#She’s very impatient cause she does things at like… record speed

[cheezyharu]

“If you ever wanted to practice with an upperclassman, I’d suggest going to Alis, the president of the art club. She’s an extremely skilled rapier-wielding swordswoman and gives out really good advice to others… Well, she came from a family of world-renowned Illuminaires and all, she probably trained a lot even in her free time.”

trying to pull a Genshin/Honkai style splash art as a test, I think this looks good? Idk, I feel like I could add more than just this

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.5 (NSFW!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

'Cassandra's favorite', the other maids call you.

You can't tell if they mean it as a good or a bad thing. Hell, you can't even tell which of the two it really is.

Being her 'favorite' does not make you immune to harm in any way; bruises litter your shoulders and sides from when she grabs you too forcefully and cuts from her nails sting at your neck and stomach, renewed each time she comes to take a kiss.

None of that existed back when you were something of zero interest to her. On the other hand, she's told you several times you're 'a thing of beauty' --her thing of beauty-- and she won't let anything ruin a natural piece of art.

If you know anything about Cassandra, it is that she takes art very seriously. Your interpretation of the word greatly varies from hers, you're sure, but it doesn't change the fact she won't easily raise a sickle on you.

Cassandra won't break you. She won't let Daniela do so, either. Bela doesn't even care to hurt you. It means you're safe for now...

Unless Lady Dimitrescu decides you're best taken away from her daughter. Permanently. You don't dare meet her eyes, but you can feel them on you, scrutinizing, every night at dinner.

You're pretty sure she knows.

The thought sits heavy in your mind while you're cleaning bloodied steps off a corridor at three in the small hours of the morning, along with another maid. Adella is a quiet and hardworking one; the two of you make a good team and you know you'll be done in record time.

But it only takes a single moment for everything to go wrong.

Adella is hastily walking back to you with a bucket of fresh water in hand when you hear a different set of steps approach from the side. You make to warn her, but it's already too late.

The collision happens at the turn where the two passageways meet. As soon as you see black robes dripping wet you pray to whichever God will listen for mercy.

Because Cassandra has not been in a good mood all night and she is not the understanding type regardless.

Adella gasps and shakingly backs away, a waterfall of apologies spilling from her lips. Cassandra rolls her neck and draws her sickle, advancing on her slowly. She looks terrifying.

"Don't move now." she orders.

And you just- can't watch this. You don't know why, but the realization you cannot hits you like a speeding truck. You can't stand there while the the woman you frequently kiss cuts away at a girl you know is as good and compassionate as a human under your circumstances can possibly get.

You react.

Before you can even think how impossibly stupid you're being, you drop the mop in your hands and dash forward, crashing into Cassandra's form. Your right arm wraps around her waist and your left grips at her wrist like a vice. Your heart is pounding. You don't even know what you're saying;

"Cassandra, no! Please. Don't." Cold and rigid as she is, it may as well be a statue you're holding. "Cassandra, stop. Please." Once impulse dies down, you realize you've just signed your death wish for two seconds of playing hero.

And you thought you were smarter than that. Ha. But maybe, just maybe, part of you wants to die, so long as it's quick and painless.

With Cassandra, though, you doubt it. Especially with how lethal she sounds when she says:

"You. Disappear." You hear, rather than see, Adella scurrying off for her life. "As for you..."

You only register a blur, nausea, cold nails piercing at your neck, over already existing marks. You are shoved into the nearest wall so powerfully you can't breathe for all of ten seconds. It's a wonder you don't hear any cracks from within your body.

Cassandra is on you, her fingers harsh on your chin and breath chilly on your lips. "Good pets don't bark against their own masters. What made you so bold, hm?"

You don't answer, too busy summoning your mental strength for what comes next. The way her eyes and the lines of her pretty face have hardened, she looks nothing like the flirty girl who comes to steal kisses from you at random times during the night.

"Maybe I've been too nice to you. The first time you call my name and it's for some other maid?"

She looks like she wants to let out a bitter laugh, break something and slice you into stripes simultaneously. And then you realize; Cassandra is jealous.

It doesn't get any worse than that.

"Maybe I should make sure you never say anything again." The corner of her lips curls up in dark amusement as she talks. "You don't talk much, anyway."

Well. She did say she wouldn't let anyone ruin your looks. Never promised anything about what's on the inside.

You're shaking, even if her grasp doesn't leave much room to do so. Your brain is restlessly trying to come up with something to get you out of this mess-

"I'm of way more use to you with my tongue intact." you somehow manage to speak without stuttering. It makes you wonder where the hell this confidence came from.

Cassandra stills for a moment. Her grip eases the slightest amount, probably from surprise.

You wonder what the hell you're even doing, yourself, when you bring your hands to her sides and lean in, to the curve of her nice jawline. You've never kissed her neck before, but you remember from the times you've given her a massage that she's very sensitive around it.

Cautiously, you press your mouth to the soft spot under her ear.

She smells so good and her skin feels so smooth you're not exactly forcing yourself to kiss her. If you're going to be mutilated anyway, the part of you that must be severely messed up muses, you may as well take some pleasure for yourself beforehand. Who knows, it may change her mind along the way.

So you lick her there and suck over her faint pulse. You don't get any stimuli from her, at first.

Until her hand trails from your shoulder to your nape, urging you harder against her. It's the green light to keep going.

You put all your skill into it as you lavish her neck and collarbones with open-mouthed kisses. She's loose and moaning low in her throat now.

You can't tell why, but the sound echoes right though your adrenaline-induced system, tickles down your spinal cord to pool low in your stomach. You either had a kink for danger you never knew of, or you developed one in the castle.

Whatever the case, your fingers are working on the buttons of her outfit and she doesn't seem like stopping you has even crossed her mind.

When the robes barely hang onto her shoulders, Cassandra maneuvers you to the closest room, shuts the door and presses you against it. Hard. Your lips slide together hungrily. You taste wine on her tongue.

At this point, your hands are the only thing supporting her outfit on her. She looks too fucking sexy for words like this, half-undressed, lipstick smeared, so turned on and ready for you. But you also want to see more of her, so you let the black fabric drop.

She's getting impatient, though. Being more vocal, tugging your hand to the apex of her legs.

"Cassandra." you moan when you push the midnight lace of her panties aside and touch her. She's so wet.

Her mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, brows drawn softly. "Oh, you're lucky I like my name on your lips." she says, breathless.

You did start this trying to prove to her how useful your tongue can be attached to your body, however... so it's only fair that's how you finish it.

Finish her.

Cassandra looks dazed and confused when you kneel in front of her, but it's quickly replaced with a broken moan when you take her into your mouth. You revel in every single gasp you coax out of her, every minuscule shake of her perfect thighs.

She bites into her own hand when she reaches her peak, nails leaving four parallel marks on the wall.

You're gentlewomanly enough to pull her outfit up for her while she's coming down from her high. Your gaze takes its sweet time admiring the contours of her chest as you button it closed. She really is the most attractive girl you've ever seen, if you somehow don't take into consideration her body count.

"Good?" you ask when she opens her pretty eyes to look at you.

"It's not cute to be smug, plaything." Cassandra makes a soft grimace at you, though you can see the lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lip. "But. I suppose your tongue has its uses to me, after all."

You gently push off the door to let her exit at her leisure. The movement makes you realize you won't really be able to move tomorrow, with how sore you already are.

To your surprise, Cassandra takes a moment longer in the room.

She turns back to you and raises her hands to your torso, then carefully adjusts your wrinkled shirt. Her long fingers smooth over the imperfections she caused...

And you don't know why after everything the two of you just did, it's this that feels the most intimate.

The same digits brush over your throat as she pulls away.

By the time your mind starts working right again, Cassandra is already gone. Absently, you trace over the weeping scratches on your neck.

-

-

Later, at the main hall of the castle...

"Oh, boo, look who's late again." Daniela rolls her eyes at Cassandra's fashionably delayed arrival.

"Surprise, surprise." Bela smirks, casually leaned against the side of the fireplace.

"Are you two done being insufferable or should I come by later?" Cassandra asks.

"And scar our ears and minds with another round of your 'oh's and 'ah's, sister? I think not." Daniela comments.

Bela raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Had a nice time?"

"You two have very active imaginations, you know? Tells a lot about you." Cassandra chuckles. "She was just giving me a massage. But do go on. Be thirsty. I can wait."

Daniela and Bela share a look, thrown off their game by the nonchalance.

Cassandra hides a smirk under her hood and steps out first, into the peerless dark.

[fastandfrictionless]

Did you miss me?

BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver

FACECLAIM: Aaron Taylor-Johnson

AFFILIATIONS: Nomads/Avengers

AGE: 25

SPECIES: Metahuman

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? Public

DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES?  Yes, but would prefer to spend time away from there wherever possible so lends a hand as an Aid Worker, naturally being able to deliver resources and construct things extremely quickly.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

Protective: Growing up without parents instilled a duty of care in a young Pietro, constantly prioritising his sister’s needs over his own. As they grew, Wanda was more than capable of taking care of herself, but Pietro would still go to the ends of the Earth to make sure she was okay.

Ethical: Pietro has a strong moral compass, passionately fighting for what he believes is right. Despite his views historically being skewed by extremism, he has always stood up for those suffering unjustly.

Funny: Pietro’s wit is just as quick as the rest of his body: he has a wicked sense of humour, developing in part as a coping mechanism for the many terrible situations he has found himself in from a very young age.

Impatient: Pietro doesn’t like to slow down and certainly doesn’t like waiting. If he decides something or someone is taking too long (and it doesn’t take him very long to come to that decision), then it’s not worth his time.

Short-tempered: Growing up holding a lot of anger and resentment inside caused Pietro to develop a short fuse: it doesn’t take much for Pietro to blow up and it’s not pretty.

Cocky: Never one to be shy, getting superpowers didn’t make Pietro any more modest. He knows his worth and what he can do, which isn’t a bad thing, but he’s happy when everyone else knows it too.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: As his name suggests, Quicksilver is all about Super Speed, which also results in: -Extreme force generation -Increased reaction time -Increased metabolism -Increased thermal homeostasis (able to withstand the effects of friction and temperature)

WEAKNESSES: Wanda A slippery patch of ice Bullets (too soon?)

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?

Wanda brought Pietro back to Sokovia and nothing makes him want to leave. This is his place of birth (and death), and the home of what little family he has left.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?

No. Two things Pietro cares very little for: people in positions of authority and people who try to tell him what to do. 

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

-Pietro’s mind is always going full-speed ahead, which can be beneficial in dangerous situations, but it makes relaxing very difficult. As a result, he suffers from insomnia, which also makes his mood rather irritable. 

-As a kid, Pietro was always a fast-learner. He picked up English early on from watching cartoons, and this talent only got better after his superspeed developed. However, as stated earlier, Pietro can be very impatient. If he doesn’t pick something up within the first few attempts, be it a musical instrument or set of rules, he gets frustrated and gives up, believing it to be a waste of time.

-Robbed of a ‘normal’ childhood and having to grow up at a very young age, Pietro lacks a bit of maturity. His arrogance and desire to be right all the time is his inner child manifesting itself as it never had the chance to fully develop and leave him.

-Pietro is very competitive, even with himself. Constantly trying to break his own records, he once put himself in a very perilous situation in the early days of getting his powers by tripping on a railway sleeper while attempting to outrun a high-speed train from Stara Pazova to Novi Grad.

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS:

Clint Barton: The one Avenger other than his sister that Pietro was closest too before it all turned dark. Would be nice for them to reconnect and for Piet to learn of his legacy.

Vision: Any older brother (even if it’s just 12 minutes older) would feel wary of any man or android growing close to his sister. If Pietro learns of any romantic feelings developing he would want to make sure Vision’s intentions are pure.

Any other speedsters ie. the Flash: A bit of healthy competition!

And everyone else!!!!

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: As Pietro learns and gets accustomed to the fact that he had literally died, it could lead to a different outlook on life; the knowledge and experience that time is limited would encourage him to form stronger bonds with those he’s close to and have even less patience for those he’s not.

CHARACTER BIO —

The Maximoffs were good kids by nature, unfortunately nurture had other ideas. Witnessing the death of their parents in front of their very eyes and the childrens’ subsequent upbringing on the streets of a tumultuous, war-stricken nation naturally led to some bad choices. Starting out as freedom fighters, protesting against America’s violence and oppression of their country with violence of their own, the twins were eventually led to HYDRA, a sinister organisation whose experiments with the mysterious Mind Stone blessed- or cursed- the young adults with superhuman abilities. Pietro could now move at speeds faster than the eye could see, but he and Wanda were still no match for the so-called enemies, the Avengers.

Then along came Ultron. An indestructible artificial-intelligence created by Stark and Banner, he seemed to provide all the solutions to Sokovia’s problems. It wasn’t until Wanda discovered Ultron’s true intentions that the twins eventually stopped and noticed the discord and destruction they had left in their wake. It was a wake-up call: time to stop being weapons. Time to make our own choices and be who we want to be. Pietro had never been entirely sure who he wanted to be, but he knew what he wanted to do and that was to make a difference. This was his chance. He knew the consequences, but Pietro was young and fast- he felt immortal. He never expected his choice to fight with the Avengers instead of against them would be fatal. Without thinking, Pietro Maximoff sacrificed his own life to save the lives of Hawkeye and a Sokovian boy, perhaps seeing the potential the young child had of living a life he himself never could. As the darkness closed in, the final act of a life full of anger and violence was one of kindness.

And then, after several long years, Pietro opened his eyes. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

[ruddcatha]

Final Frontier

This story is purely the fault of my husband.  We are both very big geeks, and one day decided to start casting Inuyasha Characters as Star Fleet personnel.  This story was then born.  

on Ao3: Here

on FFN: Here

I do not own Inuyasha or Star Trek, and I know its an odd paring, but I hope you enjoy it.

Tags for those who have expressed an interest or helped me in writing this: @willowandfog​ @smmahamazing​ @disgruntledbeast​ @superpixie42​ @lemonlushff​ @fantastiqueparfait​ @clearwillow​ @underwater0phelia​

If you would like to be added to the tags please let me know.

CHAPTER 1: USS NOBUNAGA

A tall brown-haired woman stalked through the corridors of the ship, her dark brown eyes flashing. Ensigns and officers alike quickly moved aside, none wanting to further anger the First Officer or have her attention focused on them.  Sango noted the crew, but her focus was on reaching one place.

The door to the bridge slid open, and she quickly moved in front of the doors to the ready room. She pressed the intercom and straightened her uniform while she waited for the soft answer granting her entry.  She flicked a small white speck off the red shoulders of her command uniform and entered the Captain’s presence.

Sitting behind his desk looking out among the stars she saw her Captain, Sesshomaru.  His long silvery white hair was tied back in low ponytail, showing his pointed ears.  At first glance some would think he was Vulcan until they saw his dark amber eyes that shone almost like ice.

Sesshomaru turned in his chair to face the first officer.

“How can I help you Sango?” he asked coolly, raising a silver eyebrow at her.

Sango almost vibrated with annoyance, but she kept her voice even “Permission to speak freely, Sir.” She waited until she received his nod before continuing.

“Do you really think it is wise to have your brother serve here with you on the bridge crew?  There were other candidates with … better… service records who will feel slightly slighted by his assignment.”

Sesshomaru titled his head, his eyes flashing briefly.  “Your concerns are well founded, but do not worry.  He is more than qualified for the position.  As to the reasons I asked for him to be part of this crew, I am not prepared to discuss them at this time.”

Sango knew that it was the final say on the matter, but she wanted to make one point clear.  “Even though he is your brother, you know it will be my duty to treat him like any other member of this crew.”

Sesshomaru nodded at her “I would expect nothing less, he should not get any special treatment because of his relation to me.”

Sango slightly frowned, she hesitated to ask, but given the … reputation… of the new officer, she needed the clarification.

“And if he steps out of line, Sir?”

Sesshomaru gave a small smile before turning back to look at the stars around them.  “As I said, he gets no special treatment.”

_________________________________

On a Starfleet base several light years away, another silver-haired man paced impatiently.  His light golden eyes seemed to burn as he stopped to look at the time displayed on the wall before swearing under his breath and returning to pacing.  

‘I really hate stations’ he thought, growling as his ears were bombarded with sounds from thousands of people talking and moving about.  At the top of his head, two silver dog ears twitched, trying to ease the pain from the cacophony around him.

“Inuyasha, relax.” A dark-haired man leaned against the wall, drinking a cup of coffee.  The blue shoulders of his uniform almost matched his eyes as he watched his friend continue pacing.  “They are not scheduled to dock until 16:00, we still have 20 minutes before they will arrive.”

Inuyasha turned with a huff, his silver hair flowing causing more than one woman on the station to sigh. His ears caught the sound, and his mouth flattened, normally he wouldn’t mind the attention, but he was too worked up and annoyed at the moment.

“Who the hell does he think he is Miroku?” he snarled to his friend.

“I would say, he thinks he’s your brother AND your new Captain.” Came the tired reply.  Miroku had been forced to have this conversation with Inuyasha several times once they had received their transfer papers.  

It wasn’t that Inuyasha didn’t want to work abord the USS-Nobunaga, he did.  It was the last Excelsior Class built in the fleet, designed for exploration and recognizance.  As a lieutenant, he had been a key part of the security team on the USS Nautilus, a Miranda class starship, for 6 years and had been told he was in line for a promotion to chief of security.  Then he received notice that he had been promoted to Lt. Commander, which had stunned him, and that he was being promoted to Chief of Security and Tactical Officer on the USS-Nobunaga, with his friend Miroku coming on as the new Science Officer.  Anyone who wanted to get anywhere in Starfleet knew that this was a plum opportunity.  

Then the other shoe dropped.

Sesshomaru was the Captain.

His fucking brother. That was what irritated Inuyasha, he was once again in his brother’s shadow.  Growing up he had always been one step behind Sesshomaru, he was good, but not quite good enough.  He had learned to hate that phrase.  Even at the academy he had pushed himself to the best of his abilities, but as a half inu half human, he always had fallen short of his brother, a full blooded Inu, in abilities and rankings.  Their race gave them increased speed and strength, but no matter how hard he tried, he had never been able to match or surpass Sesshomaru.  Hell, his brother was Captain of a starship, while he was just getting his third hollow pip on his collar.    

Granted, Sesshomaru was 7 years older than Inuyasha, and had graduated before Inuyasha, but once again, Sesshomaru had excelled and flew up the ranks. Inuyasha and Sesshomaru were the only two Inu’s to date who had completed the Starfleet training. Unfortunately, Sesshomaru went first. Going through the Academy, Inuyasha had dealt with several professors expressing disappointment that he wasn’t as quick as Sesshomaru, or that his test scores were not as high as Sesshomaru.  The only thing that the instructors commented on for Inuyasha for was his ability to make friends with his classmates, Sesshomaru had been a bit of a loner, Inuyasha was the one everyone wanted to know.  He remembered getting lectured at that if he would just stop trying to be friends and going out, he could be as good in class as his brother.

He was so fucking tired of being second to everyone but his mother.  He knew his father loved him, but Sesshomaru was the prodigy, the heir. He was just the spare, and he knew it.

Despite the promotion, and the opportunity it provided, Inuyasha had felt the need to protest just because it was Sesshomaru.  He wanted to distinguish himself for who he was, his own abilities, and not because he was riding the coattails of his brother.  

And then he was told that Sesshomaru had specifically requested him for the position.  His prior Captain told him at a farewell gathering that she thought she could push him over with a feather with how stunned he looked.  It took Inuyasha a few moments to process what he had been told.  It was one thing for a Captain to request a specific officer for their ship, it was another for that Captain to not only request the officer, but to also request a relative variance for the bridge crew.  

Now Inuyasha wanted to know what Sesshomaru was thinking.  He didn’t do anything without there being a purpose.  Something about their mission had Sesshomaru thinking he would need Inuyasha, it sure as hell wasn’t because of a desire to see his brother succeed.  

They had always had a strained relationship, Inuyasha after all was the half-brother, the son of their father, Touga Taisho and a human settler, Izayoi.  Touga’s first wife and Sesshomaru’s mother, Inukimmi, had been ill after giving birth to Sesshomaru, Izayoi had been hired as her in home nurse. A year after Inukimmi had died, Touga and Izayoi were married, and nine months later Inuyasha was born. Sesshomaru had resented Izayoi, and because of that, Inuyasha.  He would not explain his reasoning, but Inuyasha suspected it was because it felt like betrayal.  Inu’s, by nature, were fiercely loyal, and took one mate for life.  It was unheard of for an Inu to take a second wife, yet their father had.  Many saw it as a shame upon the family, but their father had been powerful enough in the global government that the whispers were kept away from him, but Inuyasha had heard them all.  And Sesshomaru never missed an opportunity to remind him that he was an anomaly, something to be pitied.

That was why he was desperate to prove himself on his own, to show that he was a worthy son of Touga and Izayoi, so he could return home as a celebrated officer and finally feel that he had made his parents proud.  To feel like he wasn’t just a mistake.

It burned him that Sesshomaru could take that away.  Yet he knew he couldn’t reject the opportunity, or the position.  And so there he was, pacing impatiently, waiting for his new ship, his new crew, to dock.  He stalked over to Miroku, taking a spot along the wall next to his friend.

“Ok Miroku” Inuyasha sighed, needing a distraction.  “I know you have been doing research on this ship, who are we dealing with and what are we walking into?”

Miroku’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he pulled out his pad and opened his notes.

“Let me see… we are going to skip the Captain, I presume you don’t want information about your brother?” he teased, leaning over to nudge Inuyasha with his elbow.  A low growl was the response from the half-inu, which caused Miroku to chuckle.

“I didn’t think so, moving on then.   Commander Sango Tajiya, First Officer.  She is a 29-year-old human who excels in martial arts, battle tactics and one of the highest scores on her command test. She was Salutatorian of her graduating class and saw action in the Dominion War, in which she received her Starfleet Medal of Honor, she is also a recipient of the Preanteres Ribbon of Commendation.   She served for the last 4 years as Tactical on the USS-Hood where Sesshomaru was first officer, and he requested her as his first officer abord the USS-Nobunaga.  I do have to say, if our previous commanding officers had looked like her, I would have actually looked forward to being called to task and punished by her.  Sources tell me that she enjoys combat training sessions on the holodeck and has a pet neko that she has brought on all postings with her.  Her favorite color is pink, she’s around 5’6” with a very athletic build with legs for days.  She has waist length dark brown hair and what appear to be deep chocolate eyes.  She has a younger brother, who is NOT part of Starfleet, that she has weekly conversations with.”

Inuyasha grunted slightly, one ear flicking towards Miroku.

“Lt. Commander Kagome Higurashi, Operations Manager and third in the chain of command.  She is 27 years old, human.  She is seen as a prodigy in Engineering and Computer Science.  She was valedictorian of her class, recipient of the Cochrane Medal of Excellence for her theories of engineering which led to improvements of the warp drives. Note, do not mention this to her, she does not like being reminded that her engines are being tested, and per reports is embarrassed by the attention and press she received.  Miss Higurashi is on the smaller side, 5’2” according to official records, with long black hair and light brown eyes.  My sources have indicated that you and she have something in common, you both love ramen (lord only knows why), and she can often be found curled up in a library program in the Holodeck.  As far as my sources have been able to find, she has never been on a date or had any serious relationship, though many have tried.”

Inuyasha shook his head. “Are there any of the officers that you would like to tell me about that AREN’T pretty young women you want to talk into bearing your children?”

Miroku gave his friend a mock pout before continuing.  “Well, if your past history is any indication you will be spending quite a bit of time with her, we have Dr. Kaede Hiatsu, the Chief Medical Officer.  She has served on Starfleet for 45 years, and was a field doctor during the Dominion War, stationed near Deep Space Nine due to her ability to think on her feet, surgical skills, and calmness under pressure.”

Inuyasha growled “I wasn’t in that many fights Miroku… and I never started them, I just made sure to end them.”

“Yes, but Inuyasha, you won’t be able to punch first and ask questions later this time.  You will need to use that skill you keep forgetting to train, patience.”

“Feh.”

Miroku scrolled through his pad, looking for additional information to relay.

“Ahhh…. Navigation and Communication, Ensign Shippo Kit, a 22-year-old kitsune.  He has a talent for languages, during four years at the academy he taught himself… eight languages… holy hell.”

Inuyasha’s eyebrow lifted at that statement, his curiosity peaked.

“Let’s see, he can learn languages quickly, and thanks to his kitsune heritage he can change his appearance to blend with his background or the local residents, paired with his language skills this made him a highly sought after member of recognizance teams. His flight and navigations scores coming out of the Academy were high enough that he was immediately placed onto the USS-Nobunaga.  He is assigned to navigation, but also acts as a communications expert.”

Miroku scanned through his notes before his eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.

Inuyasha looked up at the time displayed on the wall.  There were still 10 minutes until the ship would dock.  If he knew Sesshomaru, he would be exactly on time, not late, not early.

It was going to be a long ten minutes.

_______________________

Sango watched the Starbase 423 come closer through the viewscreen on the bridge.  She nodded to Shippo, and the computer called the senior officers to the docking bay.  

“Ensign Kit, you are with me.” Sango said, motioning for his relief to assume the helm.  Shippo stood and followed her into the lift.

Sango’s eyes softened as she watched the man beside her.  He was tall with bright auburn hair pulled back and secured with a band, but his bright green eyes seemed nervous.  Shippo was new to the ship she knew, and she had not had much opportunity to get to know him.  Sango knew it was important to know all members of her bridge crew and to build the trust between the teams.  In the Dominion war, that trust had meant the difference between life and death.

“At ease Ensign, you don’t need to be nervous.” Sango kept her voice soft, hoping to help sooth Shippo’s nerves.  Shippo took a deep breath and nervously rubbed his hands down the sides of his uniform pants as he released it, then looked over to Sango.

“Sorry Commander.” He said quietly.  

“No need to apologize, you will get used to meeting new officers in time.”

“Oh no no no, it’s not that, its….” Shippo paused, not sure if he wanted to continue but knew that he needed to be honest with his commanding officer.  “In the Academy we heard so much about the Inu brothers. Everyone wanted to match Sesshomaru in skill, he became the ideal to strive to be, but Inuyasha was the one everyone had stories about, so he kinda became a legend if you know what I mean.”

Sango’s eyes went cold “Yes, I’ve heard of some of his… antics.”

Sango knew her Captain had his reasons for bringing his brother on board, she just had no idea what they were.  She was trying to get this crew into shape, the Dominion War may have ended, but that did not mean they could rest on their laurels and get out of practice, and then Sesshomaru decided to bring in Inuyasha.  

She had reviewed his service records carefully after she received the notice to analyze this new unknown entity on her ship.  She knew he was transferring in with their new science officer, but Inuyasha was the one that worried her.  He didn’t have a troubling record per se, but there were enough scuffles and incidents that were noted that didn’t quite meet the level of reprimand that had her concerned. His prior commanding officers described him as ruthlessly efficient with a gruff attitude… and almost no patience. He had shown to have an innate understanding of battle tactics during the Dominion War, the Captain of the Nautilus had brought him in for battle planning, and his plans and tactical maneuvers were a large part of why the Nautilus had succeeded and survived the Dominion War.

There was nothing she could really point to in his record to show why she was uneasy about him joining the ship.  He was reported to be an excellent officer if you did not set off his temper.  What bothered her the most though was it seemed he had his own personal code of right and wrong, just as she did. Inuyasha had been in a few fights with suspects and on away missions, and the reports carefully never mentioned who had started the fights, just who had ended them, which was not typically Starfleet protocol.  She would have to keep an eye on him, which is why she had needed to make it clear with her Captain what her boundaries were with their new Chief of Security and Tactical Officer.

The turbo lift opened, and Shippo and Sango made their way to the docking bay with the other senior officers.  Sango noticed that they had arrived before the Captain, and she quickly did a visual inspection of the team to ensure they all met regulation.  She chuckled to herself when she saw her friend and Operations Officer Kagome, whose long wavy black hair had partially escaped its confinement.  Sango caught Kagome’s attention and motioned to her hair, she saw her friend’s cheeks turn pink before Kagome quickly removed her hair tie and tried to tame her hair in a low ponytail.  Sango heard the swish of the doors and came to attention as Sesshomaru walked into the bay. At exactly 16:00, the Nobunaga docked with the Space Station, and Inuyasha and Miroku were officially ushered on board.  

Inuyasha entered first, his eyes scanning the room before landing on his brother.  Golden eyes met dark amber, and Inuyasha straightened his spine before marching to stand in front of Sesshomaru.  

“Lt. Commander Inuyasha Taisho, reporting for duty Sir.”

“Lt. Miroku Hoshi, reporting for duty Sir.”

Sesshomaru looked at the pair before him, his eyes lingering on his brother. “Welcome aboard.  I leave you in the competent hands of my First Officer.”  With a slight nod that could almost be a welcome, Sesshomaru turned and left the docking bay.

Inuyasha let out his breath, partially irked at the cold welcome, but also relieved that he had not had to endure one of Sesshomaru’s scathing welcomes that he had dealt with at home.  

“Puppy ears.  No one said anything about puppy ears.” He heard a woman whisper from the group standing beside him.  One ear turned towards the sound, and the speaker let out a soft “eep” as she realized that he had heard her.  

“KAGOME” he heard hissed back quietly.  Pulling up the information from Miroku about the Operations Officer, he turned to face the group.  He was able to identify most of the group from the descriptions (Miroku forgot to mention that Kaede only had one eye) and the red-haired young man had to be Shippo.

What he was not expecting was the punch in the gut when he saw Lt. Commander Higurashi for the first time. He had seen beautiful women before, hell he had been engaged to one at the end of his time at the Academy, but they had nothing on the petite beauty before him.  Her long black hair was barely tamed in a ponytail, and her brown eyes reminded him of melted chocolate.  He watched as her cheeks tinged pink and she shyly pulled her gaze away from him.  

The woman next to her walked forward towards them, the red shoulders of her uniform designating her in a Command position, the three full pips identifying her as the First Officer.

“Commander Tajiya, I look forward to working with you.” Inuyasha calmly stated, extending a hand to his new commanding officer.  

“Likewise, Lt. Commander Taisho.” Was the response.

Sango turned to her new science officer, who was staring at her with a dazed expression on his face.

“Lieutenant?” Sango questioned, catching his attention.

Without thinking, Miroku stared at her in awe “holy hell Yash” he whispered, “she’s gorgeous.”

Inuyasha elbowed his friend in the side, shaking him out of his daze.  Miroku’s face turned bright red as he realized what he had just said.

“umm, I apologize Commander, I… I uh…. Ilookforwardtoworkingwithoupleaseforgiveme.”

Sango eyed the two of them, she thought Inuyasha was the one she was going to have trouble with, but it seemed that her new Science Officer would be the bigger headache.  “Thank you both, and welcome to the Nobunaga.  We will meet in the briefing room at 16:20. Until then, dismissed.”

At Sango’s command, Shippo made a beeline for Inuyasha, peppering him with questions about stories from the Academy, wanting confirmation on which were true, and which were embellished, then asking about his experience in the Dominion war.  The Kitsune’s excitement was evident to everyone around him, he wasn’t giving Inuyasha the chance to answer a question before asking the next one.

Kagome found herself rooted in place watching Shippo and Inuyasha, thankful that Shippo was distracting Inuyasha.  She was slightly embarrassed that he had heard her before, but come on, he had puppy ears! Somehow that had been left out of his Starfleet records that she had gone over with Sango.  She had felt… not quite nerves… when their eyes had met briefly.  He was Hot.  Like seriously HOT.  It was strange, he looked so much like the Captain, yet she had never once (ok maybe once) thought that about the Captain, but there was something about Inuyasha that made him seem more approachable.  Kagome felt her cheeks heat up again, and she chastised herself for her thoughts. Even if he were approachable, she wouldn’t know how to go about it, she had few male friends (though Shippo was growing on her), and she had never had that reaction with any other man.  

She watched the two men locked in conversation (well, she wasn’t sure if it was conversation or interrogation as Shippo was still asking questions), admiring the picture they made, Inuyasha with his long silver hair in a low ponytail standing a few inches over Shippo with his unruly red hair tied back.  She felt herself shiver as Inuyasha’s eyes darted to her, she swore she saw his eyes go darker as he looked her over before one side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, the tip of a fang peeking out. And then he…

Winked at her.

At her.  At Kagome Higurashi.  Her face turned bright red and she scurried out of the dock.  She knew she would need a few moments to compose herself, at least that’s what she had always heard other say.  Now for the first time she knew what they meant.  The bridge was about to get… interesting. She just wished she knew him or his profile well enough to know if he was just teasing her, if he was a womanizer (She had heard of officers with a girl at every planet and port), or if he thought she was cute.  Her brain short circuited at the last thought, and she shook her head to clear it, embarrassed about her thoughts.  He was a fellow officer.  That was it. She wouldn’t know how to handle any more than that.

Inuyasha watched her escape, half listening to the young ensign who had introduced himself as Shippo, while his senses followed Kagome out of the bay.  As she passed, he caught the scent of vanilla and roses, everyday scents in perfume worn on the starships, but for some reason it had hit his senses like ambrosia.  He realized that he was still being hit with a million questions from the very enthusiastic kitsune, and he shifted his full attention back.  The smirk that had not left his face grew into a grin as he saw the excited green eyes that watched him with an expression that bordered on hero worship.

“Look Shippo, right? I believe Commander Tajiya needs me in a few minutes, I promise to answer all your questions as we work together.  I’m going to need someone to help me get familiar with the ship, wanna help me?”

Shippo’s jaw nearly dropped, the legend, THE INUYASHA was asking for his help, HIS HELP.  It was the single best day of his life; even greater than the day he was assigned to the Nobunaga.  

“Absolutely Sir!” he excitedly chirped, almost dancing with excitement.

Inuyasha chuckled before calling Miroku over.

“Great!  Look, when we aren’t on duty you can just call me Yash. This is one of my closest friends from the Academy, Miroku, Miroku this is Shippo.”

“And by closest friend he means his handler.” Miroku teased, reaching out to shake Shippo’s hand.

Inuyasha snorted at that “Like I need a fucking handler.”

Miroku lifted an eyebrow and donned a serious expression. “Inuyasha, that was the bargain for my transferring with you, I was instructed to KEEP HIM IN LINE and to KEEP THAT INU OUT OF TROUBLE.”

Inuyasha flat out laughed, almost choking “Dude, you are usually the one who gets me into trouble.”

Miroku thought about that for a second. “Sadly, it is true.” He admitted.

Shippo watched the two senior officers, his eyes growing wider and wider.   He had heard some of the pranks that the duo had played in the Academy, and now they were here, in his ship, working with him for the foreseeable future.  He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, he would be the envy of his classmates.  He could not WAIT to tell Shiori about this, she would kill for this opportunity.  

“Let me show you the way to the bridge and to the briefing room.” Shippo hated interrupting the back and forth, but he didn’t want their first day to go off track.  “Sango is a stickler for being on time, and besides” he said slyly, looking at Miroku “I would think you would want all the brownie points you could to get back in her good graces.”

Inuyasha and Miroku went silent, both turning to face Shippo.  Shippo immediately panicked, he was afraid that he had overstepped his bounds, but he just wanted so much to feel included and then he goes and does….

His frantic thoughts eased as Inuyasha smiled and Miroku’s head fell with a groan.  

“Kid” Inuyasha smirked “we are going to get along just fine.”

__________________________________________

At exactly 16:20 Inuyasha and Miroku made sure they were both seated in the briefing room, heeding Shippo’s advice.  Miroku was already deeply in conversation with Kaede regarding different herbs and plants that had been found on a recent botany expedition that had been found to have latent healing properties.  Miroku had been one of the scientists working on perfecting the extraction method, and Kaede had been sent some of the prototype salves to determine its practical application in the field.  She had sent back comments and feedback, and Miroku had asked for some further clarification and expansion on some of the reports.

Inuyasha eyes were darting around the room, taking in the layout, where the computers were located, how the table and chairs were situated near the panes of glass.  He wanted to familiarize himself with every room, especially where the senior officers and Captain would spend time, to prepare for any potential security concern.  He already wanted to speak with Kagome about getting a secondary com system set up just for the security team.  It would serve two purposes, the first to develop a communication system that would be reliable if the computer was compromised in security crises,  and the second to give him a chance to get to know Kagome outside of the bridge.  Every time his eyes went her direction, she would flush an adorable shade of pink and make sure that she was looking anywhere BUT at him.  He looked forward to exploring that later.

With a soft sound the doors opened, and Sango strode into the room, taking her place at the head of the table.  

“Ok everyone, I hope you have had the opportunity to meet our new officers.  As soon as our Chief of Engineering returns to the ship we will be departing.  The supplies have all been brought on board, and Jaken should be here within the half hour. We have been asked to escort a supply ship through contested space, the last three ships were all destroyed.”

Inuyasha sat forward “Do we know what type of ships and what weapons were used?”

Sango looked over at her Inuyasha with a grudging respect.  Those were the questions she had asked as well, and she silently reassessed her opinion of her new tactical officer.  “From what limited information was relayed during the attacks, the supply vessels were destroyed by what seemed to be photon torpedoes.  Given the limited data we have not been able to identify any specific energy signature that would allow us to identify who we are dealing with.”

Inuyasha began going through the list in his mind of which races equipped photon torpedoes, cross referencing with his own knowledge of the races in that sector of space.  Each potential opponent required a different tactic, and he wanted to be prepared just in ca…

“Bridge to Commander Tajiya” Shippo’s voice was heard from Sango’s communicator.

“Go ahead Ensign.”

“We have received confirmation that Jaken is on board, we are cleared to disembark.”

“Acknowledged.”

Sango looked at her senior officers and gave a small smile.  “Everyone, please report to your duty stations.  Lt. Commander Taisho and Lt. Hoshi, time to get a feel for the Nobunaga.”

[winchester-fantasies]

90 Days - Part Five: Light

90 Days Masterlist

Mini-Series Summary: You’ve been hit by a curse. Now you only have 90 days to live. Sam and Dean race to find a cure while secrets are revealed and feelings are discovered in the process.

Word Count: 2197

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, light angst, mentions of attempted suicide

Pairing: Sam x Female!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for coming with me on this journey! This whole series has been an emotional roller coaster and it ripped my heart out (no pun intended lol) more often than not. It’s bittersweet posting this last part, and I hope you like it as much as I do. ❤❤

Winchester Fantansies’ Masterlist

     “Sam!” you gasped. He sat up with a start, his eyes wide with panic.

     “Sam,” you said again, this time quiet and unbelieving. “How am I not dead?”

     He stared at you for a moment as if not really believing you were actually there. But in the next instant he seemed to come out of his trance. “I...I don’t know,” he stammered, swallowing hard. “I think maybe I should call Dean.”

     You nodded as Sam climbed out of bed, quickly pulling on his jeans and grabbing his cellphone from the table by the bed. He pulled up Dean’s contact and pressed the call button. He glanced over to you before quietly exiting the room. You could just make out his muffled voice as Dean answered and the soft opening and closing of the front door.

     You ran your fingers through your tangled hair and held you head in your hands. You didn’t understand what had happened. Just a few weeks before you’d nearly died just from kissing Sam. But somehow you were still alive after making love to him. You thought you understood this curse and everything it carried, but now you weren’t so sure.

     After what seemed like an eternity Sam finally returned. His face was unreadable as he took up his duffle, stuffing his clothes and the few necessities he’d brought into it. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he said.

     “What?” you asked.

     He stopped what he was doing to turn and look at you. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he repeated. “Dean hasn’t made any headway and was just as surprised as us when...uh...when I told him what happened or what...didn’t.” He looked to the ground for a moment as if embarrassed, your own cheeks flushing pink at his words.

     “He’s going to have both Cas and Rowena come to the bunker, too,” Sam said. 

     You nodded, throwing the blankets off and going over to your duffle sitting by the closet door. You set it on the edge of the bed before gathering the few things you’d taken out. You haphazardly stuffed your clothes into the bag, your mind racing. You finally had to stop, the knot in your stomach too tight to ignore.

     You turned towards Sam just as he zipped up his bag. “Sam,” you said so quietly your voice barely reached your own ears. Sam didn’t seem to hear you as he went over to the table and stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets.

     “Sam,” you said again, this time louder, your voice coming out choked. He stopped and turned to look at you, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

     “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft.

     “I’m scared,” you whispered. It was ironic. You’d lived with this curse looming over you, the constant fear of death a grim companion. And while you had been frightened, you knew how it ended if Sam and Dean didn’t find a cure. You’d made peace with it. But now that it was gone…. The fear was palpable.

     Sam’s eyes were soft as he walked around the bed, coming to stand in front of you. He drew you into his strong arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I am, too,” he admitted softly. “But I promise you,” he said, pulling back to meet your gaze. “As long as you’re with me, nothing is going to happen. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

     He leaned down, his lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. You melted into his embrace, letting his strength and words envelope you in security. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone when he pulled away. “I love you,” he breathed.

     You smiled, placing a soft kiss to his still bare chest. “I love you, too.”

**********

     You and Sam drove back to the bunker, Sam pushing the speed limit as far as he could. You reached the bunker in record time, only stopping for a few hours at a rest stop so Sam could get a little shut eye before hitting the road once more. You reached the bunker by nightfall the following day.

     You looked up at the giant stone fortress as you stepped out of the vehicle, a sense of calm falling over you. You’d never been so glad to be home as you were at that very moment. 

     You and Sam entered the bunker, the silence welcoming as you walked down the metal stairs to the main floor of the building. You set your duffle down on the map table before making your way to the library, finding Dean at one of the tables, books, manuscripts, and various other documents strewn across the table.

     He looked up from what he was reading on his laptop, his green eyes lighting up when he saw you. His grin was wide as he scooted back from the table, coming over to you and wrapping you in a warm hug. “I’m okay, Dean,” you said, hugging him back tightly. You were surprised to find his eyes were slightly misty once he pulled away, and you noticed dark circles sitting under them. Your danger had weighed heavier than you realized on him, and you knew he’d spent countless hours trying to find a way to save you. 

     “Glad you’re home,” he said simply before sniffing and going back to his place.

**********

     “Find anything?” Sam asked, sitting himself down beside you and handing you one of the beers he’d gone to the kitchen to retrieve. You smiled your thanks before turning back to Dean across from you.

     “Nope,” Dean said gruffly, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “But Rowena should be here soon. Says she might have found something.”

     Your stomach flipped at the thought of finally having some answers. As if sensing your nervous anxiousness, Sam reached under the table, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers together. He gave your hand a squeeze and sent you a soft smile of reassurance before turning his focus back on his brother.

     “Have you heard from Cas?” Sam asked.

     “Yeah,” Dean said. “Said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

     “Does he have any theories?” you finally spoke.

     Dean looked up at you as if just realizing you were there, like he’d forgotten you were okay. “Didn’t say so,” he said. “If Rowena doesn’t know maybe he can...read your mind or something. Ya know. Work his angel mojo.”

     You smiled softly. “Yeah, maybe so,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek thoughtfully.

     “Hey,” Sam murmured, squeezing your hand again. You looked over at him, his eyes soft. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you once more. “We’re going to figure this out.”

     “I know,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand in return. 

     Just then there was a knock at the bunker door. Dean went to answer it, returning with Rowena a few moments later. “Hello, dears,” she greeted with a smirk. 

     “Hey, Rowena,” Sam said, you sending her a tight-lipped smile.

     She set a large black bag on the library table before turning her gaze to you, her expression softening. “You poor dear,” she said sympathetically. 

     “So what’s your theory?” Sam asked impatiently.

     Rowena sent him a smile that barely masked her annoyance. “Patience, Samuel,” she said. “This is very ancient, very powerful magic. To rush any of it would be foolish.”

     Sam’s jaw clenched and his grip on your hand tightened, but he didn’t argue further. “Now,” she said, turning her attention back to you. “Tell me exactly what happened while you were at the cabin and what led you to believe the curse broke.”

     You proceeded to tell her everything that had happened, starting with Sam and Dean leaving, your attempted suicide, Sam’s kiss and your subsequent episode because of it, and ending with you and Sam making love and realizing you weren’t dead. Rowena stood staring at you thoughtfully once you’d finished recounting.

     “Very strange…” she murmured. “I would have thought….” She trailed off, shaking her head in confusion before opening the bag in front of her and digging through it.

     Your stomach clenched at her tone, and you leaned forward. “Would have thought what?” you asked nervously.

     “Oh, nothing,” Rowena said vaguely, brushing off your question.

     “No!” you snapped, causing her to jump and Sam to look at you with wide eyes. “Tell me!”

     “Very well,” she said with a thin-lipped smile. “It’s just…. Did either of you….”

     She was abruptly cut off by the sound of fluttering wings as Cas flew into the library. “Hello, Sam, Dean,” he said. “Rowena,” he greeted rigidly.

     “Castiel,” the witch said with a soft smile and tip of her head. 

     “(Y/N),” Cas said, coming over to you. You stood just as he pulled you into his strong arms. “I’m glad you’re okay. Dean told me everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

     “It’s alright, Cas,” you said, giving him a smile after you’d pulled away. “I’m just glad to be alive.” Cas frowned before he placed a palm over your brow, closing his eyes while a soft, white light illuminated your skin. 

     “The curse is indeed gone,” Cas said. “And...it broke...quite suddenly.”

     “But...what does that mean then?” you asked. “And...and how?”

     “As I was saying,” Rowena interjected. “Did either of you, at any point after your episode in the kitchen, profess...your love?”

     You and Sam locked gazes, silently questioning one another and going back over the events after that episode. “I...don’t think so,” Sam said slowly.

     “No, wait,” you said thoughtfully. All eyes were on you as you carefully contemplated what you were going to say next. “After the episode…. Sam, you told me you loved me and that you’d wait for as long as you needed, to be with me.”

     Sam’s eyes lit up in recognition and he nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “And then...uh, when...when we….” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Well, you know. You said you loved me, too.”

     You smiled softly at the memory, so heavy, but yet so full of emotion, even now that the curse was gone. “That’s right,” you said. You turned back to Rowena, looking at her expectantly.

     She was smiling as if she held a great secret. “It’s just as I thought,” she said. “You see there was a witch, one of the very first. Very powerful - even more powerful than me,” she chuckled. “Anyway, she loved a man, but when she professed her love, he rejected her.

     “Out of spite, she created this curse - a curse of love. If he could find someone he loved, and they reciprocated his love in the span of ninety days, then the curse would be broken. If not, then his heart would quite literally break. Well, he was a very brash and hateful man, and even his own mother didn’t love him. He was found three months later on the floor of his home, a hole in his chest, his heart lying beside him.”

     You swallowed hard at the thought that that could have been you if the curse hadn’t been broken. You were brought out of your thoughts as Rowena continued.

     “The curse was never used by other witches not only because it was lost to time, only a few copies remaining but also because it was unreadable. You see, the witch used her own language, only putting the phrases ‘ninety days’ and ‘life force ceasing’ in Latin. Which makes me believe that the witch you killed in the factory was none other than the witch herself.”

     Your eyes widened at the revelation, and Dean let out a low whistle. “Wow,” Sam breathed. “So...when (Y/N) and I professed our love….”

     “It broke the curse,” you said, finishing Sam’s sentence. 

     “Precisely,” Rowena said. “It’s really the perfect curse for hunters. Always so lovelorn and alone,” she said wistfully. “However, she didn’t count on the love of Sam Winchester.”

**********

     Later that night you laid in your bed with Sam, your bodies pressed together and your legs intertwined. “I can’t believe I’m actually still here,” you said in near disbelief as you lightly played with the hair on his bare chest.

     Sam took a deep breath as his grip on you tightened. “Neither can I, actually,” he said, brushing his fingers over your side, feather light. “But I’m glad you are.”

     “I am, too,” you said, turning your head and softly kissing his chest. “Thank you for everything,” you whispered. “You literally saved my life.”

     A low chuckle escaped him, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. “How could I not?” he asked, turning his head to look at you. “You are my heart after all.”

     You smiled, leaning up to place your lips gently against his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth. You felt him smile before he rolled you over, caging you in between his firm body and the mattress.

     “I love you, too,” he said, reverently brushing a strand of hair off your brow before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

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

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

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

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[missbugaboo]

That Other Guy (2)

“Why does it matter so much to you? What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival?” Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug’s dream guy is, but somehow, he’s not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

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Chapter 2: Just Let Me Fall Apart

What happened afterwards was really quite simple, amounting to no more than one word overall.

Run.

That was the word Ladybug kept hearing, from the moment she had turned away from Cat to when she was safely distanced from him not so many moments later. A little word that burned her mind with the obstinacy behind it, urging her to keep up her pace or speed it up if she could, daring her to break her own records before her feet had first left the ground.

Threatening her with all the consequences that would instantly fall on her in case she had not.

So she did. She ran as if there was no tomorrow, as if her very life depended on how fast she could flee. She ran away – from Cat, from herself, from the fears and anxiety that were sure to overcome her if she as much as considered making a stop.

And thus even though her own exhaustion was enough to slow her down from time to time, taking over her like a wave and successfully ruining her gait, it could never last long. Each of those times, Ladybug would slacken or lose her rhythm, only to pick up her pace again the next moment, going faster and faster after every such lapse.

There was no plan for it, there wasn’t a bigger strategy to follow. Only the simple knowledge that as long as she sprinted in the dark, she could keep her emotions at bay, if not by distracting herself, then at least by keeping her distance from what had caused them to resurface in the first place.

Frightened and confused as she might be, she was no more willing to let her fears swallow her than she usually was.

And yet, her stubbornness and strength could only get her this far. Focused on her internal struggle, she forgot to take her physical state into the equation; lost in her thoughts, she paid no mind to the passage of time or the length of the distance she had covered so far. Her suit gifted her with endurance; her powers gave her the confidence to trust in it blindly.

It wasn’t long before she was reminded that even the Ladybug miraculous had its limits.

And so she stumbled. Once, twice, a few more times afterwards. She ignored the fact each time, just as she ignored her own weariness or the tears that blurred her sight, determined not to give in to what to her was nothing but a misplaced turmoil of the heart. As if to punish her for her tenacity, her body wavered under her weight: she stumbled again, this time nearly losing her balance and meeting the ground face first. She regained it in the last possible moment… and then did what she had been doing for the bigger part of an hour.

She resumed her run.

Still, even this determined she could not prevent what was inevitably coming. For the last time, she faltered, and this time, her stumble turned out to be a real one; a great finale to this sorrowful, miserable act.

One moment she was moving her legs in a frenzied chase, jumping from one foot to the other almost frantically – the next found her on her knees as she rolled over in order to break that most unprofessional fall.

Really, it was only thanks to her luck that the roof she was traversing was a flat and broad one.

She came to a halt seconds later. Propped on her outstretched arms and panting heavily, she was able to fight neither her physical exhaustion nor the mental fatigue that had finally caught up to her; both of which seemed to strike at her with doubled force now, as if wanting to prove just how pointless her flight had been from the start.

As if she hadn’t already known that.

With the last ounce of strength, Ladybug raised her head and looked around, searching for a haven that could somehow shelter her in this most difficult of times. She did not wish for much; she knew she was nowhere near her home, as well as that no other place could shelter her in the way her own room would.

Besides, where else was she to go? Even if Alya had lived right under the roof she was currently kneeling on, it still wouldn’t have made a difference. She couldn’t talk to her about this – she couldn’t talk to anyone, really. Not to Alya, not to her own mother, not to any of her numerous, caring friends. It was between her and Cat Noir; and heavens knew she could not talk to him, either.

In the corner of her eye she spotted a chimney. It was wide and tall enough for her to hide behind it, or maybe even rest her back against it comfortably… and it was mere meters away from when she was now. In an instance she was up, walking over to the spot, slouched under the burdens of her worries and the gushes of the wind that had suddenly started to howl. She reached her destination seconds later and, proud of her little victory, she let out a long, wistful sigh.

And then she sunk down, with her back against the cold bricks and her legs pulled to her chest, as she pressed her face against her now trembling knees.

Forgetting all of her previous resolutions, she finally allowed herself to cry.

It was forty minutes and a few sets of tears later that Ladybug finally returned to her own home. Too weary to think of all proper precautions, she hoped that the quick look around from her balcony was enough this time. Of course, she knew she should have been more careful; and of course that the way she was acting could fairly be named irresponsible, not to mention that under normal circumstances she would have been the first to point all that out.

If only she could bring herself to care.

She opened the trapdoor that led to her bedroom and jumped down hastily, her transformation dropping before her feet could even touch the mattress below. She could feel Tikki appear next to her and fly up to her face not a second later, with a look of concern reflecting all over her minuscule face. To Marinette, that was hardly a surprise; she knew her mouse-bug well, and expected nothing less than the gentle show of affection her kwami was about to display.

It was just one more thing that made her love Tikki as much as she did – and yet, even that could be of no comfort to her right now.

“I need a shower,” Marinette announced quietly, though with a note of firmness ringing in her voice. “I’m gonna have one real quick, and then I’d like to go to bed as soon as possible, so… Oh my goodness, Tikki, don’t look at me like this.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it first?” Tikki protested, once again following her Chosen, as the latter rummaged through her drawers in search of pyjamas.

Marinette merely shook her head in response.

Tikki sighed deeply but didn’t give up on her quest. “Please, Marinette, I know it may be hard, but if you keep it bottled up like this, it will only grow until -”

“I’ll be fine,” the girl cut her off impatiently. “I’ve spent the past hour or more thinking about everything that had happened on that roof, crying my eyes out and feeling guilty for something that has never been my fault. I know it’s not over yet; I know I’ll have to go back and face it again and soon. And I guess I could talk to you about it now,” she paused for a second and took a deep breath before continuing, “But if I do, I’ll only fall apart again, when I have just managed to pull myself together. I think you understand how going through that particular breakdown is the last thing I want right now.”

“What if it’s what you need, though?”

“What I need above all now is sleep, Tikki. I understand why you’re worried… But there is nothing you or I can do about it now. I need a rested, well-functioning brain while at the moment mine is everything but. Not to mention, I still have school to attend in the morning, remember?”

She left the room with her words echoing after her and a small, reassuring smile tugging on her lips The expression changed as soon as the door closed behind her, the heartache once again replacing the fake pose taken up for her kwami’s sake. She didn’t feel fine at all, nor did she expect it to change in the nearest future.

All she wished for was a chance to curl up in her bed and give in to her sobbing in the same way she had done before; to shout out her frustration and anger into the soft pillows without worrying that it would undoubtedly wake up her parents if she did; to be free to crumble down once again and not to think of how Tikki would take it.

She did not want to talk about it.

She just wanted to cry.

And as she stepped into the shower tray and the steam and water engulfed her, she decided to do just that.

So, yes, Ladybug – Marinette – was a mess. All of the emotions she had faced since her talk to Cat Noir, all of the feelings that had come to her after she'd left seemed to add up to one another, combining in the way she never would have thought possible before. Grief and anger, disappointment and wounded pride, tiredness and impatience and ire – they had come to her one by one and stayed, blending into the poisonous mixture that left her wanting nothing but to forget it all; to fall asleep immediately and then wake up in a reality where none of it was true.

Or at least one in which she could think it wasn't.

And yet, as exhausted and hurt as she was, those feelings began to fade eventually. The shower that had only been meant to serve as an excuse had proven to be of real, substantial help. The hot water that at first was nothing but a camouflage to her tears had also washed away some of her physical weariness in the process, while the gentle sound of it tapping against the tray calmed down her nerves on the more spiritual level.

All in all, when she had finally left the bathroom and entered her own room once more, her equilibrium was at least partially restored. She still wanted to hide under her duvet and weep; still felt like any attempt at trying to talk her worries through with Tikki would end up with disaster; still couldn't comprehend why her companion and the best of human friends could have treated her so unjustly, accusing her of crimes she had never committed. There was also a new resolution taking form in her, however, and when she had climbed onto her bed at last, she was more than determined not to pay the situation any more attention at the time.

She flopped onto the mattress, covered herself entirely and, contrary to what she had expected, fell asleep before she could shed more than a few tears.

If only she knew how far from such blissfulness was the boy who had unleashed the turmoil for them both.

[emeraldbabygirl]

Chance’s hands traveled up your thighs and aggressively hiked up your skirt. “Why did you have to wear such a tight skirt tonight babygirl? You’re making it difficult for me.” You moaned as Chance’s fingers fumbled with the tight material. “Can’t we do this in one of the rooms? There’s a lot of people around.” Haru said trying to stand on the other side of you. “Of course there are it’s a club you dumbass.” Chance squatted in front of your clothed heat and his fingers hooked around the crotch of your panties. “Well I think we’d all like it better in private.” Haru said grazing his fingers gently up your thigh. His gentle touch compared to Chance’s aggressive ones felt so good and a deep sigh left your chest. “I know what my princess likes.” Chance growled, tearing the crotch of your panties and letting the material hang. Chance was right. Ever since the two of you met he has been able to pick out little details of things you like and what turns you on without you having to say anything. He’s really good at reading emotions and body signs and the more he found out about you the more aggressive he became. Which led to the situation of Chance and Haru playing with you in his back of a busy club. And it didn’t help that the majority of the songs playing were the ones Chance fucks you too. You whimpered as Chance’s fingers ran over your folds, his thumb swiping your clit before his long and slender fingers delved into your core. “She’s already so wet for us. Tell me princess, is it the song that makes you this soaked or is it the fact that your exposed in a club?” Chance stood up and pulled his fingers against your walls pulling you close to him. With his free hand he grabbed your right breast and squeezed it roughly in his hand causing a set of loud moans to leave your lips. Haru walked behind you and placed one hand on your exposed ass and the other on your left breast and began gently massaging you while his tongue darted out to lick the skin behind your ear. “Dance for me kitten.” Haru said gently, removing his hand from your ass before placing his crotch right in between your cheeks. You had to think how you were gonna move given limited movement but as the next song played your hips automatically moved. Bucking them against Haru’s erection while Chance was fingering you was a pleasurable feeling and all three of you were enjoying it. “Kitten can you feel my cock against your ass? You make me so hard you know that?” Both of Haru’s hands went to your hips and he pressed your ass against his crotch and grinded into you slowly, teasingly. You were very wet and aching for one or both of them to fuck you already. “Please don’t tease me..I’m already so wet and needy for you both. Please fuck me already.” Through the dark club light you could see Chance’s hauntingly sexy grin. He pulled his fingers out of you and held them up to your lips which you opened. “Good princess. You’ll have to be patient, you know your daddies like teasing you. We love watching you come undone and beg and whine for us to give you what you want don’t we Haru?” Chance asked. “Very much.” Haru said gripping the material of your skirt as his grinding was getting more aggressive. Chance chuckled and pulled his fingers out of your mouth and replaced the emptiness with his tongue. His kissing was always aggressive and sloppy and wet, your saliva getting mixed with his, his tongue domming in your mouth. He pulled away and his right hand came up to grab your jaw. “You like this princess? You like how rough we’re being with you?” You nodded and moaned. “You can’t moan like that princess, I know you’re needy and aching for our cocks but we can speed up the process if you use your words. So be a good girl and answer Daddy.” Your hips bucked again and your hands went for anywhere you could grab. You sighed as you gripped Chance’s leather jacket, his grip softened on your jaw and when he let go you spoke up. “Yes Daddy. I love it when you and Haru are rough with me. I’m so needy and my pussy is aching for your cock please just take me against the wall already please please please.” You whined your body tensed up at every touch, your core aching and soaked. “Yeah, I know you do you impatient dirty whore.” Chance chuckled as his lips attacked your neck. He aggressively licked and sucked at your skin, his teeth pulling your ear lobe causing a sharp gasp to leave your mouth. With one hands still gripping Chance’s jacket your other hands found the firm bulge in his pants and pawed at it. A low growl emanated from Chance’s throat vibrating next to your ear causing you to shudder. You tilted your neck over allowing more room for Chance to mark you up. Letting out a frustrated sigh you spoke up again. “Please,” your hips stilled and Haru let go of your hips and grabbed your breasts. “C’mon Chance, you don’t want to keep kitten waiting do you? She’s always so good for us.” Haru’s soft lips came up to the back of your neck and he hummed softly to himself. “Please please, you know how impatient I am. Please, I’m so wet I need one of you inside me, please.” You began to cry. Chance could read you like a book and he always tried to tease you a little further than last time but he was growing impatient too. So he gave in. Chance and Haru helped you up against the wall and Haru held your arms away from Chance and you. Chance undid his pants pulling his thick and hard cock out and grabbing one of your legs he lifted it up holding the back of your thigh and jammed his cock into you. “Fuck yes!” you cried out finally feeling his cock in your soaked pussy. “Does that feel good you whore?” Chance growled his grip on the back of your thigh tightening. “Yes.” you released a sigh tears still running down your cheeks. Haru continued to hum and left kisses along your neck as his hands stayed on your breasts. At this point you didn’t care that a few people had seen you, you didn’t care that a few phones were out and recording you were just so relieved to finally get what you want. Chance’s thrusting started out slow but it didn’t take him long before he was pounding into you, your body pushing against Haru’s. Chance looked right into your teary eyes and inches from your face said, “I’m gonna make you scream loud enough this whole club can hear you and when everyone has their eyes and phones on you I’m gonna make you beg and beg to cum and I’ll cum over and over in you til it’s dripping down your thighs and you’re shaking and Haru will have to hold you up and then he’s gonna take you and you won’t get to cum until he’s finished cumming. I’ll turn you into a whining, shaking mess in front of all these strangers. And you know why I’m doing that? Because Daddy loves his slutty babygirl so much and he wants others to see how easily I can ruin you, how needy you are to have both your holes filled and how much you enjoy others seeing you fucked out for your daddies. You belong to us and I want everyone in this club to know that.”

[sirene312]

oh GOD guys…. You have no idea the crusade i had to went through just to be sitting here, with my dear computer working again, and enjoying the joy of 1.9 Mbps internet connection speed. First thing on the front page of my dash was three shitposts on a row, new niche memes, and good ‘ol fandom drama. god how I missed this hell site. 

In case anyone wants to know what happened, I will put behind a ‘read more’ the story of a missing computer part that quickly become a detective mission, that dragged me unwillingly into the wild ride I didn’t signed for when pressing ‘buy’ on an online store.

TL;DR at the end bc this is very long. English is not my first language so please bear with me! 

Okay, some of you may know a bit about me since apparently i don’t have a “dude shut up! Stop oversharing your woes!!!” button on me but hey here are some things to know about me in case you are curious: I live in Venezuela and not having internet is my personality trait, living in my country is very hard, hard like trying to play the Rainbow Road of Mario Kart but you have butter on your hands, your eyes are closed and you are running on the rain while there is a 8.0 earthquake happening. That hard. I work as a freelance graphic designer and make art commissions so me and my family can survive the economic crisis on my country, having internet and a working computer is a really big deal, like literally we eat thanks to it. Now you see how that would led me to spend a whole month chasing and stressing over a stupid part my computer needed.

Back in December, remember last season of “what’s troubling Sirene now?” where i spend almost a month without internet and then yay internet is back! for like two days? well, after Christmas there was a sudden power cut one night and i was on my computer working on a commission but since this is now a common occurrence i didn't think anything of it ��until next day when i tried to switch my computer ON it didn't. I tried everything to revive it, grabbing anxiously my hair, walking on circles, and pressing continuously the power button, you know everything, but it was in vain. It’s dead, Jim. As you can imagine i had a breakdown when i realized i won’t be able to work anymore and needed to buy a new power supply since this one was toast…and was without internet friggin again. AGAIN. I survived till now using my crappy phone data but heavy apps hardly load, tumblr/ao3/twitter sometimes loaded if i refreshed them like a madman. 

My computer is a tiny model and has a power supply that apparently is made by beavers in Narnia, because is so uncommon that the only stores that sell them are on my Capital city two states away from where i live. Knowing this, there is not other alternative for me but to use a online store and shipping the package here, in theory sounds simple right? a reminder that this is a third world country, where everything is falling apart and barely holding it together with chewing gum and prayers, what are the odds of something going wrong hmm….

Okay, this happened in the week after Christmas and before New Year's Eve, so of course all stores in my country decided to go on vacation and return on January. I impatiently waited for two online stores to be back on business that have the power supply i need, they were physical stores too so i thought i would be safe. i liked one more than the other and, as i told my friends, i felt like a telenovela protagonist that was on a love triangle with two galanes but the hotter one was in coma and the other just had 3 episodes in, meaning that the better rated store was still offline and the other was online but only had like 3 products sold …not very reassuring but i desperately needed to start working again so i went with that one. Big mistake.

Everything started on Tuesday, January 14. 

Mercado Libre is a page where people sell things like Amazon, this is where the seller of the power supply was, after you click on buy, you can see the seller info and a chat to talk to them, i wrote but there was not immediate response so i called, i spoke to a woman and she told me to text her on WhatsApp, that should have been my first red flag, if the app had a perfect chat option there why text outside of it?? 

whatever, i went and text her, asked when would she send the package and she told me “tomorrow” the shipping company she was going to use is called “Zoom” (remember that name bc it will be mentioned a lot) when you send something they give the sender (the store) a tracking number the sender should give YOU in order for the shipping office (Zoom) in your city to give you the package. (this number is important)

this was my first time buying anything online so i didn’t know any of that just vaguely knew how it worked, so i asked her if she the next day would give me the tracking number or the shipping company would call me when my package was on the shipping center? and she told me “both, i will give you the number and they are going to call you” I said perfect, thank you very much and thought ‘hey that went well!’ 

Unknown to me, for the next 10 days i was going suffer a weird and painful skin reaction on both hands, and man…it was bad (tw graphic description of a skin condition ahead) the skin on the palm of my hands completely fell off, and it burned like i had scraped my hands on the sidewalk and someone was pouring lemon juice on them. Ouch. as you can imagine all my attention was on what was going on with my hands. I still don’t know what could have caused that severe reaction.

With difficulty texted the woman on Monday 20 i asked again for the tracking number but she said “i’m waiting for the bike delivery guy to give me the number but your package was sent” so she -the store seller- dont go personally to Zoom to send the packages and some else does, i tell the woman again to give me the number as soon as she has it, bc Zoom has an app you can check your package rute and status with that number, she said “okey amiga”.

That week, i could barely lift a fork i was suffering from whatever it was that happened to my hands until my mom found an Aloe Vera plant and i started to rub that gooey, viscose gel thingy on my hands and was slowly getting better, (seriously guys, Aloe Vera plants are a godsend keep one or 10 at home) by the time i suddenly remembered about the package it was Friday 24 the woman didn’t text me anything like she said would do and i didn’t receive any calls either all week, so friday i text her asking again for the tracking number and oh yes finally she has it! My happiness was short lived because……THE PACKAGE WAS RETURNED.

Something occurred and there was an error on the address or something (I triple checked all my personal info was in order before i gave it to her -thanks anxiety!- so i know it was not on me) i was so furious if only the woman had given me the friggin number sooner that week, i would have realized there was something wrong and would have gone to the Zoom on my city where the package was being held before it was returned to the capital. She told me she would send again my package that Friday BUT Zoom only works mon-fri not weekends. Now I need to wait till monday to receive my thing. great.

Monday 27 rolls in and that week i proceeded to text the woman EVERY SINGLE DAY asking if she had sent my package, i hated being a nuisance texting so much but it was necessary, money is getting short and we need food. 

On Wed 29 I even texted her a desperate plea, i told her please i need my power supply to start working again! and you know how she responded? BY LEAVING ME ON SEEN. i called her until she answered and she told me “oh i sent it today” she assured me, in the most unsure voice she could muster, that she totally did it.

So I went the next day to the Zoom office and surprise! it was a lie, she didn’t send anything, nada! again asked her for the new track.num. and she told me “amiga the thing is that …the package has not arrived here. is still in your State.“ [*record scratch*] hmm whAT?

I immediately called Zoom and asked them to tell me where my package is? Where is it!?, it’s still in my city or in the Capital?? So they gave me a number for the returned package to check on the app and…said it arrived at the Capital Fri. 24. Not only that but it was marked as "given to the client” aka the sender. 

Now I realize this woman has been lying to me. For a whole week. I text her screenshots of where the package was and she tells me that supposedly the package is not on Zoom there and insists it is here in my State. A friend knows someone that works on Zoom that checks their database and confirms that no, is not here anywhere and that definitely arrived in the Capital. even shows that a man named A. Rodriguez was the one that picked up the package. Who is this man?? what's going on?

here's a meme i sent my friends in the group chat while i was trying not to freak out about all this. 

This has become a "she-said, he-said" situation because the woman keeps insisting Zoom is the one at fault about the whereabouts of my missing package but Zoom says Hold it! And slaps continuous evidence that shows the places where the package has been at all times. 

Meanwhile I’m like “where the hell is my power supply??? All I want is to work. Why is this happening to me?” ;_;

So far what we know:

Package arrived in my city but was returned to the city of origin (the Capital) on Friday 24.

The following week the store seller lied to me and would everyday promise to send the package again to me. and never did.

On Thursday 30 the woman tells me that the package never arrived from my city and she’s waiting for it to “arrive” but the shipping office tells me the package was returned a week ago on Fri. 24 so it’s impossible that it has not arrived. not for nothing they are called ZOOM they deliver fast.

the app even says “given to the client”, and one thing I know for a fact, is that it is near impossible to pick up a package from there without the friggin tracking number, they won’t even give you info about it without it. so it’s very unlikely that a random person just walked away with it.

so we have two possibilities: 

1. Someone from Zoom stole it. Ok, feasible. Corrupt people working on this kind of service in my country steal things of value all the time. still i doubt this was the case, the company seemed really concerned and would try their best to help me find my package giving me all the info i requested, even the name of the person who took it. 

2. the store seller lied again and the man who took the package is the same bike delivery guy that transported it there in the first place. That's how they were able to take it from there so easily. She denied knowing anyone named A. Rodriguez but she has lied before so i don’t trust her word. To me, this is the more likely scenario for what happened to the package. 

February comes and still I have no idea where is my package and the woman keeps making excuses as to why she “hasn’t found it” she again leaves me on seen after I asked for information, next day I called her non stop because now I’m pissed and i want answers, she finally text me that she will send another power supply since she “couldn’t find the first one” no further explanation whatsoever, and tells me will send it on Friday, but remember that Zoom don’t work on weekends so the new package will be staying on the Zoom office until Monday, my friend tells me that is not good what if the thief works there and steals it again? so I asked the woman to send it on Monday and she tells me that only Tuesdays they send all their stuff to be delivered….now she tells me the store have a specific delivery day? Now? 

I’m not happy about waiting for more days but there is nothing i can do about it so February 11 is here and I send the woman a text telling her to take a photo of the receipt with the tracking number so the story of the first package won’t repeat, and guess what? The woman left me on seen!! you don’t know how that blue seen mark got me shook. that stressed me so bad that finally I had enough, my friends encouraged me to cancel the order and ask for a refund, I stopped texting her on WhatsApp and left a ultimatum on the Mercado Libre chat, that way I had proof on that page of the fraud this woman was pulling on me and could get her banned there. I should have done that before but the need to repair my computer blinded me and was what kept me trying so hard to get my power supply. Desperation can drive you to make foolish decisions. 

After my ultimatum, the woman changed her tune and was very solicitous, and replied super fast, even said on the chat “let it be noted we are a serious company and always answered all your messages” yes, she said THAT, can you believe the audacity, the nerve? I immediately reply “since you didn’t answer any of my texts yesterday, can’t fault me for expressing here my concern about my purchase.”  Then I said very politely but with finality that if she did not send me the photo of the receipt with the tracking number the next day I would not hesitate bitch to ask for a refund. And what do you know? Worked like a charm. The next day the first thing in the morning on my phone was a photo of the receipt.

 SO yes this unnecessary long story has an anticlimactic but happy end after all! Next morning I happily went to the Zoom office and after a whole month of countless lies, unanswered texts, blood, sweat, and tears, I picked up mypower supply. Reunited at long last! This happened on February 14. Valentine’s Day. Love -and being persistent af- always wins! 

TL;DR I bought online a new power supply, the seller tried to scam me or something bc lied about how my purchase was “lost” saying the shipping company was the culprit. Sending me on a wild goose chase trying to find my package. i had to threaten her with a refund to get her to send me finally my power supply.

[milstrim]

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again

Chapter 2: It’s a Girl!

Mary Fitzpatrick stared at him in disbelief, her brown eyes wide, looking as though everything she had ever known had been a lie. The woman glanced between him, Pepper, and the papers in front of them.

"You want it? You actually want the baby? Thi-this, I--really?!?" A smile was tugging at her lips, as if she was afraid to actually believe him. Her brown eyes were hopeful, before they turned a little doubtful, "This isn't some impulse decision, or a dare or something is it? Because you'll have to be there for it and--"

"--I-yes! I really want it, and that's a promise. I've put a lot of thought into it, Mary, this wasn't just some spur of the moment decision," he gave her a long stare, making sure she knew he was being sincere, "I'm in it for the long haul. This is my kid, and I'm willing to do right by them."

She was smiling in earnest now, her eyes brighter than before, before she seemingly reigned herself in and turned to look at the papers, which he passed over to her.

"In there is another NDA," Pepper started, listing what the woman would be signing, "A contract saying you are waving away your parental rights, that Tony has full legal control over decisions for the baby once it is born..." and on it on it went, making Tony even more glad she was there. Legal stuff always gave him a headache, but it was particularly bad when it involved his baby, he found, "...and of course we'll have to call in our lawyers, each of you needs a legal representative to go over these before anything is signed."

"Does that mean they'll get signed today or not?" Tony asked, turning to Pepper, who shook her head.

"Our lawyers are on standby, but I don't know about Ms. Fitzpatrick..." she trailed off, looking at the woman in question with a hint of doubt. Mary shook her head in response.

"I live in New York. I only flew out here to have a meeting with you and I honestly didn't think anything would get this far," she answered, "Should I call him or...?"

"I suppose," Pepper answered, "unless you want to go find a different lawyer."

"What's his name?" he asked, "I'll pay for his ticket and everything, I want him down here as soon as possible."

And he meant it. The man, Brian Torres, was in California and had arrived at his hotel room by 9:37, exactly 7 hours later. But until then, they had time to fill.

"Perfect," Pepper said, taking up the papers and putting them in a folder, "He'll be here tonight and we can go over everything tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow?" Tony exclaimed, impatient. Pepper shot him a look, exasperated.

"Yes, tomorrow," she turned to address Mary, "Feel free to let him know all expenses are covered. Hotel, plane tickets, transportation, everything."

"Of course," the woman responded, her smile light, "I'll let him know,"

She stood up to leave, and Pepper followed suit, grabbing Mary's coat and bag for her. But Tony couldn't help but feel disappointed. He had planned on making a huge decision today, and he had basically done nothing. Tony stood up to show Mary to the lobby, and possibly even her car, but the urge to do something more was too strong to resist.

"How about you come by my house,"

Mary and Pepper both stopped, Mary looking surprised and a little confused while Pepper's face was masked with cool indifference.

"You can see where the kid'll grow up and we can throw around ideas. We could move you in temporarily while you're pregnant, so you can stay close by and all."

She tilted her head at that, thoughtful.

"That's not a bad idea, though I'll have to wait until I'm on maternity leave."

"Alright, then," he said, going to hold the door open for her, "I'm driving."

They managed to get to the parking lot, into his car, and completely off the property without Obadiah noticing them. Then again, Tony had told Pepper to keep him busy, and she was nothing if not perfect at her job.

Tony turned on the radio to some random 80's channel, keeping the volume low so they could talk easily. Mary made no move to talk though, and they were halfway to the mansion when he couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Have you thought of any names or is that going to just be a 'me' decision, cause' I've already been looking at some. Of course I don't know the baby's gender, but I was thinking about James or Jamie, though I don't know if James is too basic or not."

He rambled on, trying to hide how nervous all of it really made him feel. He felt mostly successful, which was probably due to his years of practice in front of the press. Mary smiled, apparently amused.

"It's a girl, if you were wondering," she told him, answering the question he hadn't asked aloud.

Tony's heart leaped in joy and he couldn't contain the goofy grin that spread over his face. A girl, a girl! He was going to have a girl. It made the situation feel even more real and Mary had to let him know that the light had turned green.

He didn't stop smiling the whole way back, throwing names back and forth, though he still wasn't satisfied with any of them. He might want to look at some old family names to see if any of them caught his eye.

"This way, Ms. Fitzpatrick," he directed Mary when he parked the car. She followed him inside, taking in the size and the view of the mansion with a pleased smile. She looked worried, however, when she saw the bar, her lips pursed.

"I'm getting rid of it. Going clean and getting rid of all the alcohol in the house."

"Good. And, um, the cliff seems rather dangerous,"

His heart jumped at that, caught between speeding up and stopping all together. His house overlooked a cliff, a fucking cliff.

"I'll get it fenced, and she shouldn't ever be by herself long enough to somehow fall off a cliff," he assured, making a mental note to ask Jarvis to have some people come over to build a fence, "Here, I'll show you to where you'll be staying."

Her room was down the next hallway over from his. Like his room, it had a nice view of the ocean and high tech lined the windows and walls, telling the temperature, news, blocking out lights and creating visuals of whatever she pleased. The tech was nice (obviously), but the room itself was a little plain, after all, it was only a guest room. Mary sat down on the bed, taking in the ginormous room.

"It's nice, Mr. Stark."

"Please, call me Tony."

"Then it's very nice, Tony. Where will the kid's room be?"

"It'll be across from mine. It hasn't been set up yet though, so there isn't much to see," he told her, shrugging.

"I'll take your word for it," she smiled, getting up. Immediately she gasped and doubled over, clutching her belly, Tony rushing to her side in an instant.

"What? What is it? Are you okay?"

"She kicked!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hands and placing them on her stomach. Tony let her, shocked into a stunned silence. After a moment he looked up at her in confusion, not feeling anything, "That was the first time she kicked!"

"I guess she tired herself out," Tony chuckled, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward, and a little disappointed he didn't get to feel it. Mary seemed to realize his discomfort, and moved the conversation forward.

"What else were you thinking for names? Or godparents?"

"I've already got a godfather in mind, and I was going to look over some old family records for names."

"Have you got them with you?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

And that's how the two ended up, hours later, sitting on the floor combing through old books and photos of Tony's family history. They ordered takeout (and some pistachio ice cream for Mary, who was having cravings) and played a movie while they came up with baby names, Jarvis keeping track of their favorites. They looked at cribs and toys and more baby stuff than Tony had seen in his entire life. It wasn't until Pepper came in to ask him for a signature for some company thing did they realized how late it was, just past nine. Which, okay, wasn't actually late, but he hadn't expected for her to be over for so long. They'd been at his house since 3:45.

Tony offered for her to stay the night, but Mary insisted she'd rather go to the hotel, so he drove her back.

By the time he laid down in bed he was still too excited to go to bed, despite the fact that he'd worked in the lab for four hours after Mary left, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. So he had Jarvis download some parenting-guide books. They weren't anything super complex, just a lot of reading on basic baby needs and how to interact with them.

He shot his AI a dirty look, sure that Jarvis had picked some really simple books to dumb things down for him, but didn't say anything. It was a good start, really. Tony didn't know anything about kids, but he was about to learn. The man smiled again. It was a goofy grin that crinkled his eyes and seemed to lighten his entire being.

"It's a girl, J," he grinned aloud, even though the AI already knew that. Which he was sure to tell Tony, his tone full of sass. Tony fell asleep with that thought repeating, making promises to himself and his kid to be the best dad he could be. I promise:

I'll be there for her. She'll always be loved, and she'll know. I'll tell her everyday. I'll never hurt her, and I'll keep her safe from harm. I'll accept her, I'll love her.

God, he couldn't wait to meet his kid.

Previous Part  ///  Next Part

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “The One That Got Away” Part 2

The terrorist attack targeting Wayne National Bank nearly three years ago left only one survivor behind: Y/N almost died from the injuries, but she was lucky enough to wake up at the hospital days later. It was so hard to cope with the news: on top of losing her eyesight, the young woman lost her co-workers also and strangely enough the one responsible for the entire tragedy wasn’t The Clown Prince of Crime.

Four weeks later

“Now we’re going up five steps,” Bruce announces and you carefully walk holding on to his arm. “Almost there. Do you want more champagne or a cocktail?”

“Actually Mister Wayne, I would like a shot of whiskey,” you reply and he signals the bartender.

“I wouldn’t mind one either,” he adds and orders: “Two shots of whiskey please!”

“How long do we have to be here?” you exhale, enjoying the ambiance nevertheless. You wish this could be one of the instances when you are able to see; it must be a really fancy venue. Unfortunately, your vision didn’t return at all after the incident leading up to The Joker saving you from the Triple Star gang.

“Maybe another hour or so, unless you don’t feel well and then I can drive you back to your apartment.”

“I’m ok, no worries. It’s just a bit weird: I’m not used to this kind of stuff,” a nervous Y/N confesses.

“Charity balls can be overwhelming,” Bruce nods in agreement. “Everyone talks and talks, eats, drinks and talks some more. The purpose is to make these rich people give up on their money for good causes so it’s worth it.”

You laugh at his honesty, making sure to underline you’re grateful for the opportunity:

“Thank you for including my charity; I really appreciate it and it means a lot. I will be able to help more people.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Bruce sighs, grabbing the drinks from the bartender. “Here you go,” the glass is given to you. “Since this year it was my turn to organize the event, might as well use the hype from what happened to the Angel of Gotham and get you more funding. Sorry, I don’t want to sound insensitive,” he apologizes when he notices the change in your mood. “That was stupid to say,” Bruce admonishes himself and you try to stir the conversation towards another topic.

“It’s fine; I understand what you mean, Mister Wayne,” you taste a sip of alcohol and continue. “If you want to ask any questions about what happened… you can.”

The billionaire puckers his lips, debating on the unexpected chance to dig out some information that could shed some light on your abduction and surprising intervention from The Clown Prince of Crime. He did read the police report with your statement courtesy of Commissar Gordon, yet off the record discussion is more than welcomed.  

“Let’s go on the terrace then for more privacy,” he suggests and you take Bruce’s arm again, following his guidance.

You pass by people engaged in several chats, hoping nobody will stop you for trivial interrogations you’re not comfortable answering.  

“Did they… did they…e-hem… do… anything…ummm…to you?” Bruce stutters because he has no idea how to convey the inquiry without sounding like a total jerk invading your personal life.

“I said it to the cops also: no, I wasn’t sexually assaulted,” you reaffirm and he grumbles, relieved.

“Thank goodness,” the 35 year old taps your fingers. “I don’t even know why my mouth even uttered such rubbish…I know it’s none of my business,” and he immediately corrects the sentence. “As in of course I would care about something like that, but I shouldn’t force you to share.”

“You’re digging your own grave, Mister Wayne,” you interrupt his tirade since he doesn’t know how to handle the situation.

“Uh, I know. I’m sorry Y/N,” and you laughter makes him chuckle too. “Bad luck,“ Bruce concludes as soon as you are both on the patio. “There are lots of people outside; do you mind using the small conference room? It’s empty,” he gazes through the opened glass doors and you follow him, compliant.

“Of course, no problem.”

“Let’s take a sit on this purple couch,” he urges and you oblige, smiling:

“So many purple items around here,” Y/N has to emphasize because Bruce kept on describing the environment to her and that stood out. “A splash of color never hurts; it must be really nice.”

“I like purple; it’s my favorite color,” he stares at you, searching for a reaction when the tip of the knife he’s holding almost touches your cornea. But there’s no reflex and the man smirks, returning the blade to his pocket. He drinks some more, restarting the debriefing:

“Do you know where you were taken? I mean, I know you are not able to see, still did anything catch your attention? Any noises? Particular smells?”

“No, nothing” you pout. “I assume it was outside town: it was quiet and Gotham is never silent. They transported me in a van, a larger vehicle. I’m sure of that since there were several individuals with me. A few moments after being kidnapped I was hit in the head and passed out.”

And when you woke up you were blind again, not that Bruce needs to know.

“I think I was locked in a basement, very tiny space…I was given some food and water. I lost track of time and at one point I heard someone yelling that The Joker arrived, then a lot of turmoil and a harsh argument. It worsened and almost lost my mind when the shooting started: I was so scared and had no clue about what the hell was happening.”

You pause and gulp, the memory of the frightful circumstances making you shrug.

“My apologies,” Bruce remorsefully hums. “I shouldn’t make you recall such an unpleasant experience… I will get us some grape juice on ice.”

“Grape juice?...” you take advantage of the welcomed change  in topic. Great way to divert your attention from the anxiety you feel while saying out loud what you already disclosed to the cops.

“It’s such a refreshing beverage; I can’t live without it,” he admits and tries to stand up but you stop him.

“Please don’t go; if someone stumbles upon this room in your absence it will be awkward for me; you’re the only person I know at this reception.”

“Of course,” Bruce agrees right away. “I’m definitely not in my best shape today; we can go and get the drinks together.”

“That’s better,” you smile yet don’t show any signs you want to move so he patiently waits; the philanthropist assumes there’s more you wish to say and he doesn’t push for a continuation of your story.

Y/N finishes the drink and glares at the man veiled in darkness just like everything else surrounding her.  

“Do you know what the scariest part was, Mister Wayne?”

Complete stillness and you whisper:

“When I heard somebody screamed: Grenade! It was such a powerful explosion, it reminded me of what happened that day at the bank…”

Bruce doesn’t respond and a tearful Y/N wraps up her story in a way that makes her date impatient for the grand finale:

“The air was so thick I couldn’t even breathe and I fainted. I remember hands digging me out from under the rubble, words and sentences I couldn’t comprehend since I was drifting in and out of consciousness. And then I woke up at the hospital…”

“Mmm…” Bruce pouts. “Do you have any idea why The Joker saved you?”

“I was told about the incident at my Soup Kitchen…and I was shocked. I have no idea why he did that…” you reveal not mentioning you spent countless hours debating about it.

“Possibly because he’s sick and tired of The Triple Star gang meddling with his plans? What kind of stupid name is that anyway? Triple Star!!” he hisses. “Do you know they all have three star tattooed on their backs?! Who does that anymore?! What are they?! Kindergarten brats?!”

Why is Bruce getting so mad?!

“The Joker owns Gotham! Nobody else!!!”

You’re a bit uncomfortable with his rant and it shows.

“Mister Wayne…”

He has no more patience and you get cut off:

“You know why The Joker rescued you? Because he needs you for something, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered. And to prove he’s in charge and not the competition!”

“Mister Wayne, please calm down. You’re making me nervous…” a concerned Y/N pleads.

The man scoffs, straining to regain control over himself.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he chuckles and takes your hand into his, amused by what he’s about to divulge. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Y-yes, of course,” you stammer and want to continue when he reaches over and kisses you, biting your lower lip seconds afterwards.

You wince in pain, freezing when the tone changes to one you hoped you won’t hear again:

“Oh my; am I too rough, sugar?”

You yank your hands away but he won’t let go.

“What is this?!” you pant, struggling to distance yourself from The Joker without success.

He laughs with all his heart, enjoying your stunned attitude.

“It’s your old pal J with the best voice synthesizer money can buy. It’s not that hard to copy someone’s voice with these things, especially since you can find interviews online with the pretty boy.”

You stop fighting his clasp and carefully listen to the wireless mike hidden in your ear:

“Remain calm, Y/N! No matter what you do, don’t set him off!”

The Clown Prince of Crime though has to brag about his achievement and makes sure to bring you up to speed:

“I picked you up in my limo before he did; the rich boy probably wondered where you were when he showed up at your apartment. Congratulations, sugar: you just stood up a billionaire,” the green haired madman snickers. “I have plenty of resources to recreate a party and people that work for me to pose as guests. You’re not at a charity ball, sugar; I simply took you to one of my humble abodes.”    

You feel so exposed, yet your current situation demands a strong determination to help maintain the appearances. The Joker’s fingers suddenly go around your neck, the immediate threat resonating in the room:

“You will do money laundering for me! You will do as I say or I’ll make your life a living hell to the point of you now knowing what’s real and what’s not! Do I make myself clear?!!” he snaps and you nod a yes, obedient to his request.

“Good girl,” he sniffs your scent. “Now I should take you back, I’m tired with the charade; it was fun but exhausting,” he grins and can’t shut up: “The pretty boy must be wondering where you are.”

You want to hold in the defiant remark but can’t:

“What makes you think Mister Wayne doesn’t know where I am?”

“Oh shit!” you hear in your ear. “We’re moving in!”

The Joker frowns, intrigued: the red dots focusing on his chest are an affirmation of snipers ready to take him out.

“What did you do, sugar?” he barks and takes the knife out of his pocket, stabbing your abdomen: the resistance he encounters gives another clue he got played. Y/N is wearing a customized bullet proof vest under her cocktail dress but it’s not enough to stop the blade.

“T-thank you…” you have time to tell him before they barge in.

“For what?” he resentfully snarls, removing the knife from your body.

“For proving you don’t deserve to be saved,” you admit with such serenity he’s thrown off for once.

The noise of broken glass and shattered objects makes you jump as you moan in pain.

“On your knees!!!” the squad barges in, aiming their rifles at The Joker. “Drop the weapon! NOW!”

The gun shots echoing throughout the house are a logical testimony that the SWAT team is swiping out the premises, taking out those from The Joker’s crew daring to fight back.

“Hands above your head!” the team leader shouts and the kneeled King of Gotham obeys with a demented smirk as the knife he dropped is being kicked away from him.

“Civilian hurt, requiring medical assistance!” another team member requests, pressing on your wound. “Don’t worry Miss, you’ll be fine. OK?” the guy reassures. “You were very brave,” he praises your skills. You lay down on the couch, shaking from the throbbing ache. 

“I don’t feel very brave…”

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

5 Months Later, Arkham Asylum

The buzz lets you know the 6th gate for Level 1 Clarence is opened and you can pass towards you final destination: the highest security area inside the Arkham Asylum reserved for the most dangerous criminally insane.

“Here she is,” the guard points at the one of the screens depicting Y/N searching the space in front of her with the cane. “Punctual as always,” he tries to joke with Bruce Wayne.

“I know,” he flatly responds. “I’m the one that brings her here.”

The head of security gives the guard a disapproving gaze and the subaltern shuts it down, pretending not to notice the sour expression on his boss’s face.

The four men present watch the monitors in silence while a geared up staff helps you enter the interrogation room where The Joker already awaits, tight up in his straightjacket and chained up to the floor. You take a sit across from his chair, the white table separating the two people being the only object standing out in the padded room.

The Clown intensely stares at the table and you blankly glare at him; that’s how every visit goes: 10 minutes every week on Wednesdays, perfect quietness since he didn’t articulate a single word after he was captured 5 months ago.

The Arkham Asylum patients are not allowed to have visitors, yet Bruce Wayne and his lawyers found a loophole that allows Y/N to briefly visit The King of Gotham once every seven days. That’s all they were able to obtain without going to court and it was fine with you: it’s better than nothing so you didn’t argue.

The Joker has the right to refuse the visit but he never does: he shows up for the short meetings, not talking nor looking your way. Who knows what’s going on in his brain besides the obvious insanity?...

“I admire her courage,” the head of security addresses Commissar Gordon since he’s the fourth person there. “Even if I don’t get it: why would she want to be around a crazy psychopath? He tried to murder her!”

Jim scratches his chin, sharing a theory him and Bruce talked about:

“He didn’t aim to kill, otherwise he would have cut her throat or stabbed her in the head. I suppose that in his twisted mind he sees Y/N as a worthy adversary because I’m sure he didn’t expect a blind woman to give him so much trouble. We’ve been trying to catch him for a long time and we finally succeeded thanks to her agreeing to be the bait. When we approached Y/N with the idea, we knew he might target her after he saved her from the kidnappers. There’s no way The Joker would do something like that without a purpose. We discretely guarded her 24/7 and made sure to stay out of sight in order not to arise any suspicions since he was watching for sure. He’s not stupid: he planned his scheme carefully and maybe we had sheer luck with the whole operation. Who knows?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” the guard gestures at the screen. “I think he said something!”

“Holy crap!” Gordon blurs out. “Rewind and turn up the volume!”

The camera feed is replayed for the small group watching the short conversation that just took place.

“Can I help you?” The Joker’s husky tone is discerned.

“No,” the indifferent Y/N instantly replies.

“I’ll be damned!” the guard opens his mouth in amazement. “He talked to her!”

The monitor reverts to live broadcast and everyone holds their breath when you get up from your chair and J protests:

“Your 10 minutes aren’t up yet!”

You’re still standing and he wiggles in his straightjacket, uncomfortable.

“I have this strand of hair tickling my cheek; drives me nuts. Would you fix my locks? I can’t do it myself since I’m in a little bit of predicament for the moment.”

They watch you walk around the table and searching around with your hands while the madman grins, actually guiding you.

“Two more steps to your left. Now one more straight forwards. Another one. Jackpot!” he purrs when your fingers search for the strand of green hair you cannot see, but it’s not that hard to find.

“Alert the wards to intervene!” the head of security orders but Gordon has a different opinion:

“No, let her do it if she wants to.”

You caress his hair a few times, turning around to go back to your chair.

“Thank you sugar,” J sarcastically offers fake gratitude. “I truly don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Yes, you’re fortunate The Angel of Gotham took pity on you and got rid of that horrible itch.”

The Joker can’t hold in a disturbing laugh since he finds your statement entertaining by his quirky standards.

“I’m honored. Hey... hey, come back here: I have another itch you can scratch!”

You get ready to criticize his remark and he’s aware.

“It’s my collar bone, sugar! I’m not a perv, don’t get worked up for nothing!” The Clown pretends to get angry at your assumption.

You return by his side and bury your fingers in his jacket, gently scratching the soft skin.

“That’s moooore like it,” he purrs louder, the satisfying groan making you retract your arm. “Ahhh, so nice of you to help a friend in need,” the entitled silver smile dies out on his lips once you interrupt:

“We’re not friends!”

“Of course we are,” he sneers. “I stabbed you: that’s how I seal the deal.”

Gordon furrows his eyebrows, totally captivated by the chat.

“What is she doing?...” he asks as a rhetorical question and Bruce enlightens everyone anyway:

“Playing his game…”

Back in the padded room you stump back to your spot and grab your cane, preparing to bail.  

“Are you gonna come see me again?” The Joker curiously demands to know.

“No.”

“Why not?”

You huff and he cackles, entertained:

“That’s fine, I’ll survive: just like you survived the Wayne Bank terrorist attack and the basement I dug you out of.”

It’s so hard not to fight his venomous barking.

But you keep it together and the custodian opens the door, a weary Y/N emerging from her weekly visit with The Joker yelling and squirming behind her, enraged he cannot escape confinement:

“Who dug you out, huh? Who dug you out? Was it The Batman? The police? Or me?”

He’s becoming more and more agitated, the chief of security pressing a button that opens a sealed exit to The Joker’s left.

“Sedate him,” he commands the six caretakers rushing in while The Clown keeps screaming:

“Get back here!! That’s an order!!” and your disobedience prompts another tantrum as they inject him with the sleep medicine: “Who do you think you are, hm?” he shouts so loud it finally triggers a reaction from your part; you slowly spin towards him, making sure to articulate the perfect words:

“I’m the one that got away.”

 Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/185672114796/the-joker-x-reader-the-one-that-got-away-part-1

Also read: MASTERLIST

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You can also follow me on AO3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: Diyunho.

[frenchie-sottises]

How do her prosthetics work? (( hope i spelled that right- ))

It’s good to start with some history.

When she first got her arms and legs amputated, sounds horrible, I know, they were your normal everyday prosthetics. Of course, they looked ugly to her, cause she has expensive taste, so she decided to learn more about prosthetics and how they work. Overtime, she managed to get her hands on some iron and was able to make her own desirable set. However, despite them looking nice, she saw the opportunity to do something unique to them.

She noticed that if she was struck by lightning once, it’s gonna happen again, so she learned all she could about lightning strike survivors and how lightning works through the human body. Lightning would rather go through a human body, or anything close, than going through the air. Air, believe it or not, has a lot of resistance. It’s why the higher something is, like a skyscraper, the likelier it is to get struck by lightning. It’s also why you see lightning rods on very tall buildings. They have the most risk when it comes to getting hit, so those lightning rods are there to intercept the voltage and allow a safe passage for the voltage to go to the ground. Doesn’t exactly guarantee that the building won’t be struck, but it’s all about lowering risk.

She decided to put coils in the forearms and lower legs to “block” any sudden voltage. The coils are in a upside down U shape. Each limb contains a set of coils that allow the voltage to go through and turn around to be canceled off into nothing. These coils were pure copper, allowing lightning to travel without much heat production.

These lasted a good while till Angele found her way to Zenith. There, she found Zenithian metal, a metal that was lava resistant, glossy black in nature, and was far more durable than a titanium alloy when it comes to impact strength. She managed to mine it and take it home for closer examination. It didn’t show any sign of brittleness despite it being raw. The biggest challenge was it’s resistance to lava, but since Angele could breathe fire at this point, it took a few minutes to realize that she could.

The prosthetics took on the same general format in terms of lightning redirection, but she took it a step further. She’s a Star Wars fan and loves that Palpatine has the ability to shoot lightning out of his hands. The same for General Iroh in ATLA with his lightning redirection. After messing with some experiments, she can now “produce”, redirect, and control the amount of voltage she wishes to release. Her claws are made of a copper alloy that allows this to happen. The same can be said for the claws on her feet.

And what I mean by “produce” is that she can now store voltage for later need. It charges up a capacitor, one that, if mishandled, can easily kill somebody, and gives off a desired amount of charge through the circuits lining in her claws.

Despite her ability to now manipulate voltage and keep herself and others safe, her arms and legs have special things in store. Both have claws that can dig into almost anything. Since this copper is an alloy, it doesn’t get damaged easily. If it’s something that her claws cannot grapple onto, she has retractable claws that lay inside her actual fingers that are made of stainless steel. In fact, her arms and legs are covered with a stainless steel alloy: stainless steel 316. You’re not even looking at Zenithian metal as it only serves to be a base. It’s why her prosthetics aren’t black, but various shades of grayish blues. Zenithian metal cannot be painted. The paint can’t hold onto the smooth metal and will simply warp and peel.

She also has a unique feature on each arm and leg. Her right forearm serves as a crossbow, which allows her to perform a sneak attack when necessary. Her left forearm serves as a computer, which acts like your normal computer, but is programmed to gather more personal info, such as identifying criminals and seeing their records. Her left lower leg carries instant medical supplies for when someone else gets hurt, and her lower right leg carries some ninja supplies like shurikens, a couple of kunais, and a container of caltrops for blocking certain pathways.

Angele also has spines that line up the sides of her arms and backs of her legs. The ones on her legs don’t do much of anything except fit the aesthetic, but the ones on her arms are a resemblance of another ninja weapon: the Tekko-Kagi claws. The claws themselves are used for scratching opponents, but they were also said to be used for disassembling swords just as efficiently, which is what Angele uses them for. I mean, nothing stops her from just, y’know, grabbing a sword and breaking it, but she doesn’t usually fight like that unless she’s become impatient. They can also be displayed if she wants to become the Queen of Bats or to intimidate someone... even though the latter kinda fails to work half the time when she’s human-

The last fact I’ll add is how heavy these prothetics are. Prothetics can be lighter than the limbs they are replacing, but it’s the complete opposite for Angele. Zenithian metal is heavy, stainless steel is pretty heavy too. Each limb in its own right weighs around 5-7lbs. It doesn’t sound all that heavy, but remember that these prosthetics are practically permanent features of hers. She’s carrying weights even when weak. If you’re wondering if her body will suffer negative effects from it, she’s half dragon. Her body is fairly resilient.

However, having weights on her all the time also meant that she gained muscle pretty quickly. Eventually her prosthetics needed serious reshaping to fit the shape of her muscles, but they literally look no different other than the fact that they’re bigger. This muscle gain does help in battle, and let me tell you, steer clear of her entirely. Having muscles means the response times are much snappier, so her speed has increased drastically. If she can’t outrun, or outdo, someone, her strength always has others running. Her prosthetics are stainless steel with bases made of Zenithian metal. One simple punch to the skull is enough to break it. Almost all victims of hers have had reported cases of severe brain trauma.

If you think punches were bad, let me tell you that her upper body strength is nowhere near as powerful as her lower body strength. Since her legs are made of the same materials and have built muscle, God help them if they receive a back kick to the head. One of her victims died upon impact from this move. They never realized that, underneath those boots, her legs were just as deadly.

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Partners in Crime #3

After spending some needed girl time, the pair headed back to STAR Labs.

(Y/N) could hear Caitlin, in the passenger seat, talking on the phone in hushed whispers. She didn't think much of it, not wanting to be nosy. The whispering conversation continued, when the car pulled into the lab parking lot. She waited patiently, turning off the ignition, for her friend to finish the phone conversation.

Caitlin's face lit up all of a sudden. "Alright, I'll bring her in then." Hanging up, she turned to her friend with a big smile.

"What are you so happy about? You're starting to freak me out." (Y/N) leaned against the door, distancing herself from her creepily smiling friend.

"Well, Cisco just told me that our fifth team member is present in the lab, and to bring you in to meet him!"

"Why were you being so secretive on the phone, then?" she asked.

"You'll see when we get there!"

Caitlin managed to get out of the car in record time, flinging open the driver's door, grabbing (Y/N)'s hand, and dragging her into the lab.

"Cait, Caitlin, c-can we slow down a bit?" (Y/N) wheezed, out of breath. But she couldn't help but smile, seeing how giddy Caitlin was. She hadn't seen her friend this happy, since Ronnie died.

"There you guys are! What took you so long?" The resident tech-genius whined. "Was there a shoe sale on the way here that you had to stop by?" He was still munching a Twizzler when they entered the room.

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with wanting to drive safe. Slow and steady wins the race, or in this case, stay alive." (Y/N) thought of herself to have superb driving skills, especially better than Cisco, who thought the speed limit sign was more of a suggestion for drivers, and Caitlin, who drove extremely slow in case she accidentally hit a butterfly.

"And where is this important person I need to meet?" Frankly, she was a little annoyed at the mystery of the fifth person. It had been bugging her all day, and having impatience as a personality trait was not helping the situation. Who was this secretive person who she had practically had to set an appointment to meet?

"Well, the need to wait is no more. Here he is!" Cisco stepped to his right, wiggling his fingers at the ground behind him.. "TA-DA!"

"A dog?! We have a team mascot? Oh my goodness, he is so adorable!" She half-whispered, half-screamed because the little puppy was sleeping, adorably, on the floor. (Y/N) was literally jumping up and down, unable to contain her excitement on the news of the unmasked fifth member.

So worth the wait.

"Dang it, I thought you would be mad, or at least a little annoyed." Cisco was disappointed at her reaction, thinking she would be mad that the mysterious fifth person wasn't even a person. "I completely forgot that you loved dogs."

Caitlin rolled her eyes at his attempt to annoy (Y/N) and turned her attention to trying to calm down her best friend. "(Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N)!!" Her attempts failed, however, as her friend now kneeled on the floor, cooing at the sleeping puppy. "(Y/N), can you listen to me for five seconds, please?"

(Y/N) stopped her fawning, and stared at her friend, who was cutting into her time of cooing at the puppy.

"Yes?"

"Cisco was just kidding. We actually have someone, a real person, we want you to meet, before you lose your mind again over the puppy." Caitlin gestured her hand over to the area behind (Y/N), where a figure dressed in, what appeared to be, scarlet red spandex stood.  

"That cannot be comfortable," she commented, under her breath.

She focused her attention on his face, which she couldn't see very clearly. Standing up, she brushed off her knees and walked over to the red figure with her hand extended out.

"Hello sir! I'm (Y/N)! Pleasure to meet you!"

Even as she got closer, she couldn't make out his face very well. It seemed as though it was vibrating or something. She rubbed her eyes, thinking her vision was messing with her.

The red figure took her hand, and shook it, but didn't do anything else. He just continued to look at her.

"Umm, this would be the part where you tell me your name?" Immediately, the handshaking stopped.

"Wait, (Y/N). You don't know who this?" Caitlin voiced from behind.

"Of course I know who this is. You're 'The Flash'! But I meant, what's your real name? You must have a real name right? Or am I supposed to guess? Is it Clark? Bruce? Bart? Wilson? Wait no, you don't really give off the vibe of a Wilson…" She continued rattling off names off, already lost in her own world.

Caitlin sighed, not liking to have to raise her voice. "(Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N)!!"

"Bernie? Stewar-" She looked at her friends' faces. They didn't seem as excited as she was.

"What?"

"We can't really tell you his identity…"

"Yeah, Dr. Wells told us that we shouldn't, or can't, tell you for your safety."

She gave her friends an 'are you kidding me' look.

"Well, WE aren't allowed to tell you, but if you found out for yourself, we couldn't stop you," the voice behind the vibrating face reasoned. (Y/N) turned back to the source of the voice, the man in the spandex suit. She gave him the same look she gave her friends.

"For all I know, you could be the guy selling hot dogs on the street. How would I even find out? Actually, the better question is, why should I even try?"

"The answer is closer than you think," the superhero hinted.

"At least give me a better hint." She pleaded the Flash and her friends, with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. But to her friends, it just looked like she was trying to imitate bug eyes, so it didn't help her cause.

"So until I find out who he really is, he has to walk around in that costume whenever I'm here?"

"Yup. And it's not a costume, it's a superhero suit. There's a difference," Cisco insisted.

"Well, I do love a man in uniform." she said jokingly. "I think I'll take my time on this case."

"It's true, she does." Caitlin laughed at her friend's antics.

The Flash, on the other hand, seemed flustered at her words, making him stutter. "I-uh-um. Well, nice meeting you Ms-"

"Call me (Y/N)."

"Right. Um, well, I'll be leaving now. Let me know if anything happens or if you need me."

With an awkward wave, the Flash sped out of the room, making any loose papers fly about in the air.

"You know, you guys should really buy some paperweights." (Y/N) suggested to her friends. "Where's he going by the way?"

"Probably off to another rendezvous with his crush." Cisco informed, with raising his eyebrows up and down, in a suggestive manner.

"Huh, interesting. I wonder who she is?"

"Cisco, don't you dare." Seeing him about to answer her question, Caitlin hurried to interrupt him.

"Any-who, back to the real important matter at hand." (Y/N) gestured to the puppy on the floor. "Who's puppy is she?" The puppy of the matter was still sleeping, not even bothered by the previous events in the room.

"It's yours actually."

"WHAT?!"

With that yell, the puppy woke up from it's nap and gave out a yawn, before running over to (Y/N) and pouncing near her feet. He took a second to sniff the new human, before reverting back to jumping up and down.

"What do you mean?" (Y/N) was on the verge of tears from the happiness, and sadness that this whole thing might be a dream. She pinched herself to check. "Ow.. Yup, definitely not a dream."

"We got you a puppy as a welcome gift! I know how much you've wanted one but couldn't when you were in Starling." Caitlin exclaimed.

Her previous land lord didn't allow her to keep dogs in her apartment because of his allergies, so she had to hold off on her dream of becoming a dog lady (similar idea to 'cat lady', but instead with dogs). Well, she wasn't serious on the dog lady thing, but was devastated upon finding out that she wouldn't be able to get a dog. But now, with her changed living spaces, she could.

"You guys, you are the best friends that anyone could ever have." Caitlin's eyes got teary at her words, and Cisco was already a sobbing mess. "What's his name?"

Wiping away her tears, Caitlin responded. "We were waiting for you to name him, since he's yours."

Laughing, (Y/N) looked at the dog closely, through her watering eyes. "Hmm. I think I'm going to call you Chewy. Short for Chewbaca the Third."

The dog barked at his name. "Good! I'm glad you like the name! You're gonna be our new mascot!" Smiling , she picked him up in her arms gently.

"Well, if he's our new mascot, you better be ready to bring him in to the lab everyday. He's as much part of the team as anyone of us." Cisco said.

"Of course! And I hereby decree, Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow, the godfather and godmother of my child Chewy. If anything were to happen to me, I entrust him in your care." (Y/N) announced dramatically, sniffling through her stuffed nose.

"And the moment's over." Caitlin sighed again at her overly dramatic best friend.

(A/N) I really want a dog. I really want a dog. I really want a dog. I think if I say this enough times, maybe one will appear.

[lovemybluebully]

Apologize!!

Oh my God, I've been in such a rut with writing anything for quite awhile and then I saw the movie 'Venom' and was finally inspired! I haven't seen any other 'Venom' tickle fics yet so of course I had to do something about that. ;) Please direct me if you've seen any more! If you haven't seen the movie then you might want to hold off on reading this 'cause it kinda has some spoilers of the relationship between Eddie and Venom. Not intended to be symbrock, but think whatever you want to. lol Nothing sexual going on here though. REPEAT, this fic has a lot of tickling in it so if you don't like then don't read.

Summary: Venom does not like when Eddie calls him a particular name, but he's going to get that apology one way or another. M/M Tickle Fic with a little F/M in the beginning

Word Count: 3,068

This didn’t transfer over well from where I had typed it so sorry if the spacing is a little weird. ^_^’

...........................................................

"Hold on! Wait wait wait, Anne, timeout!" Eddie shouted as his ex-girlfriend chased him around his apartment with him knocking furniture and the like into her path to try to keep a fair distance between them. "Uh uh! You're gonna eat those words!" She was smiling in the most sinister way as she pursued him without hesitation, piquing the interest of Eddie's unofficial roomate. "What's going on? Why is she chasing us?"

"She's going to kill us!" Eddie shrieked out to the alien inside of him as he literally jumped over his couch to avoid capture. "Kill us? Why would she do that?"

"Not literally! I mean she's gonna-AAH!" Distracted by Venom's million questions, Eddie was quickly tackled to the floor by the enthusiastic lawyer as he let out a comically high-pitched scream. "Now what was it you were saying about Dan?" Anne raised a brow as she loomed over him, giving him the chance to redeem himself, though knowing he wouldn't take it. "Uhhh....You mean besides that he's an uptight, boring old stick in the mud who needs to get laid-NO! No-ho! I was ju-hust kihihidding!"

Anne knew he didn't actually mean those things as he and Dan had become pretty good friends in the past months. Still she wasn't going to let Eddie get away with taunting her boyfriend when he wasn't there to defend himself. So in retaliation her fingers dug viciously into the sensitive spots on his ribs, provoking hysterical bouts of laughter as the man tried to wiggle free. "What is she doing?!" Venom's voice was full of alarm at how quickly Eddie had become incapacitated. "Oh God! Anne, pleeheeease stooop!" Eddie cried out with his arms helplessly flailing in failed attempts to deflect her relentless hands. Venom had no idea what was going on and could only see that his host was being attacked in some way.

Eddie's heart rate was elevated off the charts, his respiratory system was in full overdrive and his thoughts were frantic and incoherent; all this prompting Venom to assume the worst. "She is hurting us! I'll stop her!" The symbiote was about to launch into fight mode, but Eddie was quick to deter him. "No no! It dohoesn't hurt! It tihihihickles!"

"What is this 'tickles'?" Venom popped his head out to glare suspiciously at Anne, who simply smiled at his nativity and rolled her eyes a little.

"Oh relax, it's not life threatening. It's just something that gets our little Eddie all giggly and squirmy," she said that last part to her victim in the most teasing voice that she could, making him blush and giggle even harder.

At this point Venom was more confused than ever. "...I don't understand. What purpose does it serve to you humans?"

Anne thought for a mere moment, but then just shrugged. "Well I'd say it's more of a bonding activity. You know, just for fun. But it can also be used for revenge and coercion since a lot of people tend to find it to be torture. Right Eddie?" Her knowing fingers squeezed up into the armpits of her ex-boyfriend as he gave an embarrassing squeal and rolled back and forth with his arms clung tightly against his sides. "Yehehes! It suhuhucks!!" The symbiote was intrigued with this peculiar ritual and pried for more information. "So forcing someone to laugh is considered torture?" "It's not really the laughing that's the torture, it's the assault on our overly sensitive nerves that's the torture. Some can't tolerate it as well as others. Which is why I always won all the tickle fights in our relationship," Anne winked at the hysterically laughing man below her. "But are the males of your species not genetically stronger than the females? Why does he not just stop you?"

"Well you see when someone as ticklish as this guy gets tickled it physically weakens them. They lose all their strength, and really just become powerless to do anything about it. Of course you don't want to take it too far, though they'll usually let you know when they've had enough. So what do you say, Eddie?" She directed her attention back to him and drilled her fingers wildly into his hips while he frantically kicked his legs about. "Heehehahahaha! Nohoho more, AahahAnne! I'm sorry! I gihihihive!" "Alright, I suppose you've learned your lesson now," Anne smirked and finally showed mercy, halting her devilish hands and scooting back off of her victim. "Sure. For...For now...I guess," Eddie panted as he slowly sat up with a crimson smile, "I should probably warn Dan about your abuse." "Don't worry about him. He can hold his own, unlike you. And for the record, he gets laid plenty," she teased, playfully squeezing his arm before getting to her feet and brushing down her clothes.

Delighted with this new information, Venom nodded through his long-toothed grin. "We like this tickles thing." "No, we do not!" Eddie glared at the symbiote peeking over his shoulder causing Anne to chuckle at their banter. "Well I will leave you two lovers be. I've got dinner reservations with Dan tonight."

Eddie got up to escort her to the front door as Venom immediately jumped at the chance for a meal, shoving his head between Anne and the door . "We will come too!"

Eddie rolled his eyes and firmly pushed him out of the way to open the door so Anne could step out. "No, we will not."

"But we is hungry!"

"Goodnight Anne, I'll call you tomorrow," he waved and gently shut the door behind her all the while Venom continued to protest. "We must eat! We is wasting away!" "I've got some tater tots in the freezer. Will that shut you up?"

"......Yes. For now." A COUPLE HOURS LATER...... "Eddie..."

"What?" "Hungry!!" "We'll eat later, first I gotta loosen up my mind a bit. Mrs. Chen says it's good for me," Eddie brushed him off as he stretched out his arms, getting ready for a meditation session. "HUNGRY!!"

"Soon alright? Just give me a few minutes to myself for once," he settled down on the floor with his eyes closed, laid out on his back and extended his legs. Now Venom was getting impatient as his head emerged out of Eddie's stomach. "WE EAT NOW!! OR I EAT THIS APPETIZING LIVER OF YOURS!!"

Eddie gave an internal eye roll. "And then we both die. Good job, genius. Now just shut up, ya parasite, I'm trying to concentrate." "PARASITE?!?!"

"You heard me," Eddie smirked, knowing that Venom hated being referred to in that way. "APOLOGIZE!!"

"Nope. Not this time, pal."

"Say it, or I will make you say it!"

Eddie only scoffed again and opened his eyes to give him an annoyed look. "What, you're gonna hurt me? Like I said, if I die then you die."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt us....," Venom grinned and put his plan into motion. "Whoa whoa, hey! Hey! What are you doing?!" Eddie yelped as black slime leaked out of him before wrapping around his arms and legs to hold him down in place. He thrashed and pulled with all his might, but found he was now very stuck.

"Do you take it back?"

"Not a chance! Now let go of me!" "This is your last warning, say you're sorry, or I will give you...," the alien paused for dramatic effect, "...the tickles."

"You'll WHAT?!" Eddie's eyes widened in panic, "Oh no, don't you even think about tickling me, Venom!"

"So I'm not a parasite then?"

Eddie was feeling too stubborn at the moment to just let Venom win this without a fight. "Uh yeah, actually you are! Just look it up in the dictionary! It probably even has your picture too!" He realized that last jab at his symbiote companion was too much when he received an enraged snarl. "HOW DARE YOU!!" Several black tendrils quickly emerged out of Eddie's body before curling back in towards his torso. "But it's the truuu-aah! Ow oww, hey! That kinda hurts, man! You're doing it too hard!" "Oh sorry, a lighter touch then? Like this?"

The feelers probing into his sides lessened the pressure to more of a light massage as the man nodded and began to giggle. "Yeah...hehehee....yeah, like that," Eddie suddenly realized that he was unintentionally coaching Venom on how to tickle him and immediately tried to backpedal, "I MEAN NO! No no, nohohot like thaahaat! Hahahahaa, absolutely not like thaahaahaat!" "So exactly like that? Seems to be working quite well."

He increased the speed, making it feel like hundreds of tiny fingers tickling all along the sides of his helplessly struggling captive. "Venom, nohohoo please! Ahahahah, I'm ssss...so ticklish! Ihihit's nohot funny!"

"Actually it is kind of funny," the symbiote chuckled to himself; amused by the noises Eddie was making and by how he squirmed around. "I haahaate yoohoohooou!!" "We know that's a lie," Venom licked his teeth in delight when Eddie shrieked as he directed the dark tentacles to wiggle up under his arms as he had seen Anne do. "Baahaha!! No, not thehehere!! Stahahahaaap!!" Eddie's head was thrown back as he howled with uncontrolled laughter, knowing he was completely at Venom's mercy. "I...I'm go-haha-nna kill yoo-hoou...ahehehehahah...stu-hoo-pid parasite!!" "Now you've done it, Eddie!" At this point Venom was enjoying this too much to be angry, and just concentrated all his efforts into getting his friend to give in and apologize. He noticed that his quarry's t-shirt had slid up from all the writhing he was doing, exposing his stomach and quickly giving the alien a new idea. "You know if you don't feed me soon I may just start eating you from the outside. Now what have we here? Oooh what a tasty looking belly!" Using his tongue as an extra appendage he gently licked over Eddie's lower abdomen, and circled around his navel, instantly receiving hysterical squeals throughout all the laughter.

"Eeeheeheehehehehe!! Whahahat the hell-ahehaha-ahare you doing?! Thaa...Thaahaat's so-ho grohohohoss!!" "Mmmm, actually you're quite delicious. Maybe I will eat you after all," he leaned in close and ran his tongue up the side of Eddie's face in an attempt at intimidation, but Eddie was far past ever being afraid of him. "Go aheheheead!! Hahahaa!! Anything is b...behehetter thahaan this!!"

"Nah, I can't do that. What would I do without you, Eddie? This Earth is much more fun having you alive," he withdrew the black ooze from the journalist's torso in a momentary break as poor Eddie gasped for air. "Could you...Could you stop sl....slobbering all over me now?" "Don't be silly, we know you like it," Venom smiled and teasingly waved his dripping tongue near Eddie's disgusted face before continuing, "So Eddie, anywhere else you are ticklish that you'd like to share?"

Unable to stop the thought that immediately popped into his head, Eddie knew he was in trouble since Venom had total access to his mind. "Uh oh...Wait wait, that's not what I meant to think of!"

He watched in horror as Venom grinned and the black gooey mass began to move down his legs; headed right for his bare feet. He quickly decided that he had to apologize now or he was doomed. "No no no, Venom, don't! Please! Don't touch my feet! I'm sorry, ok! I'm sorry!"

The symbiote paused, hovering inches away from his new target. "What was that?"

"I'm really really sorry I called you a parasite! I take it all back!"

Eddie was sweating bullets as Venom stayed quiet for several moments, thinking it over before finally nodding. "Hmmm...alright, your apology is accepted."

Eddie sighed in relief as he let his head fall back against the floor. "Thanks, buddy. I really couldn't stand it if ya..." "But for future reference I'm afraid we'll still have to do a test," the symbiote smiled evilly as Eddie heard this and immediately tried to bolt, but unfortunately he was still being restrained firmly on his back with no hope of escape. "No wait! I'll do anything! I'll cook you some more tater tots! I'll get you chocolate too! Lots of it! I'll even let you bite someone's head off! Or you want to eat a whole person?! I'll let you eat a person! Just don't tickle my-AAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!"

Venom had formed his ooze into hands that were now scratching their slimy fingers over every inch of Eddie's bare soles. "Hahahahah aaaheheeheehehah!! Nohohooo!! I...I tohold yooohooou I wahahas so-hahaha-rry!! Stohahahahahooop!!" "Sounds like we have hit the jackpot," Venom teased with Eddie desperately begging for mercy as the goo was liquefied to squirm up between his toes. "Thaahaahaat tickles!! Teehehahahaha!! It tihihihickles sohohoo baahaaad!! Pl...Please!! No-ho mohohore!!" He was a hysterical mess as tears crept out his eyes, still desperately trying to break free. "Hehe, this weakness you humans have is certainly entertaining. I've never seen anything like it." "Veh....Venom!! I'm behehegging yooooooou!! Gahahaahaaha!! I caahaa-n't breeheeheeeathe!! You're kihihilling meeee!!" "Killing you?!" The symbiote stopped immediately as concern overtook him, and he began wrapping Eddie's entire body up in the black ooze, "Don't worry! We will heal you!"

Eddie wanted to wave him off, but he was too exhausted to even lift a hand so instead he just briefly shook his head. "No, just....just get off and let me....lay here....for a minute...and...catch.....my breath," he didn't move as Venom slithered off of him and remained quiet until he started to regain his energy. "Did I go too far?"

Eddie breathed out a sigh and finally was able to stand up slowly. "Don't worry, you weren't literally killing me. But yeah, you kinda did go a little far."

"Well you wouldn't feed us! And then you called me that....name," Venom growled a little as he draped himself across Eddie's shoulders, making his friend feel bad at how offended he looked. "Well I sure ain't gonna be able to meditate now after all that so I'll get you fed soon enough. But I'll say it again, I'm sorry for calling you that, buddy. Forgive me?"

Venom knew he really meant it. Eddie always seemed pretty genuine about expressing his feelings, and him asking for forgiveness made the symbiote perk right up. "Of course, Eddie. We love Eddie," he gently flicked his tongue under Eddie's chin as the man rolled his eyes with a smile. "Yeah, I know. You're not too bad yourself. Other than tickle torturing me like that."

"It was well deserved, if I'm to understanding it's purpose correctly. If you insult me then I'm allowed to get my revenge," he grinned as Eddie chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "Heh, I guess. Though it never took much with Anne. She used to find whatever reason she could to tickle me half crazy," he shuddered a little just thinking about how merciless she could be. "We like her. Besides you, she is one of the few people on this planet that we would never try to eat." "Well I can see why. You've both got some evil similarities between you," Eddie shook his head as he began to rummage through his freezer. "Soooo looks like we're all out of tater tots. I'll have to pick some up tomorrow. How about for tonight I order us a pizza or two?"

"Pizza?"

"Yeah, you'll like it," he closed the freezer as he walked across the room to sit on his couch, "I'll have them put every meat you can think of on it." "Like the still bleeding flesh of humans?"

Venom sounded hopeful while Eddie just blinked incredulously. "Uhh.....no.....I meant like sausage, pepperoni, bacon..."

"But all that is made from dead things!"

"Well get used to it. My diet consists of eating a lot of dead things. Or you can starve, up to you," he shrugged as he reached in his pocket to pull out his cell phone, while the alien practically pouted as he stared down at the floor. "....I will try it." "Thought so. Now keep quiet while I order this," Eddie shushed him with a finger to his lips as he dialed a number on his phone, "Yeah hi, I'd like to order delivery....two larges; one all meat, and the other with-Ahaha!"

He barked out a laugh as Venom briefly wriggled a tendril under his arm, glaring at the smirking alien before tightly clamping his arms against his sides and turning his attention back to the person on the phone. "Sorry about that. So that was one all meat, and the other just make a combination with extra mushroo-hoooms! Dammit, ya parasi...!" He immediately cut himself off before he could finish as he looked nervously over at the annoyed symbiote. "Eddie....," he hissed while Eddie quickly tried to finish his phone conversation. "Uhhh...nope that's it! So thirty minutes?! Okthanksbye," he hastily hung up the phone as he prepared to explain himself, "Hey, you were messing with me! And I don't mean nothing by it!"

"You called me a..." A snarl was building up as Eddie continued to clarify. "C'mon! It's just a nickname! Like a term of endearment!" "...Endearment?" Venom looked at him with skeptical eyes, not fully grasping the concept. "Yeah, you know 'cause you're my friend, and that's just something friends do. It just means I like you is all," Eddie's voice had softened up a little to try to prove his sincerity. In the beginning he wasn't at all thrilled about having an alien invade his body, but once they had come to understand each other their bond began to develop, and now Eddie couldn't imagine his life without the symbiote. He knew Venom felt the same with how he replied. "Well when you put it that way, ok. I guess we'll allow it after all." It would have almost been a sweet moment had Eddie not decided to kill it. "Or if you really want I can come up with something else. Now what's another word for 'parasite'? Bloodsucker? Leech? Uh, freeloader? Yeah, I think freeloader is pretty accurate."

"........"

"Ahahahaa, I'm sorry! I'm sorryeeheeheehee! It wahas a johohoke!"

Several black tentacles had crept out and were wriggling mercilessly into his ribs and over his stomach, making Eddie topple over onto his side from laughing so hard. Though with Venom being attached to him there would never be any escaping from the tickling. "Let's see if we don't kill you this time. Thirty minutes until that pizza stuff gets here, right? Perfect."

[hvndcvffed]

“ let me just –– can you –– uh. ”  grizz clears his throat and raises a finger. because this? oh, boy. stomaching this shit without laughing mandates a breather.  “ hold that thought for a moment while i collect myself. s’been quite the day and i want to give you my undivided attention. ”

or, alternatively :  yo yo yo, party people ! guess who finally made it ?  i’m lev / linc ( she/her/hers ) , comin’ atchu from the ever so lovely est timezone with ya boy, the tru ledge, grizz visser! click on that read more to read some headcanons i’ve got goin’ for west ham’s resident handcuff-owning, intellectual beb !

[   g    r   i   z    z        v    i     s     s     e    r    ––    B O Y   O N   F I R E .

✔ ┊❝ ( nick robinson. 18. he/him &. cismale ) rumor around town is that gareth “grizz” visser was on one of the buses that left for the field trip. they’re the eighteen year old that resides in new ham. over the summer news spread that he purposely botched his chances to win a football scholarship to a local uni because he applied to several ivies behind his parents’ backs, but who knows if that’s true or not? what we do know is that their friends describe them as well-read & piquant, but who knows when they’re known to be elusive & misanthropé from time to time. 

( &&. general information )

full name: gareth visser

nickname(s) or alias: grizz

preferred name: grizz –– call him gareth and he will... not be happy.

current age: eighteen

astrological sign: leo

gender: cismale

preferred pronouns: he/him

sexual preference: homosexual ( but closeted )

romantic preference: demiromantic

home environment: a quaint three-bed / two-bath house with his parents. a positive, almost sickeningly sweet home: family portraits all over the place, cheesy “ home is where the heart is ” décor all around from his mother’s many trips to pier 1 imports.

current occupation: student, student athlete.

language(s) spoken: english, french, a tad of latin. wants to learn more hebrew, but that shit is complicated as heck.

native language: english.

current relationship status: single.

( &&. background )

reason behind name: y’know, he’s asked his parents this countless times. why gareth? why. gareth. and each time he’s just gotten the same vague response: they liked it. it sounded respectable. ack.

birth order: only child.

ethnicity: american. west ham born & raised, baby!

nationality: american.

religion: agnostic. goes to church with his mother as a way to keep the peace, but... the idea of a god out there saying homosexuality’s a sin gives him a bad taste in his mouth. he’d rather discount his whole existence and uphold morality than accept that there’s a bigoted big guy in the sky. sees the bible more as a literary exercise to instill human value. did jesus really walk on water? heck no. but it makes a good fable.

political views: very, very liberal. doesn’t subscribe to labels, but as close to democratic socialist as you can get in this country without causing riots. anti-brexit. anti-trump. anti-bullshit, basically. maybe socialism or communism done right wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

financial status: very, very comfortable. his parents earn well and know how to save / spend frugally. the vissers are modest in living so they can pour more into experience. for grizz’s twelfth birthday, his parents took him hiking through the adirondacks. they’ve gone on some awesome trips together, and most of their vacations include some aspect of super cool nature. unbeknownst to grizz, his parents’ planned grad gift for him was a month-long backpacking tour through new zealand.

hometown: west ham, connecticut. cool beans.

level of education: high school senior. but he’s one of the learned folk: ap literature on lock. he took some college courses at the local community college last summer, because his job as a summer camp counselor wasn’t exactly intellectually stimulating. leading kids on hikes is fun ‘n all, but... not as engaging as college-level philosophy.

( &&. physical appearance )

looks like (or face claim, if applicable): nick robinson. with longer hair. reference [ here ] . 

height: 6′0 ( jack’s shorter, but nick’s my main fc i’m workin’ with so i decide to bump it up. plus, height? football? makes sense. )

weight: 158 lbs

shoe size: 10.5

figure/build: athletic build. muscular. broad shoulders, lean waist.

hair colour: deep, deep brown. almost black. natural.

hair length: about jaw-length. curly. ( REFERENCE. )

eye colour: brown with an overlay of hazel-y jade-green. his campers over the summer compared his eyes to moss a lot. it kinda felt badass. “moss boss” had a ring to it.

glasses?: nope. 20/20 vision. but he’s been known to steal friends’ glasses sometimes, just for funsies.

skin tone: light, but not necessarily pale – spends a lot of time outdoors. no freckles.

tattoos: none, yet. would love to get a quote from walden. or a pine tree, if it wasn’t so cliche.

piercings: none. but getting an ear pierced has always intrigued him.

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: some miscellaneous scars on his hands from whittling incidents growing up. a faint line across his arm from stitches, when he broke it in the peewee football league in fifth grade. 

dominant hand: left-handed, but very recently learned he’s marginally ambidextrous for important tasks.

if painted, what color are their nails?: never painted. he keeps them short.

usual style of clothing: letterman jacket. jeans. tall socks, boots. pants tucked into socks, because why the hell not? flannels, hoodies, utility jackets layered over plain white tees. pendant necklaces, leather bracelets. occasionally he’ll wear a statement button-downs that looks like your grandmother’s upholstery, but somehow it’ll work really well. varsity t-shirts. hats of all varieties. if he could, he’d showcase some edgier styles. but he’s paranoid. he’s got a stanford hoodie buried in his closet. and a yale one, too.

frequently worn jewelry:  leather bracelets. a silver ring strung on a chain, engraved with “ for sylvie, with love ”. he found it on a hike, and... figured he’d be sylvie for a day, or something.

describe their voice, what accent?:  he has a light, gentle voice. a soft autumn breeze. laced with some gravel. strong, resolute. kind.

what is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: often speaks slowly, surely. not always keen to fill silences. but words are some of his favorite devices of deflection. if he’s unsure, he’ll cut himself off, leading to some choppy and hard to follow sentences. he very rarely mumbles. not afraid to speak eloquently, but will certainly match his speaking style to those he’s around, to an extent. rarely seems bothered. he masks it well.

describe their scent: amber, sandalwood, musk. vague hints of cinnamon. 

describe their posture: grizz holds himself proudly. shoulders broad, chin up, chest open. it makes his vulnerable moments very easy to spot.

( &&. legal information )

any speeding tickets?: nope. this kid drives by the book. probably because he very much prefers to walk or bike around town, when he can help it.

have they ever been arrested?: never. he’s only been to the police station once, to drop off some promotional donuts for the homecoming football game.

do they have a criminal record?: nah.

have they committed any violent crimes?: no sir.

property crimes?: no.

traffic crimes?: nope! unless you count accidentally cutting cars off with his bike, because that’s happened a handful of times, when he’s been deep in thought.

other crimes?: just breaking hearts.

( &&. medical information )

blood type: o negative.

date/time of birth: july 26, 1997. 3:23am. during a rainstorm.

place of birth: west ham hospital.

vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal birth.

sex: male

smoker? / drinker? / drug user?: no / yes / marijuana.

addictions: does good lit count?

allergies: sulfur-based antibiotics. bullshit.

ever broken a bone?: his left arm in fifth grade. right foot at the seventh grade dance –– the girl he asked to slow dance tripped and grizz, wanting to show off his cool socks, wound up with a stiletto heel to the talus. ouch. collar bone, freshman year of high school: he climbed a tree to save his neighbor’s cat and slipped.

any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: nope.

any medication regularly taken: allergy meds. sometimes he gets the sniffles.

( &&. personality )

direct quote from them:  UNO.  DOS.  TRES.  QUATRO.

positive traits: charismatic, cunning, introspective, virtuosic.

negative traits: cataclysmic, self-destructive, reckless, careless.

likes: classic literature, trail mix, synth vibes, 60s/70s/80s rock, the beatles, radiohead, faith by george michael. old vinyls. bob ross. vanilla-cinnamon candles and jasmine tea. wind-rustled leaves. fresh fallen rain.

dislikes: bitter coffee. the disappointment just after sunrise. katy perry. cleaning, laundry. the warmer side of the pillow. waking up without a hand to hold. gareth. secrets, but he harbors a few big ones. pretending. hiding. transitively, himself.

strengths: can be quite resolute but sometimes about the wrong things. his ability to analyze and respond to complex literature is… uncanny. intelligence. deduction. survival facts. he’s a postmodern bear grylls trapped in suburbia.

weaknesses: impatience. do-it-yourself attitude.  fear of rejection. fear of acceptance. fear of others. fear of himself. 

insecurities: what if people in west ham discover who he really is? how’s he supposed to postpone that?

fears/phobias:  irrelevancy. book-burning. ignorance. time.

habits:  playing with his fingers. biting his bottom lip and twisting it between his teeth. humming when he thinks no one is listening. going for late-night walks through the emptiest parts of town. staying up ‘til 4am to read and re-read and read again.

quirks: rarely settles his gaze on anything for more than a few seconds, except for other peoples’ eyes. eye contact is probably one of grizz’s biggest conversational strengths. probably why he makes such a good liar, when he needs to. he’ll finish a pint of ice cream and just sit there for over an hour sucking on the spoon, lost in thought. licks his lips when he’s nervous. plays with his hair a lot. you know he’s nervous when he keeps tucking his hair behind his right ear. chuckles to himself, even when things are the pure opposite of funny.

hobbies: jotting notes in book margins. he dabbles in poetry but feels like his shit is too beat-generation to be that cool. wandering through the woods and attempting to generate his own maps, then checking them for accuracy. lighting matches in the cold, mid-evening air just to watch them burn.

guilty pleasure: peanut m&ms. twizzlers. burned marshmallows. apartment tour videos on youtube.

desires: to prove he’s… sometime more than this. something more than a footballer destined to pretend.

wishes: he could come clean about college. wishes he could come clean about himself. wishes he could work up the courage to ask a guy to prom.

secrets: he purposefully botched an interview he had with central connecticut state university’s football recruiter because he doesn’t want to play in college. he wants to go to yale, or stanford, or brown. to study literature. classics. philosophy. his sexuality. but it’s getting harder and harder to keep that locked down.

turn ons: intelligence. genuine, pure intelligence. sharp-witted humor. dimples. dorky laughs. gentle touch. someone who doesn’t bother with worries ‘bout tomorrow.

turn offs:  idiocy. khakis. people with too much pride. line cutters. naggers. people who don’t think the proper way to eat bugles is by fashioning crisp-claws first and pretending to be edward scissorhands. people who overlook adrienne rich’s poetry, or claim dante shouldn’t be taught in school.

lucky number: 0.

pet peeves: hearing people scratch their scalps. sniffly public transit users. people who don’t use earbuds. cold fries. nail-clickers. knuckle-crackers. people who slurp from straws like they’ve never had a drink before in their lives. 

their motto:  “ i’m surrounded by idiots. ”

( &&. favourites )

food: curly fries with cajun seasoning.

drink: half-oreo half-chocolate milkshake. extra whipped cream. two cherries. please.

fast food restaurant: he’s not huge on fast food, but he can fuck with five guys.

flavour: anything chocolate and peanut.

word: fuck !!!  or zephyr: a soft, gentle breeze.

colour:  a nice, deep forest green.

clothing: his letterman jacket. his deep green flannel’s a close second.

accessory: “ for sylvie, with love” . silver ring. he likes pretending he’s sylvie and that someone cared enough to get his name etched into a precious metal forever.

candle scent: the connecticut homesick candle. it smells like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla and fireside bliss. and pine trees. yum.

game: monopoly. but only if he wins.

animal: fish. they’re so graceful.

holiday: halloween. boo.

weather: sunset, just after rain. golden rays peering through deep gray clouds. it makes the greens of trees practically scream against the sky. it’s glorious. it’s heartbreaking. grizz loves it.

season: late fall.

book: le petit prince by antoine de saint-exupéry. it was the last book his grandmother ever read to him, on his fifth christmas eve.

artist: edvard munch. or van gogh, simply because he chopped his ear off and mailed it to his lover. now that’s modern romance.

band/group: the divine comedy, radiohead, pink floyd, the beatles, the rolling stones, the kooks. the avett brothers. belle & sebastian.

song: high and dry, radiohead. elephant, tame impala. anything by the beatles.

movie/film:  mr. nobody. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. the first time little grizz saw alice in wonderland, he wouldn’t shut up about it for two weeks.

tv show: he grew up watching wallace and gromit. he’s still got a soft spot for it.

sport: football.

possession: his dad’s collection of beatles original release vinyls.

number: 0.

person: henry david thoreau.

( &&. skills )

talents: writing, but he won’t admit it. football. wood-whittling. gardening. navigation.

ability to drive a car?: yes.

can they ride a bike?: yes, and will frequently do so with no hands.

do they play any sports?: football.

anything they’re bad at?: juggling. sleeping. pretending to like gross food.

do they have any combat training? why?: grizz once yahoo answered how to punch somebody to the moon, after one of his best friends got made fun of in grade school for accidentally wearing a costume the day before halloween. he’s still waiting for an answer to that post.

( &&. firsts )

childhood memory: waging what was left of his fruit gummies during a game of fireside poker on the first visser camping trip.

crush: matty kerrington, pre-k. his hair smelled like strawberries and his smile reminded grizz of the hot honey that clung to his mum’s spoon after stirring tea. but to this day, he’ll say his first crush was amanda vander-voss, because her hair was pretty in braids and she reminded him of the pretty deer from bambi.

email address: grizzlybear@aol.com

job: camp counselor at a hiking / adventure camp based in west ham.

phone: a nifty samsung with a slide-out keyboard. made him feel like a god.

kiss: jessica winthrop, in a game of third grade truth or dare.

love: tess de luca ( @tessdl )

sexual experience: with jessica winthrop in the woods behind the middle school, three years later. jess got poison ivy in all the wrong places. grizz thought it was hysterical.

( &&. childhood )

best childhood memory?:  honestly? wearing that boa in dance class. his mom was quick to stop that.

worst childhood memory?:  nearly breaking his nose on the neighbor’s front porch, while attempting to ding-dong ditch with his friends. he’s not sure what gave them away more –– his blood staining their pavement, or the fact that he blubbered the whole run home.

what were they like as a child?:  grizz tended to poke his nose into all the wrong matters, landing him in oodles of trouble. he’d steal from the snack cabinet, sketch constellations across the walls… even stole his dad’s old walkman so he could listen to music under his covers past his bedtime. tried to sneak into the library after hours to get his hands on another thoreau novel. but it was all harmless. the vissers weren’t very firm disciplinarians: they just loved that their son was engaged and passionate about knowledge.

any crushes growing up?: oh, loads. more than he’d like to admit.

( &&. this or that )

expensive or inexpensive tastes?: inexpensive, but lasting.

hygienic or unhygienic?: hygenic.

open-minded or close-minded?: open.

introvert or extrovert?: ambivert. thrives in social settings but the mood has to be right.

optimistic or pessimistic?: pessimistic with a weak optimistic veil. pragmatism, is how he’d put it.

daredevil or cautious?: cautious daredevil.

logical or emotional?: a blend of both, but emotions often influence his actions more than he’d like to say.

generous or stingy?: generous.

polite or rude?: polite when it’s socially mandated. but if there’s no threat of repercussions? a bit rude, if he has to be.

book smart or street smart?:  both.

popular or loner?:  popular, by proxy. but grizz vibes with some solid solitude, especially to recharge.

leader or follower?: leader. follower, though, in the high school structure of things. it’s a way to ensure his place and avoid potential fallout. he’ll call his friends out if they’re up to no good, though.

day or night person?: night. definitely night.

cat or dog person?: both! prefers cats just a smidge more.

closet door open or closed while sleeping?: open. maybe his demons wanna cuddle or some shit.

( &&. social media )

do they have a facebook? twitter? instagram? vine? snapchat? tinder/grindr? tumblr? youtube? yes to instagram and (begrudgingly) snapchat.

if so; name on facebook: none.

instagram user: grizzvisser

snapchat user: grizzybear

( &&. musical tastes )

theme song: kimochi warui ( when? when? when? ), car seat headrest. god... get him OUT of this town.

makes them sad: blackbird, the beatles. his grandparents used to sing this when he’d sleep over/ they’d be in the kitchen early in the morning trying to convince him to eat his cereal. they’d change the lyrics and snap slightly off-tempo, all smiles and coaxing gestures. ave maria. he’s not sure why. it inspires melancholia.

makes them dance: hazy miss daisy, kid bloom. anything with a sick beat and erratic synth. take on me, a-ha. good times bad times, led zeppelin. 

loves the most: fool of myself, the band camino. it’s a song he can throw his head back to, close his eyes, and sway in the breeze.

( &&. miscellaneous )

do they have a fake i.d.?: yep, used to, but now that’s not necessary!

are they a virgin?: nope siree!

describe their signature: it’s unapologetic on the page. takes up more room than it should with lateral squiggles and grandiose swirls. G and V are decipherable, but everything else is convoluted by its own physics. a muddled mess. beautiful in its self-collapsing structure.

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?:  he’d outlive everyone. survivalist visser, right here.

do they travel?: yes, but he wants to do more, see more. the grand canyon would be cool. or maybe the alps. he’s always had a dream of hiking yosemite. 

one place they would like to live: anywhere but here.

one place they would like to visit: new zealand. australia. hawaii.

celebrity crush: young johnny depp. emma watson.

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: tic tacs, but never the mint ones. only the odd flavors.

place(s) your character can always be found:  anywhere with trees. rooftops. alleyways. the football field. coffee shops. the local diner. roadside sunflower fields. his parents’ garden.

when does your character like to wake up?:  with the sun.

what’s your character’s morning routine?: blink at the ceiling for about 20 minutes. wash his face, brush his teeth. annotate a few lines of whatever book he’s reading. push-ups, pull-ups, crunches. run a mile or two. rush into the shower. grab his lunch from the fridge and bike to school (and barely make it).

what does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?:  grizz’s mom loves to cook, so they’re always trying some new paleo trend. some of it’s awful. but he’ll try to eat it and if he can’t, he’ll sneak a granola bar later. if the school’s serving smiley face fries, he’ll have those. he really likes green apples and those little clementines.

how does your character spend their free days?:  hiking. reading. writing. lying in the sun and just... thinking. lately, he’s been daydreaming a lot about an ivy league education. something more engaging than west ham’s high school snoozefest.

what’s your character’s bedtime routine?:  some kind of pre-bed stretching routine. wash his face, brush his teeth, curl up in bed with a book. fall asleep with it still open on his chest.

what does your character wear to bed?: boxers and a t-shirt.

if your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: the past. mistakes. time ticking away.

what is their idea of perfect happiness?: he’s still workin’ on that bit.

on what occasions do they lie?:  very rarely, if he can help it.

most marked characteristic: his hair. it’s all russet waves. untamed. some days, his hair truly has a mind of its own. it screams free spirit. it doesn’t let on that, inside, his soul is burning.

what is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?:  honestly? it’s not so much what he’d want to change about himself as it is about this town. 

how would they like to die?:  well-read.

do they snore? not unless he’s got a head cold. then there may be a few soft snores here and there.

can they curl their tongue?: yes!

can they whistle?: yes indeed!

do they believe in the supernatural?: not really. but it’s fun to indulge on halloween.  did he move your cup, or did the ghouls?!  s p o o k y .

has anyone ever broken their heart?:  no. haven’t had the opportunity to.

have they ever broken anyone’s heart?:  yes. little marsha lapone’s, at summer camp. she was 8, he’s 18. he told her there was no chance, and she cried into her pb&j. tough.

are they squeamish?: no. 

have they ever seen anyone die? what happened?: just in films.

are they a lightweight?: heck no.

that was a very lengthy thing but... yeah! hit me up for plots! i’m gonna get to crafting and replying to starters v shortly!

[whompingcauldron]

BULLY - Sirius Black

SIRIUS BLACK X READER

WARNINGS: None

PROMPT: Where Sirius apologises

MASTERLIST

Your dark robes swayed, as you entered the dining hall you had missed so much. The floating candles made the bewitched ceiling glow, you sat down with your best friends; Marlene McKinnon and Lily Evans, two strikingly beautiful girls, the three of you hit off since you shared a dormitory together.

Your stomach grumbled as your E/C eyes flicked from the large wooden door to your best friends, Marlene was twirling a golden lock around her wand and Lily's nose was stuck into a book.

Finally, the doors flung open, nervous first years stumbled in, anxious, nervous, for what was about to happen, you always enjoyed this typical yearly scene, it amused you to see these eleven and twelve-year-olds stressed about getting sorted. At the end of the table, were the one and only; Marauders, a group of four boys who practically ruled the school. The leader; James Potter was an arrogant git, who bullied Severus Snape, Lily's friend, and others, the genuinely smart and friendly one; Remus Lupin, he was a good student and took care of his friends, though after a certain period of time he would come to school, covered in scars and bruises, it caused a lot of gossips, next was the outcast; Peter Pettigrew; a short (he has a strong resemblance to a rat as Marlene had stated) boy with small watery eyes, he trailed behind those three boys constantly, and finally, the womaniser; Sirius Black; girls drooled all over him, constantly trying to lure him into their bed, only a few girls had managed to get him alone, but it was nothing serious. The Marauders were snickering and howling with laughter, they always seemed to be up to something, and that something wasn't good.

Gryffindor had gained thirteen new pupils, you hoped that they'd make Godric Gryffindor proud, and yourself, you were a prefect and very proud of that. Remus Lupin was also a prefect, so you spent most of your duties with him, he was kind to you and never seemed to bore you, he'd tell you about something stupid Peter had said, or how James had yet again, failed to seduce Lily. This, of course, you already knew, Lily ranted about how he had the brain of a common toad, that he was badly mannered and that he should give up. Halfway through Dumbledore's speech, Sirius groaned loudly, which made everyone turn to him.

▬▬▬▬▬

'Well, Mr Black, you are right on queue as I was about to say; Let the feast, begin!' cheered the professor.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched the first years' jaws drop in awe, the goblets filled themselves with sweet pumpkin juice, plates stacked with mounds of delicious food, and absolutely mouth-watering pudding. You and your best friends chatted supper away, mouths stuffed with pies, the three of you talked about a wide variety of topics. Bedtime arrived soon, tonight was the only night where you wouldn't be on duty, you planned to spend the night engulfing sweets and gossiping.

▬▬▬▬▬

Morning arrived at a supersonic speed, you dragged your tired self out of bed and into the bathroom, eyeing your messy reflection, vivid purple under-eye bags could be seen along with your h/c hair tangled. You cleaned yourself up and put on your perfectly folded uniform, you'd always wondered who did all of this work. It was quite early and no one was really awake, so you took 'Witch Weekly' and headed down to the common room, the sizzling logs from the fire slightly shifted as the fire crackled. Indulged into your magazine, reading the advice column, you didn't notice the four infamous Marauders walk into the room, Sirius' silky black hair caught your attention and you looked up from your book, he noticed you looking and winked at you and you inaudibly gagged. Remus furrowed his brows at Sirius and turned to you.

'Oh, hey Y/N," he waved at you, 'we've got our prefect duties later don't forget.'

'Yep, I know.' you sighed,

'Well, catch you later, bye!'

You watched as they scrambled out the circular room, not even bothering to know what they were up to. The room glowed a gorgeous golden colour as the roaring fire illuminated it, you eyed the scarlet tapestries and the bulletin board, that was soon to be covered in important notices about Hogsmeade, N.E.W.T.S, O.W.L.S and such. Swinging your legs over the squashy armchair you sat in, you walked over to the tall grandfather clock by the entrance and read the time; 7:20 AM, almost time for breakfast. Walking out of the portrait hole, clenching your magazine and you're worn out satchel that slouched over your left shoulder, hopping onto a moving staircase, you made your way down to breakfast.

▬▬▬▬▬

Pouring yourself some Pixie Puffs, you listened carefully to Lily.

'It's a rather interesting subject, I mean why do we keep certain animals as pets when they're obviously dangerous.'

'Well, maybe because there's no record of them doing no harm.' suggested Marlene,

'Possibly. But, I think it's alright if the person who's taking care of them was a professional.' you said honestly.

Lily rolled her eyes, ready to prove you wrong, but Marlene quickly interrupted.

'Anyways, have you heard about Frank and Alice?'

'What about them?' asked Lily.

You were suddenly very intrigued, Marlene leaned in, ready to spill the tea.

'Rumour has it that, she'd been waiting all summer for him to ask her out, eventually, she got sick and tired of lying there day after day waiting for him to ask her, soooo...'

'So? Come on, finish!' you urged,

'Wait, don't tell me-'

But before Lily could finish, Marlene squealed like a piglet.

'She asked him out! And, to no surprise, he said yes!'

'Merlin's beard! Are you serious?' you croaked, choking on your cereal,

'I was about to ask if she'd done that.' laughed the auburn-haired girl.

▬▬▬▬▬

After a few of your morning classes, you had a free period, so the three of you headed off to the Clock Tower Courtyard, hoping to be able to start your essay on Veritaserum. It was a calm day, and you wanted to be in advance, although you knew that Marlene would start getting bored and boundlessly blab to you about her struggles with boys. Sitting down on the freshly mown grass, you pulled out a spare book and placed it on your lap, layering on a brand new piece of parchment, grabbing your ink you dipped it into some ink and started scribbling on information.

halfway through your essay, you noticed two notorious boys hexing a Slytherin boy, Sirius and James versus Severus, Lily shot up, storming up to them, boiling with rage, you quickly grabbed her arm.

'Let me take care of this, otherwise, Potter'll be asking you out, again.' you told her.

She pursed her lips and slightly nodded, sitting back down next to Marlene, who was impatiently watching you march off.

'Leave him alone!' you barked,

'L/N, come to ruin our free period?' snarled James,

'You two better stop now, or I'll be sending you off to detention with Professor McGonagall in a shoebox.' you threatened,

'Why don't you tail along your two little friends, as usual, seems to be the only good thing you do.' implied Sirius.

'You'll regret saying that.' you bellowed,

'What're you gonna do, huh? Turn me into a matchstick, very harmful.' teased the boy.

You growled loudly and flicked your wand, sending Sirius flying, pointing it at James, he backed up slightly, holding his hands up in surrender.

'Alright, alright, relax.'

Stomping off, you snatched up your books and ran up to the astronomy tower, you could feel the steam blowing out of your ears and nose, glaring at people who looked at you oddly, you were going to hide in the library but right now you needed fresh air. A couple of students and teachers tried to ask you what was wrong but you ignored them.

Perched on the railing, head in your palms, you stared at the passing students. Breathing in the fresh air, you relaxed. After a few minutes, you heard footsteps shuffle behind you, swiftly turning around, your eyes met the eyes a boy's grey ones, a boy just a few minutes you had hexed.

'What do you want?' you scowled,

'I just wanted to say, to say sorry.'

'Since when does the Sirius Black apologise?' you asked, moving closer to him,

'Ever since he's developed a crush on the Y/N L/N.' said Sirius lightly smiling.

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could say anything, Sirius literally took the breath out of you, he placed his rough lips on your soft ones. The kiss was awkward at first, but it slowly melted into something passionate yet gentle, you felt him grin into the kiss, slowly pulling away.

'Well, what are we?' you questioned,

'Not quite sure, but we'll figure it out.' he responded,

Taking your hand in his and placing a weak kiss on the back of your hand.

'I know we will'

▬▬▬▬

A/N: I don't really like the ending, but hope you enjoyed it! <3

[notthetoothfairy]

Taking Detours

It’s a certain someone’s birthday!!! And since that certain someone is my usual beta reader, please excuse possible typos and weird sentences.

@a-simple-rainbow - I have a weird feeling you once kind of prompted me to write Kurt breaking into Blaine’s apartment or vice versa? But even if you didn’t, that’s what I wrote, sort of, so just roll with it! :D Happy birthday, love! ♥

Read on AO3

“You what?!” Kurt asks Rachel again, exasperated. “After I just lost my keys to Santana because it was my turn to lend her mine and she had to take a spontaneous trip to Ohio to make Brittany jealous or whatever she is doing this time? Ugh.”

Rachel is wringing her hands with a miserable grimace.

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” she repeats. “I… I really screwed up. I had them in my coat but the one I wore yesterday, not this one – and I didn’t even think that the other key is in Ohio.” Her eyes widen. “Oh god, do you think we’ll have to sleep on the streets?!”

Kurt eyes her in annoyance. “No, Rachel, we’re going to sleep in our apartment.” He sighs, looking the outside wall in front of them up and down. “We just need to find a way to get up that fire escape.”

He glances around, finds a trash can and decides that it’ll have to do. He makes his way over there and ignores Rachel as she impatiently tugs on his jacket.

“Have you lost your mind, Kurt?! Even if you get up there – which I doubt, by the way – how will you get into the apartment?”

Kurt positions the trash can just right so he is right below the ladder.

“I left my window open to get some fresh air,” he says, knowing perfectly well that it will drive Rachel crazy.

Sure enough she starts ranting about how she hates coming back to a freezing apartment, and that a quick gush of air for about ten minutes every morning is enough.

Kurt looks down from where he has climbed onto the trash can. He cocks an eyebrow at Rachel.

“Do you want to continue with your little tirade or will you at one point start being grateful that I am singlehandedly saving you the trouble of finding shelter tonight?” he asks.

Rachel frowns and huffs but she shuts up nonetheless.

“Now give me a little support, please?” Kurt requests, mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to do. “I don’t want to die because you were too careless with the keys.”

About five tries of jumping and missing, accompanied without fail by a horrified shriek from Rachel. The sixth time, though, Kurt manages to hold on to the ladder and pull himself up (all thanks to his new gym routine). This time, Rachel cheers and Kurt rolls his eyes at her one last time before climbing up all the way and continuing up the stairs.

He wishes he was wearing a bit less tight pants, though, because climbing flights after flights of stairs turns out to be quite exhausting. He’s already thrown his jacket down to where Rachel is watching him, but he’s not about to lose any more clothes. He must already look like a lunatic burglar.

Then again, it’s New York.

Kurt keeps counting floors as he makes his way up higher. Having the loft apartment, of course they are at the very top, but something doesn’t add up as Kurt reaches the end of the fire escape. A quick glance through the window in front of him tells him he’s made a mistake because he does not recognize the furniture.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Wrong side of the house, really? Really, Kurt?!”

He looks down and, oh, wow, he’s high up. How has he not looked down before now? He grabs the handrail a bit tighter.

“Fuck, fuck fuck.” Kurt grits his teeth. “Okay, you have two options. Die up here or get back down there…” As he turns around, another window catches his eye. “Or…” He shouldn’t. But it’s opened just slightly and it would be so easy to just slide it up all the way and quickly get this all over with.

Well, that’s the pro. The con is that he might give someone a heart attack. What if it’s an elderly lady?

But maybe… maybe nobody will even see him. Maybe this person isn’t even home – maybe they’re just fresh air enthusiasts like Kurt.

And maybe Kurt is a coward who can’t go back down now that he’s climbed up so far and the adrenaline is all used up, and he’s realizing he is more afraid of heights than he thought.

“I’m insane, I’m so insane,” he tells himself as he slides the window up quietly and climbs into an apartment that is most definitely not his.

He wishes it were his a little bit because the first thing he spots next to a cozy-looking queen bed is an acoustic piano, a guitar and lots and lots of sheet music neatly stacked on an alphabetized shelf. Kurt’s halfway on his way to inspect the collection when he remembers his mission and turns back to the room’s door.

He opens the door with care, painfully aware that he is basically breaking and entering, even if for good reasons. He gulps and peers out the door. Another big room, connected to an open kitchen space. Alright, this must be the living room then. Kurt’s eyes flit around and find the main entrance quickly. That must be it, the door with the shoe rack and the keys on the cabinet…

As he moves toward it, a door to his left suddenly opens and a half-naked guy comes out, eyes so focused on tightening his towel that he misses Kurt.

“Sam?” the owner of the gorgeous apartment calls out. “Was that you? Did you forget something?”

Kurt cringes. He doesn’t want to get beaten up, and the guy looks like he could be up for the job judging by those arms and back, but he can’t also not say anything… what if he still gets caught and looks even more guilty than he already is?

“Uhm,” he says dumbly, for a lack of better words. “No, it’s-”

The guy yells and jumps at the sudden sound behind him, and – okay, wow, talk about a heart attack, because the towel falls as he turns around and that’s definitely something Kurt did not expect to see when he broke into the apartment.

For god’s sake, he thought it would be an elderly lady. But no, that’s so not the anatomy of an elderly lady.

Kurt chokes on his words, beet red, and slaps his hand over his eyes.

The guy scrambles to get his towel back up before hissing, “What the fuck?! Who the hell are you and why are you in my apartment?!”

Kurt peeks through his fingers and, okay, it’s semi-safe. He lowers his hand – but once he gets a closer look at the guys face, he suddenly wishes he would have just fallen off the stupid fire escape.

That’s none other than Blaine Anderson, the guy from 7B, who always causes a lot of elbowing from Rachel and crude jokes about his sex life from Santana whenever he passes and Kurt yet again fails to introduce himself.

Blaine seems to realize he’s seen Kurt around at the same time.

“Wait, you’re that guy – from the loft, right…?” he asks, looking more confused than ever.

“Yes, uh, hi,” Kurt manages to say, curses himself for all the awkwardness that he’s about to endure. “God, I am so sorry about this.”

Blaine shifts around uncomfortably, his dark eyebrows furrowed so deep that his whole face is scrunched up.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing in my apartment? How did you even get in?” His face falls all of a sudden. “Are you stalking me?!”

“What?! No!” Kurt exclaims, horrified at the thought. “Oh, no, no, no, I’m not here on purpose, especially not on that purpose, I swear. Please believe me. Please, Blaine, just let me explain.”

Blaine opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on, “You know my name.”

Oh, shit.

“Uhhhh.” Kurt closes his eyes. “Okay, not making a good case for myself here.” He blinks one eye open to gauge Blaine’s reaction. “At least you seem to have decided I’m not dangerous.”

“Actually, I’m not entirely convinced,” Blaine says honestly, grabbing his phone from the table next to him. “But I know who you are, too, Kurt Hummel. So I can report you to the police if need be.”

“Wait, how do you know my-” Kurt starts but Blaine glares at him and he shuts up. “Right. Not the point. Explanation.” He bites his lip, takes a deep breath, and just goes for the truth. “Would you believe me if I told you that my crazy roommates have issues with taking good care of keys and left us locked out of the apartment so that I had to climb up a flight of stairs on the fire escape only to realize that I was on the wrong side of the building and discovered I’m actually a bit scared of heights so I decided to do the dumb thing and climb into a random stranger’s apartment hoping nobody would be there and my little stunt here would go unnoticed?”

He gets all of that out in record speed – come to think of it, he hasn’t breathed since steeling himself for that little speech, so maybe time to do that – and shoots Blaine a pleading look.

“Okay, wait a second, that was really fast,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “You’re locked out of your apartment?”

“Yes.”

“And instead of calling a locksmith you decided to climb up the fire escape?”

Kurt blinks. “… yes?”

“Okay…” Blaine acknowledges his stupidity with an amused chuckle. “And then you couldn’t get back down and you thought it would be better to potentially get caught as a burglar than just climb down?”

“I guess…” Kurt says with a frustrated sigh.

“And you do realize that you’re still ending up on the wrong side of your apartment door once you’ve made it through mine?”

Kurt purses his lips and wants to die in a hole somewhere.

“Uhm,” he says. “I hadn’t even gotten that far.”

They stare at each other in silence for another moment. Until Blaine just starts shaking with laughter.

“Okay, this is officially hilarious,” he gets out in between little hiccupping laughs that are absolutely adorable, though Kurt’s doing his best to ignore that. “Are you aware that I just dropped my towel in front of my neighbor and I still somehow managed to not have made the biggest fool of myself in this scenario?”

Kurt lets out an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry!”

“Thank you,” Blaine says, still laughing. “At least you’re a very polite burglar.”

“Not a burglar,” Kurt whines. “Just incredibly stupid.”

Blaine shrugs. “You did enter my house without permission.”

“God, please don’t call the police on me.”

“Not planning to.” Blaine smiles and puts his phone back on the table. “I don’t think anyone would have been able to make up a story like that on the spot. Besides, you look way too innocent and cute – they probably wouldn’t believe me if I tell them you broke in.” He gulps all of a sudden and fidgets with his towel. “Uhm, anyway, uh… would you mind if I… just stepped out to…?”

“Please,” Kurt says, voice wavering.

He’s been trying hard not to ogle Blaine even now that they’ve established Kurt’s not actually a serial killer or total creep. Though Kurt’s not so sure about the latter himself. He did see Blaine naked, after all, and he’s kind of failing the not-ogling thing.

He blames the little droplets of water still drying only slowly on Blaine’s chest.

And also, hello, Blaine just called him cute. Kurt blames that, too.

Blaine steps around him awkwardly and slips through the door behind Kurt. Ah, so the amazing music room is his. Figures. If Kurt can’t trust his judgment for appropriate courses of action anymore, at least he still has his impeccable taste in men.

Kurt groans silently as he hears the door behind him close. He really stepped in it with his little stunt. Not to mention he’s still locked out of his apartment, as Blaine pointed out so aptly.

But Kurt has no time to ponder this in detail as Blaine comes back out of his room in a matter of minutes, dressed in jeans and a simple polo shirt. He has to move around Kurt again, and Kurt mentally slaps himself – repeatedly.

“Jeez, why did I just keep standing here?” he wonders out loud. To Blaine, he says, “Again, I am so sorry. I… I’ve caused enough damage, I – I can just show myself out, I guess.”

“Right, right…” Blaine mutters, running a hand through his hair. “What about your dilemma, though?”

“Huh?” Kurt is really losing the ability to think with the way Blaine’s eyes are trained on him with just the right amount of care and concern, and oh… “Dilemma…? Oh!” He rolls his eyes at himself. “No keys. Right. Uh… well, I guess I’ll call the locksmith…”

“I can check for a few places in the area,” Blaine offers, grabbing his phone again.

“Thanks, Blaine,” Kurt mumbles. “Ugh, and Santana’s coming back tomorrow… if she were here today, she could just let us in. Now we’ll probably have to change locks and-”

“Or you could just stay here.”

“What?”

“I, uh- I mean. If you don’t- never mind, I-”

“Did you just offer me a place to stay after I more-or-less accidentally broke into your apartment, scared the hell out of you and came across as a total lunatic who just wanted to creep on you while you were naked?”

Blaine is the one to blush this time around.

“I mean, uhm.” He clears his throat. “You did cover your eyes when… that all happened. Also, I know for a fact that you actually live in this building, it’s not like I’ve never noticed- I mean, uh, seen you around… so.” He grimaces. “Do I really have to explain this? I’m just trying to be nice.”

“And you’re very much succeeding,” Kurt says breathlessly. “So… thank you.” He hesitates. “Well, I can’t really take you up on it, though. It feels a bit inappropriate. And I do have another roommate who’s also homeless for the night, though.”

“Not inappropriate at all, I offered.” Blaine shrugs. “And as for the roommate… my couch is big enough for two.”

“Wow.” Kurt blinks. “You really are very nice.”

Blaine lets out a mixture of a squeak and a laugh. Kurt wants to judge but doesn’t find it in himself to find it anything but absolutely endearing.

“Let me call Rachel and Santana and see what they say?” Kurt asks before clarifying, “My roommates, I mean.”

“Sure.” Blaine tilts his head. “Is the one potentially staying here the loud one or the scary one?”

Kurt laughs. “I’ll have you know they can both be very loud and scary, sometimes at the same time, which is usually my cue to leave for a few hours and curse myself to have moved in with two friends from high school.” He shakes his head fondly. “But I’m guessing you mean Santana when you say scary, so, no. The loud one would be staying here.”

“Alright, then.” Blaine smiles. “I’ll make some coffee while you call them. The least I can do is offer you something to drink while you figure out your options.”

“The least you can do?” Kurt asks under his breath as Blaine walks away. “Insanity…���

He calls Rachel, tells her as much as she needs to know, which is mainly that he did not die on the fire escape and is currently camping out in apartment 7B. That earns him a squeal so loud he has to hastily shove his phone closer to his ear to muffle the sound, to no avail, though, as Blaine looks over and chuckles.

“Yeah, definitely the loud one,” he comments.

Santana’s even less discrete, which is unsurprising but also more than embarrassing. She just cackles diabolically and tells Kurt she’ll stay away as long as he needs to play the damsel-in-distress card to get into dreamy neighbors pants, and Kurt prays to every deity he can think of that Blaine didn’t hear that.

It doesn’t look like it, but Kurt has yet to respond.

“No, Santana, we’d very much appreciate it if you could come back tomorrow and solve this whole mess,” he says, voice tight, glancing at Blaine apologetically. “We don’t want to inconvenience Blaine longer than necessary.”

“Well I can think of a few ways you could repay him, you know? There’s-”

“See you tomorrow, Santana!” Kurt hangs up as quickly as he can.

A few minutes later, Blaine welcomes his second surprise guest into his apartment. Rachel made a quick beeline to the nearest grocery store and brought something to cook for dinner, so that Blaine wouldn’t have to spend extra money on them.

She talks fast as she thanks Blaine for his hospitality, asks endless questions about how Kurt ended up in the apartment, and just gapes at them like a fish when she finally gets them to tell her the full story.

Blaine’s roommate Sam comes home in time for dinner and only raises an eyebrow at Blaine.

“I see you invited the loft people,” he says with a smirk that Kurt can’t really place but sends Blaine into a bit of a coughing fit. “It’s nice to meet you,” Sam adds in Rachel and Kurt’s direction.

Despite not having anything with them and having to borrow everything from Sam and Blaine – except for tooth brushes, which Rachel thankfully thought of on her way to the store – they end up having a wonderful evening with delicious food, wine and an episode of America’s Next Topmodel.

Kurt and Blaine sit close enough to touch, and Kurt doesn’t think he imagines it when Blaine scoots a bit closer, pretending to make more room for Sam, and oh-so-subtly brushes the back of Kurt’s hand with his own.

He definitely doesn’t imagine the way Blaine’s breath hitches when Kurt gathers all his courage to lean close and whisper in his ear, “Somehow I was under the impression there’d be some nude photo shoots today.”

Blaine lets out a surprised laugh, giving Kurt a look that’s both scandalized and appreciative. Or so Kurt likes to think.

He almost thanks Rachel for being so forgetful about her keys. But only almost.

Once they are tucked into their makeshift beds and Sam and Blaine have retreated to their rooms, Rachel turns to Kurt, her head propped up on her hand.

“So, you saw him naked, huh?”

“Rachel!” Kurt buries his head under the blanket, and tries to think about how that a) actually happened, and b) somehow led to him lying on Blaine’s couch in Blaine’s apartment wearing Blaine’s clothes. “Please don’t.”

“I mean, most people start by formally introducing themselves but your way certainly has its perks.”

“Rachel, I swear,” Kurt hisses.

“Come on, I want to hear some details,” Rachel begs.

Kurt groans and peeks out under his blanket to take a look at Sam and Blaine’s doors. Closed shut. Good.

“Alright, alright, but for the love of god, shush.”

And amazingly, just for once, Rachel lets him talk and gush and rant, and keeps somewhat quiet throughout.

It’s not until the next morning that Kurt realizes Rachel never agreed to actually keep her mouth shut for the whole duration of their stay, so he doesn’t get to actually start over and live an embarrassment-free life.

“So, Blaine,” she starts over breakfast, and her mischievous grin sends Kurt into such a frenzy that he misses her leg the first few times he tries to kick it. “Kurt tells me you have an amazing a-”

“Assorted sheet music collection!” Kurt blurts when he finally does get a hold of her foot.

He hates Rachel for a second but it’s worth the flirty smile Blaine sends his way.

“You think so?” he asks. “I should have you let a closer look someday.”

Sam smirks, Rachel cackles. Kurt chokes on his tea a bit. And Blaine just looks way too pleased with himself.

Kurt changes his mind about potentially thanking Rachel. He seriously needs roommates with better key management skills.

Or simply a new apartment. He hates moving, though.

Maybe he can get a spot in the same building.

7B certainly has its assets.