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scarlettriot · 3 years ago

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Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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sukiglycerin · 4 years ago

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it takes two || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst

* words: 1,647

* warnings: brief fighting scene (implied), swearing (duh), a lil bit of insecure katsuki but ofc comfort after, reader is mentioned to be in the hero business field, KATSUKI WEARS SHOES IN THE HOUSE !!! can you believe the audacity-

* original request: Hello dear :)) Can I request a Bakugou x reader fic where he gets hit by a clone quirk and the clone is like the complete opposite of him, personality-wise, and Bakugou frequently loses his temper because the clone keeps hitting on his s/o I am sorry for bothering you :(

* a/n: you? bother me? never. actually, i’m sorry this took so long to complete! i’m hoping i can restart a consistent posting schedule soon. happy early birthday bakugou! this is my gift :) i hope you all enjoy~ i love @toishi for proofreading this T^T

it’s a lazy day for you. all you’ve been doing is sleeping, waking up occasionally to eat, and indulging in six different rhythm games despite your lack of rhythm, it’s a good day, snuggled up under the mountains of fuzzy blankets and squished in between soft pillows on your bed, your favorite song quietly playing from your phone on your nightstand. natural light fills your otherwise unlit room, curtains pushed aside to let the sun shine in her full glory. time is idle in this sanctuary of yours for only today; whether a minute or an hour has passed is something out of your concern.

there’s nothing different when bakugou comes home, the jingle of keys and click of the door telling you that it’s him. he’s oddly quiet, though, and for a second you’re almost wondering why he hasn’t yelled “i’m home, dumbass!” before said blond peeks his head into the room.

“hey, love,” he flashes a rare smile. it’s kind, like the soft light of the sun you've become so acquainted with. “i’m home.”

“hey?” you sit up, propping the pillows behind you so you can comfortably lean against the headboard of your bed. “you feeling alright?”

you expect a gruff reply of “the fuck are you talking about?” and a scowl, but get the opposite. a pleasant expression graces katsuki's face, which makes him look more handsome than usual. his hair almost seems tame this way. he’s also uncharacteristically clean; his costume is usually dirt-treaded and at least a little battered whenever he returns from hero patrol. now, though? his outfit is pristine, as if pulled out from a laundromat and ironed professionally. there’s a ghost of a frown on your lips.

"i'm lovely, now that i can see you." the line is spoken like a sappy confession from the male lead of a k-drama; you'd laugh if it wasn't for your utter confusion about katsuki's sudden change in demeanor. his facial expression is twisted in such a gallant way that it arouses suspicion in you.

you’re opening your mouth to reply when there’s a startling crashing at the front door. katsuki’s face falls into downhearted dread, as if expecting the intrusion. his reaction surprises you more than the intrusion itself. the door slams shut in the distance, rattling the house. the sound of boots clomping against the hardwood floor frightens you as you thrust your warm sheets aside (alas, they could wait) and reach for your bat under the bed. katsuki only stares at you, transfixed, and you feel the slightest urge to clobber him with the weapon. why isn’t he ready to fight? you’re up and approaching the doorway of your bedroom when you stop in your tracks.

“hey, fucker!” a loud, abrasive voice yells from down the hallway. “i found ya!”

you recognize that timbre in an instant, then turn to look at katsuki, still standing at your bedside, with a questioning gaze. he’s wearing an expression you never thought you’d see your husband have - his eyes are wide, mouth agape like a deer in headlights.

despite this vote of inconfidence from him, you pad forward slowly, bat gripped tightly and slung over your shoulder. you plunge forward, passing the doorway and glancing left. a shadowy figure stands five feet from you, its stature menacing. you swing blindly, but you bat is only met with more air. the figure is a little bit further now - damnit, it had good reflexes.

“you could still use some work on that swing,” it lowly chuckles and confuses you. you squint, trying to make out who in the world this guy thinks he is to comment on your swing. you gasp, faltering your grip on the bat.

“k-katsuki? what?”

“got hit with a stupid clone quirk on patrol,” this katsuki grumbles bitterly, stepping towards you. he’s dressed in his full hero costume, green grenadier bracers a tight fit in the narrow hallway. “i apprehended the guy but my clone won’t stop following me around. it’s stupidly fast, too, whenever i try to catch it.”

“....and,” you start, “how do i know that you’re not the clone?” you pretend to inspect him close, eyes slowly trailing from the tips of his spiky, golden hair to his black combat boots. (oh, man, you were going to yell at him about wearing shoes in the house later.)

“don’t start this inception bullshit with me now,” he groans.

“what’s katsuki bakugou’s favorite food?” you question, though you have no doubt that this katsuki is the real one.

“anything spicy,” he bemoans. “now, let me-”

“that was an easy one.” you shake your head. “what was the first idea katsuki bakugou had for a hero name idea instead of lord explosion murder?”

if you were in better light, you’re sure you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink.

“mighty boom,” he mumbles.

“sorry, what was that?” you tease.

“mighty boom!” he half-shouts, flustered.

“oh, okay, so you’re the real katsuki,” you say. “how do we defeat the clone?’

“according to the quirk user, it should disappear after two or three hours. but it can’t really do much harm, as long as it’s not in the sight of the user himself,” he says. “now let me at ‘im. he’s making a fool of myself.”

he attempts to shove himself forward, but you stop him before he can see through the door frame. you glance at the clone, who’s looking at you with round, ruby eyes. he looks like a puppy with that innocent expression, and for a split second, you think that you actually might miss the calm, charming air of this katsuki. turning back to the real katsuki, who pretends not to notice the shift in your eyes, you exhale.

“have at it, but take it outside first, please. i can’t have you tracking in more dirt.” you look to the dirt-ridden footprints behind him on the wooden flooring, sighing.

but in a flash he’s past you - wow, you really weren’t blocking him at all before, were you? - outfit a blur of black, green, and orange as he seizes the clone, slings it over his shoulder like it's made of air, and vanishes past you and out the door. he seldom leaves a trace of dirt, this time, smooth maneuvering himself outside while the clone bids you one last pleading farewell.

you hear blasting, yelling, and yelps, the lattermost presumably the clone’s, barely muffled from your position inside. your first thought wonders what the neighbors will think. you glance one last time at the tracks of katsuki’s boots then turn back to your room. he’d have to mop up that mess later.

ten minutes and an eternity later, katsuki returns inside. by the pause at the front door, you figure one of two things: katsuki’s either taking the time to take off his shoes and put them away properly or staring at the filth he left on the floor. you’re hoping it’s the former. his footsteps are light as he goes to fetch a mop and clean the mess.

finished, he shuffles into your shared room and briefly looks at your comfortable position on the bed.

“what?” you whine. “hero business is hard. i needed a day off.”

this earns a laugh from the man, who’s in the process of removing his gauntlets and stowing them away. he shrugs off the rest of his costume, opting for much more comfortable attire and dropping his mask on a dresser.

“how was your day?” you ask when he snuggles next to you on the bed. he’s sweaty and smells deeply of caramel, but you’ll nag him to shower later. the wear shows in his eyes and movement, sluggish after a long day of work.

“good,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “except for that clone bastard.”

you hum, joking, “he was charming, though.”

when he looks up at you with a vulnerable look in his eyes, you regret it.

“did you… really like him that much?” his voice is hoarse, scarcely a whisper. he averts his eyes, fiddling with the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“of course not,” you reply tenderly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. he still can’t look you in the eyes.

“you know you’ll always be number one in my heart, right? even if you’re not the number one hero, you’re the constant in my heart.” you touch your chest, right over your heart.

“y-you sure?” his words crackle like dying embers, inconsistent and unstable, flakes of lit ash that weakly dissipate into the atmosphere. a waning fire is still warm, though; with a bit of oxygen it can be rejuvenated, relit, and burn bright once again.

“am i one to be wrong?” you ask him, and he faintly shakes his head. “i fell in love with you not for your looks, katsuki… i don’t want a disney prince. i want you, not some fairytale guy.”

“i yell, and i’m brash-”

you cut him off, chuckling, “and that’s what i love about you. you don’t-” you make a vague gesture with your hands, then drop them, unsure how to articulate your thoughts. “you don’t care what people think. you’re unapologetically… you.”

“you sure?” katsuki tries again. “that- that guy, that thing- you sure you don’t prefer a guy that’ll buy you roses with a note on the tag that says ‘you are the most beautiful flower in my garden’ in fancy cursive script on it?”

“do people really do that?” you frown. “i mean, i hope no guy does that for me-” katsuki exhales a breath of relief. you look at him questioningly but don’t press the issue.

“i love you, katsuki,” you finish, “and no shitty clone will ever change that. ever.”

while he showers, katsuki’s thankful that he burned the roses from some secret admirer he found in your shoe locker during your high school days.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bnha angst #bakugou headcanons #bnha headcanons #luna's writing

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Touch That Dial

Wanda x reader x Vision

Non-reader POV

It was the middle of the night. Vision, Y/N, and Wanda were all sound asleep in their single beds when Wanda bolted upright at a loud thudding sound.

"What was that?" Wanda wondered aloud. She looked to her right to see Y/N and Vision sleeping. For a second, she questioned if she should chance to wake them up, but when the thuds continued, she turned the light on with her magic.

Stop being silly, Wanda chided herself, turning the light off. But what if it is something? Wanda wondered, snapping the light back on. It's probably nothing, Wanda. She decided turning the light off again, this time for good.

While Wanda was debating waking her loves, she hadn't noticed they had already woken.

"Wanda?" Vision asked, pulling his eye mask off.

"Yes, dear?"

"Are you using your powers to turn on the light?" Vision questioned, staring at the window.

"Yes, dear," Wanda admitted, feeling guilty.

"Allow me, dear." Vision said, getting out of bed as Y/N sat up.

"What even woke you up?" Y/N asked before there was another loud thud. "Never mind."

"What do you see?" Wanda questioned Vision, who was now standing at the window.

"Only your lovely rosebushes and carnations," Vision told her.

"That's all?" Y/N wondered.

"Are you using your night vision, Vision?" Wanda quizzed the man.

"I assure you, my love, I see nothing amiss." Vision promised, turning to face both women. "You have absolutely no reason to be frightened." The android said before there was another loud bang. Vision let out a loud yelp and jumped back into bed quickly.

"You were saying?" Y/N asked, raising a brow while Wanda shook her head.

"Actually, I did overhear a couple of lads at work remarking on a few unsavory characters settling in the neighborhood. Now, who knows what those ne'er-do-wells might be up to? Robbing houses, vandalizing property." Vision suggested.

"Walking through walls. Moving objects without touching them. Causing lightning of sunny days." Wanda teased.

"I did that once, and it was because you scared me," Y/N grumbled.

"Wanda, sweetheart, you can't possibly be suggesting my colleagues were referring to us," Vision asked before there was another bang.

The three jumped, and Wanda caused all three beds to join.

"One of us should really determine the source of that sound." Vision commented.

"That's something we could do," Y/N said, clutching her blankets.

"One of us should." Wanda agreed.

It was more a bang this time that caused them all to jump.

"Oh, this getting ridiculous." Y/N snapped, pushing her blankets down. "I am going to take a look."

"Be careful, Y/N."

"Oh, God."

Without moving from her spot, Y/N blew the curtains open to reveal the tree. Its branches, crashing against the window.

"Well, I think we handled that well," Wanda said, sinking down into the bed.

"Yes, I must say I'm rather proud of myself. And look how you seized the opportunity to redecorate." Vision said, noting that all their beds were pressed together.

"This is better, isn't it?" Wanda asked.

"Mmm." Vision nodded before Wanda pointed her finger, and instead of three separate beds, the three of you were now on one large joint bed.

"Why did it take us this long?" Y/N asked, smiling at how close she was to her husband and wife.

"Wanda, darling?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Hit the lights."

The three pulled the blankets over their heads, and Wanda snapped the lights off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for my final trick, I bring you The Cabinet of Mysteries." Vision practiced in front of an invisible audience. "Wanda, that's your cue."

"You said "The Cabinet of Mysteries?" Wanda called from behind him.

"I said "The Cabinet of Mysteries."

"Then that's my cue." Wanda agreed and began to wheel a large cabinet into their living room.

"Holy Toledo!" Vision exclaimed, rushing to help Wanda. "Darling, do all the other acts in the talent show have such elaborate props?"

"Are you kidding? Fred and Linda are building a moat and a fully functioning portcullis, and no-one knows why." Wanda shook her head.

"I heard Fred was going to throw Linda into the moat," Y/N said from inside the cabinet. "Can we hurry this along? I'm getting claustrophobic." She added.

"Let's keep going." Wanda nodded, taking her place.

"Yes. Yes. Where was I? Ah, yes, watch closely as I, Illusion, Master of Enigma, make my captivating assistant, Glamour, disappear." Vision rehearsed as Wanda held her hand up and gasped. The two opened the doors, and Vision helped Wanda into the cabinet.

"You really are very dashing." Wanda complimented, breaking character.

"Thank you, darling." Vision smiled. "Fear not, Glamour, for I, Illusion vow, to bring you back." The android said, shutting the doors on Wanda. "Abracadabra." He announced, opening the doors to reveal Y/N standing in Wanda's place. "What's this? I seem to have changed my lovely assistant into another lovely being."

"I saw your assistant in the dimension of the cabinet," Y/N said as Vision helped her out. "To bring her back, I think you'll have to try the spell again."

"So we shall." Vision nodded. He and Y/N closed the doors once more, and Vision held his wand at the ready. "Abracadabra." He said, tapping the cabinet twice, and when the doors opened, this time, there stood Wanda, who was clapping her hands and grinning widely.

"Darlings, you're not at all worried that the audience might just see through this little charade?"

"That's the whole point, sweetheart," Y/N assured her husband. "In a real magic act, everything is fake. Not everyone can do what Wanda does."

"The talent show fundraiser is the most important event of the season, and it's our neighborly duty to participate." Wanda fretted. "Plus, it's our chance to appear as normal as possible while doing so."

"Well, I don't think that should be a problem." Vision joked, gesturing to his undisguised face.

Y/N and Vision chuckled at Vision's joke, but Wanda just stared between the two.

"This is our home now. I just want us to fit in." Wanda admitted.

"Oh, Wand, of course, we fit in," Y/N promised, resting her hand on the woman's waist.

"And if not, then we shall. And we're going to knock the neighborhood's socks off. Especially if the two of you are dressed like this." Vision commented, picking up one of his wife's costumes.

"Oh, that's actually the rest of your costume." Wanda joked, cracking a smile. "Oh, Y/N, we better get going if we want to make the planning committee meeting." Wanda gasped, noting the time on her wristwatch.

"That's me off too, actually." Vision said, pulling on his sweater. "There's a gathering of the neighborhood watch at the public library. After last night's excitement, I want to make sure this town's security is up to snuff." He admitted.

"That's an outta sight idea, Vis." Y/N complimented.

"Real swell, sweetheart. You tell those tree branches whose boss." Wanda teased, leaning up to kiss the man.

"Would you look at us? Wanda, Y/N, and Vision, Westview fitter-inners." Vision smiled before kissing Y/N. "I'll see you both at curtain call." He said, moving to leave.

"Do you have your keys, Vis?" Y/N aked before he left the house.

"Of course." Vision said, pulling on a hat and his glasses. "When have I ever forgot them?" He wondered, causing Y/N and Wanda to share a look.

"Just now, to name one time," Wanda said, floating Vision his set of keys.

"Oh. Perhaps my processors need a cleaning." Vision mused, changing his appearance and taking the floating keys. "Until curtain call!" He exclaimed.

"Until curtain call!" Both women called back.

Y/N and Wanda still had several minutes before they had to leave for the committee meeting. The two moved around the house, putting dishes away, straightening trinkets, and fluffing pillows when there was a loud noise outside.

"Do you think it's the tree?" Y/N wondered as Wanda began to move out the front door.

But Wanda didn't respond as she continued to walk in a trance-like state.

"Sweetheart?" Y/N asked, following after her wife. Wanda moved outside and towards the rosebushes where a toy helicopter sat. "Do any of our neighbors have children?" Y/N asked, receiving no response once again.

Wanda pulled the toy out of the bush and stared at it in confusion.

"Wanda? Sweetheart?" Y/N asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Howdie stars!" Agnes exclaimed, suddenly appearing at the gate.

Both Y/N and Wanda jumped as Agnes chuckled.

"Agnes! Y/N!" Wanda chuckled, holding one hand to her chest. "I'm sorry, what did you say, Agnes?" Wanda asked, taking Y/N's hand and clutching it tightly.

"I brought my pet rabbit," Agnes said, holding up a cage with a large rabbit. "For your magic act." She explained.

"Yes, of course! Thank you, Agnes." Wanda nodded.

"We promise we will take good care of him," Y/N added, taking the cage into her arms. "I'll take him inside." She told Wanda.

"I'll come with. I'll lock the back door." Wanda said, following her wife.

"Senor Scratchy just loves the stage. He played baby Jesus in last year's Christmas pageant." Agnes bragged loudly as the two Vision women took her rabbit into their home. "Good morning, Dennis." That was the last thing Y/N and Wanda heard from Agnes as they disappeared into their home.

"You gonna tell me what all that was about?" Y/N asked, putting Senor Scratchy's cage beside the couch.

"What what was all about?" Wanda asked, locking the back door.

"The helicopter." Y/N reminded. "You blanked out on me." She said as they moved back towards the front door.

"I'm having a spacey day, sweetheart. That's all." Wanda assured, closing the front door and stopping Y/N on the porch. "I promise." She said, pressing a kiss to Y/N's lips, taking her hand, and walking back down to Agnes. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Agnes smiled, hooking her arm around Wanda's free one. "So, are you ready to meet Queen Cul de Sac and her merry homemakers?" Agnes questioned the two.

"Dottie, can't be as bad as you say, Agnes." Wanda laughed.

"Wanda, have you met most women? Not everyone's like Agnes or us." Y/N asked, causing Agnes to laugh.

"She's right, you know? You'll notice Dottie's roses bloom under the penalty of death." Agnes told the two, though Wanda scoffed a little. "Can I give you girls a bit of friendly advice?" Agnes asked, stopping in her tracks.

"Is it about how we're dressed?"

"Yes, but it's too late for that now," Agnes said, looking the two over.

Wanda looked concerned, but Y/N couldn't bring herself to care.

Pants were slowly becoming more incorporated in women's daily wardrobe, and Y/N wouldn't be giving them up for anyone.

"Dottie is the key to everything in this town." Agnes continued. "Country club memberships, parties, school admissions." She teased the two.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Wanda shook her head, though there was a smile on her face.

"You get in with Dotties, and it'll be smooth sailing from here on out," Agnes told them. "Just mind your P's and Q's, and you're gonna do just fine." She said assuringly.

"Why can't we just be ourselves?" Y/N asked.

"More or less so," Wanda added.

Agnes stared at the two in confusion before letting out a laugh.

"That's good, girls. Very good." She said.

"Everyone, hurry up, please." A new voice called.

The three women turned to the left and noticed a fair-haired woman leaving a house with a procession of women behind her.

"Hiya, Dottie!" Agnes called. "Your roses are divine!" She complimented, waving a hand.

Y/N and Wanda both followed suit and waved as well. Wanda little more enthusiastically than Y/N's awkward one.

"Well, thank you." Dottie smiled politely and waved daintily.

Neither Y/N nor Wanda knew just what they were getting themselves into.

Y/N, Wanda, and Agnes all followed Dottie and her group to the country club. The three had sat to the side as Dottie's followers meticulously set everything up.

As one woman spoke about the fundraiser's progress, Wanda watched Dottie intently as the woman made her ice tea to her liking.

"The rotary club is finishing the stage set-up as we speak. They've given the gazebo a fresh coat of paint, and they'll be installing the final decorations all throughout the town square. And if you recognize the antique footlights, it's because they're from my store." The lady standing finished explaining with a fake smile.

"And the chairs?" Dottie asked, tilting her head to the side.

The woman seemingly froze at Dottie's question before she forced a smile back onto her face.

"I'm sorry, Dottie. I didn't ask about the chairs." She admitted.

"So you better not ask me if you can chair any committees in the future," Dottie said, grinning at the other women who laughed at her words. "The devil's in the details, Bev," Dottie said, standing as Bev rushed back to her seat in shame.

"That's not the only place he is," Agnes said to Wanda.

"As you all know, the talent show is the sole fundraiser for Westview Elementary," Dottie explained.

"This might help," Agnes said, raising a small flask.

"Do you have any spare?" Y/N asked, leaning over Wanda, but Agnes shook her head.

"In the eight years since I founded our little club, this event has gotten bigger and better every season." Dottie bragged as a woman passed around a tray of biscuits to Y/N, who handed them onto Wanda.

"Say, those pants are peachy keen. Both sets." The mystery woman complimented.

"Do you really think so?" Wanda asked with wide eyes. "The other ladies are in skirts. I was worried."

"Not me," Y/N mumbled, sipping her drink.

"We only have a few hours until showtime. So, a little less cross chatter and a little more focus would be greatly appreciated," Dottie interrupted, causing the three to freeze.

"Okay." Wanda nodded, passing along the tray.

"Those little boys and girls are counting on us. All of this is for the children." Dottie said.

The other women, bar Y/N and Wanda, parroted back the phrase,

"For the children."

Y/N looked very uncomfortable at the chanting women and muttered,

"This is a cult."

But Wanda had been eating her biscuit and parroted the phrase back after everyone else had finished.

Everyone turned to stare at the Vision women, and Dottie looked more than displeased at the two.

"So I want you all to give yourselves a big hand," Dottie started but was interrupted by Wanda clapping loudly. "At the appropriate time, of course." Dottie scolded as you grabbed Wanda's hands and pulled them down. "But first, let's review event etiquette. The dress code is, of course, upscale garden party,"

"The only reason I didn't clap is that I'm afraid to move." The woman beside Y/N leaned over to whisper.

"I don't think I was paying enough attention to clap," Y/N told her. The woman smiled while Wanda lightly hit her wife's leg.

"I actually don't know what I'm doing here." The mystery woman admitted.

"I'm starting to feel that way myself," Wanda admitted. "I'm Wanda." She said, holding her hand out.

"I'm, uh, Geraldine." The woman introduced herself after taking Wanda's hand.

"And I'm Y/N."

"And I'm irritated." Dottie interrupted, staring at the three of you, her features pinched together in anger. "Tickets for tonight are completely sold out. Now you can clap." Dottie commanded. The woman allowed everyone to clap for five seconds before she raised her hand. "And stop."

"How is anyone doing this sober?" Agnes muttered, shaking her head.

Across town, Vision had finally made his way to the library and was rushing inside. Afraid to have missed his chance at joining the committee.

Vision quickly found the group he was looking for, surrounding a table, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

"Pardon me, is this the neighborhood watch meeting?" Vision asked, standing to the left of the group, his hat in his hands.

Everyone turned to stare at the man, all clearly unsure what he was doing there.

"Oh, hiya Vision. Didn't expect to see you here." Norm said. "This is sort of a 'members only' type of deal." He informed his coworker.

"Oh certainly! Right, well." Vision stuttered, rocking back on his heels. "I'll just stay here and be quiet as a church mouse until you open up the floor for new business." Vision assured the assembled group.

"Well, in truth, we were just getting to new business." Herb, his next-door neighbor, admitted.

"Oh, splendid! Could you tell me how often you rotate security patrols?" Vision inquired, pulling up a chair between Herb and Norm. "Do you interface directly with local law enforcement? And what are your protocols for threats such as burglary, graffiti, and reckless driving?" He pushed.

"No Vision," Norm started, but Vision interrupted him.

"I know these are indeed grave matters." Vision nodded.

"New business actually means another round of Danish," Norm admitted.

"Raspberry or cheese-filled?" Jones asked, pulling a box onto the table and sitting it before Vision.

"Oh, neither for me, thank you. I don't eat food." Vision said without thinking.

Vision didn't even register what he had said until he noticed the rest of the table staring at him in confusion.

"What I mean to say is that I don't eat food in between meals but at mealtimes. I'm a regular eating machine." Vision rambled.

There were a couple nods at Vision's reasoning, and Herb even huffed out a short laugh before he leaned in close to the table.

"Hey fellas. Vision here does have a point. Now listen up because I got some top-secret intelligence for you." Herb told everyone who leaned in closer to hear.

"Oh, excellent!"

"You know how Johnson's been braggin' about that treehouse he built for his kids?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a prefab job," Herb informed everyone. The table immediately scoffed at his words and nodded along.

"That blockhead can't even hold a hammer." One mocked.

"I can do you one better." Norm bragged. "You know those bowling trophies Arthur's always polishing? He bought 'em all at a yard sale in Hackensack."

"I knew it! I've never once seen him down at the lanes." Herb shook his head.

Is this how I'm to fit in? Vision pondered. By peddling gossip and stories? Well, if it is to fit in. He decided, nodding to himself.

"I, too have, some top-secret gossip to share." Vision announced. "Norm here's a communist." He declared.

Norm froze for a second as the rest of the table turned to face him. But he didn't have to worry as everyone burst out into boisterous laughter, Norm included.

"Vision, you're a real cut up." Jones complimented.

"You know, I always thought you were kinda square," Norm told him.

"Me? No! I'm as round as they come." Vision said, causing the rest of the men to laugh once more.

"Hey, Vis, card for a stick big Red?" Herb asked, offering a stick of gum to the android.

"Well, hold on a second. Didn't you hear the man? He doesn't eat food." Norm teased as Vision held the gum between two fingers.

"Is gum food?"

"Well, my understanding is that it's purely for mastication." Vision shrugged, turning his head to Herb for began to stutter.

"Oh no, I don't do that!" Herb denied, shaking his head firmly.

"Well, when in Westview." Vision shrugged, unwrapping the gum. "Cheers." He said, raising the stick before putting it in his mouth.

"Who knew you were such a funny guy?" Norm asked.

"And to think you came here all hot and bothered about protocols and nonsense." Herb chuckled. "We actually thought you were serious," Herb said, slapping Vision on the back.

At the rough and sudden movement, Vision accidentally swallowed the gum in his mouth.

Vision could feel the wad of gum sliding down his throat and getting stuck in his internal processors.

"He's funny. All right, so, back to the barbeque." Herb directed the meeting back on topic.

But what none of the other men noticed was Vision's growing panic at the foreign object now stuck in his internal processors.

Back at the country club, it was now only Y/N, Wanda, and Dottie.

Wanda and Y/N had been tasked with cleaning up after the meeting while Dottie sat prissily behind them.

"And this is why you never do a seating chart on an empty stomach," Dottie commented as Wanda heaved a heavy tray of plates onto the table.

"Golly, you're a whiz at all the committee stuff, Dottie." Wanda complimented as Y/N picked up two stacks of teacups. "Thank you for choosing us to help you clean up. I feel so lucky." Wanda commented, taking one stack off Y/N's hands.

"You are." Dottie shrugged as they lugged the china onto the cart.

"I don't like her," Y/N whispered into her wife's ear once their backs were to their host. "Let's just split now."

"Not yet." Wanda denied before turning back to Dottie. "I can't help but wonder if the three of us haven't gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie. And I'd like to, we'd like to, correct that if we can."

"And how would you do that?" Dottie asked, her face void of emotion.

Wanda didn't have an answer for Dottie as she chuckled awkwardly and glanced at her wife for an answer. But Y/N didn't have one either.

"I've heard things about you," Dottie revealed, rising to a stand. "About you, about your husband, and about your wife," Dottie said, pointing at both women.

"Well, I don't know what you've been told, but I assure you we don't mean anyone any harm," Wanda said as Y/N moved to stand beside her.

"I don't believe you," Dottie said, staring the two women down with a mean glare.

For a minute, the three women merely stared at one another. Dottie glared in distrust, Wanda looked almost scared, and Y/N was glaring at Dottie for threatening her wife, husband, and their life here.

The staring contest was interrupted by the radio crackling loudly before a man's voice came through it.

"Wanda. Wanda, can you hear? Agent Barton, do you read me?"

"Who is that?" Dottie asked, looking at the radio in fear.

"Wanda? Y/N?"

"Who are you?" Dottie gasped, now turning her fearful gaze to Wanda and Y/N.

The voice continued to call for both Wanda and Y/N. It kept repeating their names until a glass shattered.

The glass in Dottie's hand shattered, and the radio silenced.

"Dottie!" Wanda gasped, gazing at Dottie's bleeding hand in shock.

Wanda quickly took the woman's hand into her own as Y/N pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.

"Pop quiz, Wanda," Dottie said as Y/N wrapped her hand. "How does a housewife get a bloodstain out white linen?" She asked. When neither woman gave her an answer, she answered her own question. "By doing it herself."

And with that, Dottie walked away.

"Wanda, what is going on?" Y/N demanded as Wanda glanced down at the radio. "What was that? Was that you? That couldn't have been you. Why was it calling me Agent Barton?" Y/N questioned her.

Wanda had never seen her wife really lose her cool in all their time together.

Y/N was always the level-headed one of the trio.

"Sweetheart," Wanda said, taking Y/N's face in her hands. At Wanda's touch, Y/N physically slacked in her grip. "You're exhausted," Wanda explained, running her thumb under Y/N's eye. "It's been a long day, and we didn't sleep last night. You need rest."

"I need rest." Y/N agreed, nodding her head gently.

"We have time before the show to go home and take a nap." Wanda determined. "Maybe we can find something for your head at home or some tea? Does that sound okay?"

"That sounds okay." Y/N nodded, smiling at her wife. "You know it's really your fault we didn't get any sleep last night." Y/N teased as she stood upright.

"Of course it was." Wanda smiled, wrapping her arm around Y/N's waist. "Let's get you home."

As the two began to walk away, Wanda couldn't stop herself from looking back and at the radio.

Just what was that?

Wanda and Y/N had gone home and taken an hour for themselves before they had to get ready for the show and bring their props down to the town square.

All of their neighbors had prepared an act. Everyone was performing.

Wanda, Y/N, and Vision were the last act on the agenda. The only problem with their performance was that they were missing a key component.

They were missing Vision.

"I'd hate to go after this guy." Geraldine giggled, staring at what was happening through the curtains while Wanda paced.

"What?" Wanda panicked.

"Oh no, not like that. You guys are gonna be great." Geraldine assured.

"Oh, what time is it now?" Wanda asked, beginning to pace again.

"Wanda, it's been two minutes," Y/N told the woman.

"I just don't know where he could be."

"Wanda, Vision will be here," Y/N promised, stopping her wife in her pacing by taking her hands. "He promised, and he'd never break a promise to us."

"Is that him?" Geraldine interrupted, pointing to a man stumbling up the stairs.

Y/N and Wanda both turned to see their husband stumbling up the steps of the gazebo.

"It looks like he's got a little hitch in his giddyup," Geraldine commented, shaking her head.

"Vis?" Wanda asked, moving towards the man.

"Wanda! Wanda, my little cabbage, you look smashing!" Vision complimented before letting out a groan.

"What have you been doing?" Y/N asked, stepping next to Wanda.

"Not to worry, my little squash, me and the boys were just playing a rather thrilling game of horses with shoes." Vision said before shaking his head. "No, that's not right. Shoe horses. Horse's shoes!"

"Listen, something strange happened with Dottie," Y/N said, grabbing Vision's arms. "And before that. Something strange has been going on all day. It's hard to explain." Y/N told him.

"I was just playing with his shoes!" Vision yelled, pointing his finger at a man walking by in a horse costume.

Both Y/N and Wanda stared at their husband in confusion. He'd never acted like this before.

"What is going on?" Wanda asked a tad hysterically.

"You are!" Geraldine interrupted.

Wanda rushed to the curtains where Geraldine was peeking her head out to see Dottie giving a speech.

"I want to thank you all for coming out to support Westview Elementary, "For the Children." Dottie gushed.

"For the children." The crowd parroted back.

"The whole town's in this cult." Y/N shook her head.

"And for our final act, I give you Wanda, Y/N, and Vision," Dottie announced, politely clapping as she left the stage to sit with her husbands.

Wanda grabbed Y/N's hand and pulled the woman through the curtains.

The two smiled at the audience as they moved to their spot and, at the same time, gestured for Vision to exit.

Except Vision didn't exit. He completely missed his cue.

"Hey! Hey you! You're up, Cowboy!" Geraldine snapped backstage at Vision.

"What?" Vision asked, struggling with a deck of cards. "Oh, shoot! I've got to go!"

Vision rushed towards the stage, and instead of exiting calmly, as they had planned, Vision burst through the curtains.

"Hello, Westview!" Vision exclaimed as Y/N and Wanda exchanged looks. "It's so lovely to be. I'm so sorry!" Vision apologized to a handrail he had bumped into. "Excuse me. I am Allure, and these are my delightful assistant's Illusion and Glamour."

"I am Glamour," Wanda interjected, raising a hand in a flourish.

"And I am Allure," Y/N added, copying Wanda's movements. "And this is the incredible,

"Illusion." The two introduced.

"Whatever they said." Vision nodded along. "Today, we will lie to you, and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled. But that's not your fault!" Vision told the audience. "It's because of human's limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe." He shrugged while his wife's once again stared at him questioningly. "Flourish!"

"You don't have to say it out loud, honey," Wanda muttered.

"You just do it. Like we practiced." Y/N added.

"Bah!" Vision waved off the advice. "And now, my wive's and I will delight in your dumbstruck little faces. Flourish!" He called before he was suddenly floating above the stage.

Wanda and Y/N froze at their husband's actions. And they weren't the only ones.

Everyone in the audience saw what Vision was doing, and they all gasped at the sight of him floating.

What was he thinking?

Wanda's head snapped to the audience, and she noticed Dottie watching intently.

Thinking quickly, Wanda pointed at Vision and conjured a wire for him to float from.

Y/N, noticing Wanda's actions, rushed across the stage and moved a poster board revealing the lever connected to the rope and pully.

"Ha! Do you see? He's using a rope!" Norm called from the audience.

"Wanda, what's, oh God! No! Y/N, stop her!" Vision yelled as Wanda began to pull Vision higher, to the audience's delight. "Darlings, let me down! I'm feeling pukey!"

After that line, Wanda finally lowered Vision to the ground as the audience clapped loudly.

"Thank you!" Vision smiled. "What's next? Oh, yeah, this is, this is gonna be great!" He said, moving over to the piano. "A staggering feat of strength!" He bragged, raising the piano with one hand.

The audience gasped and stared at the man in confusion.

"What do you think of that?" Vision asked the crowd.

"Illusion." Wanda gasped, struggling to think of how to fix this. "Illusion, Master of Engima, allow me." She said, wiggling her fingers subtly before rushing across the stage.

Wanda grabbed the piano out of Vision's hand, and it was replaced by a cardboard replica.

"Whoops!" Wanda gasped as she showed the audience the fake back. "You weren't supposed to see how we did that trick!" She teased, causing the audience to clap and giggle.

"That was my grandmother's piano," Jones said in the audience, watching as Wanda threw the piano to Y/N.

As the piano was removed from the stage, Vision turned his sights to the audience before excitedly exclaiming,

"Sherbert! This is my old mate Sherbert!" Vision yelled, moving towards the crowd. "Stand up, Sherbert! Say hello to the crowd!" He demanded, rushing beside the other man.

"It's Herbert. Herb." Herb clarified.

"Pipe down, Sherbie, and pick a card." Vision said, pushing the deck in Herb's direction. "Any card, now put it back in the deck." He ordered, turning his back to his neighbor. "I'm not looking. All right, watch this."

Vision halved the deck and pulled out the King of Diamonds, holding it smugly in front of Herb.

"Is this your card?"

"No." Herb shook his head.

"I beg to differ." Vision scoffed, thrusting the card towards Herb.

"It's not."

"Really?" Vision asked, cocking his head to the side. "Is this your card?" He questioned, pulling out another card.

"Vision," Y/N said from the stage, a fake smile on her face.

But Vision ignored her as he continued to pull cards from the deck.

"Is this your card? Is this your card? Is your card?" Vision kept repeating, showing cards and then throwing them to the side as Herb denied him.

"Sweetheart?" Wanda asked as cards flew everywhere.

"Is this your card?" Vision demanded, pulling out the King of Spades.

"Oh, it is," Herb said, surprised at it finally being pulled out.

"It is what?" Vision asked, staring at him in confusion.

"It's my card." Herb smiled.

"Well, pardon me, Herb. Have it back." Vision scoffed, thrusting the card into the man's hands.

"No, that's not what I meant. You did the trick right." Herb told him as Vision stormed away.

"Well, of course, I did the trick right. I'm Illusion!" Vision exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "Flourish!" He emitted, bowing deeply.

Wanda and Y/N quickly began to clap at Vision's trick', causing the audience to join.

"And now, for my next trick," Vision began to announce.

"He's still going?" Y/N whispered to her wife, who sighed.

"Where's my hat? Who stole my hat?" Vision asked, turning to see his hat on the stage floor, Senor Scratchy hopping out of it. "Oh! Stop that rabbit!" He called as Y/N, and Wanda chased after the rabbit. "I've got to pull a hat out of you!"

"Senor Scratchy's got real star quality, don't you think?" Agnes asked anyone who would listen as Wanda caught him.

"Maybe we leave the poor bunny out of this one, shall we?" Wanda questioned, stroking the rabbit's fur gently.

"That sounds swell," Y/N said, approaching Wanda with the cage.

"Well then, I will just have to pull this hat out of myself!" Vision determined, facing the audience with a grin.

"Vision no." Wanda gasped, staring at him pleadingly.

"I'm doing it."

"Don't you dare," Y/N said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ah-ha!" Vision cheered. Having ignored his wives pleading, Vision had gone ahead and pushed his hat through his torso.

The crowd didn't clap, and they didn't gasp. Everyone merely stared in confusion, not understanding what they just saw.

"If only we could tell you our secret." Y/N awkwardly smiled as Wanda wiggled her fingers.

The curtains opened behind the three, revealing a set of mirrors to the audience.

The assembled crowd let out sounds of recognition and began to clap, now understanding the trick.

"Is that how mirrors work?" Bev wondered a costume horse head on her lap.

"Shut up, Bev." Dottie scolded the other woman without even turning to look at her.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our grand finale." Vision announced as Wanda moved to get the cabinet while Y/N closed the curtains. "I bring you the Magnet of Crysteries!"

"The Cabinet of Mysteries," Wanda told the crowd, a slight snap in her tone.

Wanda was so fed up with how the day had gone that all she wanted was to get the show over with.

But she was so focused on her frustration that she never noticed, Y/N wasn't in the cabinet.

"I will now make my wife disappear!" Vision announced, opening the doors to show the crowd and shutting them before Wanda could enter.

"Are you sure you don't want an audience volunteer named "My husband Ralph?" Agnes called from the crowd.

The rest of the crowd, particularly the women, laughed at Agnes' joke.

"No. Abracadabra!" Vision cheered, tapping his wand on the cabinet door.

"Uh, Vision, sweetheart?" Wanda said from where she still stood.

"Yeah?"

"Hi." Wanda waved, causing Vision to freeze.

"Oh."

"Hiya, darlings," Y/N announced, now standing beside Vision.

"Oh." Both her partners said, now staring at her.

"What's in the box?" The crowd began to chant. "What's in the box? What's in the box?"

"What is in the box?" Vision asked, staring at his wives in confusion.

"What's in the box? What's in the box?"

Wanda pointed at the cabinet, and when she and Vision opened the doors, there stood Geraldine.

The audience all gasped at the woman's appearance before beginning to clap wildly.

"Let's bounce," Y/N said, grabbing Vision's hand and dragging him off stage with Wanda following behind.

Once away from the crowd, Vision immediately began to cry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid." Vision cried.

"Vis, it is all right," Wanda assured, putting her hands on Vision's chest.

"Vision, it's okay, everything is fine. You're not stupid." Y/N added, taking his hand in one of hers.

"But what is going on with you?" Wanda demanded of him.

"I have no idea!" Vision cried. "I've been feeling weirdy all day!"

"It's okay. We can solve this," Y/N told him soothingly.

Wanda stepped back and raised her hand towards him. She began to scan through Vision's systems and stopped in the middle of his torso.

Vision let out a groan at the sensation as Wanda's eyes widened.

Wanda worked her magic and forced the gum out of Vision's systems.

The gum forced itself up Vision's throat and out of his mouth.

"Disgusting," Y/N said, cringing at the scene.

"Well, would you look at that? That really gummed up the works, didn't it?" Vision joked, the gum that had caused so many problems between his fingers. "I'm not as funny without it, am I?" He asked when neither of his wives responded.

"Oh, honey, no," Y/N said, squeezing his hand. "You weren't funny with it either." She teased.

"Well, you're back to yourself." Wanda sighed, relieved.

"And that's all we really need," Y/N promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Now, let's get out of here before Dottie, and the planning committee, string us up for ruining the show," Wanda said to the two.

"Don't joke. The cult might actually do that." Y/N commented.

"I'm sorry, what cult?" Vision asked, looking quite concerned.

"I'll explain later," Y/N promised as the three reached the edge of the curtains.

The three tried to inconspicuously sneak away from the show but were stopped with a cry.

"You three, stop right there!"

"Oh, we're dead." Y/N cringed as the three began to turn around with grimaces adorning their faces.

"Nothing, like what the three of you just did up there, has ever happened in the history of our talent show," Dottie told the three.

"Dottie, we are so,"

"Hilarious." Dottie cut Wanda off. "That was the most hilarious act we've ever seen. Wouldn't you agree?" Dottie asked the crowd, who applauded in agreeance.

Wanda let out a relieved chuckle while Y/N grinned victoriously.

"Oh, yes, of course!" Vision exclaimed, playing along as if everything that had just happened was intentional.

"You three, come on up. Come on." Dottie ordered.

The married three all looked at one another before agreeing it was safe to move on stage.

"On behalf of the planning committee, I would like to award you with the inaugural Comedy Performance of the year," Dottie announced, handing Wanda the trophy.

The audience rose to their feet and began to cheer for the three.

Wanda, Y/N, and Vision all giddily grinned as Wanda raised the trophy, and they indulged in their moment.

Wanda heard clapping from the stage side and turned her head to see Geraldine clapping happily.

Y/N, noticing where Wanda was looking, also turned to Geraldine and began to gesture her over.

"Come on." Wanda mouthed as the other woman hesitated.

With a bit more encouraging, and Vision pulling her over, Geraldine finally moved to stand with the three, a smile on her face.

"I do have to ask," Geraldine whispered, turning her head to Vision. "One second I'm backstage, and the next, I'm in a dark cubby hole." She said as the four bowed. "How'd you do it?"

"Oh, a magician never reveals his secrets." Vision said sagely. "He leaves that to his assistants.

"And she's not talking," Y/N told the curious woman.

"Nope. Neither of them are." Wanda added with a sly smile.

"Why did I have a feeling you'd say that?" Geraldine asked with a giggle.

"For the children!" Norm called from the crowd.

"For the children!" The rest of the crowd repeated.

"It's still culty," Y/N whispered in her wife's ear.

The three were in a joyful mood as they walked home. Despite the show not going the way they had wanted it to, everything had turned out okay.

They had fit in with their neighbors, entertained their friends, and no-one was any the wiser about their secrets.

"When did you learn to salsa dance?" Wanda laughed, watching as Y/N and Vision danced down the street.

"I don't remember when I learned to, I just know it was at night, and I read many books on the subject." Vision said as he twirled Y/N out.

"Of course you." Y/N laughed before she took over the dominant role and began to lead. She then spun Vision towards Wanda.

The three continued to dance into their home, their costumes and other items balanced in skilled hands.

"You were tremendous, Glamour." Vision complimented, opening the door as Wanda dramatically fell into his arms.

"As were you, Illusion," Wanda said, grinning up at the man.

"Despite the circumstances." Y/N smiled, entering behind the two. Wanda had moved out of Vision's arms to put the trophy away, allowing Vision to wrap both arms around Y/N's waist.

"Why, thank you, Allure." Vision said, smiling down at his wife. Y/N returned the smile before leaning up to kiss the man.

"I don't know what I was so worried about." Wanda sighed, taking her seat on the couch. "It wasn't so hard to fit in at all."

"And all we had to do was be ourselves." Vision agreed, sitting to her right.

"At least the public version," Y/N smirked, sitting on Wanda's other side.

"And it was all for the children."

"For the children."

"Well, I think the children might need some popcorn," Wanda commented.

"And some coffee," Y/N added as she and Wanda rose to their feet.

"Wanda. Y/N." Vision said, stopping the two of them in their tracks.

"Hmm, what?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

As Vision rose from the couch, his gaze remained focused on their stomachs, causing the two to finally look down.

"Oh shoot." Y/N gasped, noting hers and Wanda's matching bellies.

"Is this really happening?" Wanda asked, a hand on her engorged stomach and her other on Y/N's.

"Yes, my love." Vision smiled, leaning down to kiss Wanda gently as if she would break if he applied too much pressure.

"We're gonna have a family." Y/N smiled, pressing her fingertips onto Wanda's stomach as her husband and wife pulled apart.

"We are, my dove." Vision nodded, grin still attached to his face, before leaning down and kissing Y/N with the same gentleness.

"We're pregnant." Wanda grinned, her eyes slightly glassy before she pulled Y/N into a kiss. Hers more firm than the one's Vision had done.

As Wanda kissed Y/N, there was a loud banging outside, causing the three to jump.

"If that's that damn tree again, I'm going to rip it out by the roots." Vision snapped, storming towards the door.

"Don't touch my tree, Vis!" Y/N exclaimed as she and Wanda followed after Vision.

"I don't see anything," Wanda said as the three searched the yard for the noise.

"What is that?" Vision asked, standing at the gate. Y/N and Wanda moved to see what he was looking at and saw a storm drain cover moving.

As something began to climb out, Vision moved forward and wrapped his arms around his wives protectively.

A man in a beekeeper's costume emerged, a swarm of bees surrounding him.

"No," Wanda whispered as the man's head snapped towards the three.

"We're pregnant." Wanda grinned, her eyes slightly glassy before she pulled Y/N into a kiss. Hers more firm than the one's Vision had done.

When the two pulled apart, it was as if their world was suddenly all the more vibrant.

Their home was bright, and the three were glowing.

"Everything's changing," Y/N said, looking at her partners with a grin.

"It is." Vision agreed, pulling the two women into his embrace.

"All for the better," Wanda told the two.

And it was.

Taglist will be open throughout the series.

@x-uglyprincess-x @imthedoctorlove @loveinnoya @unknownalien3388 @bindythedemon @summersimmerus @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @natasharomanoffismywife @mcsteamy4ever @monxpeet @amywinehouseisgod @milleniumloki @buckybarnesplumwhore @kennedywxlsh @drpepperobsessed @madamevirgo @superbsccissorsdeanexpert @itty-bitty-witch @essenceproxima @severusminerva @okkulta @mrscasnovak @niki-is-a-thing

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #vision x reader #vision x wanda #wandavision #avengers x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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stained-glass-salamander · 3 years ago

Note

Happy Birthday!! 🎉🎉 - First of all I want to say how happy I am having found your blog relatively recently 😊 I really enjoy your style and look forward to your work every day. Be it in a post, or in the tags. I also want to thank you for being so supportive of mine! So, thanks! 💙 I hope you'll have a wonderful birthday.

1) truth: when I read your words about MCU it immediately had me thinking about its signal function in a broader social context, so what are your insights on that?

2) dare: I woke up one night and wrote this half sleeping, haven't used it yet, so this is a prompt: "Rhythm. Everything in existence logic pattern path of least resistance repetitive. Human = chaos. Repetition is boredom. The rhythm the pulse is distorted. Life! Life is chaos. The rest geometry."

3) we'll skip three 😋

4) I'd love a prompt!

5) and a flower, of course!

But because it's your birthday, I have a flower for you as well 😊 - enjoy your day!! 🎉

Hello and thank you for such a nice message - I thought about ways and words to convey how happy I am to have you enjoy my posts because I sure do enjoy yours, but got nowhere beyond a simple thank you. Rest assured I'll definitely keep on supporting your work as there is something enchanting in the way you write that got me transfixed - maybe it is the perspective from which you see things, maybe it is the way you use words to compose what reads like a piece of music, maybe it's everything at once or nothing at all - I can't quite name one specific aspect that makes it so alluring and beautiful, alloting your poems into my personal "resplendence" category along with nice landscape views, stained glass, flowers and 19th century piano compositions. I find myself gravitating to your words over and over again, and I sure am grateful for the serendipity that allowed me to find your blog. So, thank YOU!💙

And now that I had my fan-girl moment (please don't be scared, it's just me riding out the thrill of someone whose work I admire saying they enjoy my work too 😁), let's get onto the asks. I'm going to leave it under "read more."

(note: I think I'm going to scream, no wait, I'm already screaming - I wrote an approx. 5000 characters essay about MCU and tumblr glitched, leaving me with absolutely nothing. Yeah, I know, it was stupid of me not to save the draft after I finished or write it in an actual text editor, alas, here we are. Lessons learned. So just you know why I am answering so late. And why it is brief.)

1 - Ah, the MCU. First of all, the idea of kalokagathos is, unlike God, very much alive in the western society of today. As much as people enjoy heroic stories, they want to see beautiful people in tight costumes even more (when did we as a civilisation decide it is better to cover the body in neoprene rather than observe it nude? It would make more sense to wear a mask and some kind of briefs but nothing else given the unshakeable uniformity of the hero body shape.) The need for perfection is so great we are allowing Marvel heroes to be void of anything resembling a real human personality. This is nicely illustrated in Endgame, where Thor's depression is something we are supposed to laugh at. He is no longer perfect, and we are allowed to laugh at him displaying emotions and putting on some weight, and I hate this with a burning passion. Instead of giving the audience the story of Thor overcoming what more than fifty per cent of all people worldwide suffer from with help of friends and making positive changes, he is a laughing stock. And then there is the problem with heroes coming to existence through a quick process, usually some kind of exposure to radioactivity or a different substance that "mutates their DNA" (which in itself is laughable, but let's leave that aside for today.) There is no instance of people working hard to become strong, they simply get bitten by a rabid spider and get their code changed to wake up as a beefcake in the morning. I think this is a very common symptom of our western lifestyles where fast is not fast enough anymore.

Second of all, the films are void of any profound message because everything else is oversaturated with deep messages. The target group (which is huge judging by the money Disney makes off Marvel) wants to leave their dystopian lives outside the theatre, and watch morally flat characters fight other morally flat characters. We want to engage in an escapist fever dream full of stunning visual effects simply because it is better than anything we could do for those two hours.

Another reason for so many people to love it might be their feeling of having no power over their lives whatsoever. The idea of a hero coming and saving them, however improbable and illogical it is, might bring a certain level of comfort. Films such as MCU ones know this very well and are used as a tool to steer the masses where the government wants them. That is why heroes need to fight aliens to protect the earth - Hollywood past 9/11 is nothing but a tool for pro-war propaganda, and when we look at the parallel of good heroes fighting bad aliens, we don't have to look anymore.

Now, I also want to mention comedic interjections in MCU movies. Watching a film is not unlike travelling by submarine. Where captains like Bergmann immediately drop into the depths of the Marinara trench and stay there for as long as possible, Marvel regularly resurfaces to keep people alert and ready for another part. The comedic break not only serves as a way to divide the story into more digestible chunks, but it is also an attempt to make heroes more human-like and overtakes the comedy market. I have already mentioned that 9/11 has steered Hollywood into propaganda and as such, the comedy genre took a blow. But then, in 2008, Marvel came and gave people something they can laugh about, and voila, people wanted to see more of the silly jokes.

To conclude, the popularity of the MCU stems from the disillusion a large number of people are going through in relation to the dystopian nightmare they live in. All they seek is a visually appealing epic with likeable characters that would allow them not to think about the real world for a moment.

2 - I'm going to post the prompt as a separate post :)

3 - oh thank you :D it wasn't the best idea to list this so I'm happy you left it out

4 - and I am more than happy to provide: being a sanded down shard of glass is not the end of my journey, it is merely a beginning. Where others see nothing but void I walk with a prism in my eye and birdsong in my heart.

5 - thank you so much for the flower, it's so beautiful!!! I love that it looks like a little star - and maybe it really is a star that fell from the night sky for you to find it. By the way, is that your hand in the background holding it upwards? That's so very sweet of you - you managed to position it right in the middle of the picture, so it looks very aesthetically pleasing - thank you so much 💛

I thought about what flower to give you, and picked out three:

this rose because you seem to like yellow flowers. Also, their scent is amazing and maybe the sweet fragrance would be nice and soothing to fall asleep to.

Another flower would be this beautiful peony - and as a fellow bee enthusiast, I thought you would like to see these two ladies grinding hard to get that pollen.

and the last flower I wanted to give you was these chives flowers, simply because they are a lovely shade of lilac and look like fluffy pop candy, but my cat had a different idea and didn't quite approve of me taking pictures in his garden :) so here's the little fiend instead.

thank you again for the birthday wishes - they made me very happy 🤗 and before posting, here are the encouraging words I promised: your sense of humour is amazing! I haven't stopped laughing about Nostramarkus ever since you posted about him - and what I wanted to emphasize is, even if it doesn't feel like it, you are making difference, even if it is only as simple as brightening up someone's day. So keep pushing forward, it's worth it!

#birthday prompt party

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alyssadeliv · 3 years ago

Text

The Forgotten One

First Previous

Chapter 10

Chosen One.

Marianne Al Ghul.

Mari.

Pixie.

The Lily of the Desert.

Marinette Dupain.

Ladybug.

The Great Guardian.

And now she would eventually become Marianne Wayne.

She had had multiple names and lived for what felt like a hundred lives, all very different, but all of them with one thing in common. Damian.

From the moment he was born until her first death, she lived for him. Always there to aid and protect him at all costs. At all costs. She lived for him. The only time she had something for herself, it was taken from her. So she wasn't good with owning things. Her whole life nothing was truly hers. Damian was the League’s. The Miraculous were the Order’s. She was divided between two organizations. Never truly belonging to one or the other. She ached to belong, so it was very important that she proved herself to her father. She knew she was never enough for her mother, she was indeed the second option. Useful enough to not be discarded, but not the heir she most desired.

So now. Standing in front of her Father, having imagined this moment her whole life, she had to admit, she was scared. Would he reject her too? Would she be enough?

“Father… This is Marianne, your daughter.” Damian presents her. She doesn't know how to act so she stays in place, awaiting instructions or directions, but still getting the time to analyze the man in front of her.

He was taller than she imagined, but intimidating with his Batman attire just as she had pictured. He looked at her in a cautious way, as if at any moment she would combust into flames. She kept her eye on him, looking for some sort of sign on how to act. It took some time but eventually, his expression turned to a mesmerized one.

“You look like my mother…” He whispered, reaching to her with his right hand but never touching her. His face in awe. “How… I-”

He turned his head to Damian as if he could explain more. In his face a lost and anxious expression. She could see that her little brother wanted to comfort their father, but didn't know how. So he stayed at her side, hoping that his presence was enough. Clearly, it wasn’t.

“I need to think'' And with that he turns and walks out of the cave, never even sparing a glance back. The only thing that can be heard are his footsteps, and when those are gone, an awkward silence installs.

Only then does Marianne let go of the air she didn’t even know she was holding. With not even a nod of his head father had dismissed her. He was similar to Mother after all. Only ever interaction with her if needed, just to make sure she was still alive. She could deal with that, she knew what to expect. That actually calms her more than it should. The uncertainty was still there, but at least she knew that deep down he could care for her in the future as her mother did.

“Daeh Washanuh” She tells her brother when she sees his indignant face. Her father needed time, she understood that, so for now she would let him be.

She still felt a bit weak, having spent all her energy between fighting her brother and mending her injured body. Damian must have seen said exhaustion because he instantly went to her side, to support her. With her body pressed against his side, and a strong arm crossing her waist holding her she admired how much he had grown. He was taller than her now. Stronger too. Gone was the 10 year old that followed her around. In his place was a slight better version of that person. She gives him a reassuring smile, trying to transmit her gratitude and appreciation without words, the same way she would do before they were separated. She could only hope they still understood each other after years of no contact.

Damian chooses that instant to start introducing the others. The redhead in the wheelchair looks at her with interest, as if trying to solve a puzzle. She doesn't seem to be judging her like the guy in the red leather jacket with a shocked expression is, so she counted that as a win. The dark haired teen that she knocked out a few days ago looks like he’s seen better days, and by the dark spots under his eyes and the large cup of what she assumed to be coffee in his hand, he was an insomniac, like her. The two still wearing their full costumes start to remove their masks, the one in blue has a calm expression, but the other is still very much shocked.

“Habibti... This is Richard Grayson, Timothy Drake, Barbara Gordon, and Jason-”

“Todd.” She smiles. “Long time no see.”

How could she ever forget those blue eyes that hunted her dreams. He was a big part of her past, and she would always be able to spot him in a crowd.

She can almost remember the first time she met him. At only 13 she was tasked with training this overemotional 16-year-old. Let’s just say their relationship wasn’t good at the beginning. He carried too much anger inside of him to allow him to listen to what she was trying to teach him. He was hot-headed and stubborn, and most of the time she just wanted to throw her dagger at him to see him bleed. But after some time they got close. Closer than they should.

At that time Grandfather had intensified Damian’s training so she wasn’t able to see him much, instead, she found herself around Jason a lot. They confided in each other. She gave pieces of herself to him that she never gave anyone else, only for him to be ripped from her life as punishment.

Last she heard her mother had dealt with him. She assumed she had killed him. But seeing him in front of her, healthy and very much alive was a relief. She had mourned him for a long time, but the joy she feels in knowing he was alive was immense.

“Pixie!” Jason speaks for the first time, by now he already got up from his seat, and is now standing in front of her. Different from her Father's reaction, he seems to need to touch her, to guarantee that she is real and truly there. Confused about how she knew his older adopted sibling, Damian backs away from his sister, too stunned to properly comprehend what was happening. She now was using Jason as support, feeling the heat of his body next to her’s, just proving that he was really there.

Pixie was a nickname he gave her when they first met after he discovered she could do magic. At the time she did not understand the reference, not having grown up with fairytales, but after he patiently explained to her about fairies she could see where he was coming from. Small and Magic. That was enough to describe her. And secretly she was pleased to have a nickname especially made for her. “I told you we would see each other again…” He says with a smug smirk on his face. Caressing her cheek with his hand. Oh, how she missed that look on his face.

“Am I the only one that’s freaking out with this scene in front of us?” The spell is broken by the voice of the blue hero. Richard. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. She knew a bit about him, when she was younger a part of her training was inspired by his stunts on the field. “How the hell do you know her, Jaybird? Bruce’s secret love child?”

He still holds her, more for support than anything else. It’s been a long time since they’ve been together, but their friendship hopefully still remains. She takes him not letting her go, as a sign that she wasn’t the only one affected by this unexpected reunion. When she first arrived at Gotham she knew she would inevitably meet her extended family when she finally sought her brother. And yes, it came to no surprise that Jason Todd was once her father’s ward. But remember that she did believe him to be dead. And if that was truly the case she would carry her secrets to her grave. But apparently, it was time to come clean to her brother. Her relation with Jason was the one thing she ever kept from Damian. And she could see from the look on his face that he was very confused.

She detaches herself from Jason and tries to reach her little brother, but the day's activity finally takes a toll on her body and she trips and almost collapses on the floor if not for the two that come to her rescue. Jason being the one closer to her catches most of her weight, but Damian has both her hands into his own.

“I'm fine…” She tries, but by the look on both their faces, they don’t believe her one bit.

“Dick, why don't we leave the rest of the interrogation for tomorrow? When Bruce can participate.” Barbara speaks for the first time. She pushes herself away from the table and starts making her way out of the cave in her wheelchair. It seems that her words have power, because with only a grunt and a side glance and he leaves as well. Sometime between her father leaving and Jason making himself known Timothy fell asleep, face down on the table in what could only be described as an uncomfortable position.

If she wasn’t so exhausted she would have questioned how easily Damian’s family accepted to wait until tomorrow for answers. If it was her she would want them as soon as possible. No matter what.

“Come, I’ll show you to my room” Damian removes her from Jason’s arms and starts directing her through the same path all the others took out of the cave. Tomorrow she would come back and admire all the technology and weapons the Bat Cave provided, but for now, she was content in being almost carried to a comfy bed. After almost a month of chasing Gabriel Agreste around the globe and mostly sleeping when she could, wherever she could, just the thought of sleeping in an actual mattress brought her immense joy. “I promise to not ask questions today, but I need an explanation for the display of affection you gave Todd downstairs.” His tone is stern and she knows he meant that.

"Deal." He nods, accepting my answer.

We walk through a long corridor for quite some time, but eventually, we stop in front of a door. Damian opens it and carries me to the bed. He sits me in his bed and goes to his wardrobe. While he does that she admires the size of his room, which is big, just as it was in the League, but here she can see bits of his personality. Photos on the wall, drawings on the tables. She is happy that he gets to explore his part of himself. When he comes backs he hands a change of clothes to her, and without saying anything he makes his way to what Marianne assumes is an adjacent bathroom. Leaving her room to change alone. He gave her a black long-sleeved shirt and black pajama bottoms that were definitely too small to git him now, and she can only question as to why he has it still.

She removes her attire and changes into the offered clothes, but not before inspecting the place where there was supposed to be a wound. She was healed, as expected, but her dried blood still clings to her abdomen. By now Damian finally comes back, wearing an outfit similar to hers and carrying a damp towel.

“I thought you would want to clean yourself of the blood.” He hands her the towel. She in return gives him a sincere smile, accepting the offered object and immediately removing all traces of blood from her body.

While she did that, he sat on the other side of the bed, removing some pillows and getting under the covers. Marianne leaves the towel on the floor beside the bed and carefully puts one knife on the bedside table and her dagger under her pillow. Old habits die hard after all.

Damian observes her with a nostalgic look on his face but otherwise remains silent. He turns the light off by the switch near his bed and the bedroom immediately gets dark, the only source of light coming through the closed windows. As she gets under the covers she feels his body getting closer to hers. And she can’t help but smile again, remembering how many times they did this exact same thing during their childhood without their mother knowing. Or at least they thought she didn't know, not knowing she merely allowed them this simple thing.

“Aishtaqt lak ya 'akhi” She repeats the same words she said to him when they were on the rooftop earlier that night.

Her only answer is his hand finding hers and giving it a squeeze.

Final chapter of part one! Do you like the stoy so far? After a lot of messages from you guys I decided to continue with a part 2 of this story. Still haven’t decided how long it would be, probably about 10 more chapters but who nows. Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter, its was finals week at my university and you know how it is.

Let’s hope I get more time to write! Thank you all fot the support do far! You are all amazing!

It curently 3 am so sorry if there’s any mistakes!

Taglist: @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13 @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @blackroserelina @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades @thefangirlwholiterallydies @astoriaandromeda @unnamed2357 @little-lady-bird @imdaqueenie @meismu @dorkus-minimus @a4-machete @arty-shadow-morningstar @catthhay @sizzling-fairy-oil @poodapup @charme-de-malchan @jayjayspixiepop @fusser90 @adrestar @iloontjeboontje @buginetye @macncheesemonster @messymessyml @redbullgivescaswings @queer-illusion @moonlightstar64 @kking13 @lupagrimm @dorkus-minimus @roguishredaxion @meow-6296 @galla02006 @samiamack @readingalldaysleepingallnight @twsssmlmaa @ihatecomingupwithusernameswtf @alexizlazy @lady-bee-fechin @mizzy-pop @alcoholic-barney @ladyqnoirr @wingl3ss @vroomtaka

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble.

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place.

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet.

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.”

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip.

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did.

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again.

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned.

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

#jasonette july #first aid #jasonette #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #gotham #original content #bamf marinette #sassy marinette #miraculous ladybug #maribat #dcu #red hood hears of a mystic healer and decides to check her out

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because-i-can-stuff · 4 years ago

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Life will always find a way

Dick Grayson x Y/N Roth

A/N: I haven’t written something like this in a long time and I just started watching Titans on Netflix (been a year since then) and been reading a bunch of fics and I kind of had this one stuck in my head. So tell me what you think and enjoy.

I forgot this even existed and was just sitting in my drafts so I guess I am posting this now

-Flashback-

It was one of those rare rainy days in San Francisco, you were just closing the small café you were working at. It was a busy day and the shop closed a little later than usual, meaning it was already beginning to get dark outside.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you pulled the hood over your head trying to protect yourself from the weather. Today was just a day that couldn’t get any worse you thought to yourself.

It started with an alarm that didn’t go off, making you late for the first lecture of the day, the day at USF seemingly lasting forever and instead of heading home, you still needed to work. Life was dull and the universe was testing you, first your best friend passed away, then essays and other projects piling up and the excessive amount of work hours, happiness just wasn’t an option at the moment.

And now this, the rain, the darkness and the constant feeling of being followed.

Picking up your speed in hopes of getting home faster you took a shortcut not really thinking of the consequences but being reminded in a second, as somebody slammed you into a wall from behind, shocking you for a moment before regaining your composure and getting ready to defend yourself.

When suddenly a figure appeared behind your nightly attacker and ripped him off of you and started beating the crap out of him.

Your nightly saviour appeared to be some kind of masked vigilante , at least that’s what you guessed from the costume adorning a cape and the mask covering his eyes. Watching the fight scene unfold before you, the vigilante overpowering your attacker with ease, resulting with the stranger running away, yelling profanities.

The vigilante focussed his attention onto you, looking you up and down and you doing the same, noticing the wet mop of brunette hair framing his face and the chocolate brown eyes peaking from behind the mask., as well as the well-toned body adorned by the costume.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” he asked sincerely.

“I’m alright, maybe a bruise or two but nothing I can’t handle. Thank you by the way”

“Robin” he interrupted

“Well, thank you, Robin. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m sure you have more pressing matters at hand so why don’t you take care of these and let me take care of myself.” You stated rather annoyed, not only annoyed by him but this whole day.

“Oh, well, okay… then I guess I will just leave you be” Robin stated quite unsure and disappeared within a moment.

Sure, you felt kind of bad about your behaviour, but you just wanted to get home, get cosy and cry yourself to sleep, the usual routine since your best friend passed away.

The next day promised to be a better one, with the alarm actually going of, the sun peaking from behind the clouds and you being on time for the lectures that day with the prospect of not having to work today and finally getting started on some essays.

Making your way to your favourite coffee shop, ordering a cappuccino and sitting down in a quiet corner, you unpacked your notebook and started typing, tuning out the world around you, therefore not noticing that somebody joined you at your table.

Only noticing your company after a small cough, looking up a young man around your age sat in front of you, with deep chocolate brown eyes, well styled brunette hair and a smile to match his handsome face.

“Can I help you?” you ask the mysterious stranger

“Hi” he answers with a charming smile “I just noticed you sitting by yourself and I don’t know… Obviously you are doing work or something, but I don’t know… there is something about that I just thought I really want to get to know the beautiful woman behind the notebook”

Normally you would turn down such advances, but today, you were feeling a little bit better about yourself than the last weeks and he wasn’t that bad looking, charming on top of that. And maybe he was just what you needed to distract you from the grieving and the stress.

“Well, thank you for the compliment, you are not so bad looking yourself.” You tried to flirt “My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady” he charmed “It’s very nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Dick Grayson”

“Finally, a name and a full face to the alias. I didn’t think I was so intriguing that a vigilante had to get to know me, but I am flattered, Robin” I whispered making sure nobody heard what I was telling him.

Dick looked shocked and started stammering, before asking “What are you talking about? You are making no sense.”

“Look, I am not going to tell anyone, but I’m quite good with remembering faces and I got a good look at yours and the only difference between yours and Robins is the fact that you are not having a black mask over your eyes. Same hair, same eyes, same smile, same face structure. Just face it, I figured it out and that pretty fast.”

Thus, began a fast forming friendship which evolved into friends with benefits really quick and after some time even into lovers pursuing a serious relationship, finding an abrupt end with no explanation, just a last night filled with love and a morning after with an empty bed and a note saying

Goodbyes are never easy, but this is one of the hardest. I knew I couldn’t tell you face to face and I know it’s cowardly to tell you this way, but I just know that you would’ve somehow changed my mind. By the time you’ve read this, I will already be on my way out of this city on the way towards a new destination. I am really sorry. I love you and I’ll miss you and hope you somehow understand.

- Dick

-Flashback end-

“And you tell me all of this now, Rachel?! I knew I should’ve just taken with me as soon as Mom died. I can’t believe I let you do all this to find your real parents just because I thought going with a detective would be a good idea. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, I could’ve somehow helped you. And I am furious that you lied to me, that everything was fine and just now you’re telling me the whole truth. I don’t know what to say Rachel…” you told your sister agitated over the phone.

“Y/N… I was fine and I am fine. I made new friends and they protected me just fine. And I didn’t tell you because I knew you would’ve been there in a second to protect me but you also have a child to think about and I rather know you and Ricky are safe…”

“And I rather know that you are safe, Rachel. I would’ve figured something out.” You interrupted your little sister

“I know, I know… but there is nothing we can do about that now. Everything is fine. Well, anyway… What I originally wanted to tell you was that we are actually on the way to San Francisco. Apparently, there is some safe house where the Titans used to stay and we get to live at. So, I finally get to see my big sister and my cute little nephew” Rachel told you excitedly

“I am so happy to finally see you again and so is Ricky. But are you sure you don’t want to move in with us?” you were still being vary of Rachel living with a bunch of guys

“Yes, I am sure, it’s safest for me and also for you two, I don’t want to get you in danger because of me. I have done that a lot these past few weeks and I really don’t want to risk it. She assured you

“Okay, I understand. Even though we both know that I could handle it.” You told her with a smile “Come visit us as soon as possible. We miss you”

After your phone call with Rachel you went into your 3-year-old sons’ room to tell him, that his aunt would come visit soon. Ricky sat contently in the middle of the room surrounded by a bunch of toys playing with his favourite car. You admired your little angel with his brunette locks and chocolate brown eyes, reminding you so much of his father. Ricky looked so much like him, but he still got your gorgeous smile and good-natured spirit.

#dc titans #titans imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #titans imagines #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n

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sarahjtv · 3 years ago

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BNHA Chapter 317 Spoiler Analysis: Everything Hurts and I’m Dying

The BNHA Chapter 317 leaks are out, I can’t wait until Sunday this time, and I’m fuckity sad as hell 😭. We have more Deku angst and more Dad Might angst. Also pro hero angst. But, there’s Shoto Todoroki crumbs! I’m happy about that. Maybe the POV will change to the students soon. At least I hope. I want an update on them:

We do get a cover page for this chapter and it looks amazing! Like really, Horikoshi-sensei is snapping hard with the art in these recent chapters. Deku just looks amazing. The detail in the pen lines in on this page is incredible. I can’t imagine the amount of work and patience that went into making this. It reminds me of the hard work Berserk’s mangaka, Kentaro Miura, went into drawing his manga. I wonder if this is a homage of some sorts. Kinda to honor Miura’s passing in a way.

But yeah, Deku looks so good, but he’s so, so tired. His eyes are practically black, his costume is more torn than before, his metal mask is crumbling from the damage it’s taken, and there are obvious bags under his eyes. That bright-eyed Izuku Midoriya we knew in the past is almost entirely gone. Deku’s seen shit and he is exhausted from all of it. I truly want this kid to get some sleep and take a shower in something other than the rain. I honestly don’t know how much longer his mentality’s going to last at this point. I’d say 1-2 more chapters maybe.

The Pro Heroes and Deku managed to survive the blast from the last chapter thank god. Unfortunately, they’re back to square 1 on AFO and Shigaraki’s whereabouts. Edgeshot suggest taking to Lady Nagant to get some more info, but she’s still unconscious in the hospital. He also suggest that OFA should be finally be known to the public in order to gain more allies and support Deku. This pretty much confirms that Edgeshot, Mt. Lady, and Kamui Woods know about OFA at this point. I wonder if other heroes like Mirko and Aizawa know now too. Actually, given that Deku told all of his classmates, Aizawa most likely knows now too.

And thing is, yeah, telling more people about OFA will probably give Deku more allies, but it will also put massive targets on their backs too. More villains will go after Deku as well. This Quirk was kept a secret for a reason after all. It would be a big risk if they choose to release the info on OFA.

A flashback comes in showing that Death Arms (the big bulky Pro Hero who Jiro did her first internship with) has given up. The booing managed to overweigh the cheers of heroism. It’s a small scene, but Death Arms was actually one of the first Pro Heroes we ever saw in the series. He helped protect the citizens back when the giant villain was attacking the city. It’s honestly sad to see one of the first heroes in the series give up after everything the world has come to.

Back to the present, more Pro Heroes are giving up every day and some are even leaking info to the media. Which means that people are getting close to finding out about the truth of OFA. That also means people will start blaming Deku more. The last thing Deku needs is to be blamed for something he didn’t do. That would make things so much worse for him.

Mt. Lady (who has a vertical scar on top of her left eye now) brings up a good point here: AFO could leak out the truth about OFA at any point, but he hasn’t. He has to have a reason behind that. Maybe he thinks that would be too easy. Maybe AFO wants to play with his chess pieces more before killing them off. Maybe he just wants to see all his enemies suffer first.

Also, can I just point out how cool it is to see Mt. Lady act as a real Pro Hero? At the beginning of the series, it was clear she was only in it for fame and glory. If she was the same as before, she would’ve retired by now. But instead, she’s actively helping Deku out as his ally and keeping him safe. You love to see that character development.

AND NOW WE HAVE SHOTO CRUMBS 💙😭!!!! No new panels except for the flashback back in Central Hospital, but he did leave a missed call for Endeavor and a message asking him to call him back. Given Shoto’s relationship with Endeavor right now, things are probably still slowly improving with them. And what Shoto found must be incredibly important given that he wants to talk to Endeavor immediately. Is it about Dabi? Is it about Deku??? Maybe both???? I mean, Shoto has to know that Endeavor is working with Deku, right? I think? CAN HE BRING DEKU HOME MAYBE??? IDK, I’M JUST HAPPY TO HEAR MY ICY-HOT BOY AGAIN IN THE MANGA I WILL TAKE WHAT I CAN GET, HORIKOSHI 💙🤍❤️😭

In the meantime, Hawks gets a call from All Might and Deku managed to easily defeat a hired villain. And good god Deku looks so badass and haunting here. That villain is slumped and Deku’s holding him with one big strand of Blackwhip with ONE FINGER. Deku took that villain out effortlessly. He really has gotten stronger with OFA. I’d be scared of this kid if I faced him.

After the villain is captured, Deku is ready to leave immediately after. But, Dad Might is so worried about his green son 😭! All Might tries to reason with Deku and tries to give him a bento box, but Deku refuses and says that All Might doesn’t need to follow him anymore because he can take care of himself now like All Might did in his prime and he doesn’t want All Might to get hurt. THE PANELS THAT GO WITH THIS SCENE MAKES ME CRY SO MUCH!!! ALL MIGHT TRIES TO REACH FOR DEKU’S HAND BEFORE HE LEAVES, BUT HE CAN’T SO HE TRIPS ON THE GROUND AND THE BENTO BOX FALLS ON THE GRASS AND ALL MIGHT HAS FLASHBACKS TO WANTING TO PROTECT DEKU AND HE’S SO WORRIED OH MY GOD I CAN’T DO THIS HORIKOSHI WHY *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*😭😭😭

All Might thinks on how he should’ve told Deku to get some rest instead of letting Deku go. God, All Might is honestly the best Dad for Deku next to Aizawa. Screw you, Hisashi, you can stay overseas wherever the hell you are. There’s also a panel of Stain who listened in on Deku and All Might’s conversation. I don’t think Stain will kill All Might since Stain considered All Might to be one of the true heroes out there (he might encounter Deku though if we’re going by how Deku encountered Muscular and Overhaul). But, I am worried that All Might will die somehow before Deku can come back to see him. Which would absolutely kill me. Imagine if Deku comes back to All Might on his deathbed and that’s the last conversation they will ever have until Deku sees All Might in the vestige world. God, I would cry for weeks if that happened.

So, over the weeks, Deku has kind of become an urban legend all over Japan apparently. They would see him as someone who appears silently and has multiple Quirks. They say his body is full of wounds, blood, and mud (Deku need a real shower bad, someone get Wash). It’s interesting how Deku’s become this kind of myth that’s been going on in Japan. Like, he’s this mythical being that no one really knows about but is like their dark guardian angel protecting them from harm. Very much like a vigilante.

The final panel shows Deku looking like a monster/demon with OFA going and Blackwhip coming out of his arms all Venom like and his clothes are in even more tatters (his other Mid-Gauntlet on his right arm is broken now too). The last dialogue bubble has a citizen say that “I heard he doesn’t look like a hero at all” This last page is so, SO well done! Horikoshi has been giving us nothing but straight 🔥 since this arc began. Deku looks nothing like that wide-eyed hero-in-training we knew before the war arc. That glimmer in his eyes is all but gone. I can’t believe that sweet broccoli boy has descended into this dark vigilante who’s mental state is on the brink of breaking. He’s still as badass as ever though. Like, Deku really looks like a villain here, but we know he’s not. Horikoshi really likes Venom as much as he loves Spider-Man I think. This is like Venom mixed with Batman/Arkham. It’s like the series went from happy Marvel to dark DC in the best way possible. It’s honestly great. But, I’m so worried about Deku and All Might. I want the kids (specifically Bakugo or Shoto) and Aizawa to fetch them and bring them home. Even if it resorts to fighting to drag Deku back. Deku can’t keep isolating himself like this forever; he needs all the help he can get. His friends can more than handle their own. Again, I’ll give him 1-2 chapters until Deku breaks entirely.

Me sobbing from pain and angst throughout the entire chapter:

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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years ago

Text

They've Made of Our Bodies a Bleeding Stair

Jesper and Kaz try to retrieve Inej from Ketterdam without being recognized and murdered—and without Kaz getting ransomed back to Ravka as the the wayward Sun Summoner.

11k | Sun Summoner Kaz AU pt. 2 | Jesper/Kaz, Inej, past Kaz/Darkling content note: non-linear narrative, explicit sex, roleplay of past rape

“I want you to be him.”

“Of course,” Jesper replies. Then, articulately, once his brain’s caught up, “Uh. What?”

“The Darkling.” Kaz has turned his face away. He’s looking at the ramshackle marriage bed that takes up the bulk of this room he’s lured Jesper into. He unerringly picked the right closed door, too; he skipped the squeaky floorboards, as if he knew the exact layout of this—but it’s Kaz. He knows everything, even some dilapidated house in the Kerch countryside. The bed was probably a masterpiece of craftsmanship, when it was carved from some dark wood, a thousand years ago or whatever. The way it looks, it must’ve been old already when the previous owners of this farmhouse got it, and from the state of the house, they abandoned this place decades ago. Quite a lot of the furniture’s missing, either sold off when the place was left or stolen afterwards, but that bed was too worthless already.

The mattress is still there too. Probably fucking teeming with moth larvae and maggots and their combined accumulated shit, so it doesn’t bode too well for Jesper, how forcefully Kaz is staring at it.

“Please say it doesn’t involve the bed.”

“You said yes,” Kaz rasps, which is all the information Jesper needs to start gagging. Fake-gagging, for now, but if he sees even one wriggly little worm he’ll…

Bed. Darkling. That still doesn’t really… Want you to be him—oh—

“Yes, Jesper.” And how the hell with his ramrod tense back still turned towards Jesper—Jesper, who’s done nothing at all, hasn’t said anything except to register his displeasure at the idea of bathing in insect faeces and their squirming little manufacturers!—how the hell Kaz has realized that Jesper’s figured out what he probably means—it must be a confidence trick. Kaz likes those. But how—yeah, it’s not the point, but trying to understand whatever magic Kaz is using on him right now is much, much better for Jesper’s sanity than dwelling on the fact that Kaz might just have insinuated that he wants Jesper to pretend to be the Darkling, specifically the Darkling from that time he told Jesper about back in the Little Palace, the time he threw up after. The time he thought he could suppress his discomfort with touch long enough to seduce the Darkling into a partnership—seduce seduce, which means he wants—to flirt with Jesper? To sleep with Jesper? Is he actually saying he—

Oh. There’s a cracked mirror on the wall above the bed. That’s how Kaz saw his face.

Jesper would chalk the hallucination up to a hangover, but he’s not even drunk. Neither is Kaz, unless this old ruin of a farmhouse they broke into this morning is hiding barrels of wine the local youth haven’t made off with yet. Also, if he was hallucinating Kaz propositioning him he would—well, Jesper at least hopes he’d have enough self-respect not to make himself a stand-in for the man who bought and imprisoned Kaz for two years, controlled him by using his fears and modifying his body and cutting him off from every other person in the whole court, taking every single object he could have used to protect himself, and whatever those weird spines in Kaz’ chest are he’s probably responsible for them too. Jesper would not, actually, like the first and probably only time he’s allowed to kiss Kaz to be some kind of revenge-by-proxy thing where he recites the Darkling’s lines while Kaz swallows back bile, and then Kaz beats him up. Or murders him. It’s pathetic, but Jesper always imagined that kiss a little sweeter. Kissing over Haskell’s corpse. Kissing over the Darkling’s corpse. Kissing over the corpse of some other piece of shit who’s stupid enough to try using Kaz as their possession.

“Just warning you, I don’t have the costume or the script, so don’t expect something worthy of the Komedie Brute,” is what Jesper says instead.

Kaz’ eyebrow quirks. “You’re acted before, haven’t you? Improvised. You can flirt your way into anything. That was the main reason I kept you around.”

“You kept me around because I’m gorgeous, funny, and an incredible shot. I just play myself, if it’s seduction! Why would I improve upon perfection?”

“This isn’t seduction. He’s already locked me in the Little Palace for months at this point. Two escape attempts have failed. This is… speeding up the process,” Kaz says, nonchalantly enough it makes Jesper want to puke.

Which won’t help anything. He’s already agreed. And Kaz doesn’t care about moral objections, only practical ones. “I need more info. I haven’t actually met the Darkling.”

“You’ve met powerful men. You’ve met men who believe their righteous cause entitles them. You’ve met men mired in greed and vengeance—you’ve met me.”

“I like you.”

“Pretend you don’t, then. You used to complain about me in the Slat—of course I know, I knew everything that went on in the Dregs. You hated the way I seemed to know everything, and held it over you—so does he. You disliked my single-minded focus, the way you all seemed like pawns to me, my mockery. The way I held myself as something far superior to you. That’s a start.” Kaz limps a slow quarter circle around Jesper, and his dark eyes are burning with loathing. Jesper would hold him if he could. “You’re not asking why?”

“Uh, now that you mention—”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

Jesper sighs. Of course. He’s never expected anything else. Then he stands up straight, assuming his best the stick in my ass is so long it’s knocked the word fun from my brain pose that hopefully may pass for authoritative and slimes out, “What business, Mr Brekker?”

“Sun Summoner. Or Sunshine. He figured out Brekker’s a fake name on the first day.”

“Kaz Brekker’s a fake name?!” Jesper should have seen that coming, really… what does he even know about Kaz Brekker, truly? Except—

“It’s a name. It’s real enough. It’s feared. It’s mine.” Kaz’s eyes travel over the cobwebbed wall of the farmhouse bedroom, as if he was searching for the next lie to spin. Except that isn’t one of Kaz’ tells—Jesper’s seen him bamboozle and convince marks of the most stupid tales, and when Kaz wants them to believe him, he looks earnest. Young, depending on the role he plays, old, eager, stupid or wise. He doesn’t bother lying to Dregs, or rather: he doesn’t bother convincing them, usually. All his words are backed by the brutality of his cane. Who could be stupid enough to question even his weirdest utterances. “It just happens not to be one I was born with.”

“So what you’re saying is, the Darkling’s just not Kerch enough to get you?” Jesper grins. “Ketterdam, really—you know, I always really liked that about the Barrel, that healthy dose of ‘You are who you want and we don’t give a fuck to correct you.’ Anyway. Got it. You’re Kaz Brekker, but he’s a dick. Mr Sunbeam, what brings you into my office this evening?”

“The fete, Aleks.” Kaz shrugs off his coat, and then the purple kefta, too. He holds out the kefta in front of him, like he’s expecting Jesper to put it on. Well. That’s as good a start as any, and so Jesper turns and lets Kaz dress him into the robe he never wanted to wear.

“Then he says, ‘You must be nervous. After all, there are few gatherings in the Ketterdam slums that involve such spectacle.’” Kaz has sanded down his rasp somewhat, sounding almost smooth and seductive. He goes into a spiel of the Ravkan court and the inferiority of the Barrel that thankfully, he carries all by himself. Jesper wouldn’t even know what to say, except ‘Stop talking shit about the Barrel, you prick’ and that’s not exactly in character.

Kaz’ eyes periodically dart down to Jesper’s hands, and he realizes he’s fidgeting with the hem of the kefta’s sleeves. He stops.

“I am ready,” Kas says in his normal voice. His normal talking to a mark voice. “I realized what this demonstration represents—that I belong to something greater. It is as you said—we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope. We. Together.” He stands up straight. Equally on both his legs. He winces. He’s not holding his cane, Jesper realizes. He’s not wearing his gloves. “I am ready to stand by your side. We should be partners. The Sun and the Dark.”

“Uh… great. We’ll be great together. Do great things. Better partners than enemies. Some of those rumours even freaked me out, you know—that kid with the wind-up toy in his throat—”

“Think before you speak, Jesper,” Kaz hisses. “Never let me lead. Never give me control. Every word is a cue to corral your prey where you want it—whether a compliment or a barely-there hidden threat.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Sometimes.” Kaz meets Jesper’s eyes. The tense mask of his face breaks into a smirk. “To be honest, I find the subtle craft of manipulation is wasted on you. You’ll obey anyway. Let’s go back to the start, and focus.”

Jesper shrugs off the kefta again and then lets Kaz dress him, again. He does his best imitation of Kaz, of that early Kaz before Jesper learned how he takes his coffee and before he saw the brutal twist of his face, that one time when the Dime Lions had Jesper on his knees and shoved a gun in his mouth. He plays the imperious tactician in his office who told his goons to drag Jesper up four flights of stairs with a bag over his head, ready to be shot for his debts, and then sold him on the one thing that gave his life meaning.

He insults Dirtyhands’ father and mother to his face, and gets really into it, too: Ketterdam’s full of idiots who’d miss the love of their life because they were busy trying to pry cobblestones off the streets to sell for half a sausage, and the harbour’s so filthy even the fish won’t fuck in it—keeping the brothels in good fish-ness, haha. Because the fish rent rooms so they don’t get fishy sex diseases from the water. Do fish get diseases from sex?

“Kill me now,” Kaz moans, and that one’s probably deserved.

“Anyway, my Sun Summoner, I’m sure you’ll perform well,” Jesper says with just the tiniest hint of slime.

“I am ready. I realized what this demonstration represents—that I belong to something greater. It is as you said—we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope. We. Together.”

Jesper moves slowly, idly: not caging him in against the bed yet but definitely implying he can and will.

“I am ready to stand by your side. We should be partners. The Sun and the Dark.” Kaz swallows. “‘That means a lot to me. You mean a lot,’ is what you say now.”

How come the Darkling’s not constantly slipping on his own slimy slime trail?

“That means a lot to me.” Jesper gives Kaz a deep, smouldering look. The pockmarks on his cheeks. The jumping muscle in his jaw. The hint of a pained grimace from standing unaided. The boyish grin when he’s totally fucked over another gang boss and gets to gloat. The vicious hatred when someone touches his Crows. Licking powdered sugar off his gloves. “You mean a lot.”

And that’s it. The way Kaz looks at him—this is when the Darkling makes his move.

“I have been waiting for you for so long,” Jesper purrs smarmily, closing his eyes, moving in for the kiss, and—Kaz isn’t there anymore.

It was a single step backwards, because Kaz has hit the edge of the bed already, face blotched with humiliation, and the way he looks at Jesper is—angry is the least terrible interpretation. If he backs out now, Kaz is going to kill him for pitying him or catering to a weakness that honestly—how is not wanting this weak? But Kaz is Kaz, and Jesper’s just Jesper, and—

“Focus,” Kaz hisses. “You own Ravka. You will own the Sun, too. You have waited for this triumph—take it.”

“Why don’t we take this to the—” fuck you, Brekker, for making me say this— “bed, then? Take off your clothes. Don’t be scared.”

That’s a good dig. The kind of insult that looks super caring, unless you know Kaz enough to understand he sees any crack in his image as a dangerous failure. Jesper’s getting the hang of this malicious flirting thing, finally. When this is over, he’ll need to scrub the slime off himself twice.

Kaz looks at Jesper while he disrobes. At him, Jesper hopes against hope, at the real person he’s roped into his worst scheme yet with a goal that’s still totally obscure; at Jesper and not the asshole he’s imagining in his place. Kaz’ eyes trace his cheeks, dance over his shaved head, catch on the lips.

Jesper takes off his boots and gun belt, and the kefta. He undoes the fly of his trousers, pulls his dick out, and stops. He glares at Kaz, daring him to object to the attempt at making this slightly less miserable—Jesper’s the Darkling, he’s in charge, so Kaz can fuck off with his masochism. He’s done undressing. He’s not taking off his shirt or trousers. That layer of cloth stays on.

But Kaz doesn’t object. He stands up straight, naked, brittle, wincing, and then glancing away he mutters, “Ignore the antlers. He hadn’t done that yet.”

Fucking Darkling.

The antlers stick out of Kaz’ collarbones, uneven tines of—possession, mutilation, and Jesper’s eyes catch on a tiny set of grooves on the left one. The scabbed-over cuts underneath. The bruise from the gunshot. And even despite that horror, Kaz has a nice chest. Serious muscle, a street map of scars and a smattering of dark hairs—it feels weirdly improper to stare at him, so Jesper’s eyes dance down to his knobbly left knee and the softly twisted right thigh with its knots of scars, up to the face where he’s biting his harsh pretty mouth, and down again. His dick is nice, fat but not too long, rooted in a tangle of dark curls.

It’s utterly limp.

It’s pathetic, how much that hurts. Of course he isn’t into this. Of course he doesn’t find Jesper remotely attractive. Of course this is just some weird masochistic proxy powerplay for him, some attempt to prove he’s stronger now and can bear it or whatever the fuck, and Jesper’s just the sad stupid body he’s using to enact it.

And of course not even that is enough to make Jesper bow out. Kaz asked.

“Do you want me to suck you off first? Get you in the mood, even a little?” It’s not just for Kaz, that offer, though the whole thing will probably be less painful and awkward if he manages to coax out some arousal. It’s not for younger Jesper, who fantasized about being ordered to blow his boss as penance more often than he likes to admit. No, this is so Jesper can bury his face in Kaz’ pubic hair for a minute. And cry.

Kaz raises an eyebrow. He sounds arch and ice cold when he asks, “Jesper, do you think the Darkling would suck my dick?”

“He should have. Saints, what an asshole,” Jesper shoots back before he can think. “You need a better class of lovers.”

“By which you’re of course implying that you are much better than Aleksander Morozova, the General Kirigan, the Black Heretic, eternal Conqueror and crowned Emperor of Greater Ravka, Salvation to Grishadom, Master of the Fold and He who chained the Sun, et cetera and so fucking on and so fucking forth the Darkling himself?”

“Given I just offered you a blowjob without bringing useless power shit into it, yes.”

“Wrong data, incoherent formula. Correct answer.” Kaz’ grin is crooked. Inordinately fond, and Jesper would have settled for no longer desperately hiding terror but this is—

Yeah.

“I’m going to try to make this roleplay as realistic as I can, but I don’t know if I can forget enough about how to have sex to sink to the Darkling’s level. Also, you don’t happen to have the address of that Grisha Tailor who mutilated you back there? I need them to make my dick look weird. Corkscrew, maybe. Some warts. It’s probably green. I’d peg him for advanced neurological syphilis but I am about to sleep with you, so— ”

“Did you know, Jesper, that the Darkling always wears a gag when he has sex?”

“Shutting up now, boss.”

“Don’t shut up,” Kaz replies instantly. Very, very instantly. “Just keep your disparagements somewhat plausible. And… rare.”

Only to jolt me back, he’s asking. “Got it. So I guess I’m supposed to loom over you a little? How close do you want me?”

“I’ll need to—” Kaz turns around and bends over to root around in the pockets of his coat, and it’s even weirder, worse, looking at his ass when Jesper knows Kaz doesn’t like him back. Kaz tosses over a tiny bottle. Oil. “Give that to me. Tell me to prepare myself.”

“Just saying it once more, boss. You don’t have to go through with—”

“Stop thinking about the Kaz Brekker you know,” Kaz hisses. “Stop anticipating my reactions. Stop caring. You are the Darkling. You have been waiting for the Sun Summoner for decades. You’ve formed your picture of them. This delinquent flinching little rat you bought doesn’t quite fit, not his limp, not his fear of touch, not his pathetic need to assert himself, but, well… you have time. He’ll learn how to make himself fit into the space you provide him. He’ll become your Sun Summoner.”

“Have I told you yet that I’m going to kill that piece of shit?”

“You’ve mentioned it, once or twice. In the last hour.”

Jesper bares his teeth: a grin, but not. A promise. “Good. I’ll hold his mouth open while you stuff him full of black powder and set him on fire.”

“Stop stalling, Jesper. That won’t make it any easier.”

That won’t make it not have happened.

“If you’re sure this will help.”

Kaz nods.

“Lie down on the bed, then. Is there a—no, no pillows here, roll up the coat and slide it under your hips.” Jesper turns his face away, listening to the timid, stuttering squelches of Kaz stretching his asshole. Jesper doesn’t know what would be worse: if, after everything, he can’t get it up… or if he can.

Well. He’ll have to. His dick will just have to obey the dictates of the situation, just as Kaz’ body was made into the Sun Summoner. He’s young. He’s still looking at Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, naked, who asked Jesper to sleep with him, and that’ll have to be enough. They’ve gotten this far. They’ll force their way through. That’s how you do it. That’s how you gamble. How you lose big. Kaz might have once tried to explain to him something about sunk costs and throwing good money after bad, but Jesper ignored him that night and lost a hundred and twenty kruge to Specht, and he’s never looked back.

“Okay, Mr Sunshine. Let’s consummate our fucking partnership,” he grinds out when Kaz has gone quiet, takes the bottle to slick up his own uncooperative dick, and carefully, he climbs on top of Kaz. The clothes were a good decision: Kaz barely flinches when he kneels in-between his legs and pulls the sleeve over his hand to carefully guide his right knee to rest on Jesper’s thigh.

Kaz is staring up at his face, breathing, just breathing. The antlers in his collarbone frame his bright face—brighter than the candles should allow, like maybe—and his focus is rigid and he’s breathing, breathing quickly—

“Is this teaching you anything yet?”

“Not really,” Kaz rasps, after too long. “Or—I think—maybe it was—” he glances at Jesper’s pathetic, unhappy limp dick. His face twists. “I thought you were into me.”

This is— “I love you. Kaz Brekker, whoever you are. I don’t give a fuck about this Sun Summoner bullshit. I love you. I love you,” because this is—Jesper can’t do this. He can’t. His elbows are locked: he can’t drop his body any lower. He can't go lower than this. “I love you,” until it’s finally over. “I love you. I love you.”

☼

“And I’m telling you again, I don’t know what he does Tuesday evenings,” Jesper hisses.

“You were still with the Dregs, three months ago!” Kaz is wiping his cane clean. It didn’t even really get dirty—they mostly used kitchen knives to do the deed, and in the case of a maidservant who unwisely came to work in the middle of the night, a bullet that Jesper’s already collected and reshaped into something functional, because he might not get to buy new ones. Desperation. Frugality. The Kerch are rubbing off on him. It’s good, though. The fact he’s cleaning the wood is all the confirmation Jesper will likely ever get that Kaz does like the new cane Jesper made him from a cute straight rowan sapling, reinforced with the metal scavenged from all but the most essential buttons on their hodgepodge of clothes. At least there’s one thing of Jesper’s he values. “How can you not know the behavioural patterns of your boss? Are you that brainless?”

“No-one knew what he was up to! He barely came by the Slat. He wasn’t that interested in us.”

“You worked for Per Haskell, Jesper; you worked for that man for years—for nearly as many as I did, when you ran off to Ravka—and now you attempt to convince me you barely know his name?” Kaz still doesn’t look quite as harsh as he used to, or maybe that’s just Jesper hankering for their past. Well, he didn’t used to explain his plans to Jesper as if he was an imbecile—but then, he didn’t used to need Jesper. He had more stooges back then. Now, he only has one. Ally. Friend.

If it’s as weird for him, though, as it is for Jesper being back in Ketterdam after he didn’t die on his revenge suicide plot and the city didn’t, either—well, he might still get murdered for stealing the Sun Summoner or skipping out on debts or something completely unrelated, and Ketterdam’s… well, she’s weathering having her ruling class torn apart twice in short order, once by the Darkling’s conquest and now, by the slow collapse of the Darkling’s overstretched realm after he’s lost his saint/weapon/doll.

The Barrel’s fine—as glary and miserable as it ever was, anyway, but though Kaz would probably insist most of the Mercher’s Council had their hands in gang business one way or the other, their reach was indirect, mediated and secretive enough for the chaos tearing up the Geldstraat not to trickle down as quickly into the slums. And anyway, the involvement of the merchers only ever made life worse for most people. The plight of the rich can only be a blessing.

Right now, they’re inside a nice place in the Zelver district. Close enough to power to feel the death throes, and even disregarding the political manoeuvring and debris and panic everywhere, just looking at the house from the outside made Kaz twitchy, somehow.

His energy almost matched Jesper’s trigger finger.

It’s Haskell’s house, so that unease makes sense.

Haskell’s expensive secret new house far outside the Barrel that they’re despoiling now. They looked as out of place in the beautiful Zelver district as any Barrel rats, with their heads shorn close to the bone so they’ll look different enough to not get recognized and faces wiped with dirt, dressed in a melange of Ravkan clothes they haven’t found a chance to replace yet and tawdry Barrel flash for everything else.

Kaz was wearing two coats when he entered the house, an old rose and amber paisley trench that even Jesper admitted is hideous, though now it’s splattered with blood that actually really ties the colour scheme together. Still gross though, and luckily slung over the chair. Along with the purple kefta Kaz hid underneath, the one he still hasn’t given back. Or burned, which is what they did to the other Ravkan overcoats. On the streets his two coats bulked up his frame so much he looked like a kid that Jesper’s never met, dressed up to play a gangster’s role. He looked nothing like the Sun Summoner anymore, and only somewhat like Jesper’s imagined baby Dirtyhands crawling out straight from the harbour, fifty kilos sopping wet and ready to kill a man and feast on his entrails.

Now, he’s stripped down to a ruffled red shirt over a green undershirt—he conspicuously shunned the yellow one next to it on the washing line—and light blue pinstripe trousers. The shirt is a little large in the shoulders, and he’s cuffed the trousers. They stole everything from a cottage on the edge of Ketterdam. Not quite Barrel flash, but almost—alike in style but with better fabric, something a town edge kid probably bought to look like a cool gangster. Or something Jesper would have bought to look special for a very special date. If he squints, he can almost imagine—it’s the morning after, and—

Ever since the Little Palace the idea of Kaz naked has totally lost its lustre. The idea of his muscular but scrawny, scarred chest, his wiry tattooed arms, his ambiguously demonic hands—it’s all overlaid now with a flimsy ugly sleeveless yellow paper taffeta gown. With normal hands, kept bare as humiliation.

But maybe—maybe they sat together, not on a log in a forest but on a sofa this time, and then in the morning Kaz was cold and he stole all of Jesper’s clothes to wear over his own. That’s much better. (Maybe he just wanted Jesper naked all day…)

Jesper won’t let the Darkling steal his fantasies, too. They’re—

Ouch. Fucking ouch.

Jesper really shouldn’t have added tiny spiky worms to the side of the cane, but Kaz’ indignation was just too funny.

“Let me make this clear—” Kaz rasps, once he’s regained Jesper’s full attention. Half-full. ‘Like he’s plundered Jesper’s wardrobe’ is still such a good look on him. “We are both hunted. Neither of us can afford to be caught outside on the streets of Ketterdam and let whoever saw us live. If we’re going to make Haskell’s house our temporary base of operations, we need to make his death as inconspicuous as possible. We cannot safely anticipate which of his visitors to eliminate and which to fool unless we know whether they, in turn, may be missed.”

“Well,” Jesper mutters. “Mitki might come by. If the neighbours don’t chase him off.”

Kaz raises a single, dirt-encrusted eyebrow.

“Mitki’s the newest lieutenant. Might have made it this—”

“Not Anika? I can understand why a flake like you didn’t rise in the Dregs ranks, but she—”

“Ambush. Dime Lions, five weeks after you disappeared.”

“Rotty?”

“Slit throat. Still no clue who did it.”

“Specht? Pim? Neeta? Big Bol?”

“Razorgulls, knife, last year. Bullet to the head, same day. Hellgate. Hellgate.”

“Muzzen? Ruk? Keeg?”

“Another ‘Gull stabbing, just before I left. Hellgate, again. Keeg just disappeared, though. Might still be alive somewhere over the True Sea, if he’s clever. Not that he was, he’s probably floating, poor sod.” Jesper shrugs. After a while, it just gets too much: the beginning of the Dregs’ end is seared into his brain, but there aren’t enough synapses for the tenth—or fiftieth—dead friend to hurt as much. “There’s a reason why I didn’t think twice about running when I lost those fifty thousand. Like I said, boss, it’s been a shitshow since you left. Haskell never wanted for new ones, since he got his kids fresh off the street, but he just stopped giving any shit whatsoever, and since you weren’t there to pick up the slack… well, I can see why he didn’t care, now.”

Jesper spares a bitter look for the mountain of kruge next to Haskell’s foot, the mountain he offered Kaz as soon as he saw him, long before Kaz even tried to hack off both his hands and feet with a dull meat cleaver. Long before Kaz had to settle for cutting down to the bone and then wrenching Haskell’s extremities from their sockets by sheer force of hatred, while Jesper puked into the kitchen sink. The mountain he’d never have amassed as the boss of a gang as shambolic as the last years of the Dregs.

The mountain that’s going to pay off Inej’s indenture tomorrow.

Haskell allowed her to rot there. It’s only fair he pays for her freedom with his life.

“Everyone we could use is gone. And you…” Kaz tips Jesper’s chin up with his cane. The world shimmies a little. “You, of all the old Dregs, survived.”

Jesper shrugs again. This is too much to confess to Kaz, of all cruel bastards, probably far too much, but—they’re sitting in the living room of Jesper’s former boss, the man who sold Kaz out to the Darkling and used the prize money to live in luxury, while letting his gang die on increasingly pointless ill-planned errands. The other end of the table is still flecked and puddled with slow-drying blood—not to mention the corpse, or corpse-pieces, laying there—but over here, they have a bottle of expensive whisky they found in a cabinet and they’re trading swigs from the bottle, all bitter and clean.

“I didn’t take it too well, when you and Inej just disappeared, and then my friends kept dying. Might have gone on a couple of benders. Might have lost some games. Might have lost some fights. Might have had some sexual encounters with people who turned out to be massive creeps. Consequently, I may not have been technically around to be asked to go on some of these errands, or perhaps I just didn’t notice because I was drunk.”

“Jesper.” Kaz doesn’t even sound surprised. Wow. Thanks for having faith in me, boss.

It’s not really that humiliating, though, now he’s said it out loud. He spent two years making bad decisions and occasionally braiding Inej’s hair. Kaz spent that time getting turned into a doll. Who can say what’s worse? He takes another deep gulp and grins. “You know me, boss. I need some external structure in life. I really need a commandeering asshole dragging me into his schemes to be my best self.”

“And yet, you outwitted the Darkling.”

“That wasn’t difficult, to be fair. Tell them I’m Grisha, search the Little Palace, shoot Kaz Brekker in the head, get executed…” Jesper trails off. When the silence grows teeth, he takes a pull of whisky that’s so desperate it makes him cough, but Kaz is still letting him stew.

They don’t really need to talk about it, though. No value in going over what happened in the Little Palace. No value in discussing anything. Everything is fine now. Yes, Jesper did want to kill Kaz. Yes, he’ll die for Kaz.

And they both know why.

Kaz steals the bottle. It’s incredible, actually, Jesper was just holding it—well, maybe he’s a little more drunk than he thought, but Kaz would probably like being complimented on his pickpocketing. “I didn’t even see you steal that bottle,” Jesper says.

“I’d be angry you’re drunk,” Kaz rasps. “But you’ve been completely useless at all stages of the current plan so far. And the previous one, by your planning—I always forget, in my amazement at what you accomplished, that you failed.”

He says that, but his cheeks are flushed pink with alcohol. His pupils are wide when he looks at Jesper. He raises the bottle to his lips and tips his head back, swallowing what should have easily been ten more swigs of whisky. Thieving bastard.

☼

When Jesper awakes on Haskell’s second softest chaise longue in the receiving room—neither of them was particularly eager to climb into Haskell’s bed, and, in Jesper’s case, not particularly still able to walk up the stairs either—his mouth is dry, his bladder full and the light is poking his brain even through closed curtains and eyelids. And Kaz—he searches the whole house after finishing his business, but yes, it’s true—Kaz is gone.

So are his cane and his current Barrel flash coat and the kefta, which means Kaz is probably safe. Well. As safe as the escaped Sun Summoner can be. Not kidnapped, at least. More alive than anyone stupid enough to cross Kaz’ path.

He’s taken Haskell’s kruge, and left a note.

In Kaz’ sharp hand, the note reads, “STAY.”

It’s underlined three times, and on the back side Kaz has written, “or you will die,” which to be fair is pretty ambiguous.

‘Die’ as in, ‘I mistrust your competence and assume you’ll get yourself killed if you move a finger?’ Or as in, ‘I’m warning you I won’t go out of my way to save you?’ Perhaps it’s a straightforward ‘Disobey and I am going to personally murder you and piss on your corpse?’ All are very real possibilities, knowing Kaz.

To really understand the message, Jesper needs to get into Kaz’ mood when he woke up—hungover, but how much? Enough he hates the entire world, or so much he hates Jesper more? Also, his current way of thinking. Jesper’s usefulness. A point in favour is the fact that Jesper saved him from a fate worse than death, but on the other hand, Jesper forgot to extract a deal from him and Kaz is so Kerch it hurts, which means he’s pared down solidarity and reciprocity and love into exchange, into deals, and all Jesper’s offering are the first three. They shared a bottle of whisky next to the corpse of their old boss, though, and in general Kaz looked like he was having fun more than once on their dirty, miserable long trek out of Ravka. Way more fun than he had in the majestic Little Palace. Also, Jesper’s incredibly likeable. He’s beautiful and funny and stupidly in love with Kaz without asking anything in return, so really it only makes sense that Kaz has finally succumbed to his charm.

(He dug his hand into Jesper’s hair, that night on the fallen tree and twice afterwards, but—maybe that was only to make Jesper squirm.)

Well, he enjoyed Jesper’s company while they fled from Ravka to Ketterdam, at least. That’s the crux of it.

So why would Kaz anticipate that Jesper might want to run anywhere? There’s a well-stocked kitchen here. A far more sensible assumption would be that Jesper might want to make some waffles or go on a morning jog. No, not that one. Enjoy a lavish breakfast. Have a bath, perhaps, after spending two weeks crawling through the Ravkan forest and the Shu countryside and stowed in the belly of a wine cargo ship and then countryside again, this time Kerch. Jesper’s feet hurt just thinking about it, and that Kaz managed to get here, even at the half-speed they settled on, speaks to—well, the same bull-headed masochism as always, but the fact he still refused to even consider stealing a cart or horse or approach any larger settlement before Ketterdam means he must be even more terrified of the Darkling than Jesper can imagine. He refused to leave any trace whatsoever. (And yet he’s back in Ketterdam, the one city in the world he was connected to before the Little Palace, because…?)

Ketterdam is the only city, village, collection of buildings and people they’ve been to for weeks, which means it’s the first chance Jesper has to gamble, but—even he knows not to stake anything on the possibility there’s someone left in the Barrel who doesn’t know about Jesper Fahey, he who owes Pekka Rollins fifty thousand kruge and just skipped town, kill immediately with extreme prejudice.

Well, Rollins is dead now—the only gang boss courageous or aggrieved or hungry enough to try and covertly resist the Darkling, go figure—but whoever’s head Lion now probably won’t even let Jesper try to spin an argument about how he really owes that money to ‘Pekka Rollins’ Dime Lions’, not any successor organizations. No such luck, and anyway, people stupid enough to bounce on their debts are fair game to any gang in the Barrel. They don’t cooperate on much, not even for mutual benefit, but murdering dishonest gamblers? That’s a team sport.

Jesper’s last recklessly suicidal plan worked out fantastic, so maybe he should find a card table. His luck’s turned. He could win millions.

Which Kaz definitely would anticipate, and warn him away from. Kaz is a buzzkill. Just because Jesper’s going to get murdered on sight in the Barrel…

Because Jesper’s gonna get murdered on sight in the Barrel.

If Kaz wants to rebuild his status in the Barrel, there’s no bigger liability than Jesper. And Kaz wants to, surely. He worked his way up inside the Dregs carefully and diligently, spent more time than anyone sane would inside a tiny attic office adding up numbers, and sucked up to an utter piece of shit like Haskell, just so he could one day become a Barrel boss. And now, to rise again, he has to cut off the dead weight.

Which means Jesper.

That’s why he left.

It’s not even a betrayal. They don’t have an agreement for life after reaching Ketterdam, let alone one that says Jesper can follow him forever and ever just like in the good old days. Inej—but Inej’s actually useful to a new Barrel boss, as soon as her indenture’s paid. Jesper’s the weak link here. Jesper’s screwed.

Which doesn’t mean he won’t go down fighting. He knows the way to the Menagerie—the quickest way, the scenic route, the paths least commonly trafficked by Pigeons and the ones usually avoided by staadwatch or gangsters. He knows Kaz well enough to guess which one he’s taken. If he hasn’t woken too late—and by the sun’s position, it’s still early in the morning—then he has a chance to pass Kaz off and… insult him? Beg? Cry? Sell his father’s soul for a position in the new Dregs? Maybe he’ll just have to wear a Komedie Brute mask for the rest of his life and it’ll be fine. He’ll figure it out later.

Jesper draws his shoulders up to his ears while he scurries through empty alleyways, the collar of his fancy pseudo-Barrel flash coat turned up. He’s almost glad that Kaz made him go hatless and shaved bald—thoroughly unstylish and un-Jesper enough he might survive the morning—but there are drawbacks to the disguise in the damp chill.

Also, the disguise isn’t good enough. After some minutes, Jesper notices that some clusters of metal stay at roughly the same distance to him. Eight clusters of—round, small, definitely mostly kruge with a few Ravkan coins thrown in. Thirteen guns. A rifle. Two of the coin clusters are fairly close together and move in unison. Jesper’s dealing with seven shadows, then.

That’s—a lot.

Jesper’s had a little more training being a Durast now, but what he could really use now is combat training. He hasn’t even been in a battle in over a month, unless you count handing Kaz knives while he carves up Per Haskell, and since Jesper had to puke right after, you probably shouldn’t. He’s fought rabbits. Jesper’s sure fought some rabbits in Ravka. Two deer, too.

He could probably escape his pursuers. It would take time, though, time Jesper doesn’t have when Kaz is leaving him behind without a word. He’ll just have to kill them quickly.

At least there’s one of his favourite surveillance detection routes nearby. One of the rare aboveground tunnels in Ketterdam, not used by Pigeons for obvious reasons of creepiness and also because it just leads to a big courtyard behind a factory: a courtyard that’s easy to escape, when you know the gate’s lock is broken. Kaz showed it to him, just weeks after Jesper got recruited, after the second time the ‘Gulls got the drop on him and beat him to a pulp. In the courtyard, he made Jesper shoot some sparrows and some pigeons to prove his worth. Not crows, though, and for a year Jesper believed that detail was just thrown in to test whether Jesper would obey nonsensical orders. It’s still a plausible explanation.

He’ll just have to ask Kaz, after he begs him for a role in the new Dregs. After he kills these seven pursuers.

If.

He catches the first man off-guard and blows his head off when he exits the tunnel, but after that, it’s a stand-off. Jesper, hiding behind a massive wood barrel for cover, against six men ducked into the mouth of the tunnel.

Jesper manages to pick off another man by firing into the tunnel and blindly redirecting the bullet into the first nook, but the second attempt at using that trick doesn’t hit anything, and neither does the third. He has eight bullets left now, and five enemies. Even Jesper can tell that’s bad odds.

Retreating across the courtyard, though—the first few meters are fine, there are enough wine barrels and he can just dash from one to another, slightly nudging bullets off their course so none hit him.

Those guys have far too many bullets left, though, by the time Jesper’s forty meters away from the gate. Forty meters without cover. His pursuers aren’t bad shots either—likely Dime Lions, because there’s no way a Liddy would ever get so close that Jesper has to redirect their bullet—and they’re cautious enough that only two of them are crouched behind that barrel next to the tunnel, now, while the rest are still hidden inside.

This might get a little tough—but if Jesper starts manipulating bullets more obviously, will that information travel to the Little Palace? They know the Sun Summoner escaped with a Fabrikator. Is he painting a target on Kaz’ back?

Is he—

Bloodcurdling screams and groans, and Jesper’s too far away to hear any thwacks but his senses have expanded and he knows that metal coating intimately. Knows that cane.

Kaz emerges from the tunnel opening, Inej behind him, and—

Boom.

The Dime Lion’s shot him.

Right in the chest, and Kaz stumbles, falls to his knees.

Keels over.

Jesper shoots wildly while he runs over, whirling the bullets around the barrel that the Dime Lions are hiding behind—two left, Kaz wouldn’t have let any of the ones in the tunnel escape—desperate to hit something or at least keep them distracted and scared long enough to get there, or for—Inej’s pulling Kaz back by his coat, and she’s still wearing a sheer Menagerie dress, she probably doesn’t have any knives to protect—nothing’s hit yet, nothing’s hit, and all Jesper’s bullets are in the air whizzing around but he’s not hitting anything and Kaz is down and Kaz—

Kaz pushes himself to his knees, and then he stands up.

He’s breathing hard, and in the ugly rose/amber/bloodstain trench there’s a hole above his heart, sooty and burnt, but he’s still alive, Kaz is alive, he’s—

“What are you?” a Dime Lion gasps. Jesper’s finally got a bead on her. He sinks three bullets into her head.

“I just killed…” The other one is less lucky, and Jesper only manages to hit his stomach before he runs out of airborne bullets. He’ll die, but it won’t be quick.

“I crawled out of the harbour before. I’ll do it again,” Kaz rasps, and before the Dime Lion manages more than “Dirty—” a wet squelch informs Jesper of his demise.

That’s all of them.

“Kaz, you—” Inej’s much quicker at Kaz’ side, but he moves away before she can touch him to check his injury. Moves quickly enough he’s probably not on death’s door. He is a good actor, though. She looks at Jesper, and he’s about to join her in begging Kaz to get some medical aid, at least, but then Kaz shrugs off the ruined trench coat.

“Those kefta aren’t entirely useless,” Kaz rasps, grinning like an amused fucking asshole who almost gave Jesper a heart attack.

And then, Inej wraps herself around Jesper.

“You’re alive! I was terrified,” she shouts against his chest, slapping his back and grabbing as if she can’t decide whether to kill Jesper or never let go. “I thought you got yourself killed! You just disappeared, no word, I thought—”

“I may have lost a game where the stake was fifty thousand kruge?”

“You—Jes—” Inej squeezes him harder. “I told you to stop. I’d rather have you, with me, than have you die trying to pay me off.”

“I almost won! But there was no chance I’d get out of it, without indenturing myself, and—it all worked out, didn’t it? You’re free! Which reminds me…” Jesper takes off his own coat—blue and green and purple wave patterns, very fancy, a bit on the small side for him—and lays it onto Inej’s shoulders. It suits her, too—it drowns her a little, sure, but the way the coat reaches down to her ankles looks regal, and anyway, Kaz is a good sewer. He’ll fix this. “Can’t have you catching a cold.”

Before she can reply—tell him again she wasn’t worth risking his life and freedom in every card game he could for two years, when she definitely is, she’s Inej, he’ll do anything for her—he runs away and searches the dead Dime Lions for a new coat for himself, all their money, the rifle, and picks up the used bullets too. Knowing Kaz, he’ll want them to leave this place soon, and Jesper can’t very well try to convince his boss he needs to keep his sharpshooter around when he has no bullets left.

Speaking of—Jesper saunters over to Kaz when he’s done. With his most careless grin, he says, “I want my goodbye kiss before you ditch me.”

“I left you a note,” Kaz rasps. “I should have remembered you can’t read.”

Which as good as counts as a promise that Kaz didn’t intend to leave him behind: that, and the adrenaline of an easy gunfight has Jesper grinning widely. This is the life he wanted. The life he yearned for during the last two miserable years. The Crows are back, baby. He asks, “What now, boss?”

“We leave. Before anyone comes to investigate those gunshots.”

“Novyi Zem?”

“No,” Kaz rasps, just as Inej says, “They’ll let us drown.”

“They what?”

“Move.” Kaz starts limping past the factory, and then doubles back one street over—in the general direction away from the sea. Jesper and Inej quickly flank him. “I went to the Fifth Harbour before I paid off Inej’s indenture. It’s near empty. Old man there said no boats go to Novyi Zem or Eames Chin right now, and no boats come back. Because nothing gets unloaded. Kerch ships can’t dock there. They all get stranded at sea.”

“People started running when Ravka cut us off from the continent,” Inej mutters. “Before the invasion. And now the Darkling’s gone, the Kerch Grisha are either running or dead.”

“Too many refugees, apparently. Something about culture and scroungers and economic migrants. Novya Zem’s closed its ports to Kerch.”

“But I’m Zemeni—”

“You’re just a person. Those borders don’t exist to help you. The harbour watch don’t exist for you, the government doesn’t exist for you—if there’s a choice between cementing their power and your life, every bureaucrat worth their salt will choose the former.”

Jesper wants to argue, but actually, he’d trust Kaz over Novyi Zem a million times. Kaz saved his life when Ketterdam and Kerch would have swallowed him whole. Novyi Zem isn’t any different. “So we’re stuck in Ketterdam, then, where I’ll get shot on sight and you’ll easily get tracked by the Darkling. I only remember one safehouse that’s still uncompromised, as of last month anyway, unless you think we should go back to Haskell’s, boss?”

“Inej,” Kaz rasps. “That shop over there. Buy us a cart. We’re going to Lij.”

“What’s in Lij, boss? Why Lij? Where is Lij, anyway?”

But Kaz doesn’t answer him. Even aboard the cart, directing their new donkey with a seemingly perfect grasp of the roads leading to a small southern Kerch town none of them have ever been to, he refuses to elaborate. He looks tense, though. Jesper reshapes his many new bullets while he walks alongside. If there’s a fight waiting for them in Lij, they’re going to win.

☼

Kaz paces the length of the room. Window, door, window, door—there’s not much space beside the marriage bed, and the air draft of his passing caresses Jesper’s shorn head.

He’s put back together now, dressed in his socks and his boots and his underpants and his trousers and his gloves, though his torso’s only covered by the open purple kefta. Despite the cane, he limps more heavily than before he trekked for weeks through the Ravkan forest. He’s not fully recovered yet, if he’ll ever be.

Jesper’s on the floor. He climbed off the bed—off Kaz, after he ruined Kaz’ stupid get proxy-raped by the proxy-Darkling again plan. He said what he said, and the silence that followed was all the answer he’ll get, and then he sat down on the floor. It’s as good a place to wait as any. Probably more hygienic than the bed, anyway. He watched Kaz dress, until he almost looked like the Barrel lieutenant they both wish he was still allowed to be, and now he’s watching Kaz Brekker Dirtyhands the Sun Summoner pace holes in the old dusty floor of an abandoned farmhouse an hour’s walk outside of the small Kerch town of Lij.

He’s not getting murdered, though. Not for what he almost did. Not for what he said. That’s as good as this was ever going to go.

“It was worse this time.” Kaz directs his rasp towards the floor. He doesn’t stop moving. “I froze. Why was it—it was you. I knew you were—you’d never—with you it should have been more tolerable. Not worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss.” Jesper still can’t decide whether he should be ashamed that he was too squeamish to go through with it. Kaz doesn’t seem as angry as he could be, that Jesper totally fucked up this whatever-it-was-supposed-to-be. Not the mocking disappointment he doles out at Jesper’s predictable failures—gambling, distractibility, lateness, no impulse control and so on—and not the seething hatred when Jesper does something he hasn’t anticipated.

“I turned it over and over in my mind. For a year. What I did wrong. How I could have turned this to my advantage. How to excise this weakness. I thought I’d found—but there’s nothing.”

Jesper would offer to brutally desecrate the Darkling’s corpse again, but it clearly doesn’t help. Kaz won’t let this go. Never mind that he was a teenage thief imprisoned in a palace. Never mind it was him against the whole entourage of the most powerful Grisha. The man who crowned himself Emperor.

Sometimes you’re just fucked. And there’s nothing you can do. Life isn’t fair.

“There is a way to beat him,” Kaz hisses. “And I will find it.”

“You did. Sort of.”

“What—”

Jesper grins a shark-grin. “You’re not in Ravka now, are you?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t it? No, boss, listen—he didn’t beat you alone, either, right? He had his Tailor making you into a doll. His Fabrikators locking your cage. His soldiers. Hell, Haskell selling you out—so really, it’s your victory that I found you.” Now that Jesper’s trying to explain his gut reaction, it just seems more and more logical. “Why can’t you have your own gang? You practically rescued yourself. You took a look at a boy who’d have gotten shot in a few weeks because he couldn’t pay is debts and he couldn’t stop fucking gambling—you had me dragged up to your office. You took that chance. You saved my life so I could save yours. That’s… planning ahead. Planning years ahead. Well done.”

Kaz finally, finally stops pacing. He sinks into the mattress just slightly to the right of Jesper, so he can sprawl out his legs without making contact. He looks at Jesper, but he’s silent, and his face isn’t giving anything away.

At first, that makes it feel like he’s actually listening. Actually considering what Jesper told him, and agreeing. Kaz is a quick thinker, though. He doesn’t need this long to realize that Jesper’s correct, which means he’s coming up with counterarguments—arguments why actually, he’s still weak or whatever and needs to force himself—and Jesper really, really can’t watch him do this to himself again. Why this, anyway? Why is this the weakness he fixated on?

“Why is that creep so obsessed with making you touch people, anyway?”

“Because it’s easy. Necessary. Even a child does it. Touch is what makes us human, and the Sun Summoner is human, whatever lies he tells himself,” Kaz recites. His eyes are bright. Wet.

“Bullshit. You terrorized the Barrel for years and it didn’t matter at all that you never touched anyone. It was just you. It didn’t even really sink in for me, that you don’t touch people, until I saw the way he dressed you up, how miserable you were.” That’s probably a good place to leave it, but Jesper’s livid. Jesper could mince and mangle fifty Darklings with the pure force of his loathing, and there’s not even a single one around here. That energy has to go somewhere. “You’re trying to tell me the Ravkan fucking palace couldn’t change protocol a little and adapt? If it never mattered in the Barrel, it never mattered at all. He just picked something. If you’d been allergic to shellfish, that’s the only food he would have served you, and he would have said you’re weak for your windpipe swelling up. He wasn’t able control you because touch made you weak. When you’re in control, it doesn’t matter. Because you fucking kill whoever touches you. You don’t bow to them. They bow to you.”

Kaz doesn’t reply. He doesn’t look away from Jesper, though. He just stares down at him, with his eyes still wide and still wet. He mutters, “You’ve turned quite opinionated in my absence, Jesper.”

“In your presence. I’m quoting your words back to you—sort of, it was about the cane, and I’ve forgotten half of it. But you were right. You were always right.” Jesper laughs. “See? Now you’re teaching yourself through time and space! Your masterplan is incredibly fucking elaborate!”

“My—I’m not falling for it.” Kaz is grinning, though. “If I agree now—by this time tomorrow you’ll have done something incredibly stupid and you’ll throw the whole Everything I do is your triumph because you saved me thing in my face. I’m not responsible for your awful jokes!”

Pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, Jesper wails, “My plan! My ingenious plan! Foiled by the dastardly Dirtyhands, oh no!”

Kaz laughs at him. Kaz laughs, and laughs, and Jesper joins him.

It takes a while before Kaz stops, gasping for breath. No-one in Ravka’s ever told a good joke, Jesper decides, because he’s made way funnier jokes before that Kaz didn’t even chuckle at, but gift horses and mouths and so on. Colour’s returned to Kaz’ face: his cheeks are blotchy and red, even after his breathing’s evened out. Kaz mumbles, “You know, that’s exactly how I imagined it.”

What? Oh. Jesper’s sprawled on the floor, leaning back on his elbows, his shirt pulled out of his trousers—his trousers, which are open, and he still hasn’t tucked away his dick. He forgot. There were more far important things to do, and now… well, he probably looks more debauched than Kaz in his purple kefta, with just his prick exposed to the chilly night-time Kerch air while he lounges on the ground. He ghosts a finger over it.

“Do you want me to—do you want to watch, boss?”

“I’d—” Kaz swallows. “Saints.”

Jesper turns a little, so Kaz can get a better view. He doesn’t undress, in case that’s an integral part of the fantasy, just gently trails his fingers down his still-limp dick—though it’s definitely waking up now—and looks up at Kaz.

Kaz doesn’t meet his eyes anymore, but that’s fine: more than fine, when he’s alternately looking at Jesper’s cock and at Jesper’s lips. Jesper darts out his tongue, and Kaz’ pupils blow even wider. Jesper licks down his palm and starts jerking off in earnest. “Hey, boss,” Jesper mutters, and when the head jerks up Jesper blows him a tiny kiss.

“What do you think about?” Kaz rasps.

“I just look at you. That’s enough. I like your face.” The tiny quirk of his lips, the way his eyes dart back down. “What are you thinking about, boss?”

“I didn’t expect you to enjoy this as much.”

“Seriously, boss, I know you’re not that stupid. How many times—”

“Not me,” Kaz mumbles. He gestures obscurely at the room. Jesper. The wall. The floor. The floor again. “This. It’s—not proper. Demeaning.”

“I wasn’t feeling demeaned until you started talking—”

“I was going to make you my right hand, once I took over the Dregs. Not my whore—”

“You were?” slips out, small and breathless, before Jesper remembers that this is for Kaz. This for him to enjoy. The warmth expanding in Jesper’s ribcage can wait. “There’s nothing bad about this. You like it. I like it. I don’t see anyone else in this room, and even if—a very clever guy once told me that you don’t bow to the world. You make the world bow to you.”

☼

It’s scratching that wakes Jesper. Scratching like the sharpening of a knife, quick, impatient, desperate—but it’s Kaz who’s on watch right now, Kaz who found this shallow cave they’re spending the night in, and Kaz wouldn’t let any danger come this close unnoticed. Unfought. Kaz wouldn’t just leave Jesper to his fate—would he?

He wouldn’t. At least not yet.

Kaz is sitting at the mouth of the cave. The moon drenches his matted dirty hair in its white glory, his handmade trousers, his naked wiry chest. His chest which he hasn’t bared for a second since Jesper gave him the kefta, even pulling off the Sun Summoner chemise that they tore into threads while still wrapped up in both of his coats: but now he’s half-naked, head bending down to look at those tines sticking out of his clavicle. Those antlers, those keratinized tumours, those bone cancers. Whatever those mutations are, he wants them gone.

In the right hand, he’s holding the knife that Jesper made from buttons so they could cut the blanket into trouser-shapes. In the left hand, he’s holding one of the protrusions growing from his body.

And then, he starts hacking again.

Viciously, helplessly, like a sick rabbit mutated into its own trap. He misses, once, and the knife sinks into his collarbone: but silently he tears it out again and cuts at the cancerous bone, and the knife’s sharp but the only dents that Jesper can see are tiny, glowing, lighting up the knife that’s flecked with his own blood.

☼

Jesper stirs the potato chunks. Thankfully, the old hearth still works, at least after he and Inej fed it with firewood they brought from the market, and so he’s cooking potatoes in butter and water. He mashes them up with some heavy wooden implement he found in a cabinet, once they’re soft enough—he washed it of course; he doesn’t want to eat moth shit—and then Inej passes him a wooden board of carrots in neat small identical pieces. Show-off. Jesper loves her so fucking much.

“Careful, don’t let it burn,” she says, twirling her knife, and Jesper—well, he meant to stir the pot of what’s apparently becoming stamppot. He did. He didn’t mean to think of how he’ll get Inej and Kaz out of Ravka—

And that’s when Kaz limps into the kitchen. He wasn’t still asleep when Inej and Jesper went into town to get some food—as if the Bastard of the Barrel ever sleeps in, even when he’s far from his titular Barrel—but he begged off the trip. He told them to say they’re working for Johannus Rietveld, if they’re asked, who’s apparently inherited this farm, but—they weren’t asked a thing, anyway, and who knows what Kaz did in the meantime. Who knows what weird cover identity he’s cooked up that they haven’t yet had to invoke. And whether it’s weirder than the one Jesper just created.

Jesper gives him a tender little smile. “Had a good morning?”

“No.”

“Because of last—”

But Kaz can read Jesper at least as well as he can read himself. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he rasps. “You’re the least terrifying person I’ve ever met.” Which probably means Yes, I’m rattled, but I won’t take it out on you. Too much.

“Thanks, darling.” And obeying Inej’s sharp elbow, he goes back to stirring the potato mash, and the slices of rookworst smoked sausage she’s dumped into another pan as well. “We decided Inej needs a proper homecooked meal, now she’s free, and we both haven’t eaten anything worth eating for ages, either.”

“You cook?”

“I grew up with my Da. It was either him or me. We traded off, if you want to know, and I’m pretty good apart from when it mysteriously turns into charcoal. And we didn’t find any Zemeni spices in the Lij market—this isn’t Ketterdam, and this old trader I talked to, she said it’s because maritime traffic to Novyi Zem is down to trickles at this point there’s a real dearth of spices, she couldn’t get them at any reasonable price—”

“Don’t burn the stamppot,” Inej orders.

“Anyway, we found a recipe tacked to the wall behind the oven, so that’s what I’m making now. Something super Kerch. Stamppot—you’ve ever eaten it?”

Kaz makes a sound that’s deeply indecipherable. Jesper can’t even tell whether it’s mournful or happy.

“Anyway, we’re almost done. Spinach now, please—Inej made me stick to the recipe, you know—and then the fried sausage and some salt and… you’ll stay with us for lunch, right, even if it isn’t royal Little Palace fare?”

“We ate unseasoned burnt rabbits in the forest,” Kaz replies curtly. He’s gotten over whatever strange emotion took hold of him, then.

“Yeowtch, they were awful. Why didn’t you remind me to take them off the fire. I know how to smuggle us into Novyi Zem,” Jesper says, carrying the deep pot over to their chosen clean bit of floor. Next to the windowsill, so Kaz can sit down with a little less discomfort—the house has been cleaned out apart from the marriage bed, really, and making Kaz go in there now… Making Inej go in there now, when it’s where last night he and Kaz had sex… And it’s not like they were loud, but who knows what Inej read into them pacing around each other for an hour. This is much less awkward. Besides, Jesper’s recently had some great experiences with floors.

Inej doesn’t stop playing with her knife, even after she balances her stamppot served on woodboard on her knees and digs in with her slightly bent spoon. She hasn’t set it down all morning, even carried it into town when they went looking for something to eat, and while she’s been supervising Jesper’s cooking—making sure he’s reading the recipe, keeping him on-track, bickering with him over unclear or illegible instructions—she’s been twirling it around her fingers. A truly remarkable feat, given that it’s the piece of shit knife that Jesper cobbled together from coat buttons, and he didn’t know what he was doing at all except that it should probably be sharp. Inej really needs to talk him through the finer points of balance if she wants him to overhaul the thing.

“They’re not letting in any more refugees from Kerch, you said,” Jesper starts setting up the explanation for his ingenious plan, while he passes over Kaz’ portion and another spoon he dug out from the bottom of a cabinet and small-scienced back into shape.

“The rich Kerch started running first, when the Darkling advanced. Anyone who’d ever had a Grisha indenture… They probably got in. They had the money. As for the rest… well, we’ve all heard of what happened in Fjerda, unless we’re Jesper and too busy drinking and playing Makker’s Wheel—”

“Hey! I was trying to pay off your indenture,” Jesper complains, while nibbling on his surprisingly decent if underspiced potato mash. “I’m Zemeni. They’ll let me in.”

Kaz still hasn’t touched his food. He hasn’t put it away either though, hand cradling the board instead of throwing it at Jesper. Maybe it’s because he’s too curious about the plan. Jesper should have waited, but he was too excited, and now Kaz is frowning as he replies, “So you keep saying. How does that help us? I assume you wouldn’t leave the two of us behind, after all that trouble you took.”

It feels good, to hear him say that. Almost good enough to forgive that Kaz doesn’t like his lunch. “That’s where my plan comes in. I’ve finally figured it out. If we’re married—”

“We can’t marry each other,” Kaz rasps. Before Jesper gets too sad about that, he continues, “In case you haven’t yet learned to count, we’re three people now.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve been thinking it over for so long. But divorce exists, you know so I was thinking that our story should be—and I’ll write to Da, but I thought you should probably agree first—I married one of you and then fell in love with the other but I still loved both, so I was trying to—”

Inej coughs. Laughs. Yeah, she’s definitely laughing at him, and then she says, “You’re going to tell your father about your marriage in a letter—your multiple marriages, because not only did you get married without inviting him, you already traded in your wife for a younger, prettier model. You lothario!”

“If you think that Kaz—actually, are you younger than Inej?”

Kaz, spoon in mouth, glares down at him.

“I’m trying to save our lives here. I’d appreciate some cooperation! And Da will forgive me, when he sees how happy I am with my new bonebreaking gangster wife and my old knife-twirling gangster wife who I had to divorce for petty bureaucratic reasons. Do you like it?”

Another spoonful of stamppot disappears into Kaz’ mouth. His eyes are closed while he chews, and then he looks away. His voice is hoarser than normal when he mumbles, “It tastes exactly the way I—it’s good.”

“Better than unseasoned rabbit charcoal. Anyway, it might throw the Darkling off our scent some more, if we disguise Kaz as a woman—and don’t be sexist. Women come in all shapes and sizes, no-one’s going to suspect a thing. Also we’re from Ketterdam. If any woman like Kaz can marry anywhere, it’s here. It’ll be a scandal, if they refuse to honour our marriage. Letting a few poors drown outside Zemeni borders, sure, but breaking the mutual recognition of administrative documents?”

Jesper is actually pretty proud of his reasoning here. That makes it even more annoying when Kaz rasps, “No-one will ever believe I’m your wife. I can’t even touch you.”

“No-one’s going to believe I love you? Are you sure?” Jesper flutters his eyes up at Kaz.

“He has a point, Jesper. You won’t be the first desperate refugee forging a marriage to leave.” Inej twirls her knife again. “You’ll need to act the part.”

“We’ll just tell them the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t want to be touched, and if they have a follow-up question, they’d better direct it to the barrel of my gun. I’m not letting anybody non-consensually grope my beloved Kerch wife. Never again. Not over my dead body.”

“Won’t they think it’s weird if Kaz—sorry, your beautiful Kerch wife doesn’t let you touch him?”

“I don’t care. I told you. Let the world bow to us. I love my ingenious, vicious Kerch wife, completely independent of any physical contact we may or may not ever have. I respect my stubborn loyal deadpan Kerch wife far too much to cross those boundaries just for social custom. Also, my sweet murderous Kerch wife has a mean right hook.”

“Thankyou for the demonstration of your acting skills,” Kaz rasps drily, scratching his spoon on his serving board for the last flecks of stamppot. “We’re not going to Novyi Zem, though. There are more amplifiers than just the Stag he forced into me, and we’re going to find the rest. I’m going to tear apart every miserable molecule in the Darkling’s body, cell by fucking cell.”

“And you just let me keep talking?”

“It was entertaining.” Kaz licks his spoon, and then the board. Any second now, Jesper will tell him there’s more left in the pot. “Write your Da. We’ll keep your plan as a backup, in case everything goes horribly wrong. You’ll need a ring, though, to make it official,” and Kaz starts rooting through the kefta pockets.

Jesper can’t breathe. Is Kaz really…? He can’t breathe until he looks at Kaz’ stretched-out, gloved hand, and—

“How the fuck did you steal that one?! I was just wearing it!”

#jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x jesper #dimtraces makes things #shadow & bone #shadow and bone

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 2

First

Listen, Carapace was totally aware that he should be a little more concerned about what was going on. He just didn’t care.

After all, he had heard many horrifying things about college life. He liked Ramen but not enough to eat it for every meal and he wasn’t fond of the idea of explaining to his roommates why exactly he had to disappear every time there was an akuma instead of seeking shelter with them (and his scholarship wasn’t enough for him to afford an apartment to himself)...

So, yeah, having housing and food paid for for as long as Hawkmoth was around -- which, from the looks of it, was going to be until the man died of old age -- was sounding pretty good.

Sure, he’d have to deal with all the other heroes, but they couldn’t all be that bad. Rena and Chat seemed nice enough. Ladybug was nice, too, though she was more uptight than most people he hung out with. And maybe Chloe had grown a bit as a person since they’d gone to school together…

“You will all be maintaining your secret identities,” said Master Fu, pulling Carapace from his thoughts. “It lowers the chances of you slipping up and calling each other your civilian names in the field.”

Chloe’s nose scrunched a little bit. “So we’re going to be in costume the entire time?”

“No. I’ve created masks infused with the same magic that keeps people from figuring out your identities when you’re in costume.” He saw the look on Ladybug’s face and sighed. “You have two masks each, so you can wash them.”

Ladybug relaxed.

“Great, that settles that…” Master Fu pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a few times. “Next up: what platform will you be using?”

“TikTok, obviously,” said Chloe in a tone that said ‘don’t fight me on this, you won’t win’.

Carapace fought the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed it had been too much to hope that she would be a better person.

Still, he rather liked the idea of TikTok. He was going to film school, after all, it would be fun to use all the different techniques he learned in his classes to enhance his videos. He supposed there was also YouTube or Instagram, but YouTube meant longer content and Instagram meant more regular posts. No, TikTok was probably the way to go.

When no one objected, Master Fu tapped his phone again. Carapace guessed he had some kind of checklist there.

“... right. You’ll need to create accounts now, please.”

Everyone seemed a bit surprised that he wanted it done so soon, but they all pulled out their phones.

They quickly figured out why he wanted them to do it in front of him, though.

Making an account was harder than they thought it was going to be.

They wanted it to make sense for them, but it turns out waiting multiple years to start an account leads to the most relevant names being taken. Who knew?

Ladybug, after many combinations, managed to get @TheRealLadybug. Fair enough, there probably weren’t many english-speakers pretending to be a Parisian hero.

Chloe got frustrated quickly and ended up finding the person who had stolen @QueenBee and had ‘politely suggested’ that they hand over the account name (and by that I mean she threatened them with legal action).

Chat was next. He looked at his phone, lost in thought, and then shrugged. “How much money do you think I should give for the name?”

What the fuck? How much money did he have? They all knew that Chloe was rich but, with a quick glance at Ladybug and Rena’s faces, he found that no one else had been aware that the cat had been rich, too.

“I’d say 15 thousand, at least,” said Chloe.

Chat nodded slowly. “I’ll do 20 just in case.”

What the fuck?!

But they brushed past this quickly (there was just too much for them to unpack there) and everyone looked at Carapace as Chat started talking to whoever it was about the @ChatNoir name.

Carapace thought for a few minutes. He didn’t want to copy Ladybug’s idea and he didn’t exactly have the resources to threaten or buy the name from anyone, so… He shrugged and started testing out stupid puns. After a minute he managed to secure the name @Capotpace. It was absolutely terrible. He loved it.

Finally, Rena was up. She didn’t even hesitate to show them that she had already come up with something: @RenaRogue.

“... I think you misspelled your name,” said Carapace after a few minutes.

Rena frowned and looked at it, then shook her head. “No, it’s just a reference. In America they call their villains Rogues.”

“You’re American?” Said Ladybug.

“Nope!”

How do you even respond to that? Easy: you don’t. Moving on…

Once Chat had managed to get his account set up, everyone followed each other.

Now what?

Master Fu sighed. “Now that that’s done, I’d like to discuss room placement.”

For those of you who don’t know: moving SUCKS.

The whole process is just the absolute worst. You have to choose what you care enough about to keep (and, apparently, “all of it” is not a viable answer), cram it all into boxes, and then get those boxes from one house to the next.

The torture isn’t over, then, though. Then you spend the next few days sleeping on a bare mattress, using some clothes you’d unpacked as makeshift blankets and pillows because you couldn’t remember which box you’d put your sheets in.

And he was doing all of this alone. Master Fu had insisted that they all refrain from bringing their friends and family because of the whole ‘secret identities’ thing.

He dropped onto the couch and glared at the millions of people that Chloe had hired to help her over the rim of his waterbottle. Maybe he should just tell the public his secret identity…

No. That was a bad idea. Unlike Chloe, his family couldn’t afford security guards needed to keep them safe in case Hawkmoth decided that it would be super cool and fun to kidnap a family member for ransom.

He felt someone take a seat next to him on the couch and looked over at Ladybug. She had opted to not be in costume, and it was almost weird to see her in normal clothes. A t-shirt and jeans? That wasn’t allowed. She was only able to wear black and red dresses, he was pretty sure that was a law or something.

He gave her a tired smile. “Salu -- sorry, bonjour.”

She blinked at him a few times. And, oh, she had blue eyes. Wild.

“Might as well say salut, we’re ‘friends’ now,” she said.

She held out a hand to him and he stared at it. After a second’s confusion he shook her hand.

She blinked again. “I… was asking for some water…”

He fought his rapidly growing embarrassment as he handed her the water bottle. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

She smiled a little. The kind of smile you give scared civilians when you tell them it’s all going to be okay. It felt weird to have it turned on him. This whole conversation was just… weird.

“It’s fine, I am, too.”

She took a few sips of his water and then handed it back to him. He put the cap back on it and sunk into the couch.

They watched the last of Chloe’s helpers leave and he was somewhat glad to see that she seemed just as ticked off by them as he was.

He hesitated. “Want to help each other unpack?”

She blinked for a third time. Maybe that was why she covered her eyes when she fought, she didn’t want people to know when she was confused or shocked.

And then she gave him a smile, a real one this time. For a half second she looked like just a regular teen enjoying time with a friend --.

“I finished yesterday, actually, but I can help you if you want.”

Nope. Still Ladybug. Of course she was already done.

Still…

“Help would be nice, I guess.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c

#a miraculous tiktok account #nino lahiffe #carapace #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #chat noir #adrien agreste #rena rouge #alya cesaire #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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cosmicpines · 4 years ago

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OTGW Dream-Unknown Comic Lore

Hey! Thought I’d make a post about the “ongoing” (now finished) post-series OTGW comic and the implications it has to the lore of the show, since I’m not sure everyone has read them.

Big Note: these comics are only dubiously canon! None were written by Pat McHale.

Other Big Note: I think assigning hard “mechanics” to how the Unknown works defeats the purpose. It is mean to be loose, fairytale like, shepherded by emotion. Putting a stamp on “this is how they get in and out” and “this is exactly what happened” doesn’t make sense -- part of the point is we, Greg, and Wirt don’t know exactly what the Unknown is.

That being said, i still think it’s fun to look at the facts presented in the comics and see if we can figure out a bit of what’s going on. This post is long because this is who I am as a person, apparently.

TLDR: Wirt and Greg can be brought to the Unknown during their dreams, potentially for multiple days in one night. They are there until they both realize they are dreaming and they solve the problem they were brought there for.

Right off the bat, in issue 1, we find out that Greg can go to the Unknown in his dreams -- in this case, because Jason told him that there was a “new case” for them to solve.

He briefly wakes up and goes back to sleep (probably because they wanted to show Wirt in issue 1.)

Greg doesn’t seem surprised to find himself in the Unknown; quite the opposite: Jason is telling him about a “new” case, implying that this has happened before, possibly multiple times. We have no idea how long after the series this takes place, only that it’s either fall or winter, judging from their pajamas.

Greg doesn’t offer us any other insight to what’s going on, but, eventually, Wirt shows up in issue 4. He asks Greg what he’s, and later they, are doing here, implying he did not choose to come and they don’t always come here at the same time.

Wirt is particularly interesting that he seems to think they may not be able to leave again, as he brings up on 2 occasions.

However, this may just be because he doesn’t know he’s dreaming.

(Yes, that’s Sara. More on her later.)

A detail that I think is important from the show here -- then, Wirt also couldn’t remember entering the Unknown, since he seemed to think he and Greg were lost and not, you know, drowning in a river. I think it’s very possible that when you enter the Unknown, you forget how you got there. Remembering that is key to being able to escape.

Sara tells Wirt he’s dreaming, and from that point on, he no longer waxes about being trapped: he instead tells Greg he wants to go home, as seen in issue 12.

When Greg and Wirt split up to solve the last mysteries:

This implies that they don’t have to go home together and, at this point, they are more or less capable of going home whenever.

Issue 16 brings them both home, Greg after revealing Hero Frog’s intentions and getting Jason elected mayor:

And Wirt after he and Sara defeat the Shapeshifter.

(poor wirt lmao)

I think these puzzle pieces can lead to a conclusion: They can only go home from the Dream Unknown once they are both aware that they are dreaming and they solve whatever problem they were brought here for. Once they do, they can go back whenever they want.

After waking up, Greg immediately checks on his brother.

Solidifying that they remember what happened, and, implying at least, that they don’t always get home at the same time. I can see scenarios where one sits in the other’s room, waiting for them to wake up...

We ultimately don’t know how often this happens, what triggers it, and how aware they are of the whole thing. Judging from their reactions to being there and going home, I feel like this sort of thing happens often enough, but not so often that it’s exhausting and/or terrifying... once a month, maybe?

If that rate increases, though... well, that’s just some fun fanfiction fuel.

Some other observations:

1. Greg and Wirt may not experience things exactly the same in the Dream Unknown.

When Wirt first shows up, he makes this comment:

“A bunch of nightmare stuff” seems a little... extreme, for what Wirt was doing, as said ghost was a beaver in a sheet.

Issue 6 offers a potential explanation. The framing device for this issue is a tavern keeper asks them why they look so tired, and Greg and Wirt both tell the story of having to sit in a location all night to meet someone, but their stories vary wildly. For Greg, they were on a stage. For Wirt, they were in a graveyard.

Both stories have seriously different levels of Wirt’s enthusiasm,

and how creepy it is.

I won’t pretend that this is canon that they’re experiencing it differently; it’s definitely possible that one or both of them are unreliable narrators. Certain details, like Wirt singing, point more to that, but others, like Wirt getting eaten by a demon horse, is... a lot more extreme, haha.

This is also partly refuted later in the comic, as Greg and Wirt get separated but visit the same places, which are largely the same.

But still, it’s a fun idea.

2. Sara is here

Yeah, so, this can either be adorable or terrifying.

All Sara really says about her being here is that she thinks this is a lucid dream where Wirt is a person in it, which Wirt never presses her but come on Wirt please press her cause what the fuuuuuuckkkkk????? Sara ultimately doesn’t seem to know what the Unknown really is, since she only refers to it as a lucid dream.

Three explanations I can think of:

1. Her line “I’m having a lucid dream and you’re a part of it” could be meant to imply that the opposite: Wirt is the one having the dream and has dreamed up a Sara to adventure with him.This Sara is just something Wirt has created to join him in the Unknown, and the real Sara isn’t involved or aware of this at all. This isn’t the first time the Unknown has created a Sara, if you consider Distillatoria canon (which... ehhhhh...... I have Opinions about that lol)

2. Sara has been to the Unknown before. If that is the case, it either happened recently, since Wirt is surprised to see her there, or Sara has been doing this for a while and they just haven’t run into each other. Her saying it’s just a dream isn’t incorrect, and if she doesn’t think Wirt is really Wirt (that the Unknown created him), there’s no reason for her to be like “hey, we’re in a dream recreation of purgatory that apparently has a grasp on my soul for all eternity.”

3. This is the first time Sara has been to the Unknown, and Wirt unintentionally brought her along. This one has the least evidence towards it, but I think it’s interesting. Greg is able to bring his stuffed raccoon with him to the Unknown, so why can’t Wirt bring the consciousness of his crush and/or girlfriend?

Another thing to think about when considering this: Wirt and Greg are in the Unknown in their Halloween costumes. I like the idea that whatever you wore to the Unknown when you go is what you always wear when you’re there. Sara is all dressed for an adventure, with a cute green cape, a huge backpack, and a bee mask (specifically to trick the shapeshifter).

So I’m not sure what she might have been doing to be wearing this and then end up in the Unknown... Either she’s into LARP, she got into a hiking accident while wearing a sick cape, she changed clothes after arriving in the Dream Unknown, or her outfit is part of Wirt’s dream.

No idea which explanation is “correct;” I think they’re all interesting to play with!

3. Jason has relatives in the Unknown

Apparently the Hero Frog is Jason’s dad???

Which is... fascinating, considering they found Jason before going into the Unknown.

I think I read ages ago a theory that Jason is originally from the Unknown and got out somehow, as he is a lot more intelligent than a real frog should be. Who knows, though.

It’s probably also of note that Jason is the one who instigates them entering the Unknown, “telling” Greg there’s a mystery to solve.

4. Multiple days pass by in the dream

This is “fun...”

Day 1: Issue 1 (Greg’s arrival) - Issue 4 (Wirt’s arrival, diverging story)

Day 2: Issue 6 (morning after diverging tale) - Issue 7 (Greg sneaks around bird town, Wirt encounters a ghost)

Day 3: Issue 9 (Greg goes over a mountain. There’s a very fast day-night cycle here, but I think it’s for comedic effect. Wirt arrives in bird town and meets up with Sara.) - Issue 11 (Greg joins some “highwaymen”) /12 (Wirt and Sara help a sick goose)

Day 4: Issue 12 (Greg, Wirt, and Sara meet up in frog town) - Issue 14 (Greg spies on Hero Frog, Wirt and Sara get taken by an orphanage)

Day 5: Issue 15 (Greg/Wirt/Sara make their plan, Greg goes home before nightfall in 16) - Issue 16 (Wirt and Sara defeat the shapeshifter)

This is 5 full days they spend in the dream. Some of them are a lot fewer events than would happen in a day, and it’s very likely time is moving faster in the dream, but... jeez. That’s got to screw with your mind if this happens too often. Like, imagine the worst case scenario where they go to the Unknown every night and spend 5 days there every time! I doubt this is the case, but holy shit.

5. Beatrice, the Woodsman, Lorna, and the Beast are nowhere to be seen

This is more of an observation, but there is not even a passing mention of any of these three. Either they were all checked in on their first dream adventure, or they can’t remember that first adventure while in the dream too clearly...

There’s a ton of fun theories that you can make out of the Dream Unknown. Is the Dream Unknown the same as the Halloween Unknown? Are the boys souls claimed by the Unknown forever? Will it keep calling them back, night after night, until they go back permanently? How does this effect their healing from their trauma? Are these dreams going to increase or decrease in frequency? Do they always last exactly one night? Can Wirt fall asleep in class, spend a week in the Unknown, and wake up before the end of the period? Can Greg go to bed for the night and not wake up all day, but only have been in the Unknown for a few minutes? Does time pass in the Unknown without them there? In the Dream Unknown, will they always be the age that they originally were when they entered the Unknown? Does anyone else in the Unknown do this? (at some point, I want to do a theory post about who is from the Unknown and who is from the “real” world...)

Anyway... this post completely ran away with me. Hope you enjoyed! Send me your theories; I’m itching to hear them!

#over the garden wall #otgw #jeez this ended up really long #there was just a lot to talk about haha #mary blabs

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Note

KICKS DOOR DOWN 12 and 27, Kaito and Shinichi

you got it bud (strictly platonic)

Roommate AU & Sick/Injured

When one is roommates with an international thief, one often finds one patience tried. His fateful mistake had been casually mentioning to his mother that he and Kuroba would be attending the same University. Shinichi doesn’t want to know what strings she pulled to get them assigned as roommates but it’s been one headache after another. His mom sleeps well knowing her master’s son is being watched over even as he has to deal with screeching doves, smoke bombs going off at inopportune times and so many pranks.

Shinichi tells himself that he’s not a child anymore, that it’s not socially acceptable to kick the stupid thief in the shins.

There was a thump coming from Kuroba’s bedroom, Shinichi glanced with irritation at the clock. 2:17 am, sure Shinichi was still up doing case work but that didn’t mean he wasn’t bothered by his roommate’s antics. Bad enough he still kept up his Kid activities, even if he refused to admit to them. Feeling tired, undercaffeinated and cranky, Shinichi decided to confront him.

“Kuroba,” He said, knocking sharply on the door, “it’s 2am, some of us have things to do.”

“Sorry,” pause, “Kudo.”

“You okay?” He frowned, uneasy.

Another lengthy pause that stretched out interrupted by some heavy breathing. “I’m fine, go back to what you were doing.” Shinichi has lied enough to know when someone isn’t being truthful, been in enough deadly situation to read the heaviness in the air and seen enough dead bodies to know the smell of blood. He tried the door and when he found it locked, he kicked it open.

It’s one thing to know Kuroba was Kid, it was another thing to find Kuroba half out of Kid’s signature white suit as he tried to shakily take off what looked like a bullet proof vest. There was blood smeared on his arms, chest and face.

“Shit,” he heard the thief curse under his breath before Kid’s smile pasted onto his face like a sticker that applied hastily, off center and peeling. “Evening Meitantei, just thought this would be a nice place to rest my weary wing-”

“Shut up you idiot, where are you bleeding?” Shinichi asked, crouching down to Kuroba’s level. Kuroba didn’t answer, just continued to methodically doff his costume. “Who did this to you?”

“As you so astutely pointed out, it is an ungodly hour of the morning,” Kid answered, his voice startlingly even considering how pale and drawn his face was. It must be taking all his energy to sit up right. Still, he looked up at Shinichi with unwavering resolve in his eyes. “Go back to your room, Kudo. This is none of your business, I can handle this.”

“None of my- you’re bleeding out and you expect me to walk away and go to sleep!” Shinichi yelled, feeling so angry and lost he could barely think. “You think I haven’t known what you’ve been up to? That I just somehow missed your illegal activities the last few months? Well I didn’t turn you in then and I won’t now so let me help.”

“No,” Kuroba, and it was Kuroba this time not Kid’s easy act. “You don’t know what I’ve been up to and I don’t want you to. Do you think this,” he gestured angrily at his bleeding wound, “is for fun? Because I enjoy this?” The vest had come off revealing what looked like a deep cut near his neck and collarbone. Someone had put a knife to Kid’s throat while Shinichi had been munching on pocky and listening to the radio. There hadn’t even been a heist tonight. Suddenly Shinichi realized how little he knew about the boy he lived with.

“You’re going to need stiches,” Shinichi said passively as he rooted around Kuroba’s room for a first aid kit. Shinichi had his own supplies but he didn’t trust the thief not to bolt the second he was out of sight. He found it and set on cleaning the wound before beginning to stitch up the cut.

“When did you start wearing a vest?” Shinichi asked instead of the hundred other questions on his mind, questions Kuroba wouldn’t answer.

“Few years,” Kuroba muttered. Shinichi waited for further explanation but clearly Kuroba wasn’t giving anything else up. A few years, Shinichi has only been back from being Conan for a little over a year. That meant that while Shinichi had been actively chasing the thief, he’d felt threatened enough to require a bulletproof vest.

Shinichi would be more angry at his lack of notice if he wasn’t even angrier at Kuroba’s impressively infuriating ability to deflect. He’d been next door and hadn’t picked up on any of this.

“Why-”

“Just drop it okay?” Kuroba frowned before the lines of his face smoothed out, like the tide washing away footprints leaving Kid to step in. “I appreciate your assistance but it will not be required again. Congratulations, Meitantei. Your roommate is about to pull a vanishing act, leaving you the whole apartment to yourself. I’m sure Mouri-san would be happy to take up residence.”

“I don’t want the apartment,” Shinichi answered, “I want answers, I want you safe. You,” how does one put into words the complex give and take of two rivals/enemies/like-minded people who battled wits for years without ever using their real names? “You saved my life, as Conan. I couldn’t have gotten my life back without the information you gave. Let me help.”

“Kudo,” Kuroba sighed, slumping a little bit even as Shinichi hummed in irritation that it messed up his stitch. “That’s the thing. You just got your life together. Passing your GED by the skin of your teeth, reconnecting with your friends, remembering how to be an adult. I can’t jeopardize what you fought so hard for just for me.”

“Barou,” Shinichi drawled, finishing the last stitch. “Don’t you know that’s what friends are for.” Because that’s what they were, when all was said and done. They’d had too many secrets between them before to properly act on it but now at approaching 3am on a Wednesday, they were just Shinichi and Kaito.

“I’m a detective and I will never turn my back on someone in need. Just,” he sucked in a breath as he imagined one night where Kuroba didn’t stumble back into his room. Where he simply vanished without a trace. “Just let me help. I lost so much, I won’t lose the only one who can keep up with me.”

“Hattori would weep to hear you say that,” Kuroba quipped, “and that Sera girl and the creepy girl with the tea colored hair and-”

“Alright, alright,” Shinichi teased back. “I’m not the great, unstoppable Meitantei I was. I’m an idiot and a jerk but I’m learning, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t get my act together and ask for help. I think you know that too so tell me. Why are you doing this?”

His face was carefully blank, like it was a placeholder for whatever he was really feeling. And then slowly, piece by piece, the mask fell. And what Shinichi saw underneath almost made him weep. Who knew it was possible to hold that much pain underneath an easy smile.

“They,” Kuroba said with a cracking voice, a mix of grief and rage and desperation, “they killed my father. They killed him and I need to make them pay.”

“We will,” Shinichi sighed, “we will.”

#dcmk #NOT kai///shin #platonic only #awake-my-oceans #whoops i got carried away again #i work for 6 months to write for dcmk and now i write several ficlets in a day #what is this #i actually like this might put it on ao3

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pbandjesse · 3 years ago

Text

Today was great and Im only frustrated that my lip has gotten worse again. I think from the friction from my mask and the heat all day made it worse. But my whole mouth area hurts and it sucks. Honestly, I am also just very sore. We did a lot of walking in the sun today!!

I didn't sleep great last night. I had weird nightmares again and I woke up with my lip all covered in dry blood. I was pretty upset about it and it would only get worse. I tried my best to baby it but there was only so much I could do.

I got washed up and dressed though. I was super excited for costume. I would end up wearing my corset open because it was a lot warmer then I expected. But I felt so cute. I loved how I did my hair, with two twisted braids under my headband. I was very pleased. My makeup would mostly wear away half way through the day but I still felt really good about it. James put on their costume so we could see how it looked before we left, just in case something had to change. But I think they looked great. The new shirt is so good and loots great on them. They would wear a regular shirt for the drive, so I put all our accessories and their costume in a tote bag to bring with us.

I was in a really chill mood overall. Jess was texting me all upset about feeling rushed and things not working the way she was hoping but I was chill and tried to give her some of that energy.

We left here and went to Mcdonalds before we drove the hour and a half to the ren faire.

And it was a good drive! The way there we made great time, we listened to a few episodes of the story podcast we listen to on long drives. We had lots of laughs because I kept saying dumb shit and James would tease me but in the best way. It was a good ride.

Jess was worried about the parking line but we got there a little after 1030 and there was no line at all! And they pulled in minutes after us!

It took us all a few minutes to get our costumes right and get ourselves together. But Jess and her brother and sister-in-law would come over to us and then we would all go in together.

We got in really fast. And for real it was barely crowded. Like there were crowds but nothing like Ive experienced in the past. We barely had to wait for anything. When we first got there we got lemonade and played with some photo opp things. I had a great time walking around and was for sure the leader of the day.

I would just lead us to what I thought was good. James was there for whatever and Jess didn't have anything specific. We didn't know what any shows were so we only ended up going to one. Which was the mud pit show. Which I always love. We caught a little of a few other shows but we should have probably planned that better. We did get to see the mermaids which was very cool though. She even had fangs.

I loved seeing people's costumes. And we ate a lot of different things. I had a smoothie. Me and Jess shared a pickle. Jess and James each had turkey legs. I had a baked potato. We would have kettle corn and I got a little sandwich. They got coffee and James shared an apple muffin with me. It was such a food day and it was great.

We didn't buy much beyond food. I did get to do things I never got to before. I got to do the gemstone panning thing. I have always wanted to do that but it always seemed expensive but it was $15 and I got some awesome stones and really had a great time. And James got me one of those copper roses and I always wanted one of those. So it was pretty great.

We would do a lot of walking. A lot of people watching. Going in shops. Enjoying the company. We watched the glass blowing demo. We got James sized for a kilt and the men who ran that place were so excited that were getting married. They apparently also do rentals and gave us their card so we can get something for James that we know is nice. I think we even know the color.

I really had a great day. I was tired but like in a good way. We went to the dungeon and read about all the scary things people did to each other. James found someone's wallet?? So we gave that to the woman at the front. I hope it made its way back to the owner.

We did see a poor girl who was wasted wasted and an actor came to check on her because she was double over on her self, looked asleep, but then security staff and first aid came and checked on her to get her some water and find her friends. I hope she is okay.

We surprisingly didn't see to many embarrassingly drunk people, for being Octoberfest. It was fun seeing people in all kinds of costumes though and I was having a great time.

Jess was moving very slow because her feet hurt and we kept losing her. So to keep James slow I held their hand and to keep Jess with us I held her hand and we were a little train. A man at a booth laughed at us and said we needed a leash when I told him why we were doing this. But it worked!!

Jess got a precious hat. And then we bought honey products. We ran into her brother and sister in law and it was decided we wouldn't stay through the end and instead leave at 530ish.

So we got our last snacks and headed to the front to wait.

Me and Jess talked for a while while James filled our water bottle. And then we went out to sit in a gazebo and take some costume pieces off. It was just a wonderful day. I am so glad we got to go. Lookign through my posts we haven't been there together since 2014, me and James went to the Maryland one ins 2018. But it has been forever so this was just the best. And I get to see Jess again next Tuesday so it wasn't even that sad saying goodbye.

I was excited to go home. But we had some issues. We ended up going on the wrong exit on the turnpike and had to go twenty miles out of the way to turn around. And then we had another wrong turn and it was another 20 minutes added.

But we stopped for donuts and tacos after that. Donuts for James and tacos for me. And we listened to more tanis and enjoyed the sunset.

We got home around 830. Washed up and now were in bed. My lips are hurting really bad and have split open again. Im going to get actual neosporn tomorrow. Auquafore just isn't cutting it.

But now is time for rest.

I hope tomorrow is beautiful for all of you. Goodnight everyone!!

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years ago

Text

Just A Nightmare

Pairing: Danny Rand x Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: When Nightmare shows his ugly head, Danny has to take the help of an unexpected sorceress.

“Doctor Strange, I presume.” Spiderman remarked from his place on the floor.

“You may address me as Sorcerer Supreme.” He replied, stepping into the foyer. Spiderman and Iron Fist found themselves at Doctor’s Strange’s manor after Nightmare took over the world and put everyone to an endless sleep.

“So, what exactly is going on here?” Asked Peter, scepticism dripping off him so obviously that Strange resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“We shall discuss it once my company arrives.” He said, guiding the two superheroes into another large room but stopping in his path when he recognized the intruder sitting in his chair.

You were lazily strewn across his gaudy armchair, “What is it this time, Stephen? I thought we had a deal.” Your annoyance was apparent to everyone in the room but once your gaze landed on the blonde in the doorway, the words died in your mouth.

“Oh.”

Your cheeks immediately coloured and you muttered a spell underneath your breath to turn your pyjamas into something more suitable. You were used to Strange seeing you in your dirty clothes when you haven’t showered.

And it wasn’t a rare sight to see you like this to Danny either, but you felt the need to look more put together in front of him. There was a warmth on your body before the comfortable set you were wearing morphed into your costume, the cape flowing behind you as it hung off one shoulder as you walked to the centre of the room, avoiding Iron Fist’s gaze.

Spiderman, even with his poor perception of people, could still sense how stiff his teammate had gotten beside him when he saw you. His first instinct was to ask him what was wrong but when he glanced at Danny, he was surprised to see the distant and cloudy expression on his face.

Danny’s voice seemed far away and he could only stare at you. Take in the sight of you and see how you’ve changed. It had been a while; it had been a long while. The last he saw you was months ago and truthfully; he hadn’t been expecting to see you again.

He missed you.

“I’m sure you’re well aware by now Nightmare has taken over the dream dimension.”

You wanted to look at Danny again. Take in the view of him once again but something inside you was forcing you to avoid his gaze. It made your body stiff and it wasn’t a change you welcomed. Especially since you used to feel safest when he was around.

So, you kept your eyes trained on Doctor Strange.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe if you had restrained him properly in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“I’m sorry, who—or what is Nightmare? And who is Miss Magic over here?” Said Spiderman and you tilted your head, doing a silent reading of him.

“I’m (Y/N), I’m a dream walker.”

“Uh-huh, yeah and what exactly is a dream walker?”

“It’s exactly as it sounds, Peter, I can walk through dreams.”

His eyes widened at the sound of his name, “How did you—?”

“The entire planet is asleep. Sorcery is real. I can walk through dreams. And yet you want to know how a person of magic knew who you are underneath the mask?”

“We need you to take us to the Dream Dimension before Nightmare gets more powerful.” Strange began, folding his arms in a way that made you lower you gaze to the floor. You felt like you were doing something wrong even though he was the one asking you for help.

“While I would love to drag along three unsuspecting mortals into the Realm of Dreams, I don’t think you have a stable enough mindscape for me to pull you into it,” You eyed Spiderman who was roaming about and touching half of the artifacts in the room, “Some of you more than others.”

“Will you take us?” Asked Danny, finding his voice for the first time since he saw you.

You sighed, holding his gaze. Your hand twitched by your side and you had to stop the instinct to untie his mask. It had been a while since you saw his gorgeous green eyes, “It’s dangerous as I’m sure you know, if you go, and something goes wrong—”

“But if we don’t then the world will never wake up.”

You but your lip in worry, “I could go alone—”

“Nightmare is too powerful.” He replied, shutting you down instantly, “You can’t do this alone.”

“I don’t want to put you in danger.” You replied stiffly, noticing the way Spiderman’s eyes flitted between the two of you. He was calculating, wondering what the two of you knew and he didn’t but the smarter part of his mind seemed to keep himself from opening his mouth.

“I can handle myself,” You sensed he was getting frustrated and some sick part of you felt pride at the fact that only you could get him worked up, only you could see what he really feels, only you could get him to show his true emotions, “Besides, it’s not your position to worry about my safety.”

Ouch. That hurt to hear.

Your jaw tightened just a bit, “Fine then, if you die, don’t come back to haunt me because this isn’t my idiotic choice.”

You saw a wisp of a smile grow on his face but he caught himself quickly and you stepped away from him muttering a spell as a pentagram began to glow beneath your feet.

“As mortals, neither of you have any ability to enter so we will have to enter my mind to be allowed access to the world of dreams. So, before I let you in a word of warning, if you die in the realm of dreams, your soul will forever be lost. With no chance of return.”

“Don’t die. Got it.”

“Also, my mind is very muddled at the moment so don’t judge me if you see anything weird.” You muttered, slightly embarrassed at the thought of either of them seeing the memory of you dancing around in your room in your underwear.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and casting a silent spell to open your mind, the four of you began levitating in the pentagram and you felt their souls leave their bodies before entering your mind.

When you opened your eyes, you were in a new world.

“Welcome to the most dangerous place in existence, the human mind.”

The trek to the portal to the dimension of dreams was a mundane and boring one. It was mostly with you completely on edge and trying to spot anything embarrassing so you could prepare yourself for Spiderman’s quips before he managed to spot it.

There was no way to speed the process up since the rest of them weren’t dream walkers. They couldn’t phase through the place like you could and they also wouldn’t be able to find their way around, so you had to guide them.

So far, you were yet to see anything embarrassing as you walked through your path of memories. Although they did see you dancing around your apartment in footy pyjama’s which Spiderman laughed off good-naturedly.

A small purr reverberated through the world and a familiar memory floated besides you. You wished it would go away but that only made it get more persistent. But you couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face.

“What are you doing sleeping out here?” You pouted, crouching in front of Danny who stirred on the couch.

His blond hair was sticking up everywhere and he seemed unusually comfortable sleeping on this tiny couch. He opened one eye to peek at you.

“Do you know how many times I almost fell of the bed? I didn’t want to wake you up, but I also wanted to sleep.” Came his muffled reply.

“But I wanted to cuddle you.” You whined and he sighed, shaking his head, “You’ll kick me again.”

You hummed contemplatively before a lightbulb flickered over your head, “Okay let’s do this then.”

You quickly climbed in between his legs, wrapping your arms around him tightly all while giggling like a child. His body reacted to you almost automatically, burying his face in your neck and hands settling on your back.

“You hold me so tightly that I can’t move.” You whispered into his hair and he nodded holding onto you tightly.

You tightened your hold on him, expecting him to support you as you rolled over into a slightly more comfortable position but instead you tumbled off the couch and pulled him with you.

The two of you immediately burst into laughter and you ran your hands through his messy hair, “That hurt.”

“Are you alright?” He asked, concern flashing briefly on his face even though he knew you were. You giggled, hand coming up to frame his jaw and pull him into a kiss.

“No, I’m not okay.”

The two of you burst into laughter again.

“Hey quick question.” Spiderman spoke up and you hummed, “If this is your mind then why am I seeing so much of Danny?”

You released a sharp breath through your nose, glancing at all the memories around you. He was right, it was like every second an image of Danny floated by, whether it was him as Iron Fist, or just himself.

You were either training, or spending time together. Many of the memories was those lazy mornings where you would stare at the pretty boy as he slept soundly before complaining that your stare was overwhelming. Although every once in a while, you would stumble across a milestone memory.

“Are you meditating?” You asked even though you already knew the answer. He had been in the same position for about an hour now and even though the two of you had been meditating together you were quick to grow bored.

He obviously didn’t answer you and you sighed, “How much longer are you gonna do this? I don’t see the point. I sat just as long as you and the only thing that’s happened is that I need a nap and my ass hurts from sitting down for so long.”

Ah, that little smile that appeared on his face. It disappeared as quickly as it came and if you hadn’t been looking for it, you would have missed it.

“How about we go get some ice cream? Or we could go for a walk? Or we could go to that music store that you like and listen to some records?”

He still didn’t move and you huffed, moving closer to him, just by an inch, “I know I’m interrupting your whole zen mode and I’m sorry but I’m bored.”

You moved another inch but were still met with silence.

“Hm, maybe your asleep? Maybe secretly you just think that meditating and sleeping is the same thing?” You mused as you moved closer and this time you could spot the smile that was growing on his face.

You sighed again, “You remember that rude guy we met yesterday?” You didn’t bother waiting for an answer, “I stepped into his dream last night. He dreamt that he was a Tellytubby yesterday.”

The smile got wider and he was trying hard to resist opening his eyes.

“He spoke the whole language and everything. And the sun baby was his mother.”

Your knees were brushing against his and you could hear him taking gentle breaths. You were sure he knew you were sitting right in front of him but you still tried to smother your giggles as you reached closer.

Quickly, you pressed your lips to his, pulling away immediately to see his wide eyes.

“Oh? Sleeping Beauty is finally awake?” You teased as you spotted his ears turn red.

“Did you just? Kiss me?” You nodded unabashedly, giggling as he sputtered, trying to hide the red that splotched his cheeks.

“Why?” “Because I wanted to. Can I do it again?”

He met you halfway this time.

It was obvious that he made you happy. It was so obvious. And while you enjoyed taking a stroll down the literal memory lane, you were quite embarrassed that everyone else was seeing it. Especially Doctor Strange.

“It’s because I think about him a lot.” You replied quietly keeping your eyes trained on the path. Now that you think about it, it was ridiculous that you were taking so long to get to the Dream Dimension. Even though only a few minutes would have passed in the real world, it felt like you had been walking for hours.

You were slowly becoming more and more uncomfortable as you realized that everyone knew that you were still very much in love with Danny, who could have very possibly moved on from you. You were vulnerable.

Whatever peace and security you felt being in your own mind fled and was replaced with burning embarrassment. So bad that you felt your stomach coil tightly.

“(Y/N),” Danny started but you quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear what he had to say, or rather you were afraid of it being not what you wanted to hear and that others would witness it.

Seeing your destination approaching, your eyes lit up, your pace quickening as a response, “There it is! The gateway!”

You all hurried towards the arch that was decorated with ancient runes and language, pressing your hands to it and watching the inscription glow as you spoke an incantation, activating it before stepping in as the others followed suite.

Even though you felt a bit more vulnerable being in the Dream Dimension and outside the safety of your mind, your relief was apparent as the 3 of them crossed the arch to join you on the other side. No more memories for them to see.

But the relief was short-lived when you sensed the disturbance. There was so much negativity surrounding you that it was suffocating. You couldn’t believe a single entity could command so much despair and fear. Even the thought of having your magic touched with such negativity drained you, but Nightmare managed to feed off it.

You couldn’t imagine how.

“Anyone or anything you see here isn’t real. If you see your friends in their nightmares, remember that you cannot help them.” A sudden chill ripped through you, “Nightmare is close.”

“You would be right little dream walker. I caught you and the good doctor sleeping on the job and now the world belongs to Nightmare.”

You rolled your eyes, getting into a fighting stance which prompted the rest to do the same, “You really shouldn’t speak about yourself in the third person. It makes you creepier than you already are. I will ask you once, leave this world and leave the people’s minds.”

“Or what?!”

You whispered a spell and watched as the air around him hardened to shackles before grabbing him with a burning grip, “Or you’ll see what it’s like to fight a dream walker.”

The fight broke out instantly.

You managed to weaken him enough to have to retreat. At least that’s what you liked to think. When you finally caught your breath after the fight, you looked around to realize that only you and the doctor had been left behind.

It didn’t take long for you to locate both Peter and Danny, you realized with a sinking heart that they had been separated.

Although you wanted to go after Peter as well, to see if he was doing alright, something inside you managed to convince yourself that he could handle himself. You wondered whether that was true or was it because you quite obviously wanted to go after Danny.

You summoned the door to the dream Danny was in, immediately recognizing it as one from his homeland, K’un Lun. The stench of Nightmare was dizzying, you could feel his overwhelming power.

He was trying to get a hold of your nightmare, you could feel it, his magic was prodding at the deepest recesses of your brain, trying to grasp at the fear that you kept hidden for so long.

You were powerful enough to keep him from reaching that part, though it took a lot of your strength. Trying to keep consciousness, you held yourself as the snow fell harder, a cold breeze making your nose redden.

When you found Danny however, everything melted away and you ran to his side as he cowered in front of Shou Lou. Your arms wrapped around his waist to keep him upright.

“It isn’t real Danny, snap out of it.”

It seemed like none of your words were reaching him.

Shou Lou neared the two of you, baring sharp teeth and you tensed. Nightmare was so strong, he was seeping into your mind and before you could stop it, the world changed around you.

Snow stopped falling and the temperature began rising, however you couldn’t tell where you were. Everything dulled around you and faded to a blackness and you looked around, but you couldn’t see anything past your nose.

Before you knew it, your vision started getting clearer. You couldn’t tell if it was because your eyes were adjusting to the darkness or because it was getting brighter in the room.

Either way, you caught the movement of a figure hidden in the shadows and you jumped into a defensive stance. Just as you were about to shoot a spell at it, the figure slumped and hit the floor, the glow from its hand dulling.

Wait...glow from his hand?

“Danny!” You cried, rushing over to the figure on the ground, turning him over and you gasped. His eyes were frozen wide and his face contorted into the expression of absolute terror.

His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing.

“Wake up! Wake up!” You screamed, shaking him wildly. He didn’t move. His head lobbed lifelessly as you tried to wake up him.

“Please, please, don’t do this!” You sobbed.

“Don’t leave me!”

“(Y/N)!”

You gasped and the colour returned to the room, the darkness faded and the light was blinding. When you opened your eyes, Danny, alive and well, was holding you with a look of concern on his face.

Realization dawned on you and your muscles relaxed as you slumped against him, wiping away your tears quickly.

“Nightmare’s stronger than I thought.”

“What....was that?” He asked quietly, looking over to the space where he saw his own body as you cried over him. At first, he was too shocked to say anything but when he tried calling out to you, you couldn’t hear him, falling under the influence of Nightmare too quickly.

He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to pull you out of your trance.

He was afraid that you might not come back to him.

“My worst nightmare.”

Your breathing was still laboured and for some reason you couldn’t pull your gaze away from the empty spot where his body was. Nightmare was cruel. It had been too real.

Shakily, you got to your knees before pulling him into a hug. His arms gently wrapped around you and you sighed, trying to sink into his embrace and you gently brushed your fingers through his hair.

“I’ve missed you.” You mumbled into his neck.

“Then why haven’t we been together for the last year?” He asked and you bristled. You had known the question would come eventually and yet it had somehow managed to catch you off guard.

“You saw what would happen if we had continued.” You murmured, vaguely gesturing to where his body or rather where the illusion of his body was.

“That was just a nightmare.”

“I live in dreams, Danny. Had we continued to be together this could have possibly been your future.”

Telling him had been liberating, like a wight had been lifted off your shoulders but at the same time it was sorrowful to admit it. To admit that being with you could bring about his demise, could bring horrible nightmares to life.

And knowing this, he would probably leave you in the dust now.

“Then we’ll just have to find a way because I don’t want to spend another day without you.” He said and you looked up in surprise.

“You aren’t afraid?”

“I’m afraid that when my time comes, I won’t have you by my side.”

It was the sincerity and warmth in his voice that made your heart falter and tears brim in your eyes. All the love for him that you had been keeping away bubbled to the surface and you found your heart being weighed down and simultaneously be set free.

“Really?”

He nodded, cupping your cheek before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You gently returned it, twisting in his grip to settle comfortably in his lap. Everything felt right in the world, everything balanced out and you felt the world around you dissolve into nothing.

“It’s just a nightmare!” You heard Peter’s voice echo in the background and giggled against Danny’s lips. He chuckled as well, before running his hands through your hair and kissing you again.

“Boy, I hope not.”

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