically hyperventilating. “Oh, go—Please,” he panted. “Please, no. Please just kill me. Please, please, I’m sorry.” Tears dripped down his cheeks as he watched, helpless.

Elliot pulled the hammer of the gun back, the click of it echoing oddly loudly in the concrete room.

“Tony,” Peter said. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the kid, agony written all over his features.

Against all of Mara’s expectations, Peter smiled, his eyes bright. His voice was steady when he spoke. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Peter,” Tony breathed. Elliot put his finger on the trigger.

And then Peter was moving, faster than Mara had ever seen anyone move. He threw himself backward, throwing one hand up and shoving the gun toward the ceiling in the same motion. The crack of it firing was deafening and Mara cried out as a chunk of concrete fell toward the floor from where the bullet hit.  

A heartbeat later, Tony was throwing Greg over his shoulder, twisting his arm behind his back until it was ready to snap.

Peter spun to his feet in a flash and threw a single punch at Elliot, catching him on the jaw. The man fell to the floor and didn’t move.

Mara backed up to the wall, heart pounding. She hadn’t realized... Stark hadn’t been in his suit, and he was older, but she’d taken precautions. She’d been so careful.  She’d known better than to underestimate him, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind that the kid, who was small and thin and fragile, could ever pose a threat to her plans.

Tony quickly frisked Greg, found his gun, and pistol-whipped him. He, too, went limp, instantly unconscious. Then he turned toward her, the gun still in his hand.

“Tony, you ok?” Peter panted, rolling Elliot over and checking his pulse.

“Will be in a minute, kid,” Tony said, his voice low. Peter looked up and watched him stalk forward, his eyes going wide.

“Tony.”

Tony raised the muzzle to directly between Mara’s eyes.

“You said you’d kill the person that killed your kid,” Tony hissed. “What makes you think I won’t do the same?”

Mara swallowed, her eyes flicking between the barrel of the gun and Stark’s face. His expression was totally blank, but his eyes were lit with a furious fire that sent shivers up her spine.

“I-I,” she stammered, unsure how to tell Stark that she had been relying on his grief to incapacitate him. She’d been assuming that he wouldn’t care about dying when his kid was a corpse in front of him.

And, if she’s honest with herself, she’d been relying on his sense of honor. She’d known that even with her planning and contingencies, there was no way she could guarantee she would succeed. The risk had been worth it, but if something had gone wrong, she had assumed that he would never willingly kill someone, that he would never hold a gun to someone’s head out of anger. She didn’t know how to say that despite thinking he was a villain, she’d expected him to act like a hero.

“You held a gun to a sixteen-year-old’s head and told yourself you were giving your daughter justice. But if you had succeeded, all you would have done was kill an innocent child.”

“And what about you?” she snapped back. “What are you doing right now?”

“You’re not a child,” Tony said coolly, his finger on the trigger. “And you’re certainly not innocent.”

Mara sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and prepared to see her daughter again.

“Mr. Stark.”

Her eyes snapped open to see not the cold barrel of a gun, but Peter’s back.

“Come on,” Peter said softly.

Mara risked leaning just far enough to see Tony’s face soften, his eyes lose their fire.

Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half-hearted, crooked smile. He quickly lowered the gun, showing Peter the side of it.

“Safety’s still on, kid.”

Peter’s shoulders loosened. “Oh.”

“Come here, Pete.” Tony bent and dropped the gun on the ground at his feet, then kicked it away, almost like a peace offering to Peter. As soon as the gun was a few feet away, Peter dove forward and was engulfed in a tight hug. Mara slid to the floor, legs numb from adrenaline.

“You did great, buddy,” Tony muttered, keeping an eye on Mara as he ran a hand over Peter’s back as if to check for injuries. “No extra points for the dramatic flair, though.”

“You’re one to talk,” Peter scoffed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you crying.”

Tony sniffed, squeezing the back of Peter’s neck as he pulled back. “Yeah, well. I’m never going to get the picture of you with a gun to your head out of my mind. Like I needed more nightmare fuel.”

Mara couldn’t see Peter’s face, but his voice was bashful. “Sorry.”

Tony pushed the bangs back from Peter’s forehead in a display of gentility she’d never expected him to possess.

She couldn’t stand it.

“No!” She screamed. They both jumped like they’d almost forgotten she was there. “No!” Tears burned in her eyes and spilled over. “You were supposed to die! You were supposed to understand what you did to me. My baby is gone. You needed to lose yours.”

Tony scowled down at her.  

“I didn’t kill your daughter,” he said. Then he glanced at Peter and his face softened. “But I understand wanting to do anything to bring justice for your child. I am sorry.”

Mara spat at him. Peter looked indignant, but Tony just sighed, pulling him away and using Elliot’s phone to call 911. Feeling as if she’d lost her Eliza all over again, Mara just curled in the corner and wept while they waited for the police to come and arrest her.

Peter and Tony watched her be put into the police car, her hands cuffed. As the car drove away, she saw Stark pull Peter into his side and kiss his temple, his eyes closed as he held the boy close.

She’d known from the second she’d seen them together that Peter was more than the intern Tony pretended he was. It was obvious in the way they looked at each other, protected each other. She’d seen, and others would too. Tony Stark might still get the punishment he deserved. Even if she wasn’t the one giving it.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Wide Awake - Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

@mandy23b​ @wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

There’s nothing like being consistently inconsistent!

Director Krennic + 2 & 94 - “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” / “I had a bad dream again.”   Requested by @alotofrandomfangirling​

Author’s Note: Oh my goodness sweetie, thank you for your patience with this! In fact thank you a B U N C H of you for your patience with this. I’ve certainly described this to enough of you!

Basically I usually give Krennic a ‘sassy’ reader, or he gets Lorena!  So I gave him a Timid!Reader as an experiment. Annnd I’m super excited to see what the results will be 👀👀👀👀👀👀

Wide Awake - Lacuna Coil Wide Awake - Katy Perry

Disclaimer: Rogue One has nothing to do with me / gif not mine /  song lyrics not mine Actually I thought this was funny. @alotofrandomfangirling​ is also responsible for Sugar, a 2 song fic. Wide Awake is no exception, it follows through on the same principle!  😁

Premise: You had always struggled in the Empire, through no fault of your own. Krennic deems your work useful though. Through his help, and your love, perhaps you can gain that much needed confidence boost...

Words: 3557

Warnings: Violence / Threats / TW Abuse

--- Yeah, I was in the dark I was falling hard How did I read the stars so wrong And now it's clear to me That everything you see Ain't always what it seems Yeah, I was dreaming for so long I wish I knew then What I know now Wouldn't dive in Wouldn't bow down Picked up every piece And landed on my feet Yeah, I am born again I don't have to pretend And it's too late The story's over now, the end Thunder rumbling Castles crumbling I am trying to hold on God knows that I tried Seeing the bright side But I'm not blind anymore I’m wide awake --- I haven't felt right Since the moment that I gave up I challenge my limits I'm feeling I'm becoming limitless I take it all in and inhale The struggle within Now I understand Freedom begins When you get out of the cage you built It looks like I'm crazy but I'm not the only one To believe in myself, believe in myself I won't be coming undone  'Cause I feel like I'm wide awake Open my eyes and the skies are blue All of a sudden I know that I treasure my life I find myself wide awake Like you... All of a sudden I know that I treasure my life, like you 

---    

He was growing used to being woken in the middle of the night. A little too used to it; even though it wasn’t for any good reason. Krennic sat up immediately at your quiet moans; “No, no..! No! Wait-! Please-! Stop-!” Sometimes you’d be near enough screaming it, sometimes you’d wake bolt upright in hot and cold sweats, and would battle with abnormal breathing. Tonight it was your tossing and turning that worried him. You struggled. You had ever since you’d been brought on board. You were timid and not really all that cut out for working for the Empire. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter, a victim of the circumstances of your planet; you weren’t ranked, you weren’t even particularly good at anything like engineering, or command, or any complicated algorithm that was being worked on here. Krennic knew two things – you made exquisitely good coffee, and you could draw. It took a little while for him to pick up on this. Judging by the array of marks that had covered your body at the time, a little too long. What happened was they had kept putting you in the wrong places. The Empire was trying to make you into one of them. What no one had realised yet was none of this would ever be your remit. The Empire wasn’t forgiving though, so when you sat at your desk and your concentration lapsed you drew, because that was what you liked doing… Those a little too drunk on their scrap of power decided they would take their frustrations out on you instead. Krennic had been witness to this more than once – the first few times, true enough, he’d thought much the same as everyone else and didn’t see why he’d need to waste his time trying to defend someone who couldn’t do their job properly. Now he only sat and wondered how he could ever have been so wrong. Because one time a folder had been sent up to him that contained technical drawings. He was an architect and yet these rivalled even his. Upon asking who had made them there was only one answer. You had. “Oh, you’ve finally found a place for her then?” “Well no. It was only a temporary assignment.” “She drew these and you made it temporary-!?” So Orson spend maybe half a day trying to locate you, and when he did it was the same as ever. Only this Commander was on the biggest power trip yet – that Krennic was privy to seeing - and this wasn’t about you sitting there drawing, but about you not doing your ‘job’ properly. Dragged from your desk by your hair and thrown onto the floor, the string of words was bad enough. Krennic didn’t need to see you receive a true beating over this – the way you raised your arms and shrunk away as if you were used to such a thing, Orson wasn’t sure if that irked him or pained him – reaching for his blaster before he could even really process what he was doing. Krennic only needed a hand on it, not even to draw, that was warning enough. “Let her go, Commander.” The grip on your arm only tightened, and you whimpered. “Don’t waste your ammunition, Director, this one isn’t worth it.” Krennic was a little more worried about the look on your face, his jaw tightened, “I said, let her go, commander.” “She needs to be taught her place.” “I’ll teach her in due time Commander, let her GO.” The man looked affronted, “You wouldn’t want her Director-” Krennic cut in with a snap, “What I want her for is my business. I won’t ask again.” Instead of just letting you go you were shoved violently towards him, whimpering again as you attempted to stand, then stumbled. Already shaking and on the verge of tears, Krennic didn’t want to deal with this here. He swept around you, looking to put distance between you and the man he was eyeing with disgust – even Krennic’s hand gently against your back made you jump. You certainly weren’t used to being touched soothingly here. “Come on. Let’s go.” His voice was low, and only heard by you – before he surged forward, not looking but only calling back. “Keep up!” You tried your best to do as he said, and only started crying when Krennic sat you down in his office. But he immediately softened, watching you sit there. You were in bad shape, through no real fault of your own. And yet you cursed yourself for sitting there and crying in front of a man that was probably about to call you pathetic. You were even more worried about what he might do to you – being a Director. He was about as high up as it got, and you’d heard a lot about Director Krennic before. He was about as unforgiving as they came, and had a temper. Heck you’d heard him shouting at subordinates from across the other side of the station. You weren’t sure you even wanted the chance to mess up anything of his. Instead he crouched beside you, and took your hands; “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” You still shied away from him, chewing your lip to try and stifle your crying. Completely disbelieving; how could he possibly guarantee such a thing? “They will. They always do.” “Not if I put you in a position I think you can do.” He gathered the folder from his desk, “Y/N… I want you to look at this.” Your eyes widened and finally met his – he knew your name?! How-!? You asked him such, with a stammer – and received a smile that made your heart dangerously leap. “This is your work, right? How can I forget the name of someone who draws like this?” You opened it, and he was right – technical drawings you’d been asked to do last week. About the only assignment you’d actually enjoyed.  You nodded, “Y-Yes… these are mine.” He rose, fingers under your chin to make you look at him – you instantly blushed, even harder as Krennic ran his thumb over your tear stained cheeks. “First and foremost, I’m an architect – so I know good structural drawings when I see them. Just so happens I have a lot of work… and I could use an assistant.” He very nearly smirked at the look on your face, eyes wide and lips parted, pretty blush dusting your cheeks. Shy, sweet and innocent. He chuckled, you would be just perfect. “Me?!” He nodded, “If you want it. I would be demanding of you – but I’m in need of someone that draws like you. I can’t promise you much, good pay, work you may enjoy… perhaps most useful to you is my protection. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore, Y/N. Not whilst you work for me. And if anyone does anything to you that you don’t like – you’ll come directly to me, is that understood?” You nodded obediently, swallowing thickly, “Y-Yes Sir.” “Sir?” The Director tipped his head and then really did smirk, which only made you blush harder, “Why, Y/N, you haven’t even accepted my offer.” “Oh-! Oh I---!” You looked away from his face, holding the folder close to your chest, foot tapping nervously to a beat that wasn’t there, you could feel your palms getting sweaty; “…I would very much like to work for you, Director.” “Good.” He sat on the edge of his desk, “Sir is a good start, you can address me as such, or Director. I’ll leave that to you. Now, you have no rank… so, how would you wish to be addressed by me?” You felt maybe your last name was going to give you horrible flashbacks to the hell you’d lived here so far, “Y/N… that’s- that’s fine.” “Y/N it is.” Krennic nodded, “I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” *** So you drew what he wanted you to, you accompanied him to meetings and carried his work, and occasionally – when Krennic looked like he needed it most – you brought him coffee. At first he’d been confused by this notion, because he hadn’t been expecting it. And you immediately looked startled, like you thought he might lash out at you for it. Krennic learned quickly which words, phrases and tones would trigger such a response from you – and tried to use these as little as possible. But soon having you as an assistant wasn’t enough, because he couldn’t help wanting you to stay. The reserved looks you would always give him, or the way you’d blush when Krennic complimented you, shying away whenever he got too close. His confidence in himself was everything you’d ever wanted to be and you fell for his charisma hard. He worked you hard sure – but he was also kind to you. Krennic treated you like a real person, not just a cog in the system (even if you weren’t a very gifted cog). And so, yes, eventually you couldn’t help but have a crush on him – yet for him to want you back? You’d never really thought it plausible. Until he almost literally spelled it out for you. (Mind you, there was nothing like being pushed up against a wall by your boss and being kissed in a way you’d never been kissed before. Then you got to call him by his first name.) All of this might have been in the past. But it was never really in the past.  When Orson’s head was turned in one direction you could still see the way everyone else looked at you with contempt, that made you swallow hard and step a little closer to him – sometimes you’d reach out and tangle your fingers in his cape, just to know he was there. Everything was fine when he was around because no one would dare touch you. But there were places Krennic went where he couldn’t take you, even if he desperately wished to. He never sent you off to other work stations, but he did occasionally ask you to run things for him, or send across documents – especially if he needed them. But you couldn’t help still be a little scared of what happened when he wasn’t around. People had many different words they liked to call you, and none of them good. The inference was that you were easy, too shy to say no, you’d let Krennic do whatever he wanted to you and wouldn’t put up a fight. Not a relationship, just a man using you because he could. And when Krennic wasn’t protecting something he ’possessed’, everyone else would take their own advantages. That led to Krennic coming back to you in various states of distress. Whether the abuse you received be verbal or physical – and sometimes you couldn’t sleep. Where he’d stay up with you and hold you and let you cry, or rant… whatever you needed to do. Krennic only ever requested one thing – even if you didn’t want to talk about it. There was just one thing you must tell him, as he pulled you close, touching your foreheads together and soothing you: “Who hurt you?” Orson made it his mission to dispatch these assholes pretty quick; either to crappy projects, front lines or… on the rare occasions that it was seriously bad, or he was in the mood, literally. Krennic wasn’t one for hidden blades, but he’d confronted a particularly nasty commander about the situation and been met with complete ignorance. As if Orson was supposed to believe you were lying. Krennic walked with him through some of the quieter corridors, and played it off as a misunderstanding – until they were so far away that Orson knew it’d take them a while to find the body. By then Krennic really would be none the wiser – and he was a good liar. Running that dagger through him had been the easiest thing, and Orson had spat his words with unadulterated venom: “NEVER touch her again… You so much as look at her…. And…” He brightened, on purpose, “OH! Wait!” As the man collapsed Krennic turned on his heel, tossing the blade down the nearest trash compactor, leaving him there to bleed out and die; one less moron on this project was a blessing in his eyes. But, as tonight, the PTSD of everything that you’d been through gave you terrible nightmares. And Krennic hated seeing you have to relive it all again; especially in your dreams – when here lying in bed with him should have been when you were at your very safest. He shook you awake gently, “Y/N…” You whimpered to his touch and a pang ran through his heart. One day he’d make sure they all paid for doing this to you, “Y/N!” Now Krennic was a little more urgent – you didn’t deserve this, not any more. You jumped as you woke, breathing hard and crying out. “Hey, hey! It’s okay! It’s okay!!” Krennic bundled you in his arms, cradling you against his chest he kissed your forehead, running his hands into your hair Orson hushed you, rocking you gently, “You’re safe… You’re here with me… You’re okay, we’re okay…” Orson’s voice was soothing against your skin as you buried your face in his chest, doing your best to hide your tears. If there was one thing you still hated, it was crying in front of him. Krennic knew this of course, but he certainly wasn’t about to mention it. Not even in teasing. This wasn’t the time for such things. He held you in quiet for a while, until you were calmed enough; “You want to talk about it?” “…I had a bad dream again…” He sighed, nodding, “I know, Y/N. I’m sorry.” “I don’t know why this keeps happening!” You nearly wailed – wondering what exactly you were doing wrong to have all this still stuck in your head now. He sighed, tucking your hair back, “It isn’t your fault, little one. It’s this place, it’s this project.” “No…” You lay your head against his beating heart, voice quiet; “It’s just me.” Krennic’s face knitted into a frown and he tilted his head until he could almost catch your eyes – you turned away from that – and he grabbed you; tipping your chin so that you had no other option but look into his eyes. “No.” His voice was stern, and you’d only ever seen him look like this when he was very angry, borderline upset. Like there was a storm raging behind those clear blue eyes. “No?” You voice was even quieter, if at all possible. You’d never been scared of him, yet right now you felt that you should be. “Don’t you dare, ever, blame yourself for what they do to you.” “If I wasn’t so-” useless… pathetic… “So, what? What are you? Y/N. They don’t know who you are. I know you. We have made it this far together, and we’re going to keep making it.” Orson took your hands in his, splaying your fingers, “You’re better than them. And you know you’re better than them. You owe them nothing. And I know you know who you are. I believe in you…” He pressed another kiss to your forehead, this one harder than before, “But I need you to believe in you.” You kept staring at him in silence, lips delicately parted. How could one man be saying so much to you when he was saying so little? You sat back, knees up and kept staring at him. For so long that he tipped his head, eyebrow raised and waiting for you to say something. Your hands were still in his – and you squeezed them tight, perhaps tighter than you’d realised. But it was like tough love, like Krennic saying what he’d told you - in the way he’d said it - could get through to you in a way that sweetness never could. The realisation that this man was too in love with you to ever let you talk yourself down, that Krennic could never let you give up on yourself. Finally you leant forward and kissed him, long and hard, hands in his hair, tangling your body with his. Krennic couldn’t help but smirk against your kiss. If that wasn’t all the proof that you’d really heard what he said. He pulled you back into the sheets; “That’s my girl…” *** Change came slow – but all together change came fast. A few days later you woke up to a brand new uniform. With a rank bar. A real rank bar. You knew it was him, but Orson wouldn’t hear a word of thanks from you and pretended like he had no idea where it’d come from. Only now instead of just addressing you by name, he addressed you by rank. And every time he did it sent a shot of confidence to your brain and a shiver down your spine. It might only have been the bottom rung, but it still put you on the ladder. Better yet, you still had him to fight for you and to help you through every step. He delegated you more responsibility, and now got to sit at his desk and watch you smile as you corresponded with all his architects and engineers. Krennic leant on his hand, and before he knew it hours would pass. The Director realised he was content to watch this all day. Eventually you would look up and catch his eyes, and your smile would become a beam – because no matter how absentmindedly, he was smiling too. And that smile was proud. The folder slammed down on his desk after that was just one of many. Your Director was moving projects, and it meant leaving this one in a hurry. It was what he wanted, and especially wanted for you. But it only made anxiety set in. All you could think was that he wouldn’t need you, was that he would drop you for something else. Perhaps that Orson would even drop you for someone else, now he was onto something new. A new girl for a new project. All these anxieties only made you dream things you couldn’t possibly tell him about, even when he held you so tight. But your lover knew; he knew you and the way that you worried. So, subtly, he’d place snippets from these folders on your desk. He’d ask what you thought of places he could base himself, or what you thought of some of the regulation. Then to really drive home the fact that he wanted you with him, he had you assist him with drawing out concepts. Where he’d get a little too close, running his hands over your shoulders and through your hair, and you could flash him a little smile and ask him about appropriate distances. You knew the thoughts in his head by the look he gave you, and the smirk on his face. You turned away quick, blushing and staring hard at the paper… but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe you’d want him to make that distance even less appropriate... He didn’t though, instead Orson rounded the table and leant across you; “You know we’re leaving soon, right? When are you gonna think about packing-!?” Your wide eyes raised to him slowly. Krennic had been putting things in boxes for weeks. This was the first time he’d mentioned you doing the same thing. Your eyes welled up. “Me?” “Yes. You.” “…You’re… taking me with you-!?” “Darling.” He sighed, eyes to the ceiling, “You’re my assistant, are you not?” “Y…Yes…” “More important than that,” He took your hands in his, parting your fingers, only to fit his own between the spaces, “you’re my partner…” This time you were crying, but these tears weren’t bad ones, so yes, you’d let him see them. Krennic cleared his throat, brushing your tears away; “Y-Y/N! Please don’t cry over the plans---!” *** This project was different. Remarkably different. You didn’t have a past here, you didn’t have to worry about your past here. It was a clean slate and this time when you dreamed, you dreamed good things. You dreamed of him… Of the future you hoped you would get to have. The people respected you here, and not just because you were his assistant, but because you really were exceptional at the one skill you supposed you had. You were taking a short break together this week. But nothing about this project felt like a chore… and you could enjoy working as much as you could enjoy being in love. You took a deep breath, watching the world go by with him by your side, fingers laced together – and allowed yourself to smile. And then laugh; a gentle, carefree laugh. You had to treasure this, what you had, who you were, and him – while you were given the opportunity to do just that. Krennic held your hand a little tighter in his at the sound of your musical laughter; you were still timid – but you were working hard at it every day. And you were free now, which to him mattered the most. Yes, Krennic would always support you, but perhaps now, you were ready to stand on your own.

---

11/16-! Oh man, I can see that finish line--! 

Thank you so much for reading and requesting! 💙💕😘