#because its kind of made to do that. its the purpose of our cane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mittensmorgul · 3 years ago

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For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT.

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant. It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.”

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with “I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

#this blue hellsite (affectionate)#fandom problems #kinda wish i'd made this post six months ago but here we are i guess lol #long post #now edited for the people who are actually personally invested in the fandom #thanks for participating in this little experiment and I hope this version is actually informative to those who are interested #meaning there's a lot more links to stuff and explainers and whatnot...#and one last reminder that for folks just swinging through for laughs absolutely none of this applies to you #if you are legit interested in fandom history and preservation as we move to the post-canon world then hopefully this is useful to you

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urfictional · 3 years ago

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𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary: there's a new face in ketterdam and kaz will be forced to strike a deal with the devil in order to get what he desires

warnings: blood, blood, and again blood, mentions of torturing, did I mention blood? my bad writing

A/N: I'd like to say that this is my first time writing a fic but then I would be kind of lying because a while ago I started to write a Kaz Brekker fanfiction on Wattpad. BUT. this is my first time writing a short fic, so we'll see how it goes.

also, English is not my first language so bear with the mistakes (I'm sure that there are some)

It’s hard to earn a name for yourself in the Barrel. You essentially start from nothing and then slowly brick by brick you start to grow your empire. You spill sweat and blood to achieve the goal and from then it only takes so little to remain at the top. It’s simple. One just needs to show the power that they hold. And Y/N has power.

Kaz Brekker was wondering. Standing in a dark room with fancy furniture, his Crows, Inej and Jesper, behind him. He was wondering from where she came from. The girl, approximately his age. Just a few months ago, the Barrel practically swarmed with rumors about a girl that Ketterdam hadn’t seen yet. No one knows from where she came from, or who she is. If Kaz has to think, he even doesn’t know her name.

She has many names but none of them is her real one. At least Kaz thinks that the girl that is sitting in front of him couldn’t possibly be called the Executioner. On the other hand, who knows this is the Barrel. A perfect place for weird people.

“You surprise me Kaz Brekker.” Even her voice sounded mysterious. It was confident, powerful and Kaz caught himself thinking that he could listen to her voice till death finally takes him. “You came to my house, walk through my corridors and now your dirty boots are staining my Persian rug and the only thing that you tell me is that you want to strike a deal that would make us acquaintances.”

Kaz didn’t utter a word. He watched the girl and the girl watched him. Her feet were resting on her desk and she comfortably leaned into the chair. She smirked.

While the Y/H/C haired girl was staring at Kaz, Jesper let his eyes closely inspect the girl. In a weird way, she reminded him of Kaz. Perfectly tailored clothes, black dress shirt, and grey west. Dress pants and heeled boots on her feet that laid crossed at her ankles on the desk’s surface. Her Y/H/C hair made into a tight knot at the back of her head. The only thing missing was leather gloves and cane.

“People who hold power in the Barrel should have acquaintances who do the same.” Kaz would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous about this meeting. He has heard stories about this girl, stories that possibly are nasty rumors, yet you never know. This is the Barrel after all.

She let out an amused laugh.

“And you count yourself as one?” She raised her eyebrows, an amused smile present on her face. “An acquaintance who holds power in the Barrel?” Y/N waited for Kaz to say something, to defend his honor yet he stayed quiet. She smirked while standing up. “Congratulations, you just passed the first test.”

Y/N needed to know if Kaz Brekker really is the Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. She won’t let the boy know all her secrets and ways how she works if he isn’t half of what Ketterdam claims him to be.

“Though I have to ask.” She stopped millimeters away from him. Y/N could feel the ragged breath of his that made her furrow her eyebrows and tilt her head a little. She looked into his eyes and stepped one step away from him. “If you claim that people who hold power in the Barrel need to, say, familiarize with others. What about Pekka Rollins? Hmm?” She watched how Kaz visibly stiffened upon that name. She smirked. Y/N got what she wanted. “I hope you will pass the next test, for I would be glad to make you an acquaintance.” With that Y/N walked past the trio towards the door. “Follow me.”

From outside, the building seemed to look like any other building on this street. Yet when the group made the turns for what seemed like a thousand times, they realized that the exterior is just an illusion. The Crows followed the girl down the steps and judging by the fact that there were no windows, and the air was a tad humid, they were in a basement.

They walked down a corridor. Kaz noted that there were doors every few meters on the left side. It looked awfully like a prison down here. Y/N walked past one door but then stopped causing the group to halt. She walked back towards the doors she just passed and opened the latch in the door. A small window with bars allowed to see inside the room yet the group couldn’t see anything from the position where they were standing.

They could hear a chain rattling and groaning which forced Kaz to think that there was someone in there.

“Well, have you changed your mind?” Her tone was demanding. Kaz observed her side profile. Sharp eyes and clenched jaw, he wondered if this is how he looked when he demanded something and didn’t accept no for an answer. The group heard more chain rattling and louder groan that sounded awfully like no with a couple of colorful words that were no doubt directed towards the girl. Y/N smirked. “As you wish.”

She went to close the latch when she glanced at the group on her left. Then without closing it moved forward along the corridor. Y/N purposely left the window open, she wanted Kaz to see with what kind of devil he is making the deal.

While walking past the doors Kaz glanced inside and visibly gulped. A man in his late thirties was hanging by his hands from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. He was bleeding from, well, everywhere, and by the looks of it, he has been here for a long time. He was barely alive, and it seemed hasn’t eaten for weeks. Kaz wondered if behind all those doors were hanging men or even women.

“Do they even get food or water?” Inej was troubled by the scene that she saw behind the doors and couldn’t help but to be a tad concerned.

Y/N glanced behind her before turning to face the front again.

“When I remember, they do.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. They turned a corner and continued to walk along another hallway. The girl turned to throw a smirk towards the Suli girl. “I am a tad forgetful; you know. Can’t always remember all those poor souls that need feeding.”

So, then there were more people down here. Kaz suddenly wondered how many of them were still alive and how many were just hanging dead.

The group reached the end of the corridor. They were met with a man who was undoubtedly guarding the doors. With one nod from the girl in front of them, the guard opened the doors and let them inside.

This room was bigger than the previous cell that they saw. The walls were lined with cabinets that contained things, starting from various kinds of weapons to bottles of different sizes and colorful liquids.

“How’s our guest feeling today?” The Crows turned to where Y/N was standing in front of a man who, much like the previous prisoner, was hanged by his hands from the ceiling. The only difference was that there were also chains on his feet and he was hovering above the ground. Kaz observed the room and noticed three men standing on the sides. More guards. “Did the acid did its work?”

The Y/H/C-haired girl walked towards the table on her left. She was slowly unrolling the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. After she was done Y/N picked up a bottle inspecting it.

“The man at the market said that it's pretty effective.” Only now Kaz noticed the burn marks on the prisoner’s body. One of the guards stepped forward.

“He didn’t utter a word.”

Y/N tsked while shaking her head in disappointment. She then turned to the hanging man.

“This is not how we work, darling, you know that.” The mock concern in the girl’s voice caused Kaz to shiver slightly. “Such a pretty face ruined for nothing. I can give you one more chance.”

The prisoner raised his head and looked at the girl in front of him. Y/N could easily live without the information that this man could give her but then it wouldn’t be interesting anymore. Any kind of information even the smallest one about the people of Ketterdam could turn out to be useful. You just need to find the right way, the right place and time.

“I am bound by an oath, I won’t tell you anything. Even if I’ll have-”

“-have to die, yeah, yeah don’t I know it.” Y/n interrupted the man by rolling her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

The Crows braced themselves after what came next. The hanging man mustered all the strength that was in him and spit the blood that was in his mouth right into her face. The guards launched forwards, but Y/N raised her hand halting them in their steps.

Kaz watched how the girl was trying to calm her breathing the muscles of her back stiffened. He admired the control that this girl possessed. Not many people that Kaz knew would have such a perfect grip of themselves. Hell, even Kaz himself sometimes dropped the controlled behavior behind and acted a little reckless.

Y/N slowly turned around and the group of three could see the specks of blood on her face mixed with spit.

“Alright, if this is how you want to play. Let’s play.” She pulled out a cloth from her vest pocket and walked to her left where a small mirror was hanged on the wall.

When she was done cleaning her face, she walked back to stand in front of the prisoner. One of the guards walked beside her and handed something that reminded Kaz of a sheathed sword. Y/n took the handle and pulled out a long shiny sword. It was very long, it even was longer than Jesper’s arm. It looked heavy but she held it like it was light as a feather.

“I have always admired the old weapons.” She turned to face the Crows. “All those revolvers, pistols, and bombs, they are boring.” The girl extended her arm and pointed her sword at Kaz while smirking. “There is something about swords and weapons that have sharp and pointy things that excite me.” She glanced at the Suli girl on Kaz’s right. “Wouldn’t you agree with me?”

Inej couldn’t get anything past her lips, so she opted with just a nod.

Y/N lowered the sword and Kaz dared to breathe again. He didn’t even notice that he was holding his breath.

“There is nothing more exciting than feeling the sword digging in the flesh. Feeling the muscles breaking when you turn the sword-” She suddenly looked up at the group and offered a half-embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

Then the smile disappeared, and she turned to walk closer to the hanged man.

“Let’s play a game. Heads or tails, Kaz Brekker?” Kaz looked up startled and watched how the girl turned to face him, any sign of the embarrassed smile long gone. Two steely eyes were staring into his soul waiting for his answer. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

Kaz knew that it was something to do with the way how the girl is going to kill the man. There was no point in trying to get away from that. The man is going to die anyway. With or without Kaz’s answer.

“Tails.” She smirked while turning to the hanged man. “This is your lucky day. You’ll be able to see me perfectly in the last seconds of your life.” Then she turned to face the Crows once more. “I have many names, yet only one of them is true. I am an Executioner.”

Kaz watched how she turned her head and raised her sword. With one swing sideways, the sword cut through the hanged man detaching the top half from the bottom separating him just above the waist. Kaz could hear Jesper cursing from his left and Inej taking in a sharp breath from his right. But Kaz did not let his eyes wander from the girl whose arm was still extended with the sword. The blood dripping from the weapon and the top half of the dead man.

“This part is my favorite.” Y/N lowered the sword and grasped the hilt in both hands, she supported the tip of the sword against the ground like a cane. Now the only thing missing is leather gloves. Jesper thought while watching the girl who yet again looked exactly like Kaz. “His brain hasn’t fully comprehended the pain and the fact that half of him is missing. Last seconds before he dies, he sees my face and wishes he had done otherwise.” Kaz couldn’t see her face, but he imagined a contented smile resting on her face. “The silent art. What could be more beautiful than this?”

Y/N turned around to face the Crows. One of the guards walked closer with the empty sheath. She cleaned the sword before taking the sheath and putting the sword in it. With the sheathed weapon in one hand, Y/N walked closer to the group of three. She stopped before Kaz and squinted her eyes while inspecting him. Satisfied with whatever she saw, the girl smirked.

“Congratulations. You managed to keep everything inside. So did your friends.” She looked from Inej to Jesper then back at Kaz with a cheeky smile. “Some people have the need to display their previous meals. I’m not a fan of those people.” She then pointed at the guards behind her. “Nor are they. Because, well, they are the ones that are cleaning everything.”

Kaz forced himself to not look at the hanging body behind the girl, not a second longer, otherwise, he too will have the need to display the meal he had earlier this day. He was surprised how Jesper managed to hold himself together. Kaz took a mental note to ask him that after they will be done here.

Soon they left the basement and followed the girl back upstairs. They arrived in the room they previously were in. Y/N walked to the cabinet on the left and placed the sheathed sword on a stand. Then she walked to the front of the desk and her hands crossed on her chest leaned against it.

“Well? You still want to make the deal?”

Kaz knew that there is a possibility that he will regret the decision but there was one thing that forced him to not think about this possibility. There was a reason she mentioned Pekka Rollins. And that reason was simple, she wanted him gone just as much as he. If that wouldn’t be the case, she wouldn’t have bothered with all this play. Therefore, Kaz firmly nodded his head forcing a smirk to appear on the girl’s face.

She stood straight and extended her hand, waiting for Kaz to shake it.

For a moment he hesitated, but then slowly extended his hand and felt her fingers wrap around his leather-clad hand.

And so, the devil made deal with the devil.

A/N: aight let me know what you think. ;))

#kaz brekker #six of crows #kazzle dazzle #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows imagines #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker imagines #shadow and bone #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagines

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

Text

Power Over Me - 3.

Bucky Barnes x Reader AU

Previous Parts.

Run-through: CEO James Buchanan Barnes is a dominant. And he’s spent the last 5 years searching for his perfect submissive. Then one night, he finds you. He thinks everything will fall perfectly into place now; but he thought wrong. Turns out your unfortunate past which still haunts you to this day, and some of his enemies are, well, connected. Things go wrong. And your bond with your dom is tested in many ways…

Themes throughout the series: dom/sub dynamic, smut, dirty talk, angst, fluff, soft dom!bucky

Bucky held your hand in his and asked you to follow him upstairs. To his study room.

He very rarely used it, but while you and him made your way up – he had found a use for it instantly.

You looked around, and needless to say, this room was just as orderly and aesthetically pleasing as the rest of his house. The color theme of this room was mainly black and brown, with wooden accents all over. Shelves filled with books, comfortable couches, his large desk, reading lamps, and file cabinets. There were a few plants in the corners of the room, and they looked in perfect shape. The room was light and airy, the large windows showed part of the lush front yard.

You concluded that you liked the room a lot. The room gave a very formal, serious vibe, and you didn’t mind it. It was very fitting for a man like Mr. Barnes.

Bucky spoke up.

“Y/N?” he called out to get your attention, even though you were standing just a feet or two away from him. Him calling you by your name instead of the sweet nicknames caught your attention immediately. You turned to face him.

He approached you and took both your hands in his, his thumb caressed your knuckles as he spoke. “I want this room to be an area that you and I use for serious discussions. You’re free to talk here, and you are not required to call me ‘Sir’, you may call me by my name. James or Bucky, whichever you prefer.” He spoke, and you nodded.

He smiled and looked down at your hands in his. “In this room, we’re not just dom and sub. We’ll need to be open, and honest to each other. Okay?” he needed to make sure you understood.

“Yes.” you answered, smiling faintly.

“Good.” He said and stared into your eyes. You could still see remnants of his dominant side, even if he was trying to tone it down. Control was his forte, so you weren’t entirely surprised. “Let’s take a seat, and we’ll talk.” He walked over to his large desk. And he waited.

He didn’t order you to sit. He didn’t point to any chair in particular, he just waited. You walked over and sat across him. He sat down as well. He noticed your head wasn’t hung low, you faced him properly. He liked it.

“Remember, Y/N, open and honest.” He reminded you, softly. He took a deep breath, “Now tell me what you learned during your training with Thor.” He leaned back in his leather seat. And you mindlessly mimicked his actions, and straightened your back.

You responded after a short pause. “I was taught that masters know best. And that as a sub, I should always, always take whatever they give, without ever interjecting. And I was taught that I should be grateful for whatever attention I get. For that, I had to abide by his set of rules, do my chores and everything else.” You ended your sentence abruptly.

Bucky frowned. “What’s everything else?” he asked. He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer to this but he had to hear it once and for all.

You had nothing to hide, not from him. “Please him, sexually. Else I was said to be ungrateful and undeserving of his attention. Sometimes we would go days and weeks without playtime, because he said he was dissatisfied with my... performance.” You replied.

Bucky noticed the change in your tone. You weren’t scared or nervous, you sounded like you were getting something off your chest. You sounded like the more you talked, the more you felt free.

You did indeed.

Bucky shifted in his seat. He knew this was hard for you to talk about, but it was hard for him too. He wanted nothing more than to just punch that excuse of a man in the face. “Did you wear his collar?”

“Yes.” you responded and he felt a weight on his chest. He hated that answer the most.

“For how long?” he braced himself.

“Two years.” You replied.

Bucky nodded. “What else can you tell me about your time with him, and his training?” he asked. This conversation was uncomfortable, but it needed to be had.

You sighed, looking down at your lap with a strange look on your face. You pitied yourself. “He was intense. He didn’t believe in safe words, or limits, or dos and don’ts.” That pretty much summed up the kind of dom Thor was.

“What if you didn’t like, or didn’t want something?” he asked right away. His anger was building again.

You had the same sad smile on your face as you thought about everything. “I wasn’t allowed to not like something. He trained me into thinking I had no say in anything.” You looked up and faced him. Bucky had never felt a bigger need to protect you like he did now. “And, I couldn’t leave him because…” you trailed off.

He pieced it together. “Because you needed a dom.” He completed your sentence.

You nodded. “Amongst other reasons, yes. That too.” You spoke, he frowned.

Other reasons? “What other reasons?” he questioned, bracing himself again. Fearing that he might hear something he hasn’t been expecting.

You looked down again. “He wasn’t just my master. He owned me, quite literally.” You said. Bucky waited for you to continue – a strange emotion picking at him on the inside. You continued, “He didn’t choose me at the line-up, we didn’t mutually agree on it beforehand, he just gave the club money in exchange for me.�� You paused. “He bought me.”

Fuck. Bucky swallowed audibly. You looked up at him, but didn’t think much of it. He didn’t say anything, he was too busy feeling terrible at the sad look on your face.

You spoke again, “Then he got bored.” That sad smile was back again. Bucky felt like someone was very slowly piercing a dagger into his heart, making sure he feels the pain for as long as possible. You continued, “He brought me back to the club, and took his collar away.”

Bucky cringed at your words, almost like he had been slapped across the face. Oh baby… he still remained quiet.

“He forced the club to give him a huge chunk of his money back. They did. But then I had to work for the club, to somewhat make up for it and pay back the money they had to return him. I cleaned before opening and after closing time. They did pay me, but they would take most of my salary away each time.” You didn’t look up at him when you finished talking.

Oh, so that’s what you meant when you said you worked for the club? Bucky thought to himself, processing all the new information you had given him. The strange emotion from earlier still gnawed at him. I’m sorry my angel…

He cleared his throat, attempting to ignore the lump which was forming. “Thank you for telling me. I highly appreciate you being honest with me. I know this was a hard conversation to have, but I’m glad you trusted and confided in me.” He spoke softly.

You looked up at him and smiled faintly. “Thank you for not treating me like a burden, or a commodity like Thor did.” You meant what you said.

Bucky smiled, even though guilt, shame and worry washed over him like a harsh wave. He also noticed that you finally called Thor by his name. Guess this conversation had served its purpose after all. “You’re a priority of mine, Y/N. I will never take you for granted.”

You looked up at Bucky like he hung the moon, and for a few seconds he didn’t know how to act. He forgot where he was, he felt something; a pull. Oh…

He was getting overwhelmed by his emotions, so he changed the topic quickly. He got up from his chair and walked over to you and sat down on the seat next to you. You and him had another lengthy conversation about the real meaning of the relationship between a dom and a sub. Some of his words really moved you.

“I’m here to lift the burden of control off your shoulders whenever you need me to. I will treasure and respect your submission. Your comfort and consent is a priority. You are a priority. I will mold you into the best version of a sub that you can be.”

He continued talking, and you looked into his eyes and wondered where he had been all your life. “Your obedience, your submission, the ability to control you, your responsibility and well-being. Having all that is a big deal. I can’t have you be scared or nervous or hesitant around me. Trust and communication vital for our relationship, okay?”

He spoke looking deep into your eyes. He reached out and held your hand in his again. “Don’t you ever, ever forget that I need you as well. I need you as much as you need me. I need you to tell me things, good or bad. Everything, I need to know.”

You nodded at his words. He continued, “You need to trust me without any hesitation. And remember, even when you submit yourself completely to me, you still have the reins in your hand. You have the power, you just hand it over to me in the playroom. And you allow me to control you and be your dominant and give you what you need. But it still is your power.” He explained. His words echoed in your head. “Do you understand, Y/N?”

You nodded. He tilted his head, giving you a ‘really?’ look. You smiled, “I understand, Bucky.”

He tried not to let it show, but his heart fluttered at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He smiled at you. And the conversation went on for a longer while. You had questions, he had answers.

Then the two of you discussed your limits. What you were willing to try, and what not. Dos and don’ts. Hard nos, and maybes.

“No whips and canes?” he wanted to confirm, looking up from his list. You shook your head. Nope. Bucky scanned the list again. “Riding crop?” he asked. And you had an adorable pout on your face as you thought.

“That’s fine.” You said. He smiled and pushed the list towards you.

“Anything else?” he asked, and watched you intently as you scanned the list and did a little confirming nod at each thing you saw in the dos and don’ts.

“Nope, this is perfectly fine.” You pushed the list towards him again. “Won’t you show me your playroom?” you had a spark in your eyes as you spoke.

Bucky chuckled. “Later, I promise.” Honestly, he couldn’t wait either. But he had some work related things he needed to take care of first, then he would dedicate his entire evening to you and catering to your needs.

Bucky stood up, after putting the sheet of paper in a file. He held his hand out, he had missed holding you in the past hour or so, he couldn’t be as affectionate as he would like given the topic of your conversations were rather serious. “Come on, let’s go back downstairs.”

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the room. Once into the hallway, you spoke up again. “Thank you, sir.” You went back to his preferred title.

“What for, baby?” and he went back to his usual nicknames. He tightened his grip around your hand and you mindlessly scooted further into his side as you two walked back downstairs.

“For being so kind, and caring. For not threatening to leave me or return me to the club if I misbehave.” You voiced out your honest thoughts. Part of Bucky frowned at your words, but part of him liked the honesty.

He stopped at the end of the stairs. “Hey,” he cupped your face. “Forget Thor. Forget the club. I know it’ll take time. But you have to do your best and let what happened in past remain in the past. Okay doll?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Once in the living room again, you blushed when you saw the couch on which you were bent over earlier. The tingly feeling came back when Bucky pulled you on his lap again, purposely sitting on the same very couch where he had spanked you earlier.

He pulled you closer as you straddled his lap. “Now tell me, what do you normally enjoy doing?” he asked, then leaned in to kiss the side of your mouth. “Apart from being a perfect little angel, of course.” he added, chuckling and kissing down your neck.

You giggled. “I’m pretty boring. I like animals, I read, I do love plants and gardening.” You replied and he pulled away to look at you with a smile.

“Good thing I have a library and a sunroom. See? You’re absolutely perfect.” He complimented you again and resumed kissed and nibbling on your neck. “Anything else?”

You nodded. “I love baking! But I couldn’t do so with my previous master because he-,”

Bucky cut you off with a rather irritated look. You immediately avoided eye contact and looked down to your lap, and his.

“Look at me.” He sounded stern again. You reluctantly looked up into his eyes. You could still see the caring Mr. Barnes, but he also seemed strict. “He is not your master anymore. You will call him by his name. I have been nothing but good and lenient to you.” he slid his hand into your hair and gently massaged your scalp. “But if you bring up that vile and cruel, disgusting, excuse of a man again, there will be consequences.” He made sure to speak slowly and allowed his words to register properly in your head.

You gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He immediately dropped the mean demeanor and pulled you closer. “It’s okay baby, now you know.” He spoke and looked down at your lips for a brief moment. For a moment you thought he would lean in and kiss you. You almost whined when he didn’t. “And feel free to bake whenever, just be careful and don’t hurt yourself.”

You two talked for a little while, then he got a call. Something at his office needed his immediate attention so he had to leave.

“The housekeepers will be here by noon. The chefs comes at around 2. Make yourself at home, baby. I’ll see tonight for dinner.” he left to go get ready and he came downstairs in around 20 minutes.

“Be good for me. You can check out the sunroom and the library in the meantime, okay?” he kissed your forehead before leaving. You smiled as you watched him leave. Damn he looked good in suits.

You had checked out the library, and marveled at Bucky’s collection. You checked out the sunroom, and fell in love with it.

Then you got bored.

You were fully aware that he had told you he had people for everything, but you still told the chef to leave early because you wanted to make dinner tonight. You were willing to take the risk. Bucky had been nothing but kind and gentle and caring and giving to you. You wanted to somewhat, return the favor.

Besides, he had an irresistible kitchen. Well-furnished, all white and spacious. You looked out the window often as you cooked, and you made a mental note to check out the backyard sometime soon. It looked so lush, and well-maintained. You wondered how the trimmed grass would feel beneath your bare feet.

You were making a fairly easy dinner. Stuffed chicken breasts, tomato soup and garlic bread. The aroma let you know that it would be great. And once you finished cooking, you went upstairs and showered, put on a nice little sundress and waited for Bucky’s return impatiently.

He had asked you not to, but you still made him dinner. Would he punish you? Or was that alright? You hadn’t seen his playroom yet, but still, the thought of being brought to his playroom and have him punish you was rather exciting.

You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book when you heard the front door opening and closing. You waited, your anticipation growing. Then you saw Bucky walk in; his tie was off, few buttons of his shirt was undone and he ran a hand through his short hair as he walked in.

You didn’t realize how much you had missed him these past hours, until the urgent need to run into his arms and hug him took over you. But you stopped yourself. Instead you put the book down and stood up from the couch, smiling at him.

Bucky chuckled. He could see your hands shaking from holding back from him. He knew how much you liked and needed his soft and gentle touches. He extended both his arms out in front of him, “Come here, baby.” And that was all he needed to say.

You rushed into his embrace and wrapped your arms around him tightly. You pushed your face into his neck and breathed in his cologne. You let out a little moan as your relished his touch. He ran a soothing hand down your back. You stayed like that, in each other’s arms, for quite a while.

“Looks like someone missed me?” Bucky teased. You whined. He chuckled and pulled away to look at you. He held your chin and stared down into your eyes. “Hi, baby.” he whispered.

“Hi.” You whispered back. You still seemed a little sheepish, not knowing how he’d react to you making dinner even though he told you not to. He caught it.

“What is it, angel?” he asked, leaning down to gentle kiss your cheek. He let his lips linger on your skin.

You mindlessly played with a button on his shirt while you spoke, “I know you said not to cook but I sent the chef home early and made you dinner myself. I… I wanted to do something for you, to say thank you for being so nice to me, sir.” You reluctantly looked up at him.

He seemed to be deep in thought. But he didn’t seem angry.

He cracked a little smile. “Well, since my angel made me dinner, I better check it out.” He spoke, kissing your forehead.

You were all smiley after hearing that he wasn’t mad about the whole dinner thing. You held his hand and you two walked into the kitchen together. Bucky got himself a glass of wine and waited at the island while you made him a plate.

He watched you intently. Studying your graceful movements, thinking…

Dinner was amazing. Usually Bucky ate alone, so it was nice to have company for a change. Besides, he concluded that you were a great cook. After you two ate, you placed the dishes in the dishwasher and turned to face Bucky, thinking he’d have the same smile he had throughout dinner. But you were wrong.

He looked at you, sipping on his wine with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. Oh…

He set his glass down and got down from the stool, “Come here, baby.” he said softly, but you could tell that it was the dom in him talking. You walked over to him, by the kitchen island. You didn’t know what to expect.

He leaned in closer to you, and kissed your cheek. Then moved his mouth down and along your jaw. “Dinner was nice, angel.” He whispered against your skin. You knew a ‘but’ was coming. “But you still disobeyed me when I clearly said there was no need for you to cook.” You shivered at his words. Not in a bad way, in a damn good way. “Do you think my words aren’t meant to be taken seriously?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean t-,” you started out. He cut you off.

“No. I don’t want to hear anything, baby.” He chuckled, his voice sending tingles down your spine – tingles which ended right in between your legs. His next few words made you weak in the knees.

“I think it’s time to introduce you to my playroom, don’t you think so sweetheart?”

Bucky’s playroom was exhilarating. You were nervous upon entering the room, but it was a good kind of nervous which heightened all your senses. You took it all in. You did get flashbacks of the past, but then you pushed it aside. This was Bucky. Sweet, kind, caring Bucky. He would never exploit you. He would respect your limits. You were safe. You were safe with him.

The room was darker than the rest of his house. It had darker shades at the windows, it had a darker color theme; black and dark grey with accents of deep red. The walls were dark grey, the modern four-poster bed and the satin sheets on it were all black. And the couch not far from the bed was a deep red. So was the bench next to it – a whipping bench.

You started noticing the equipment around the room. You noticed the large cross on one side of the room, with cuffs on each end of it. The sight of it made you bite your lip instinctively.

You noticed the chains suspending from the ceiling, with cuffs at the ends as well. A fairly large, padded table on the other side of the room. You noticed the hangers with more equipment suspending from it; floggers – suede, leather and fur, cuffs, ropes, paddles – leather and wooden, canes, riding crops, whips, ball gags, blindfolds, plugs and vibrators. You saw something shining even in the dim lights, and you realized those were Wartenberg wheels.

A pleasant tingle danced down your spine.

“Y/N, look at me.” Bucky spoke up, and ceased your imagination which was running wild. You turned to face him. “There are rules that apply in my playroom.” He spoke, softly still and lazily running his hand through your hair. “Each time I’ll tell you to come to my playroom, I want you bare by the bed with your hair down. You understand?” he looked down into your eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He almost smiled. “Now, there will be only obedience on your part in this room. No arguing, no talking back. Disobedience will be followed by fitting consequences. You may use your safe words whenever you feel the need to.” He spoke and lazily trailed a finger down to your mouth and traced your lips. “In this room, all of you belongs to me. You will obey, and submit and most importantly, you will trust me with all you have while I correct your behavior. You understand?”

You were completely enchanted by his voice. You felt lighter. Even in the dimly lit room, his blue eyes put you in a trance. “I understand, sir.”

He smiled this time. “Good girl.” He cooed, and trailed his finger down your neck, amused by how your body reacted to his. “Now, although you meant well, you did disobey me today.” Bucky walked around you and stopped behind you. “I said there was no need for you to do chores, because I don’t want you to exert yourself. I need you to be lively in my playroom, not tired.” He pushed your hair aside and kissed your exposed shoulder. You shivered. “Just because I’m nice and lenient, doesn’t mean you get to disobey me whenever you feel like it.”

You shivered again when he bit your ear lobe, tugged on it and kissed it. “Do you understand why you need to be taught a lesson?” he asked, murmuring in your ear. His voice, his touch, his body heat… it was all too much already. How would you endure his punishment?

“I understand, sir.” You replied, closing your eyes.

“Why so?” he wanted you to say it.

“Because I didn’t listen.” You were surprised at how you weren’t afraid of him. You knew you had messed up a little. Just a little. But you weren’t trembling in fear. If anything, you awaited the punishment. His punishment.

“Good. Now I want you to get undressed and bend over the bench, and wait for me. Can you do that for me?” he whispered in your ear. You felt a tingly and hot and bothered just with his voice alone.

“Yes, sir.” You responded, almost breathless already. He gave you a little tap on the butt, and you moved forward instantly. You walked over to the dark red leather bench and stared at it while you undressed until you were completely naked. You slipped the dress off and positioned your legs properly and bent over it. You waited, just like you did this morning.

But this was different. This wasn’t in the living room, this was in his playroom. You waited, and since you couldn’t see him, you relied on your hearing to try and figure out his movements. You heard the shuffling of clothes and the unbuckling of a belt.

Then you heard him walk over to you. “I’ll be easy on you today, given you didn’t mess up too bad. But you still need to learn, don’t you?” he asked.

You agreed. “Yes, sir.” Oh fuck me already… the thought of being filled with his cock was driving you crazy with need. Your heart raced as you heard him take something off the hangers. Whips and canes were hard no’s of yours, and he pledged to respect your limits. So you calmed down a little. You were still tingling however, as you waited.

Then you felt something, soft against your butt. Something so soft it tickled. You realized it must be the fur flogger. You wiggled your butt as he pressed it further against you. You waited for the impact of the flogger, but it didn’t come. Instead, you felt a pair of lips leaving soft kisses up and down your inner thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs further apart and pushed your ass out. Bucky chuckled against your thighs.

“So eager,” he commented, his warm breath fanning your wet folds. He stood up and lifted the flogger up in the air, and then brought it down fairly hard on your skin. You let out a little yelp, not out of pain, but just because you weren’t expecting it.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, he needed to make sure before continuing.

“Yes, sir.” Your answer sounded firm.

He struck your butt with the flogger again. And again. Then waited, and let a few seconds pass. You waited as well. Then instead of the flogger, he spanked your with his hand, like earlier today only harder this time. You groaned under your breath as the tingles faded into pleasure.

Bucky alternated between the fur flogger and his hand, at some point you stopped trying to guess which one was coming next. You let him do as he pleased. Your soft groans and whimpers turned into loud whines and moans within the next few minutes. And you were dripping; your arousal and need trickling out of you and down your thighs. Bucky enjoyed the show.

“What color, baby?” he asked.

Green. Green. Green, please touch me. “Green, sir.”

Out of nowhere, he slowly slipped a finger inside of you and stroked your walls gently. You moaned wantonly, and he fingered you so slowly that it was both pleasurable and agonizing. “Look at you,” he cooed, “So pretty.” He chuckled when you tried to grind your ass against his hand. “You’re dripping all over my hand.” He commented.

You whined as he slipped his finger out of you and spanked you a few more times. “One of the first things I told you today was to listen to me when I talk. Obey, when I say something.” He brought down the flogger against your butt again. Followed by a spank which made you whimper. “But you did the exact opposite.” Spanked you right in between your legs, earning a loud moan out of you. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he waited, making sure nothing was touching you where you needed him to, so desperately.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whined. “I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again.” You could feel him standing right behind you, looking at you; so exposed. But you didn’t feel the need to hide. You had nothing to be ashamed of.

He hummed, placing his hand on your butt and massaging it a little. “Say it again.” he pulled his hand away and brought down the flogger again. Smack. You whimpered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen, sir.” You said, gasping as he slipped a finger in and out of you rapidly just once.

“Say it again. And mean it, baby.” He could feel his own throbbing erection pressing against the front of his pants. He spanked you again, followed by the flogger.

You wiggled your butt and groaned. “I’m sorry for not listening to you earlier today, sir. I truly am. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You were wanton with need. Begging, both verbally and physically.

He hummed again. “Stand up and go lay down on the bed.” He stepped away from you, watching you as you followed his orders obediently. He noticed there was a glow on your face.

There indeed was, because you finally, after so long, felt carefree. Like you didn’t have to bother about what happens next because you left it all on Bucky. And he managed the responsibility of having control over you perfectly. You just followed his lead, and his hums and sighs and comments brought you immense pleasure and you were content. Satiated, somewhat.

You laid on the cool black satin sheets. And it did wonders for the stinging sensation on your butt. You made sure you were right in the middle before lying perfectly still. Bucky was still out of your line of sight. But you could hear him taking off more things from the hanger. Then you heard him approach you, then felt the bed dip on one side.

“What color, baby?” he asked again.

“Green.” You didn’t hesitate in answering. He hummed in appreciation before taking one of your wrists and tying it to the upper right bedpost. He used black ropes, and the knot was fairly tight. Tight enough to hold you in place but not tight enough to hurt you. He then moved to the other side and did the same thing. Once he was done, he came to a stop right in the middle, where you could see him if you lifted your head just a little from the cool pillow.

He didn’t tie your legs to the lower bedposts. Not this time… he thought. But this still left you completely at his mercy. Your heart raced. Your lower region throbbed in need. You needed him, so badly. And the look of hunger in his eyes, and the very obvious bulge in his pants didn’t help either.

Fuck he looked good. Shirtless, but still in the dark pants he wore to work. You noticed the veins down his arms.

“I would say you took your punishment very well.” He spoke, climbing into bed. “So you get to cum tonight. But you disobeyed me today, so you don’t get to touch me.” He hovered above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Which is why I tied your hands. You understand, baby?” he asked. He sounded very strict at the beginning, but by the time he called you ‘baby’, he got back to his usual, sweet and caring tone.

You nodded frantically. “I understand, sir.” Your body was on fire. You were throbbing, dripping. He was so close, so close… his broad shoulders, his tan skin, his muscular arms, your hands itched just holding back from him. But you couldn’t just reach out and touch him, no, he had made sure of that. You whined under your breath. All he was doing was look into your eyes, but you were writhing already.

He leaned down to kiss you right in between your breasts. Not quite where you needed him, but it still felt damn good. His mouth trailed up and down your body. He purposely avoided where you needed him the most.

He kissed down each one of your thighs, carefully avoiding touching you were you were dripping, and waiting, throbbing with need. He chuckled when you squirmed as he kissed over your hip bones. His warm breath fanned your wet folds and you nearly moaned out loud. He kept his hands at your waist as he tortured you lovingly. Taking his sweet time.

He peppered your skin with kisses, trailing his lips from one hip bone to the other, slowly. You were moaning, squirming and burning with desire by the time he climbed up your body again. He looked you deep in the eyes as he undid his pants and lowered it just enough to free his cock. You shuddered at the sight of it.

“What color, baby?” he asked again, smirking.

Fuck…

“Green, sir.” You sounded like you were pleasing, begging him to just take you already.

And he did. He didn’t waste any time in lifting your legs up and wrapping them around his waist. “You did so good today, baby.” he mumbled, aligning his cock to your entrance. You whined as you felt his cock press against your folds, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He gave you a gentle smack on your thigh. “Look at me.” He whispered, pressing his tip to your opening. “I want you to look at me while I take you, baby.” He whispered a little breathlessly, looking straight into your eyes.

You listened, and stared deep into his eyes like he wanted you to. Slow and steadily, he pushed himself into you. You whined, and clenched around him immediately as you felt all of him. He leaned down to kiss the side of your face and whispered in your ear about how good you were. You heard his ragged breaths as he removed himself out and pushed himself back into you again.

You moaned as he stretched you out perfectly, your body welcomed him in like he wanted it to. All you could focus on was how he felt snug, deep inside you. His warmth, his loving words and how your bodies connected – it was all overwhelming. Your lips parted, you gasped as he began moving against you, staring deep into your eyes.

“That’s it my angel, take all of me,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and thrusting deeper into you. You whimpered as he sped up a little. He growled and gasped and moaned. You relished the feeling of being in his arms, not worrying about a thing; not the past, not the future, not what would happen next. You were here, with him in his playroom and that was all you needed.

Your back arched off the cool satin sheets as he sped up even more. His hand occasionally brushed against your slightly sore ass and you whined each time he did. Bucky fucked you quicker, harder; making you squirm and tremble under him. And oh how he liked it.

The sight of you tied in his playroom, knowing that you trusted him completely and that you knew you were safe with him here. Allowing him to take control, and correct your behavior as he deemed fit.

He sped up again, rocking his hips against yours at a pleasurable rhythm as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. You thought he would control your breathing as well, but he didn’t. He just kept his hand there, and you found yourself liking it. A lot.

It was like a reminder; you’re mine.

Your legs tightened around him as you felt a familiar warmth wash over, as the pressure in between your legs got more and more intense. “Ah, you are so good, babygirl.” He mumbled, pushing his face into your neck. Nibbling and biting your skin as he pounded into you harder than earlier. “You’re all mine.” he growled in your ear.

Your moans and mewls got louder. His growls got more frequent. And you could feel yourself slipping away into euphoria. “Can I… can I please cum, sir?” you asked for permission even though he told you that you could earlier. He groaned, and pulled away to look into your eyes again. He could feel you clenching around him and he knew he wouldn’t last long either.

“Yes,” his voice was right between a growl and an involuntary moan. “Cum for me, my little pearl. Cum with me…” he sped up again, fucking you relentlessly. His stare was intense as he watched you come undone under him with a loud moan. Your walls clenched violently around him, milking him perfectly.

He came right after you, growling and gasping loudly as his warm load filled you up. He took a second to calm himself down and then he let go of your legs immediately. He rushed to untie you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head and your forehead.

“You did so good, my angel. I am so proud of you. You’re such a good girl.” he mumbled over and over again as you let him hold you, your body trembling still. His words made you so happy. Yes, I am! I’m your good girl!

You had a smile on your face upon hearing his words – which was a rare thing for you, after playtime, you rarely smiled in the past. But you were now. This kind of happiness was new to you, but you welcomed it with open arms.

Bucky ran you a bath, in the large bathroom he had upstairs, right after stepping out of his playroom. He helped you into the large bathtub, filled with warm water and sat you down in between his legs. From the moment you settled in between his legs, his hands and lips didn’t leave your body. He caressed down your sides, ran his hands along your thighs and kissed down your neck, making you giggle each time he kissed your ticklish spot.

He grabbed one of the detachable shower heads and rinsed your hair first. Then squirted some shampoo in his hands and gave you the best shampoo you ever had. He took his time, massaged your scalp and leaned down to kiss your cheek occasionally. He rinsed your hair then let you lean back against him as he washed the rest of you with the loofah sponge. He paid a lot of attention to your breasts, and your inner thighs. And you were very giggly through it all.

Then you got quiet. “Baby?” he called out, fearing you might have fallen asleep with your head against his chest.

“Hmm?” your reply came. He could tell you were slowly slipping out of the headspace you were in inside the playroom, and he wanted to ensure that you were okay.

“Talk to me.” He sounded slightly pouty. You giggled. “I need to make sure you’re okay, angel come on. How are you feeling?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed, relishing the warm water and the feeling of his strong arms around you. “I’m fine, sir. I’ve never felt better.” Your answer was honest.

He smiled and brought his hands up to your shoulder and gave it a much needed massage. He could see how you were calming down at his touch. “I want you to know that I was easy on you today, baby. Should you ever disobey me again, there will be harsher consequences. You understand, my little pearl?” he thought you should know.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He immediately attacked your face with loud, open mouth kisses which made you laugh out loud. He loved the sound of you so happy and safe and carefree in his arms. I will protect you with my life, babygirl…

Although he was content with you in his arms, your head tilted back, leaning against his chest. There was something he still needed to answer to. “I need to ask you something, baby.” he spoke against your sweet smelling, damp hair.

You turned to your side and looked up at him. “Anything, sir.”

How adorable. He took a deep breath and made sure to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “You can refuse me if you want to. But I was wondering, would you want to wear my collar?” he asked.

Your heart fluttered. His collar. Mr. Barnes’ collar. You searched his eyes. There was not an ounce of doubt, or hesitation in his eyes. Just care, and affection.

“Yes sir.” You answered, truthfully. And his heart raced. Oh baby…

He smiled and pulled you back into his chest. “You make me so happy angel, you know that?”

You nodded. “You make me happy too, sir.” You snuggled further into his embrace. And so you stayed until the water got cold.

Bucky helped you out of the bath tub, dried you with a towel and wrapped a fluffy robe around you, tying it securely around your waist. He did the same for himself, and then held you hand and led you to his bedroom. This was the first time you entered his room. And it was just as classy and elegant and organized as he himself was.

“Come here, baby.” he called out and you walked over to him by his huge closet. You noticed something shiny in his hand as you approached. “Kneel.” His voice reminded you of that night at the club, when you first pleasured him. You hung your head low, but then he said, “Look at me.” You did.

He looked down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. “This collar represents my control over you. Whenever you have it on, it is your duty to abide by my rules. When you have it on, you are required to trust me with your complete submission. Disobedience will be followed by consequences.” He paused, giving you time to process everything. You recognized some of his words from his study earlier.

He continued. “I will respect you, care for you, and treasure your submission. I will correct your behavior when needed. Your physical, mental and emotional health is my priority. You are my priority. Don’t ever forget that, baby. Okay?” he had that soft look on his face again.

You nodded quickly. “Yes sir.” He was so respectful, and gentle. Your heart fluttered in anticipation.

“Good girl.” He spoke, reaching out to caress your cheek. He then bent down a little to clasp the collar around your neck. It was cold. But you didn’t know what it looked like yet because you were focused on his face. Oh his handsome face…

“Stand up baby.” he said, and you did as he asked. He walked you over to the large mirror in his room and stood beside you in front of it. You saw the collar around your neck in the reflection and you couldn’t help but reach up and touch it.

It was beautiful. Light, bedazzled and pretty. From far, it looked like just a very expensive diamond choker. You stepped closer to the mirror to admire it and see the details. Engraved very faintly on the thin metal strip in the middle section were the initials, J.B.B, so small and faint that one would have to stand very close to you to see it.

“You like it, angel?” Bucky asked.

You looked at him through the reflection. You nodded. “I love it, sir. Thank you.”

He smiled. “You earned it, baby. I should be thanking you for being so good to me.” He stepped closer to you and kissed your head again. You smiled and looked down, all the emotions in his eyes were too much to handle.

“Now, you may not wear it out in public. Or on days when you don’t feel like you want playtime. It’s up to you. But each time I ask you to go to the playroom, I want it on. Okay?” he explained and you nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Then he did something unexpected. He turned you around gently, looked down at how beautifully his collar adorned your neck. He gently held your chin in his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. A proper kiss, on the mouth. Oh…

His lips were soft, and his taste made your heart flutter. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and wishing neither of you had the robes on. He kissed you deeply, slowly pushing his tongue past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth. You moaned quietly into his mouth. He smiled through the kiss. “You’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips as he pulled away gently. Finally.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You confirmed.

He smiled brightly. “Now come on, bedtime.”

He held your hand again, and walked you over to your room. He went to find you PJs while you removed the robe. He dressed you; first underwear, then the cotton shorts, then finally a loose t-shirt. He kissed your lips again, once he was done getting you ready for bed.

“Are you gonna watch me sleep?” you asked, teasing him a little since he was still sat in your bed despite having tucked you in for the night.

He chuckled. “No, I’ll go once I make sure you’re asleep.” He cooed, stroking your hair. “Close your eyes baby, you’ve had a long day. You need to rest.”

Hmm, a long but pleasurable day. You thought to yourself. And that was the last thought you had before drifting off to a much needed sleep.

Bucky played with your hair until he heard your deep, steady breaths signaling that you were fast asleep. He leaned down to give you one last forehead kiss. “Good night, my little pearl.” He took another look at his collar around your neck and walked out of your room.

On his way to his bedroom, he thought of the whole day. The revelations, and how you trusted him with your secrets. He thought of Thor, and how upset you were while talking about how the latter bought you and used you.

Then Bucky thought what he himself did recently. I’m sorry baby. I did it for you, all for you. I hope that one day when you find out, you understand why I did it, angel.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky barnes #marvel au #bucky barnes fluff

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years ago

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

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Part 7

You knock on the hotel door twice, firmly. Wanda opened the door swiftly. She had been waiting. You were grinning as you entered the room and all kinds of thoughts were running through her head.

"What happened?"

She follows you over to the beds and watches as you sit down, scrambling to take off your shoes and sit back against the headboard. She got comfortable on her own bed again, having been sat there watching TV while she waited for you.

"We kissed."

The squeal that she made did not sound even remotely human. There was a huge grin on her face as she leaned forward. Wanda to hear every detail.

"What happened? Tell me!"

"Well, we got to The Iron Grill. Helmut was a perfect gentleman, pulling out my seat for me. Stark made a speech that I couldn't care less about, and then out cane the food. It was a taste testing session, basically."

"Taste testing?"

"Yeah, their were samples of every main course meal on his menu. We're talking about two dozen tables each sampling the same things. Then he brought out deserts for us to pick from. Helmut and I chose one each and sampled each others deserts just to try. Honestly, the sweets were the best part. The menu was otherwise standard and not all that interesting."

"Then there can't possibly be anything to worry about," she tilts her head at you.

"Well, about that..."

Her brow furrows as she looks at you. A sudden dread filled her as she waited for your words. Something was very early wrong here.

"Tony Stark had us back at the end when it was all over. He wanted to buy Escorpión Morado from Helmut, claiming he might as well do it now before it fails. He said he would buy it anyway, renovate it to accompany The Iron Grill."

"What? The audacity of that man! What did Zemo do?"

"Well, he got angry, of course! The biggest insult that could be offered was just spoken. You can't just buy Helmut's family business and think that's OK! I stepped in before Stark could any more damage, I defended Helmut ad his restaurant. Then we left. Helmut pulled me to the side and looked at me like I was the only other person in the world. He kissed me and told me to stay

"He is so in love with you."

You chuckle softly.

"What are you going to do?"

You look Wanda on the eye, smiling.

"I'm going to stay."

She leaps off the bed and collides into you, arms wrapping around you as you both both laugh. Wanda is so happy for you. She's so proud of you.

The next morning, over breakfast, Wanda tells you about some of the places she had found for you. She has meant it when she said she would look for somewhere for you.

You were glad she did.

You spent most of the day looking at the places she had found. It was quite fun looking around the apartments with her.

Lunch time rolled around and of course you both headed to your favourite spot. The doors were open and waiting for you.

Helmut was at the bar, talking to Sam, but they both stopped when they saw someone entering.

Suddenly, no one else mattered. You both looked at each other and smiled. Wanda tries not to make a fuss, but she was ecstatic to see her best friend hopelessly in love with the chef in front of them.

Helmut walks around the bar and comes to stand in front of you.

"Hello."

You both just smile at each. His hands reach out for yours and he brings them to his lips, kissing them both.

Helmut wasn't going to hold back.

"How are you?" You ask, very much aware of the other people in the room watching.

"I'm good, I promise."

"Good."

You lift one hand to the side of his face and caress his cheek softly. He melts into your touch, holding your hand there.

Wanda coughs into her fist.

You both drop your hands and turn to her. Sam also looking rather smug from behind the bar.

"What can I get for you?" Helmut asks, making his way back to Sam's side. Wanda and yourself sit at the bar.

"Surprise us," you say, smiling.

Helmut chuckles and nods. He looks at you for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen.

Wanda and Sam share a look.

Sam fixes you both a drink.

"So, what have you two been up to then?"

"We were looking at apartments," Wanda tells him.

"Apartments? You're thinking of moving here?"

"I am, yeah," you say, smiling down at the counter.

"Zemo really got through to you, didn't he?" He grins.

You glance up at him.

"Yes, he did. I think... I think he needs me, now more than ever. His pride and joy is being threatened and we have to do something to save it."

"No wonder he's so in love with you," Sam chuckles.

The more they say it, the more embarrassing it becomes, but also, the more true it feels.

Helmut returns with two dishes in hand, he places them down in front of you and comes to stand opposite you.

"Enjoy," he whispers, voice a little raspy, and most definitely sexy. Did he do that on purpose?

You glance at him before tucking in.

"Thank you."

As always the food is delicious.

Wanda and Sam end up conversing with each other as you and Helmut get lost in your own conversation. He can see only you when you're in the room.

"Wanda and I were looking at apartments," you tell him.

Helmut's smile seems to grow.

"You're going to stay?"

"Yes."

He leans over the bar and captures your lips in a fierce kiss. You smile into it, no longer caring about Wanda sitting right beside you.

You're so very happy!

"Then don't look any further," Helmut says, pulling away, but not too far away. He wanted to remain close to you.

"Why?"

"Because you could come live with me. I don't live far. My place is big enough for the two of us."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Only if you're comfortable doing so. I don't mean to move things along so quickly, but I have a spare room you can have."

You glance at Wanda.

She nods rather quickly.

Your eyes meet with Helmut's again and you smile.

"Alright."

Just when he thinks you can't make him any happier, you do. He kisses you again. You're laughing softly as you kiss him back, reaching for his hands that were resting on either side of your face.

"I must be the luckiest man alive."

You chuckle, lowering his hands and smiling at him.

"I would say I'm the lucky one."

"You two are so cute, its sickening," Wanda grins.

Both yourself and Zemo laugh. He stands upright, the distance between you feeling large now.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," you say, going back to your unfinished meal.

"I'm glad you are," Zemo smiles.

"I'll make sure they move in quickly," Wanda chimes in.

"Enough about me, what are we going to do about Stark?" You look at Zemo.

"What can I do? He is sure he is going to be a success here and that I will fall. Everything my father created will just fade into nothing and I'll have to go elsewhere. I'll work for Stark when Hell freezes over," he sighs.

"Then, we have to do something big."

"Like what?" Wanda asks, looking at you.

"What if we give Escorpión Morado a make over of our own? Reinvent the menu, have a grand opening of our own. Remind people that this place is here."

Helmut looks at you at so softly.

"You would help me do that?"

"Of course! I need time to become a citizen of Sokovia, but then I'm all yours!" You smile at him.

"All mine?"

"...yes."

If it weren't for Wanda and Sam looking at him, he would kissed you again.

"Then we better get started," Wanda said, pulling out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking up what we have to do to make you a citizen. You'll move in with tall, dark, and handsome chef over here, work in the beat restaurant in the country, and live happily ever after!" She grins.

"This isn't a fairytale, Wanda," you laugh.

"It's much better than that," Helmut said, looking at you with big soft eyes.

"I'm really doing this."

"Yes, you are."

You smile at him.

For the rest if your stay in Sokovia, you visit the restaurant every day. Helmut shows you where his apartment is, letting you look around. It's very him. Wanda gets all the details you'll need for moving here, and before you know it, you're standing outside the airport with Zemo's arms around you.

"Next time you come back, you'll be here to stay."

"Yes. Just like you asked me to," you say, softly in his ear.

"Don't keep me waiting too long."

"I won't. I'll be back before you know it."

You pull away from one another to look at each other. He has this huge goofy grin on his face as he looks at you.

"I want to tell you something, but I don't know if it's the time to say it," he says, almost whispering.

"What is it?"

He licks his bottom lip, seemingly quite nervous. His eyes flicker between yours, trying to make up his mind on if he should say it or not.

He's going to say it.

"I love you."

You smile.

You kiss him, hands tugging at his collar to bring him to you. His hands settle on you as he kisses you back just as urgently.

"I love you too," you say, breaking away from him.

"We to go!" Wanda calls from behind you.

"I'll see you soon," you tell him.

"I'll be waiting for you!"

You regretfully let go of him and grab your bags. Helmut watches you as you wall with Wanda into the airport. He hates seeing you leave again, but knows that when you come back, you'll be coming back to him, to stay.

You blow a kiss at him before you disappear from sight.

He smiles.

Things feel like they're turning out for the better, and he feels over the moon.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @swooning-for-mc-avoy @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #marvel #au #chef zemo au

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years ago

Text

Purple Roses (Ms Venable x reader)

I guess this is a big fluff fanfic lol

summary: you work in a flowershop..

request by anon: Heyyy I was thinking about a fanfiction (Ms Venable x reader) where reader starts to work at a shpo (I don't know what kind of shop 😅), where Venable usually goes. They fall in love at first sight, but Venable is afraid of showing her feelings, so it's up to reader to try to gain her trust.

well..its a little bit different than the request

pt 2:

https://littlejeaniehugsbumblebees.tumblr.com/post/642067045376245760/purple-roses-pt-2-miss-venable-x-reader

google translate lol

You've worked in your aunt's flower shop since you dropped out of school at 16. Flowers were something very beautiful, you always thought that. It might not be an important job, but it was enough to make people happy and that made you happy too. Unfortunately, your parents couldn't understand that and at home everyone was waiting for you to catch up on your school leaving certificate or finally get a boyfriend. And it annoyed you so much simply because you were happy with your life. Why couldn't they see that?

It was Tuesday afternoon and, as always, there wasn't much going on in the shop. Mrs. Rodriguez, an old woman who lived on the block next door, had come to collect her roses, as she always did on the first Tuesday of the month. And like every first Tuesday she was in your ears with how badly you needed a rich boyfriend to develop your talent, which was wasted in this flower shop.

"You know, when I was your age, I was already the mother of three children, lived in a big house and had visited the whole world .." she told you while you were removing the thorns from her roses.

"I can only tell you again and again, we only live once, so make something with your life!"

"Yes Mrs. Rodriguez .." you mumbled and were distracted by her words as the shop door opened.

A woman entered the shop and immediately the whole atmosphere that had made up that boring Tuesday afternoon changed.

Her long, purple coat came almost to her knees and the gold belt buckle shone in the light of the shop lamp. The woman had beautiful red hair that she wore in a perfect ponytail. Your eyes wandered to her face and you watched her dark eyes critically examine your shop. For a brief moment you stared at her painted lips and then directed your gaze to her stick, which was probably the most interesting thing about her. And by that you didn't mean the fact that she needed a stick, but rather the way she walked with the stick. It was more of an accessory that underlined the pride that it already exuded, even more than it was a walking aid.

All in one, you thought she was beautiful.

"Uhm, Y / N, you're bleeding ..." said Mrs. Rodriguez suddenly and made you look at your hands in confusion. She was right, you cut yourself.

"Fuck .." you mumbled and pulled a plaster from under the counter to wrap it around your finger.

"Are you okay?" The old woman asked confused and you just nodded and gave her her roses.

"See you next month, Mrs. Rodriguez .." you said and she just mumbled a quick bye before leaving the store.

Your eyes were again on the mysterious woman who was still undecided in the shop.

"Can I help you?" You asked aloud and put on your nicest smile.

The stranger looked up and frowned at you.

"I'm looking for flowers .." she said curtly and made you laugh.

"Well, I think I can help you with that. For what occasion do you need flowers? As a gift, to-"

"I want some for my apartment. I live alone and everything seems relatively dead .." she interrupted you.

"Wouldn't a pet be the solution then?" You tilted your head.

"I work too much for that."

"And what about tinder?", You grinned cheekily and she just looked at you disapprovingly.

"Can you help me now or not?" She asked gruffly and you became serious again.

"Which colors do you prefer? And do you have a lot of time to look after the flowers?"

"I like purple .." she said, clutching her cane with both hands.

"Ouh that's perfect!" You exclaimed and came out from behind the counter.

"We just got a delivery of lilac-colored roses yesterday ..", you walked past her to go to the box with the roses.

"Look .." you said and held out the box to her.

The woman nodded curtly.

"They are beautiful.."

"I know .." you smiled again. "I can also remove the thorns if you want .."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Sure you can?"

Your gaze followed hers and you blushed when you realized she was staring at the plaster at your finger.

"I can do that .." you mumbled and went back to the counter before you put the box on the table and started to remove the thorns from the roses.

The stranger said nothing and went wordlessly to the counter, which assured you the approaching knock of her stick. The fact that she was closely watching your handicrafts made you nervous and you remembered the critical look that had been in her eyes after she walked into your shop.

"Why did you come to our store?", You asked to break the silence between you two.

"Lies on the way to my work .. ", she muttered and you looked up briefly from the flowers to see that her eyes were indeed staring critically at the roses.

"Where do you work?" You tried again before you started pulling the thorns out of the flower stems again.

"Kineros Robotics .."

"Ouh, that's cool .. a friend of mine once had an internship .." you said and pulled the last thorn out of the rose. You reach under the counter to pull out paper, in which you then wrap the roses and press them into her hand.

"$ 55 .." you said curtly and leaned on the counter to watch how she pulled the money out of a black leather wallet and put it in your outstretched hand. And for a moment you had the opportunity to look at her perfectly manicured nails, which were painted in a dark shade.

"Thanks .." you said, smiling again as you watched her just nod before leaving your shop.

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

When this mysterious woman showed up at your store a week later, you couldn't help but be surprised, which didn't mean you weren't happy. As strange as it was last week, you still enjoyed this encounter very much.

"The flowers have wilted .." she said as she leaned against the counter.

"I want my money back.."

You let out a laugh.

"You want your money back? It's not my fault if the flowers wither .." you laughed and looked into her deadly serious face.

"Did you water them?"

"Of course I watered them," she growled.

"Did they stand in a dark room?"

"What the hell..no .."

"Then I have no idea why they might be withered .." you said with a grin.

"Then you're doing your job very badly ..", she replied and pressed her lips together. You rolled your eyes

"I'm a saleswoman and not a biologist ... Now I understand why you can't get a pet when you can't even take care of a few flowers."

"It's not funny .." she hissed, glaring at you. You shrugged and ran your hair through.

"I don't think it's funny either ... Rather wasteful, $ 60 for roses just so they wilted after a week .."

"As I said, I watered them.."

"Then maybe they have committed suicide .." you started and you couldn't help but grin again. "... Because they thought you were creepy."

She was still glaring at you and looking like she wanted to punch you in.

"Look ..", you sighed and put your hands on your hips. "I don't know exactly what you want from me, but you definitely won't get your money back ... I can sell you new flowers .."

"Then do that .." she managed and you had to smile.

"Those roses again?"

She nodded and you ran past her to get the box.

"I hope you cut yourself again while cutting the thorns .." she said suddenly as you put the box on the table and made you laugh.

"Be careful what you say, otherwise I won't cut the thorns at the end, but one of your pretty fingers ..", you grinned and began to remove the thorns. And again you felt her eyes watching every movement of your fingers, but this time it wasn't as weird as the week before.

"My name is Y / N .." you said suddenly.

"Miss Venable .."

"Miss is a very interesting first name .." you said sarcastically.

"I don't know what my first name should bring you," she replied.

"Well then I'm Miss Y / L / N ..".

You reached under the table to get the paper out before you wrapped the roses in it again and gave them to her.

"$ 55 .." you said, smiling smugly when you saw that she was still frowning at you.

Like last week, she took out the money and put it in your outstretched hand, but this time her fingertips lingered a little longer in your palm and let your smile freeze. You didn't know if she was doing this consciously or if it was unintentional. But you knew it made your knees go weak.

"Thanks .." you mumbled and withdrew your hand to put the money in the till.

"Better take care of the flowers this time, okay?"

"I promise .." she replied and for the first time a smile seemed to dance on her lips before she turned and left the shop.

You just stared after her thoughtfully. She was by far the weirdest customer you have ever had. But definitely the most attractive.

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

"That's impossible .." you scolded when she was back in your shop a week later and told you the roses had withered.

"I'm sorry .." she said annoyed.

"So either you're doing it on purpose or you're just irresponsible .." you mumbled and suddenly gave an Lache off.

"If it is the former, you can just say that you like to see me and you don't have to pay $ 55 every week .."

You lifted your eyes to see her pale skin turn reddish.

"Do you still have those purple roses?" She asked, ignoring your comment.

"Nope .. but I have red ones, if that's enough for you ..".

"That works too ..", Ms. Venable said and you did not go unnoticed as she nervously knocked her stick on the floor.

As in the previous weeks, you hopped past her, got the box with the roses, put them on the table and began to cut out the thorns.

And just like the weeks before, you could feel her staring at your fingers spellbound. It was uncomfortable.

"Jesus, could you please stop staring at my fingers like you're about to have an orgasm?" You asked, putting the knife down before looking at her annoyed.

"It's fascinating .." she muttered, embarrassed.

"Probably rather disturbing ..", you rolled your eyes as you picked up the knife again to continue your work.

"May I give it a try?" She suddenly asked, making you grin.

"You could also simply plant rose bushes yourself"

She shook her head.

"Too much work.."

You snorted in annoyance and put the knife in her hand.

"Well, you have to hold the knife up with your thumbs .. And then you pull the knife from top to bottom over the flower stem .." you explained and put one of the roses in her other hand.

As critically as she always watched you, you now stared down at her hands and watched as she tried to remove the thorns.

"No no no .." you interrupted and tapped her wrist.

"If your strength comes from here, you will get stuck with the knife in the stalk ..". Your hand went to her elbow.

"You have to work from here ...".

She nodded slowly and you watched with a grin as she continued in vain.

"And you said last week that I would do a bad job .." you said when she gave up and put the knife back in your hand.

She mumbled something unintelligible before you started to do the rest yourself.

You sighed as you put the flowers in her hand and watched as she pulled out her wallet.

"You know, you could just give me your number instead of the $ 55 .." you said, cocking your head.

"Forget it .." she mumbled as she pushed the money into your hand.

"Pity."

And like the weeks before, she strutted out the door without saying anything.

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

When Miss Venable came to your flower shop a week later, she was disappointed to find that a strange woman was standing behind the counter.

Somehow she got used to coming here every Tuesday and watching you at work. And that the roses had withered was of course a lie (3 beautiful bouquets of flowers were now in her apartment), it was just an excuse to come here every week and now you weren't there.

Wilhemina slowly went to the counter and watched the strange woman in front of her, instead of you, cut thorns from the roses. But she couldn't do it half as well as you.

Sloppy .. went through her head.

"How can I help you?" Asked the woman and gave Wilhemina a polite smile

"Where's Y / N?"

"Ohh Y / N is sick, I'm her aunt .." said the woman and put the roses aside.

"Are you a friend?"

"Something like that .." muttered Miss Venable.

"Um, I can give you her address if you want?"

Miss Venable frowned. Was that right?

"You don't have to visit her, but if you want, you have the adress .." added the woman in front of her and Wilhemina nodded slowly.

She watched as the woman took a small piece of paper and wrote on it before holding it out to her.

"Thank you ..", Wilhemina mumbled, took the slip of paper and turned to leave the shop.

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

You groaned in frustration at the sound of the door ringing. What idiot would dare to bother now? Tired you trudged out of the kitchen into the hallway to open the door. Your eyes widened when you saw who was standing in front of you.

"Oh no .." you muttered, staring at Miss Venable. You could only imagine how awful you must look. Disheveled hair, pajamas, no makeup and a flushed nose from your cold.

"You look good .." said Miss Venable, looking dead serious, but you knew it was meant ironically.

"Ha ha .." you made dry. "Where the hell did you get my address from?"

"Your aunt gave it to me ..".

"My aunt?" You repeated confused and she nodded.

"Come in then .." you muttered and stepped aside to let her in.

"Excuse my chaos.. ", you gave her a crooked smile as she entered the apartment.

"Usually my customers don't visit my apartment .." you laughed and went into the kitchen.

"Sit in the living room .. Do you want coffee or something?"

"Black with one sugar please ..", you heard her voice from the living room and made you grin, somehow she was cute.

"Don't you have a bed?" She asked you when you came into the living room while she was sitting on your sofa with your bedding on it.

"Too much space ..".

You gave her the cup and sat down next to her on the couch.

"It's also so much more practical .."

She frowned and took a sip from her cup.

"How long do you live here?"

"Since I was 16 ... dropped out of school .. please don't ask why .."

She nodded slowly and you couldn't help but stare at her. The fact that she was sitting here in your living room was more than confusing and you didn't know if this was really happening or if it was your medication to blame. Actually she was a stranger, you didn't know anything about this woman and yet she was now sitting in your messy living room and drinking your cheap coffee.

"What did you want in the store today? .." you yawned

"Flowers .." she replied dryly and played with the cup in her hands

"Because the others have withered?"

"Why else?"

You shook your head, grinning, and pulled the sheet over your legs before closing your eyes.

"You're unbelievable.."

"Thank you ..", the woman in front of you muttered with a frown and let you raise an eyebrow with closed eyes.

"That wasn't a compliment .."

The answer you were hoping for did not come and you noticed how you became more and more sleepy, which was due to the medication you were taking before the doorbell rang.

"Wilhemina .." you suddenly heard her voice say far away.

"What?"

"My name is Wilhemina .."

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman .." you muttered before finally drifting away.

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

"I thought you weren't coming ..." you greeted Wilhemina with a soft smile as she stepped into the shop on Tuesday evening.

As always, she had a dead serious face and you wondered if she could even smile.

"I had to work longer .." she explained as she stood in front of the counter.

"So, my dear Mina, how can I help you today?" You asked, tilting your head.

Miss Venable raised an eyebrow.

"Mina?" She repeated.

"Its cute .."

"It sucks .."

"Okay okay .." you raised your hands defensively.

"Anyway, do you want roses again?"

She shook her head.

"Not today .. You know, I have a date on Thursday and was wondering what kind of flowers she likes .."

You froze at her words.

Somehow you felt betrayed.

Confused, you watched as the serious woman burst out laughing.

"You should have seen your face .." she laughed and you blushed.

"I'm sorry .." you mumbled, embarrassed.

"Of course you are and now sell me your stupid roses"

"My stupid roses .." you repeated quietly as you turned around to the shelf behind you and held out the finished roses.

"You're already done ..", she remarked with a frown.

"Yep ... no horny stare at my fingers today .."

She snorted at your words and you watched her take the money out.

"So you have nothing to do on Thursday?" You asked, giving her a subtle look.

"It was a joke ..": she said and gave you the money, which you accepted with trembling hands. You bit your lip in nervousness before squeezing out the following words.

"And what do you think, if we do something together on Thursday?"

"Like what?", She looked at you disapprovingly.

"Like a date? I dont know .." you muttered and screwed up your eyes.

"Okay."

"Okay?", You stared at her confused.

"Does that mean 'yes?"

"Yes .." she said and shrugged her shoulders.

"As long as I don't have to go back to your horror apartment, everything is okay”

"Well, thank you very much ..", you moaned. "Will I at least get your number now?", You said with a grin and got a pen and paper that you gave her and then watched her scribble her number on it.

"See you Thursday ...", you smiled sweetly as she pushed the paper back across the table.

She just gave you a vague look before turning to walk to the exit. But shortly before the door she stopped.

"6 pm .." she said without turning around.

"And don't be late, I hate unpunctuality..."

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

Two days later you were cycling through the city to go to Mina's apartment. The fabric of your dress fluttered around your bare legs and made you tremble. The wind tousled your hair and you had to find with regret that what you had just stood in the bathroom for two hours for probably schon was destroyed again.

To say you were nervous would have been the biggest understatement of the century. On the one hand it was because your last date was a few years ago and on the other hand it was because of Wilhemina. This woman was so extraordinarily different that it seemed almost impossible for her to exist.

And you found her incredibly attractive. You found her stern demeanor, how perfect her hair looked and the fact that the whole atmosphere changed when she walked into a room...

Your breath caught as you turned into her street and her house came into view. A large white new building with a cube-like shape stood on a plot of land surrounded by lawn. The building had huge windows, all of which were lit with soft light.

No wonder she called your apartment a "horror apartment", probably even her cellar was nicer than the place you lived in.

After hooking up your bike, you hurried to the black door and looked nervously at your watch. It was exactly 6 p.m.

You raised your hand on the doorbell and before you could ring the doorbell swung open and presented Mina.

"On time." Was her only comment, but you didn't listen to her at all and were only fixated on what was in front of you.

How could she look so good?

The woman in front of you was dressed in a purple blouse with a lace collar and the matching skirt. Her red hair, which was usually tied into a ponytail, was pinned up and, as always, she wore this dark lipstick.

"You're staring, Y / N .." she remarked with raised eyebrows and made you blush.

"M'sorry .." you mumbled before you held out the red wine that you bought a few hours ago.

"Uhm..for you? I thought flowers were uncreative .."

"Thank you ..", she said curtly and made room for you to enter the house.

The house looked just as perfect from the inside as it did from the outside. White walls were adorned with pictures whose motifs you did not understand. There was expensive designer furniture everywhere and instead of doors there were just passages. But what fascinated you most was the fact that instead of lamps there were candles that were placed everywhere and provided the dimmed light.

"I like fire .." she told you when she noticed your interest in the candles.

You nodded briefly. "It is nice.."

And of course her kitchen was beautiful too. You felt more and more ashamed of your small apartment. Wilhemina probably had more different knives (which, by the way, were all perfectly arranged on the wall) than you had cutlery in total. And the thought of her living alone in this huge house was a little scary.

"So Y / N ..", she started and pointed to the set table.

"I'm not the best cook, but I really tried hard with these noodles .."

"I am sure, that its perfect ..", you smiled gently at her and sat down on one of the two chairs before she sat down opposite you.

For the next few minutes you just sat in silence and quietly ate your food. You just didn't know what to say.

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" Mina suddenly asked and let you lift your head.

"Oh god, Mina, no," you said quickly when you saw her narrowed eyes.

"Its delicious .."

"Okay .." she mumbled quietly, poking the noodles with her fork.

"Why do you actually need this stick?" You asked after a few more minutes of silence. She was clearly surprised by your question.

"Is that important?" She frowned.

You shook your head quickly.

"No .. I was just wondering .."

"Well, it's because of my back .." she finally said after wrestling with herself for a minute.

"I have scoliosis .."

"Oh .." you uttered and she subtly lifted her gaze to see your face.

"I'm sorry .." you added quickly.

"Does it hurt?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"It is not permanent pain .. some days every step hurts, while other days it only hurts when someone touches it .."

With worried eyes you watched as she took a sip of her wine and her gaze was fixed on the stick next to her.

"It's incurable .." she added and put her glass back on the table.

"I had an unsuccessful operation a few years ago and now I only get regular painkillers ..."

"That's awful .." you muttered, playing with the fork in your hand.

"You know, the problem is less the pain .. I just hate to see it, it looks disgusting .." she was still staring at her cane.

"I guess you can't look ugly .." you said softly and put your hand on hers. She raised her gaze to you and frowned at you before mumbling a little "thank you".

Like it was something you said to make her feel better. But you meant it, she was just beautiful. It was just sad that she didn't know.

You spent the rest of the evening in the woman's huge living room.

She told you about her work at kineros robotics and you about yours in the boring flower shop. Actually, not much happened, but you thought it was just right and by the end of the evening you already had the date for your second date.

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

Ms. Venable was more than surprised when you invited her back to your apartment on Thursday last week. In her eyes, your weird apartment wasn't a nice place for a second date, but for your sake she'd agreed.

for your sake

That felt kind of weird .. In general, she felt weird around you. Unlike all the other people, she didn't hate you, on the contrary .. And she hated herself for not hating you.

Jesus, she could never hate you.

She loved watching you work, she loved your laugh, and she even loved your annoying, overt flirting.

She loved you.

But she could never tell you that, she couldn't even admit it to herself anymore. That would only make everything unnecessarily complicated and actually she wanted to break the whole thing off before it became too much.

The problem was, she couldn't cancel it, it had been too much since she first visited your shop. And now the thought of breaking your little heart made her feel guilty.

Finally she arrived on your floor and let out a relieved breath. Climbing stairs with that stupid stick was very strenuous.

Just like you did a week ago, she checked her watch.

10 p.m.

She was on time.

10 p.m. was a bit late for her taste, but you insisted and now she was standing here and knocking briefly on your door, which opened less than a minute later.

"Hello beautiful woman ..", you greeted her with a grin and Ms Venable couldn't help but smile.

"I thought flowers were uncreative ..", she repeated your words from last week and held out a box of plasters to you.

"That's why I have plasters for you, in case you stare at your customers again and cut yourself away while thorns ..", she grinned and enjoyed the blush that was forming on your face.

"You're mean .." you muttered before you took her box.

"Wait here a moment ..", you disappeared back into your apartment.

Wilhemina frowned.

"I thought we would spend the evening in your apartment ..?"

"Not quite .." you explained when you reappeared in the doorway with a jacket around your shoulders.

"I didn't want you to get scared in my 'horror apartment', so I hope you don't mind climbing a few more stairs .."

"Okay ..", Miss Venable muttered, still confused, and followed you up the stairs.

"You weren't in the shop on Tuesday .." you said, sounding a little disappointed as you climbed the steps in front of here.

"I thought it was superfluous because I see you today .."

You turned your head to face her and grinned at her.

"So do you admit that you always came, just because you wanted to see me ..?"

Wilhemina stopped and stared at you. Damn.

"Shut up, ..", she growled and you laughed before you started climbing the stairs again.

"You know, not everything is bad about living in a skyscraper with small horror apartments .." you told her when you got upstairs.

"Unlike you, I have a roof terrace .." you said proudly and opened the door that led to the roof.

The icy wind immediately whipped against Mina's face as she stepped on the roof.

But as cold as it was, she had to admit that the view was beautiful.

Not only did you have the opportunity to look down on the whole city, also the sky seemed to be open to you and no tree, no house and no cloud blocked your view of the stars.

Ms. Venable had never seen the night sky so clearly and for that alone it was worth climbing the remaining steps.

Her gaze fell when she saw you in the corner of her eye as you stared at her with a grin.

"Better than my horror apartment, right?" You asked smugly and she just shook her head in amusement.

"You know, I didn't mean the 'horror apartment' badly .."

"That was hardly a compliment ..", you remarked skeptically and turned around to go over the roof. Miss Venable followed you, of course, and inspected the way the roof had been designed by the residents. It was obvious that everyone had their own area up here, as many areas were separated from the others with temporary wall. Some had set up tables or chairs, while others had set up a kind of garden.

"Uhm .. this is mine ..", she suddenly heard you say and followed what your finger was pointing at.

Behind a partition, which was a simple wooden frame covered with fabric, was an obviously self-made bed. A simple mattress lay on a couple of Euro pallets.

At the head of the bed there was a board with a chain of lights winding around it and the bed itself was overflowing with pillows that didn't match in any way, but it still looked pretty cozy.

"Oh fuck .." you suddenly uttered and made Wilhemina flinch.

"What is it?" She asked confused as she stared into your worried eyes.

"I'm so stupid ..", you hit your forehead with your hand.

"I forgot that you probably can't sit here with your scoliosis .."

"Don't worry about it .. it works for a while," Mina calmed you down and watched you chew your lip.

"For real?"

"Yes.", She gave you a reassuring smile

"Then come here .." you said with a grin as you sat down and reached out your hand to her. Wilhemina hesitated briefly, but then took your hand and let you gently pull you onto the bed. For a brief moment, she was afraid it was actually too much for her back, but when she leaned against the pillow that you had placed in front of the wooden board, she relaxed.

You sat down next to her and now pulled a cloth blanket over both of you before you leaned back and put your head on her shoulder.

"We have to do that in summer too, because it's not that cold and you can watch the sunset ...", you mumbled and Mina was shocked by your words. In summer.

That was confusing, it was just winter, you had known each other for a month and now you were talking about what would be in six months.

"Did you make the bed yourself?" She asked to change the subject.

"Nope, my cousin helped me ..", you explained. "And I'm really grateful for that .. my apartment is really quite cramped at times and then I'm happy if I can come here to think about everything .."

"I thought you like your life?"

"I like it, but everyone else doesn't like it ... everyone says I should catch up with my school leaving certificate and then do something useful ... sorry, but I hate my parents .." you said and took her hand in yours.

"And sometimes I also wonder what if I had finished school?"

"Understandable ..", Wilhemina muttered while she stared at the starry sky and lost herself in it. It was one of the best moments she'd ever shared with anyone. The rustle of passing cars, your flowery scent, which didn't come from perfume, but from your job and then this sky.

Also the fact that your head was on her shoulder and your hand was intertwined with hers didn't make her jump and somewhere she was enjoying it.

She had no idea how many minutes you had spent and it was your whisper that broke the silence.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please what?", Mina winced and instinctively slid away from you.

You quickly took your head off her shoulder and looked carefully into her eyes, which were staring down at you in alarm.

"If it's okay, I mean .." you added quickly, clinging to the ceiling between the two of you to hold on to something.

" I don't quite understand what this is supposed to be..", Mina said and tried to keep calm so as not to go crazy. She watched you take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

"Okay Mina .." you started and screwed up your eyes.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I generally don't believe in love ..." she replied coldly.

Your eyes widened at her words.

"Then why are we dating?"

Miss Venable didn't answer and just stared at you. That was bullshit ... you only knew each other a month, you couldn't love her. It was impossible.

Your eyes started to fill with tears when she didn't answer. And when she saw that, she closed her eyes.

Great, Wilhemina, now she's crying because of you.

"Y / N please ..", she mumbled and tried to grab your hand, but you jumped away.

"No Mina .." you said, still crying, and got up.

"It's my fault, I should have known .."

Again Wilhemina could only stare at you. If there was one thing she didn't want, it was that you were hurt because of her.

You ran your hair through before you crossed your arms over your chest.

"I'm sorry if I got too close, but I thought you would feel the same way .."

You stared down at her expectantly, but she looked at you again with a frown

"This is pointless .." you muttered and grabbed your jacket.

"I think you can find the exit on your own .."

You started to leave and just wanted to go down to your little horror apartment to bury yourself in your uncomfortable sofa, but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

"You're not going anywhere .." she growled and you let her pull you back onto the bed. You sat across from her and looked at her impatiently while she was trapped in her head, trying to form sentences.

"Are you still saying anything or just staring?" You asked annoyed

"Okay, I guess, I like you too .." she finally pressed out.

"You like me too?"

"Yes? I dont know .."

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

"You dont know .."

"It's complicated ..", Mina stammered and struggled for words.

"Tell me more.."

"I'm not really good at saying what I'm feeling .." she tried further.

"Obviously."

"Y / N please .." she muttered. "I hate being emotional, it makes me weak .."

Weak. At her words you frowned. You'd always noticed that she was a little stiff, but she actually seemed to have trouble talking about what was going on inside her.

"What did they do to you, that you think something like that .." you whispered when you saw tears running down her face and she averted her gaze from you and stared into her lap.

You carefully reached out your hand to place it on her cheek. She looked at you carefully and with all the pain in her gaze you couldn't help but feel bad.

"I hate people .." she said quietly and more tears welled up in her eyes and made their way down her face. Your heart broke at the sight.

You reached out both arms to her to pull her to your chest. You rubbed her back gently with your hands, trying to be as careful as possible not to hurt her while she cried into your shoulder and clung to you.

It took a few minutes for her to calm down and pull back from your chest to look at you.

You actually wanted to say something, but she was faster and suddenly pressed her lips against yours. It was unexpected and her lips tasted like the salty tears, but still it was the best kiss you had ever had.

"I love you .." you mumbled against her lips so as not to get the answer you had hoped for a second later.

"I love you too.."

#wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #american horror story

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theoutcastrogue · 3 years ago

Text

On Burglars’ Tools

[article on The Manufacturer and Builder, May 1874 issue, New York]

It is indeed doubtful which displays the greatest amount of ingenuity, the honest mechanic who tries his best to make so-called burglar-proof locks, fastenings, shutters, doors, and safes, or that class of dishonest mechanics who provide the professional burglars with the most ingenious tools to pick locks, loosen fastenings, open shutters and doors, and rob safes. The New York police are experiencing continually that this line of business is progressing, and that especially the skeleton keys for picking locks have of late undergone several important improvements.

The burglars' tools, in the language of the profession called “kits,” are divided into several classes; they are jimmies, chisels, wedges, hammers, skeleton keys, nippers, drills, punches, jacks, clamps, etc. We present in our engraving some specimens of the modern and most improved kinds.

Fig. 1 is a claw-jimmy, very useful for prying between doors and shutters, while the claw is indispensable to withdraw heavy nails, break screw-heads, nuts, springing shutters, etc. Fig 2 is another form of jimmy, used for digging walls and turning bolts. Figs. 3 and 6 are other forms of jimmies, and can be united to one large jimmy. Figs. 4 and 5 are heavy chisels, used with the sledge-hammer, Fig. 8, for different purposes, as opening doors by breaking the hinges, etc. Fig. 7 is, in the professional language, called “the little alder-man”; it is nothing but a short, small wedge of steel, very thin at one end, and very useful in opening safe doors. Figs. 16, 19, and 20 are a few specimens of skeleton keys, but the form at present manufactured in New York is double, having a key at each end, and is represented in Figs. 14 and 17. The nippers for turning the inner keys of bedrooms in hotels from the outside, are represented by Fig. 21. The bits and drills are the very same as used by all mechanics, and therefore not represented ; but the professional burglar is never without his oil-can (Fig. 18) and powder-can, (Fig. 15.)

It is evident that the burglar must be prepared for an emergency, and be properly armed. The pistol and revolver are sparingly used, and then only in case of being discovered and prosecuted. In general they are employed to frighten people into silence; while the arms mostly used are the loaded club (Fig. 9,) the sand-bag (Fig. 10,) the brass knuckles (Fig. 22,) and various styles of slung-shots (Figs. 11, 12, and 13.)

Burglars, as a class, are foremost to make use of the progress of science, and not long after the introduction of anaesthesia in surgery, burglars availed themselves of chloroform and ether, which they now often kindly administer to sleeping people whom they intend to rob, instead of savagely clubbing them into unconsciousness.

Next comes another class of tools; rope-ladders, or wire rope with iron or wooden foot-rests, or pieces of wire bent into large rings at one end, and connected like a surveyor's chain, so as to offer support for the feet in climbing. They are always admirably made, fold up into a small compass, and can often be carried in the coat-pocket. The end intended to be attached to the window-sill is supplied with iron hooks. Some are capable of being thrown up by hand without making any unusual noise, while others are attached by hand from within a building when it is necessary to provide means of escape. In all cases a slight jerk from the ground releases the hooks, and the ladder falls. When the ladder can be attached from the ground, one operator mounts to the window while his “pall” stands below to guard against a surprise by the “cops,” as the police are called.

It is generally supposed that iron or wooden shutters are proof against any illegal intrusion ; but while they present some obstacles, they afford the burglar a requisite opportunity of developing the scientific phase of his business, The nail and bolt-heads on the outside of a shutter indicate pretty clearly the exact location of the catches on the other side. Where the shutters are of wood, such as are used on basement windows, the burglar takes a long thin knife, not unlike a paint or putty knife, and presses it into the slight crevice by the catch. The blade is so pliable, that on striking a portion of the bevel, or the “rise” on the sill, it bends upward. Then by moving it carefully from right to left the catch will be detected, and but little force is required to lift or push it on one side. With iron shutters the brace and bit are brought into play, and a hole drilled, almost noiselessly, in a few minutes. Then a wire is introduced, when by cautious feeling the bar is struck, and a little wrist-power will throw on end out of its “home.” The catch on the window-sash is sprung in a manner similar to that on the shutter, except that the blade of a small penknife will frequently press the arm out of place.

Having overcome the difficulties of effecting an entrance, the first duty of the burglar is to discover if there are persons sleeping in the room. Should there be such, and should the bed be so placed that the burglar could not operate without awakening the sleepers, the anaesthetics are introduced. A small piece of sponge soaked with chloroform or ether is suspended by a a string from a cane or other stick. This the cautious operator swings about from his perch by the window, if there is no open door or window opposite to create an outward draft. A little experience will enable him to judge when the victims are sufficiently under the influence of the valuable assistant to permit him to search after “swag” or plunder. In passing from an entry into a room, burglars practically expose another human delusion. It is customary with the travelling public, on retiring in their hotel room, to turn the key of the door so that the limb is as nearly as possible above the hole. With this they feel assured that no one can enter, because no strange key can be inserted while the regular one is in, and the latter can not be pushed out from the other side because of the position of the limb. Burglars find the same precautions taken in private residences as well as hotels, and laugh at the delusions of a nervous public. They take the nippers, Fig. 21, insert them in the keyhole, seize the end of the key with the grooved points, and slowly twist it around until the bolt is forced back. Thus the door is unlocked, from the entry or another room, with its own key. Articles that attract the eye are stolen, the thief passes out and relocks the door, thankful for the assistance rendered by the victim through leaving the key in its place.

In some modern hotels the locks of the rooms are double, and have separate keyholes; one opens and locks only from the outside, the other locks only from the inside, the same key of course serves for both.This is an improvement which deserves imitation, as it removes the principal chance burglars possess of robbing hotel guests during the night.We hope that none of our readers will mistake the above communication as instructions in burglary; this class of men do not need it, but honest people need to be instructed as to the dangers they are exposed to, and we trust that our information will enable them to be better on their guard against the very disagreeable surprise of being robbed, and perhaps worse than that.

~ The Manufacturer and Builder, May 1874 issue, New York

#theory #burglar #thieves' tools #how to steal #open lock

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takaraphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

Three Crows and a Goat

Fandom: Shadow and Bone / Grishaverse

Tags: m/m, character introspect, kind of fluff, jealousy, Asexual Kaz

Main Pairing: Kaz/Jesper

Summary: Kaz Brekker wasn't an emotional man, at least not when it came to expressing his emotions. He rather showed it. Like by getting his partner an Emotional Support Goat.

Links: On AO3 / On FFNet

Kaz Brekker wouldn't consider himself a emotional man. That wasn't to say he didn't have emotions; he simply preferred not to broadcast them, or to say them out loud. He was a controlled man, a man who always had control – over himself, his emotions, any situation at hand.

He had been informed that while that made him brilliant at his job, it made him questionable at best as a romantic partner. He wasn't one for physical signs of affection either. Human touch came... hard to him. Very rarely and only with those he truly trusted and loved. So any touch at all was already a huge sign of his affections. Still, when his eyes would wander and he saw other couples, hanging all over each other, constantly touching. It made his skin crawl. And it on occasion woke a strange sense of guilt – not an emotion Kaz experienced too often.

His partner didn't mind. He knew Kaz, knew who Kaz was – and that was who Jesper loved. The whole package, all of it, all of him. Baggage, quirks, issues and all. They had found their own ways of handling some things; Kaz' dislike of touch extended to a sexual level. It wasn't something he desired, even though he was close to Jesper, close enough to touch him on occasions, in reassurance, gently. Not sexually. For long, he had thought those two were linked, the same; he disliked touch, so of course did the thought of touching someone intimately not sit right with him. It was only after he had... fallen in love, that he had come to realize that these two things were not entirely the same, because even when he felt the urge to touch Jesper, it was never in such a manner.

And even that, Jesper was okay with. He'd had such a soft look on his face when he had assured Kaz of that. Yet Kaz knew Jesper was a sexual creature, he was a physical person. And so they had come to an agreement, regarding that. As long as it was purely sex – no emotion, no repeats, no personal details exchanged – Jesper was free to lay with whoever he liked.

On occasion, very rare occasions, Kaz found himself doubtful. Doubtful whether this was enough for Jesper. Because Jesper was not like Kaz – he was an emotional person. He was expressive in his emotions. Affectionate. Perhaps not in the traditional sense either, but still.

All of these factors culminated in Kaz Brekker, feared and respected throughout all of Ketterdam, carrying a fluffy baby goat through the streets. If any of his enemies could see him now-

He tried to carry the fluffy baby goat with as much dignity as he could, but there was very little dignity in carrying a fluffy baby goat. The only thing that kept him going was knowing what the goat was for. He knew both Jesper and Inej had thrown him suspicious and surprised looks when he had volunteered to get the goat; that was a job far beneath Kaz Brekker. There was a reason.

Because Kaz was not too good at showing his emotions. And because Jesper was very expressive in showing what he was feeling at all times. And because Kaz knew what the goat was for.

/break\

On the train, seeing Jesper just completely lose it and have a meltdown, Kaz knew most other partners would have gone over there to comfort him personally, hold him close in a tight, soothing embrace. Kiss him, hold him, make him feel safe. Kaz knew how to do the last of those and on occasions the first two, but this was different. This was on a different level.

"I need you to calm down. Hug the goat, shut the hell up!"

At first, Jesper looked startled. Him and Inej had both suspected the goat to be bait, to be a sacrifice if push came to shove. With furrowed brows did Jesper pick up the goat and gently caress it before hugging it tightly. Kaz could hear him whisper a startled so soft before he wrapped himself around the small furred creature. Fully and completely wrapped around the goat.

Kaz sat stiff, watching with wary eyes. Watching the gentle touch as Jesper caressed the fur, buried his face in the goat's neck, hugging it with both arms. The longer he hugged the goat, the more he calmed down. Physical contact soothed him. This comforted him. And Kaz knew that. He also knew he wouldn't be comfortable trading places with the goat, being hugged with so much intensity, two arms wound tightly, face buried in a neck, full body contact. The thought was overwhelming.

And so Kaz Brekker had gone and organized a goat. A small, soft goat. The one the woman he had gotten it from had assured him was the cutest of the goats. So Jesper would have something, something soft and warm and reassuring. Something to hug.

Perhaps Kaz was not the typical kind of partner, perhaps he couldn't offer Jesper the same things others could. But he was Kaz Brekker and he knew how to make the things he could do count.

The smirk spreading over his lips was pleased and satisfied as he watched his partner calm down enough to get up and get his gun out and shoot with pure, raw precision at any danger threatening them from the outside.

/break\

Kaz ran his hands over his cane. Over the mended parts. It was a love-language in itself, the way Jesper had fixed the cane. Theirs was a subtle way of showing each other their affection, but that did not make it any less strong. Like his hands, his eyes wandered. They were on a ship, about to leave for Ketterdam again. Return home. This mission had been a huge failure all around. Perhaps not a full failure, considering they had seen the 'saint' with their own eyes. Had seen the Sun Summoner, the light, the power, the... miracle. Kaz was not a believer, yet did religion not stop being religion when it was physical and graspable? The girl sitting opposite him was not some fabled saint in some religious tomb to be prayed at. She was no Sun Summoner or Sankta Alina, she was a lost girl. She was a lost girl, a scared girl, as he had seen so many before in his life.

The supposed saint sat between her friend and Inej. Inej, who had barely been able to tear her eyes off Alina since they had met her. There was awe and wonder in Inej's eyes, in a way Kaz had never seen before. Even as she was speaking with Jesper, she could hardly look away from Alina.

"The friends we made along the way."

Kaz quirked an eyebrow at that, looking more intensely at Mal and Alina. They truly expected to keep those two, didn't they? No. Lost girl or not, Kaz wasn't in the habit of keep every stray they met. Though, admittedly, he did invest in one of a kind and there was probably nothing more unique than the Sun Summoner herself. It would make Inej happy, that was for sure.

"I'm talking about Milo," clarified Jesper indignantly when Alina looked to be getting a big head.

"Who's Milo?" wanted Mal to know, confusion all over his face.

It was Inej who rolled her eyes, albeit affectionately. "No one you need to concern yourselves with."

That only made Jesper look even more offended. The goat was supposed to serve one purpose; get Jesper through the train ride safely. Instead, he had... grown attached to the animal. Named it. Bonded with it. Kept bringing it up. Kaz Brekker was not a jealous person in nature – he knew what was his and he made sure they were always clear in what that meant. Yet, inexplicably so, he felt jealous of a goat. A ridiculous motion that he most definitely could not allow anyone to know about. What was, perhaps, even more ridiculous was what followed.

"Mister Brekker. Your... special delivery, sir."

Kaz arched an eyebrow and turned toward the voice. "About time. The ship is about to leave."

He put as much displeasure into his words as possible, though he still took the bag of coins from his belt and handed it over to the young woman, in exchange for... a rope. Jesper next to him gasped m a high-pitched manner as he turned and saw what was on the other end of the rope.

"Milo!" Jesper's voice was loud, drawing unwanted attention and earning a pointed glare from Kaz, causing him to immediately drop his voice. "But how—Where-Why? I thought our funds were dwindled, why would you-?"

As he spoke, or rather rambled in broken half-sentences, he picked up the goat, hugging it close and kissing its head. Kaz made a face at that, though subtly so. Though he may not understand why Jesper felt that way about this creature, he knew the goat was making him happy. Otherwise, Jesper would not have kept bringing it up all the time.

"It seemed like a worthy investment," dismissed Kaz shortly.

Inej was hiding a smile and... Mal made a loud sound. "The goat! The goat that helped me escape!"

He lunged forward and started petting the goat too, much to everyone's surprise. "You too? How?"

"There, in that necklace around its neck, was a bullet. I used it to break my chains. To escape. A good boy, aren't you? Such a good boy!" Mal laughed, ruffling the goat's fur.

"His name is Milo and he is the best boy," agreed Jesper eagerly, petting Milo's flank.

"Milo, is it? Pretty boy," Mal was nearly cooing at that. "How do you know him?"

As Jesper launched into a retelling of how they had first crossed the fold, the other three were left simply staring at them. At least Kaz wasn't the only one watching them in mild disturbance. When Kaz turned a little, Alina had taken a seat next to him.

"You two are a very... different couple," whispered Alina curiously.

"I doubt that is any of your business," stated Kaz just a little coldly.

He wasn't one for chitchat either. Though he had to admit, he was mildly impressed that she had picked up on it. Most people who met Kaz and Jesper didn't realize what they were, that they were partners beyond their work. Perhaps there was a potential to Alina, even beyond being a Sun Summoner. She could be useful. Not that he was making any definite decisions, though he had to admit that it would bring Inej joy. And, looking at Jesper and Mal bonding over a goat, all Kaz saw was yet another argument Jesper and Inej would use to try and convince him to keep Mal and Alina.

"This is very thoughtful of you," continued Alina, not minding him, the smallest smile on her lips.

Kaz opted to ignore her. Perhaps then she would go away. Or stop irritating him. She surely seemed to fit in with them, he mused as he looked back toward Jesper, Mal and the goat.

"Oh. Oh, I'll go and find him something to eat," suggested Mal eagerly. "He deserves it."

Jesper handed the rope over to Mal and let the other lead Milo away. Instead, he turned toward Kaz, basically beaming at him. That expression surely was worth the money spent. Kaz swallowed down the smile fighting its way up onto his own lips. No such things, certainly not in public. Instead, he slowly reached out and rested his hand on Jesper's, holding it gently. If possible, the smile on Jesper's lips brightened even more.

~*~ The End ~*~

#Fanfiction #Kaz x Jesper #Kesper #Kazper #Shadow and Bone #Kaz Brekker #Jesper Fahey #Inej Ghafa #Milo the Goat #Mal Oretsev #Alina Starkov #Ace Kaz #Character Study #SaB Spoilers

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miniature-space-hamster · 3 years ago

Text

Merweek Day Five: We Are Family

Karina Shepard is finally released from the hospital after the battle of London, and Kaidan brings her to his family home in Vancouver, where she meets his parents for the first time.

“Kaidan…” Shepard’s eyes focusing on the blur of pine that seemed to stretch endlessly from her view in the skycar, her voice sounded distant. A growing tightness filled her chest. “Are your parents going to like me?” She paused, already sounding somewhat defeated, resisting the urge to start picking at newly painted nails. She brought a finger to her mouth, seconds from chewing before stopping herself. She needed something to distract her from their destination. There was only about fifteen minutes left until they were at Kaidan’s family home.

Without breaking eye contact from the road, Kaidan gave her a crooked smile and raised eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t they, Karina?” She always seemed to surprise him with questions like this. She could face a Reaper on foot without flinching, but the thought of meeting his mother was what she worried about.

Karina wasn’t sure where to start, she sighed sharply before speaking but the noise got lost in the hum of the engines. “I mean… we were sleeping together when I was still your CO, for starters. We stole the Normandy and committed treason. Not to mention I’m the reason you got tangled with Cerberus…” She took a breath, but it didn’t feel deep enough. “How much do they even know?”

“I told my mother we were together after our date at Apollo’s.” He kept his words plain, clearly code for they didn’t know anything prior. At least no more than the average civilian.

Karina nodded, remembering Apollo’s with a slight smile threatening at the corner of tightly pulled lips. It was the closest they’ve ever gotten to normalcy during the war. A taste, albeit brief, of what was to come after the Reaper’s defeat. Kaidan was so awkward and vulnerable as he fumbled through his words. It was cute.

She finally ripped her gaze from the scenery, turning to Kaidan. “Speaking of Apollo’s, depending on how this goes I might need another sanity check.” There was a slight laugh at the end of her words, but it was strained. She tapped the door with her nails, desperately in search of stimuli to ease her anxiety. “I haven’t done anything family related in over a decade.”

Kaidan drove with one hand, reaching out for her thigh with the other and squeezed. Karina took his hand into hers before she even realized it. She focused on the strong, calloused fingers interlocked with her own. She let her free hand trace the familiar shape of his knuckles.

Kaidan knew this was going to be hard for her. She no longer had a family to call her own after Mindoir. Though he knew nothing could replace that, he wanted to at least make her feel at home with his own family.

They pulled into a driveway, past the forest of dense pine that finally brought the distant orchard into view. This was the first time he’s been home since the war. Kaidan was barely holding back a smile as he finally turned to Karina. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry. It’ll just be for the weekend.”

He hopped out of the car and made his way to Karina’s side, helping her out and grabbing her cane from the back seat, hesitating for a moment before considering getting the wheelchair in the trunk. “Are you good to walk?”

Karina gave him a slight nod, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Kaidan sighed quietly, knowing that didn’t answer his question. She always said she was fine, regardless of whether it was true or not. He looked her up and down, trying to assess the situation himself before nodding and grabbing the cane.

The doctors didn’t expect her to be able to walk so soon after her injuries, and all the surgeries that followed the battle at London. She still struggled though. At times it was like her legs had forgotten how to keep her up. But she was out of the hospital now, and that on its own felt like a victory

Kaidan offered Karina his arm, which she took with her free hand in equal parts comfort and support. She took a shaky breath when Kaidan rang the doorbell. The chime echoed through the house as she heard frantic steps shuffling towards the door.

They were greeted by a small, silver haired woman who barely made it to Karina’s chest. Her eyes lit up behind thick, black frames when she saw Kaidan. He had to lean over as she smiled and pulled him into a tight hug. It was clear Kaidan got his eyes and smile from his mother. She patted his back several times before she pulled away and turned towards Karina.

“It’s so good to finally meet you.” She pulled Karina in for a hug just as she did for Kaidan, without warning, as if she’d known her for years. Karina felt her muscles tensing up, not expecting such sudden contact. She could count on one Turian hand how many people hug her like this. Several moments passed until she returned the embrace with unsure arms. His mother soon after released, much to Karina’s relief. “Hope the trip wasn’t too bad.”

“We didn’t have any trouble.” Kaidan cut in, noticing that Karina looked more than a little overwhelmed. He took half a step in her direction, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Karina leaned against him, desperately hoping the attention could be shifted away from her.

It was then Karina saw movement from the hallway headed in their direction. A white haired man who looked almost exactly like Kaidan stepped out.

He walked with such purpose, though it was clear he walked on old injuries that never quite healed right. Despite this, he still carried the posture of someone who served. Karina felt her own posture stiffen reflexively, suddenly feeling like she was a new recruit awaiting inspection all over again. The man stayed silent as he approached, not breaking eye contact.

Kaidan pulled his father in for a hug, neither saying a word. Kaidan’s arms shook slightly. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever see his father again after the reaper war when he was declared missing.

Kaidan retracted before making introductions. “Dad, this is Karina.”

She received a firm handshake from the man. His posture was stiff and awkward as he extended his hand. He clearly didn’t know how to address her, but the feeling was mutual.

Introductions felt like a blur that Karina wasn’t fully present for. Her mind kept drifting off before being pulled back by key words in the conversation. She was never good with small talk, and something about her surroundings kept bringing her mind back to Mindoir, and her own parents.

Luckily, Kaidan and his mother carried the conversation with relative ease. She was updating him about their family. A cousin, as far as Karina could tell. She struggled to keep up with the names.

Karina continued to sip on the wine presented in silence, letting the flavor keep her anchored in the moment. It was a dry red wine, but she couldn’t figure out what kind and felt too awkward to interrupt and ask.

And then the one question she was dreading hit like a bullet to the chest.

“So how’s your family doing, Karina?”

It was a simple enough question, from a well meaning woman who didn’t want to exclude company from conversation, but it required a far more complex answer.

She swallowed hard as she looked over to Kaidan, who looked a shade paler than he did before as he met her gaze. He was seconds from trying to intercept the conversation, before Karina put a hand on his. She knew she’d have to talk about it eventually.

“Oh, I don’t have any family.” It was simple enough, and shut the conversation down before it got too deep. She wasn’t prepared to drop her baggage on a family she hadn’t even gotten the chance to fully know yet.

Karina thought she should feel her pulse rising in her throat by now, but the sensation didn’t come. The ache was a dull one, faded by a decade's time. She quietly pushed the feeling down, shifting the collar of her turtleneck sweater. She silently cleared her throat before changing the subject.

“This wine is lovely. Did it come from this orchard?”

Karina found herself in Kaidan’s childhood bed as the night came to a close, both drained from the combination of wine and late night conversation, but neither could find sleep quite yet. Karina looked around the room decorated in hockey sticks and trophies. It looked like it hadn’t been touched since Kaidan joined the Alliance.

Kaidan caressed her cheek with delicate precision, kissing her temple before speaking. “How’re you feeling? Still need that sanity check?”

Karina leaned against the man at her side, letting her head fall against his shoulder. “Oddly enough, I’m feeling okay.” She paused for a moment, fighting the exhaustion to get the words out. “It’s weird though.”

Kaidan leaned his head against hers. The arm wrapped around her tightening with concern. “How so?”

She sighed. “Just thinking about my own family, I guess. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to.”

He squeezed her shoulder as he kissed the crown of her head, “Time has a way of doing that, huh?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist in response, holding back a yawn. “It’s like I’m almost missing the feeling of loss, because at least there was something there. Y’know?”

Kaidan nodded thoughtfully before planting another kiss, this time more tender as it barely grazed her scalp. “It wasn’t the family you were born with, but I think you managed to find your own family in the time since. You have the old Normandy crew.”

Karina nodded as she began to recline more on the bed, feeling the exhaustion finally begin to overcome her. Kaidan matched her pace, finding their usual position on an unfamiliar bed. Karina let her legs graze his own before they tangled themselves into one another.

“Maybe one day you’ll feel that way here?” Kaidan offered with a low voice, looking at the ceiling as he held Karina close to his side.

Karina pulled herself in closer, until their bodies were flush and her head rested on his chest, nuzzling before finding her usual spot. “I think I’d like that.”

#merweek2021 #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #shenko #fshenko #kaidan alenko #commander shepard #Karina Shepard

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mizunetzu · 4 years ago

Note

Plz make a prat 2 to its your fault!!! It was SO GOOD!!

LMAO I WASNT GONNA BUT I BROKE 100 FOLLOWERS PURELY BC THAT FIC SO-

——————

Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault (pt. 2)

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

part one can be found here! , and if the link is broken, check my pinned masterlist!

——————

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) carried over to Karasuno, in his second year of high school.

He was doing great. He joined the writing club, he did extra well in his English classes, and even made acquaintances who didn’t force them to learn a sport for the rest of their life’s.

He doesn’t think he’d call them “friends” though. They weren’t as close as he was to his ‘teammates’. Or Kenma. Or Kuroo.

But then again, his relationship with Kuroo wasn’t real. And (y/n) will forever hate him for that. He’ll hate his guts for as long as he lives, for wasting his time and giving up his passion just because he couldn’t suck it up to tell him he didn’t want to be friends anymore.

“(L/n)-San, you’re late.”

A cold sweat broke out on (y/n). He looked up at his history teacher, with a nervous smile. He didn’t care for that class as much as the others, so it’s hard to keep up when you aren’t interested.

“(L/n), this is your third offense. I’m going to have to send you to detention. Take your seat and see me after class.”

“Yes sensei...”

He tiptoed to his seat and slid into his chair, with his head down. It was his first detention. He wasn’t going to lie when he said he was nervous.

————-

The detention wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. When he walked in, the teacher supervising was asleep on his desk, and there were only about 4-5 second years in there.

None really stood out, minus the one sitting in the corner, with his feet up, spinning a volleyball in between his hands. He had hair that reminded him of that bitch Kuroo, except it was styled like that on purpose, and there was a streak of blond straight in the middle.

The stranger seemed to catch his disgusted face, and said “Oi-you got a problem, pretty boy?”

(Y/n) wiped the look off his face and leaned a against the wall, not wanting to sit down. He stood there for about 5 minutes, before he heard the ever so familiar sound of a volleyball being smacked. Absentmindedly, he turned towards the sound, and brought his hands up to receive the ball. It’s the first thing they drill into your mind in that prison called Nekoma, so could you really blame him?

The thing he didn’t expect, was the ball to actually hit his hands. He thought the sound was in his head, or the boy just smacked the ball in his hands, but he didn’t think that he threw the damn ball at him. The ball effortlessly bounced off his arms and flew back into the hands of the boy, who had a shocked, excited, expression.

“You play volleyball?!” The boy jumped out of his seat and ran up to him. He was short, but then again, (y/n) wasn’t that tall to begin with.

“I...don’t...I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit! That was a perfect receive! I’ve seen guys on my team who don’t have a receive as good as that!”

Team? He thought there would be no ‘team’. This is the one school with that ‘fallen crows’ thing, right?

The boy was jumping up and down, praising his receive and making weird sound effects. He’s never really been praised on his receive before. It was heartwarming.

“-and you gotta join my team!”

“Hell no. I don’t play volleyball anymore. I’m done with it.” The words came out like an automated response. The boy tilted his head to the side.

“Why not? Your one of those new kids right? I don’t think I’ve seen you last year.”

“I don’t care much to talk about it” (y/n) chuckled and sat down. The boy sat down next to him, to his disappointment.

“I’m Nishinoya Yuu. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” (Y/n) said nothing more, mainly because he was used to going by his first name at Nekoma.

“(Y/n)? Just (y/n)? Is that your first name or your last orrrr-“

“First,” (y/n) drummed his fingers on the desk. “I don’t like formalities when it comes to spor-“

That response came out automatically aswell. It’s something Kenma said so much, that he started doing it aswell. They weren’t even doing sports. They’re in detention for gods sake.

“Nice to meet you man!” Nishinoya gave him a pat on the back. (Y/n) flinched a bit. Kenma wasn’t touchy at all, and Kuroo avoided as much contact with him as possible. Yet this...stranger was talking to him like he was the last person on earth. He was the center of attention right now. And he loved that feeling.

Are all countryside people this nice? Back in Tokyo, or at least with Kenma and Kuroo, they weren’t so...touchy. And the team wasn’t touchy as well. But maybe this is different. Maybe...

“You have to at least VISIT the practice! I won’t force you to join! But this is my last day of detention before I finally return and it would be cool if I got another player in! Not that I’m assuming you’ll want to play instantly but-“

“I’ll do it.”

“Really!?”

He was just going to watch. He wanted to see how different the Miyagi players were compared to Tokyo. That’s all. After that he’s going to leave. No more volleyball.

————

Nishinoya and (y/n) became good friends during the remainder of the detention. He told (y/n) he was a libero, and asked what his old position was. He lied and said he was a libero too. There was really no reason to lie, but he didn’t want to say he was a setter either.

On their way to the gym, (y/n) could practically feel how excited Nishinoya was. It was something (y/n) could never understand. They neared the entrance to the gym, when Nishinoya suddenly sprinted inside. A ball hurdled towards him, and he returned in the direction it came from, with little to no effort.

(Y/n) jogged in after him. “Noya! Warn me when you start sprinting damnit! you scared me!” A boy with bright orange hair, also pretty short, stared at Nishinoya with wide eyes.

“He’s...he’s shorter than me!”

“Huh? Hey, what did you just say?!” The libero got ready to pounce on the other short boy when he choked out a panicked “s-sorry!”

They started going back and forth on stuff

(y/n) wasn’t paying attention to, when 3 other people walked into the gym.

“Oi! Noya-San!”

“Ryu!”

The unknown people started greeting Nishinoya, while (y/n) stood awkwardly to the side.

“Oh! Let me introduce you.” Noya gestured towards (y/n), who stiffened once all eyes landed on him. My name is (y/n), uh-just (y/n). I don’t like formalities when it comes to sports.”

“Yeah! He said he wanted to watch-“

“Actually I want to join.”

It was something (y/n) said on impulse, after looking at everyone’s friendly attitude. They looked at (y/n), even though he was a total stranger, like he was a part of the family. He couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth. Nishinoya went silent, along with everyone in the room. A smile grew on Noyas face as he shook (y/n’s) shoulders giddily.

“That’s great! What position are you going to play?” The black haired dude with tan skin said, walking up to (y/n) and patting him on the back. Again, with everyone’s kindness. It’s so weird.

“Set-“

His throat closed in as if it told him he wasn’t supposed to say that. He felt the piercing stare of a boy with black hair and blue eyes. He was most likely a setter. He also looked at the kind smile of the man with silver hair, but how his eyes betrayed his kind look. They looked sad, and droplet of sweat rolled down his cheek. He was probably a setter, too. (Y/n) closed his mouth, then opened it again.

“...Libero. I want to play libero with Noya, if that’s alright.”

(Y/n) hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision. Not of signing up as a libero, his defense was pretty strong and on par with Noyas. He just hoped he wouldn’t regret joining the volleyball team he sought to never set foot on.

But everyone’s warm, friendly smiles made him forget about his inner turmoil, even temporarily.

He’d guess he’d have to quit the writing club, then.

————

“Rolllllling thunnnnnder!”

Noya dove for the ball and tumbled away, before standing up, looking proud of himself.

Tanaka and (y/n) started laughing hysterically, while Suga awkwardly mused out a “N-nice receive..”

“Why did he yell that out?” Kageyama looked just as dumbfounded as Sugawara, while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stifled their laughter. “Pfft-what was that?”

“Kageyama! Tsukishima! Yamaguchi! I’m going to lecture you all! Crouch down! I mean-sit down!”

That just made (y/n) laugh even harder. He forgot why he hated volleyball so much, his stamina built to the point he wasn’t dying when he ran laps, and moments like these made him feel like he was on top of the world. He had a family. A new start. Things were going great. Nothing could ever-

“Everyone! I want you to gather around!” Takeda-Sensei burst through the gym doors, making everyone turn their heads. He started talking about some “golden week training camp” and how they needed to practice. (Y/n) wasn’t really paying attention, choosing to jokingly poke Tanakas waist with a “rollingu tsandaa~!!” Until-

“-and for the last day of golden week, I’ve arranged a practice match!”

Tanaka shooed away (y/n’s) hands and cheered. “Whooah! Who’s our opponent?”

“A venerated school in Tokyo, Nekoma high school.”

(Y/n’s) heart stopped. Every moment of his childhood he wasted cane flooding back just as he started to feel content with his new high school life. His eyes widened dramatically and his mouth hung open a tad. Sugawara seemed to notice, and gave him a concerned look as everyone was buzzing about the practice match.

“You okay?” No response.

“(Y/n?)” no response.

(Y/n) felt the ground swirling under his feet. It suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough air in the gym and the knee pads squeezed the everliving hell out of his legs.

“(Y/n)!” All eyes were on him. He was on the ground, sitting down and starring blankly at Takeda-sensei, while everyone silently stared back at (y/n).

This situation felt familiar.

————

The training camp flew by in a flash. It was one or two day before the dreaded match with Nekoma, and they were sprinting around the street to warmup. However Hinata, being Hinata, ran too far and unknowningly, to a place he didn’t recognize.

“Did I get lost?” His thoughts were intruded when he saw a boy, with bleach blond hair, sitting on the curb playing on his phone.

‘A bright red jersey. You don’t see much of those around here.’ Hinata thought.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Hinata ran up to the boy, who was obviously startled by Hinatas sudden exclamation. He looked from his phone, to Hinata, then to the ground.

“Um...I’m lost...”

“Eh? You’re from out of town?” Hinata cocked his head to the side, as the boy with the blond hair turned back to his phone.

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence, with Hinata admiring the game the boy was playing on his phone, when he suddenly jumped up, squealing.

“Are you a volleyball player?! Those are volleyball shoes!”

“Oh...yeah...”

The boy put his phone down and looked at him though his mop of hair. Hinata jumped up and down excitedly.

“I’m in a volleyball club too. I’m Hinata Shoyo!”

Another silence engulfed them, before the boy spoke up. “Kozume...”

“Kozume? That’s you name?”

The boy, ‘Kozume’, looked down at his bag. He then drew his gaze back up, mumbling out a “Kenma” before he looked back down.

“So your Kenma, Huh? Are you in high school?”

“Yeah...I’m a second year.”

Hinata stiffened and straighted his posture rigidly. “Crap! Your older than me! P-pardon me!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t really like formalities when it comes to sports.”

That statement made Hinatas shoulders relax, now sporting an odd look on his face. Kenma noticed his gaze, but said nothing. The thing he said now, was exactly what (Y/n) always said. When he introduced himself when he joined, when he introduced himself to Asahi who joined soon after, and to everyone whom he didn’t know beforehand when in the gym. It was like his catch phase.

“You...remind me of one of my teammates. Uh-! Not exactly! He’s more um...rowdy? B-But you said something he always says and-“

Kenma perked up, whipping his head to Hinata with questioning eyes. He, however, noticed his abrupt nature, and looked back down, trying to focus on his phone.

“Um...what position do you play?”

“Setter.”

“Ehhh?! Really? Your waaay different than our setter! our setter is a litt-“

“Does your setter have (H/c) hair? Or is he kind of clingy who likes video games?”

Hinata looked at him with a confused expression. Kenma looked at Hinata with prying eyes that almost seemed desperate. He was clutching his phone in his hands a little too tightly, to the point his knuckles turned white.

After taking Hinatas silence for a ‘no’ he turned his attention back to his phone, with pursed lips and a “...nevermind...”

The conversation they had was pretty tame afterwards, Hinata complaining about how scary his setter is or how it’s odd that he’s short for a middle blocker.

(Y/n) came jogging down the street Hinata took, along with Sugawara trailing behind him. Once (y/n) took sight of the familiar orange tuft of hair, he smiled. However, once he was about to call out his name, he heard a voice and a name he hasn’t heard in forever.

“Kenma!”

(Y/n) looked past Hinata to see a boy with blond hair. It wasn’t the Kenma he knew, his Kenma has black hair, but it could’ve easily been bleached. He looked a little further and locked eyes with someone he sought to destroy from his mind.

Kuroo.

(Y/n) stood there, frozen to his core, before a harsh glare graced the cheery persona he sought to uphold. Kenma stood up and waved a goodbye to his new friend, before jogging up to Kuroo. Kuroo broke into a cold sweat, shoving his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes guiltily.

Sugawara rounded the corner, before his eyes landed on Hinata and (y/n).

“Ah! Hinata!”

Hinata flinched and turned around to see Sugawara, and (y/n), who was clenching his fists with a disgusted look on his face.

“Man, we were looking all over-“

“Who were you talking you, Hinata?”

(Y/n’s) words dripped with venom. He wasn’t one to get angry, but he grew to resent Nekoma as a whole. Not just Kuroo. He hated Nekoma almost as much as he used to hate sports.

“Uh-I made a friend-he says he plays volleyball too-“

“No shit.”

(Y/n) scoffed and walked away, presumably to go back to where everyone was. Suga and Hinata stood there awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know...we should go back, though.”

The two boys trailed behind (y/n), deciding that he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

——————

Pt 3??? Anyone??? Lmaooo

#hq x male reader #hq fics #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #hq kuroo #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo angst

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

Note

can we see damianette with v?

(Let me just say that I absolutely LOVE this concept!! I could write a whole ficlet on this one too! anyway, I hope you like the snippet as much as I did.)

Darkness. That was all Marinette had ever known. In fact, it was all a good portion of the world had ever known, and it was thanks to this little thing called Soulmates.

A long time ago, the gods decided that humans had become blind to the true purpose of love and romance. So, to remind them of this, they cursed the world with literal blindness, and the only way to nullify this curse was to touch your soulmate directly. Then, the gift of sight would be restored to both parties, and they would finally be able to see for the first time.

At first, Marinette was extremely excited to find her soulmate. After all, who wouldn’t be? The life of the seeing sounded wonderful, especially when her Maman and Papa would tell her stories of the sea and the stars. And having the love of your life, the person you’re going to be with forever, be the first thing you truly see? That sounded incredibly romantic, and she couldn’t wait to experience it.

As the years passed, though, and more people around her found their soulmate, the excitement that had been bubbling inside her began to fade, and a quiet resignation took its place. If she hadn’t found her soulmate yet, that meant she probably wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones who found their soulmate early. Therefore, she needed to learn to be patient, instead of tearing herself apart with anticipation.

This revelation led to Marinette exploring her capabilities and becoming affiliated with her blindness as best she could. She could already get around fine, but she wanted to get around better than fine. She wanted to get around so well on her own that people forgot she was blind altogether. Then, perhaps, she would be able to forget too. Or at least forget that everyone but her could see.

She had just started being able to walk without using her cane when she received a pair of strange, magical earrings. The discovery was definitely a shock, but the thought of being able to push herself to the absolute limit as a superhero intrigued her. So, she accepted the earrings and became Ladybug, savior of Paris.

Imagine her surprise when she found out that her partner was also blind. He didn’t move around as easily as she did, but their gadgets helped them find their way well enough to fight. For example, her yo-yos would use beeping sequences to tell her when she was near something, while Chat Noir used his staff as a makeshift cane, and the akumas were normally loud enough that they didn’t have to guess their locations.

Alya joined their school around the same time that Marinette became Ladybug, and Marinette was absolutely delighted to meet her. Not only because the new student gave Nino his sight, but also because she was able to describe the colors to Marinette in a way that she could understand. Her parents had tried to tell her about the colors before and how beautiful they were, but in the end, the descriptions always depended on sight.

Alya, however, described them with feelings.

“Blue,” she would say, “is like dipping your hand into the pool. It’s cool and calm and sometimes sad, but it’s beautiful. It’s the color of the sky and the sea and your eyes.”

“Red is the color of heat, of anger, of blood.”

“Yellow is the color of sunshine on your skin and happiness and things that make you smile.”

“Green is the color of envy or disgust, but it’s also the color of summer’s grass.”

“Black is the color of darkness, the same thing you see now.”

Now that Marinette had at least somewhat of a shaky grasp on what colors were like, she wasn’t nearly as annoyed when Mlle Bustier decided to take the class to an art gallery during their field trip to Gotham. It was still an inconsiderate thing to do, but she had Alya to guide her if necessary and had heard about a section of the gallery that was made specifically for blind people. So she had hope that the visit wouldn’t be as awful as it sounded.

“Remember class,” her teacher called as she led everyone inside the gallery, “everyone needs to have a safety buddy at all times. Gotham is well known for its villain attacks, so stay together!”

Alya sighed next to her. “It’s not like it’s any different from our akuma attacks. Why all the fuss?”

“Well, the villains here don’t transform back once they’re caught.” Nino pointed out. “It’s kind of like a ton of Hawkmoths running around instead of akumas.”

Marinette nodded in agreement, though none of them were probably looking at her anyway.

“True, but they also have more super heroes here.” Alya argued. “Batman, Red hood, Nightwing, Robin- if a villain attacked us, they’d be surrounded in ten minutes!”

Marinette held back from commenting on that remark, but she knew from personal experience that superheroes had their own lives too. Just because a single villain showed up somewhere didn’t mean that all of the heroes in Gotham would show up at the same time to fight it, or that the villain would be any easier to take down once outnumbered.

She lightly touched Alya’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going to go find that blind section that Mlle Bustier was talking about .”

Alya paused her conversation with Nino to reply, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not! I’ll go tell Mlle Bustier where we’re going, but you can start walking now if you don’t need any help?”

“No, I can manage.” Marinette smiled. Mlle Bustier had passed out a special map of the gallery the night before that had bumps for the walls and statues and braille to tell them which rooms were what. Besides, if she could fight akumas across the Parisian rooftops on a regular basis, she could certainly find her way around an art museum.

The two separated, Alya going right to speak with Bustier, and Marinette going left to find the blind room. She idly tapped her cane on her shoulder as she walked across the hardwood floors, the echoing footsteps and hushed talk of other visitors giving her directions on which way to step and which way to avoid. Some of the voices spoke in different languages, and it caused Marinette to wonder whether the people around her were tourists like herself or locals. Probably a decent mix of both.

When she was sure that she’d found the correct room- there was a sign with braille on it that said “blind section” - she let her cane tap against the floor and began wandering around the room. The pictures inside had bumpy textures for her to run her hands across, and the statues that were open to anyone above the age of eleven were a mix of grainy and smooth, most likely made from different types of rock. It was admittedly strange tracing her hands over things that were supposed to be human bodies, but if it was the only way to observe the master pieces..

A few minutes passed of her dragging her hands over the displays when something strange happened, something that made her pause.

Footsteps and voices had been a consistent background noise from the moment she walked into the gallery, but for some reason, both of those sounds abruptly stopped in the last minute of her being there, as though everyone that had been in the room with her suddenly left. That wasn’t possible, though, because she didn’t hear anyone leave, and she couldn’t fathom why a whole group of strangers would tip-toe out of a room to avoid being detected by her.

Before she could call out to the people who had to be around her, somebody gasped, proving that other people were, in fact, still in the room with her. Then, another person gasped, then three, and someone shrieked.

Now Marinette was panicking. What was going on? Why were they screaming? What did they see that she couldn’t?

Where footsteps had been scarce before, there were now footsteps everywhere, along with more screams. People were running, but from what? She didn’t hear anyone else enter the gallery, nor did she hear a villainous outburst.

Marinette strained her ears to listen for something more, something out of the ordinary that would cause people alarm, but it was hard to hear anything else over the screams. The only other thing she could catch was a strange, hissing sound. They couldn’t be running from that, though, could they? What would be making a hissing sound that had everyone bolting out of the gallery?

“Marinette!”

Alya’s voice nearly made Marinette jump five feet in the air out of fright, but she caught herself and turned towards the direction she assumed her friend was coming from.

“Alya, what’s going on?”

Somebody grabbed her arm, and Alya’s voice spoke up again right next to her. “We need to go. There’s this weird, green gas that’s filling the gallery, and it’s causing people to.. to..”

Alya’s explanation faltered as she let out a snort, which confused Marinette. Didn’t she sound panicked a second ago? Why was she laughing now? This wasn’t a prank, was it? No, Alya would do that..

Another laugh burst from her friend’s lips. Then another. It almost sounded like she was trying to contain it, like she was laughing against her will.

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. What did she say about the gas again? It was causing people to do something? What if it was causing them to laugh?

“A-Alya?” Marinette said, trying to remain calm as she grabbed Alya’s shoulders. If the gas was causing people to laugh, does that mean she’s inhaled it already? Was the effect going to be permanent? Was it going to be fatal? Why would someone release that type of gas into an art gallery?

“Mari-Marine-” Alya wiggled out of Marinette’s grasp and began laughing harder. Marinette tried to grab her again, but her friend fell to the floor.

“Alya!” Marinette cried, kneeling down next to her. The girl was writhing on the floor now, cackling like she’d gone mad.

“G-Get- you need- you need to- need to go-” She said through laughs, but that was all she said. After that, Alya fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and Marinette was left panicking and wondering what she should do. She could try to go get help, but she didn’t know where the gas was coming from. Even if she did, she had no way of knowing who might be waiting for her outside. The gas might be a way to push herself and the other civilians out onto the street.

Marinette stumbled to her feet and took a moment to listen to her surroundings again. She could still hear screams, but they were more towards the back of the gallery, while laughter could be heard towards the front. That meant the gas must have come through the front entrance. Was that the hissing sound she’d heard earlier?

Just as she was about to call out Tikki to give her a visual on the gallery, another sound reached her ears. This time it was a clicking, similar to that of metal being hooked onto something, and it came from above her. Was someone on the ceiling? What would they be doing up there? How would they get up there in the first place?

A whizzing sound followed the click, and Marinette tensed as she listened to it grow closer. Something or someone was coming towards her. Was it the villain who spread the gas? Why didn’t she hear it move on the ceiling beforehand? Was she going to have to defend herself and Alya as a civilian?

A pair of boots hit the hardwood floor, and Marinette shifted into a fighting stance, holding her cane up like a sword. If she had to go, she didn’t plan on going easily. “Who are you?”

“My name is Robin.” The response was quick, almost automatic. “We’re evacuating the premises. I need you to come with me.”

Marinette hesitated. Wasn’t Robin one of the heroes Alya had mentioned? The person in front of her sounded like another teenager. (Then again, being a teenager didn’t stop her from saving Paris on a weekly basis)

A leather glove wrapped around her fore-arm- his hand, she realized -and he pulled her against him.

“Hold on tight.”

Hold on tight? “What do you me-”

Robin clicked a button, and with a sharp tug, they were flying through the air. Marinette let out a yelp, and then she did something that changed her life forever.

She wrapped her hands around his neck.

As soon as she did, a bright flash of light invaded her vision, and suddenly, colors were everywhere. There were light colored walls and dark colored floors- perhaps that was the brown she’d heard about? -and the statues were a mix of light and dark colors, similar to the marble rock that she’d been taught about. And the paintings- oh, the paintings were just bursting with color and life! It all looked positively extraordinary and amazing and-

Robin gasped above her, no doubt from the shock of seeing as well. His hand must have slipped from whatever was pulling them upwards, because in the next moment they were falling back to the ground. (And she could see it! She didn’t have to hear the rush of wind or feel the pit of her stomach rising to know!)

The two hit the ground with a grunt, and Robin swiftly shifted their position to use his body as a shield to protect Marinette from further injuries as they rolled across the floor. This resulted in Marinette landing on top of Robin and Robin rubbing the back of his head with another groan.

“A-Are you okay?” She asked as she pushed herself up to hover over him. That fall didn’t feel too steep, but having extra weight on top of him most certainly would have made the landing worse.

Now that she could actually see the person in front of her with her own eyes, she could tell that he was definitely a superhero. He had an entire costume on, equipped with a cape and everything. She even spotted a utility belt on his waist that appeared to have a hefty amount of gadgets on it.

Robin looked up at her, and though his mask hindered her view of his eyes, the surprise was clear on his face as his eyebrows shot up.

“Who..” He trailed off, his head tilting slightly as he glanced around the room. He was still absorbing the fact that he could finally see, just as she was.

His gaze snapped back to her. “Who are you?”

I could ask you the same question. She thought. After fifteen years of searching, she’d finally found her soulmate, and not only did he live halfway across the world from her, but was also a superhero just like her. What were the odds?

Reality slapped both of them in the face when another scream pierced the air, and the two scrambled to get back to their feet. Soulmates or not, they were still in the middle of a villain attack. They couldn’t get distracted.

People were still laughing hysterically on the floor, but now a strange gas was trailing into the blind section. Marinette knew she should be panicked seeing it, considering what it did to Alya, but another part of her felt giddy, because Alya had also told her that the gas was green. She finally knew what green looked like!

“We have to get out of here.” Robin said. He pulled something off of his utility belt- was that a gun? -and shot it upwards. Marinette’s gaze immediately followed it curiously, and she managed to catch sight of a shiny object latching onto an open hole in the rooftop. It made a clicking sound, reminding her of the sound she’d heard when Robin first swooped into the gallery.

So, that’s how he got in here. She thought to herself.

Robin pulled her against his chest again, clicking the same button he had earlier to start rising to the roof. “No surprises this time, all right?”

Marinette couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her lips, but it wasn’t because of the gas. The ludicrousness of the situation was simply too much. Who asks their soulmate not to give them another surprise such as the gift of sight? Who finds their soulmate in the hero who’s saving them during a villain attack?

Apparently, Marinette does, and this field trip, she decided, was turning out to be much more interesting than originally expected.

(Send me a letter and I’ll do a thing!)

(The next one I’ll be doing is O with Felinette!)

#asks #Daminette #Soulmate AUs

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oohnoniall · 3 years ago

Text

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Four (Kaz)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

He hated to lose. Hated to be in anyone's pocket. When a plan failed it made him feel as though he was once more that scared child who had held onto his brother's hand. He felt weak. Weaker than anyone in the Barrel should feel. If anyone had found out about this detour in his plans, he would have already been marked. Kaz Brekker would have been a name that was not remembered despite the fact that he was quickly becoming the man to look out for.

Needless to say, he was in a foul mood.

His hands were steady as he picked up the drink that had been Jesper's. He didn't bother to look at the other man; a boy really; as he drank it. The alcohol burned his throat, he could feel its trail burning all the way to his stomach. He needed that burn. Needed to feel something other than the rage in his heart. He knew that he would never get another chance to break into the Grand Palace and steal the Sun Summoner.

Not that she would even be there.

He had not once thought that the girl would be stupid enough to run. He had never thought she'd leave the safety of the Grand Palace and General Kirigin. Anyone would have known that Fjerda and the Shu would be after her. How she thought she'd be safer on the run was beyond him.

After the showing last night she was in more danger than ever. Kaz knew it would be harder to find her, harder to capture her. There was no telling where she would go or where she would be hiding. Not to mention they'd already ruined the one place they could go and get information. The Little Palace would have been the most opportune place to be for information. All of it would have gone to Kirigin.

They'd blown that cover though. The other guards had caught sight of them, the princess had spoken to him. A stableboy was very aware of Jesper and what he looked like. None of them would be able to go back.

"What's our plan?" Inej stood at his shoulder, his constant wraith. He wondered briefly what life would be like if she wasn't at his side. He was certain that most of his plans would have gone up in smoke by that point.

Just like the one they were running from.

"I don't know," he said, his jaw clenching as he stared down at the empty glass in his gloved hand. He hated not knowing, hated to be on the outside. He never knew what to say or do. Never knew how to feel about the whole thing. It was like he was a child all over again, trapped with those bodies and staring into his brother's glazed-over eyes. Just the thought was enough to make him shudder.

He suppressed the shudder. He didn't need any of the others to know that he was reflecting on things. Didn't need them knowing that he was afraid for once. Kaz Brekker was a man who was driven by fear. Fear of failure, fear of being unknown, fear of never getting his revenge on Pekka Rollins. Fear and revenge ran deep within him. He had a strong sense of what he needed, what he wanted.

Kaz could care less about the money, about the power. All that mattered was making Pekka Rollins pay. He couldn't do that when he was failing at jobs hundreds of miles away from the Barrel.

Inej seemed to understand that he was not in the mood to be messed with. She just stared at him. Her eyes were depthless and filled with everything she wanted to say. He couldn't look at her. Couldn't stand to look and see what she thought of him. He knew it would be the same thing he thought of himself. Worthless, pathetic. Couldn't steal a saint if he tried.

Jesper, on the other hand, chose not to read the warning signs. "We could always stay here," he sounded almost cheerful at the prospect. "This place is nice. We could start a farm, live a quiet life."

Inej and Kaz both looked at him.

"Or perhaps not," he gripped the drink the bartender slid over to him as if guarding it against his two companions. "You'll think of something boss, you always do." Even in the worst of situations, Jesper was a beacon of light in a cold, dark world. Maybe that was the real reason Kaz kept him around. The man reminded him that things were not always as dire as they seemed. As long as they could breathe, they could stay alive. Kaz could think of a plan even when their backs were against the wall.

His brow furrowed slightly, fingers tapping gently against the glass in his hand. Their backs were against the wall. The would-be-saint had run off. But there had been talk of another running with her. The gossips in the bar had mentioned a tracker. One that Kirigin had been using for a secret mission. That was something they could use.

This tracker had to be someone important to her. It had to be someone that they could use. Someone who could lead them just where they needed to be. But how did one track a tracker? How did they find the two?

The docks. They would be escaping Ravka as soon as they possibly could. All they would have to do was wait at the docks. There would be a way across the Fold, one that the Sun Summoner and her tracker would use. The trio could wait for them there, they could become part of the background. It was what they had done for years in the Barrel.

"Plotting face?" Jesper spoke softly from somewhere above him.

"Plotting face," Inej agreed. Kaz could almost hear the smile in her voice. She thought too highly of him. She thought that he was kind, that he was better than he was One day he would prove that he was the monster that the Barrel had made him. But until then he would take this kindness and cultivate it.

He needed loyalty in his crew. Loyalty would at least keep them from deserting him in whatever weak moments he may have.

"Shut up," he hissed at the two as he moved to stand. He gripped the crow's head of his cane, heading outside with purpose in his stride. Inej and Jesper scrambled to follow after him. He could tell they were amused by his actions. After all, it was not every day that he proved them both right within seconds. Normally, he went out of his way to keep people questioning him. He hated to prove people right or wrong. He lived to be an enigma of sorts. If too many people assumed that they understood him, he would never have any sort of mystery in his name.

Upon his exit from the bar, he noticed something that brought an overwhelming sense of both dread and morbid excitement to him. A carriage sat in front of the bar.

A carriage with General Kirigin's crest on the side. The sun in eclipse had never been more deadly nor more beautiful to him.

He glanced once at Jesper before looking away again. Jesper seemed to understand. He slid one of the beautiful Zemeni revolvers from its holster before heading to the carriage. Jesper was the one who could go around it without arousing suspicion. The Darkling hadn't seen him except for the briefest of seconds in the dark of the night.

Inej slipped away from him as well, heading up to the rooftops. The Wraith watched over him as though she were a guardian angel. Kaz Brekker knew that he did not deserve to be guarded by angels or Saints. He deserved demons, monsters. After all, he could rule over them with a smile and a smirk.

While Jesper gathered intel from whoever may have been in the carriage, Kaz slipped away from the scene. Despite his leg, he found that he could travel at a quick pace when the need arose. He wanted to find the General. Wanted to know just what he knew about the whole thing. Even if he knew that could be a death sentence.

Kaz was not afraid of death. He knew that his time would come sooner or later. He just had priorities before the Saints took him from the mortal plane. He needed to dethrone Rollins, needed to be better than every other boss in the Barrel. But most of all, he needed to prove himself to Jordie.

Finding Kirigin did not take long. In fact, it did not take any effort whatsoever. It felt as though he had turned a corner and there he was. Kaz was almost frightened at how quickly he had shown up. Almost, but not quite.

"You," his voice was a hiss. Kirigin was glaring at him, those eyes deep and dark enough that it reminded Kaz of the Fold. "You slimy little rat. Where is she? What've you done with her?" It took him a moment to realize that Kirigin meant Alina Starkov. The would-be-saint.

"She doesn't like being anyone's prisoner it would seem," Kaz stated as he leaned lazily against his cane. While he looked like the picture of contentment, his heart was pounding. He had learned long ago to not allow his anxieties to play on his face. It was easier when he looked as though he could care less about anything that was going on. That and it helped to piss people off. A pissed-off person was more likely to reveal their plans. Pride and anger got more people into trouble than anyone had ever cared to realize.

Kirigin began to walk towards him. Long legs causing long strides. The darkness of his shadows seemed to build around him as though they were living. Kaz wanted to throw up at the sight. "Give her back to me or your friends will meet a very sticky end."

Kaz's stare was bored although his palms were sweaty in his gloves. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and run as far as possible from this place. "I don't have the girl. I don't have friends. Threaten someone with something to lose next time." His gravelly voice came out rougher, the telltale sign of his lies. He hated that he still had a tell. He had worked for years to get rid of all of them.

He did have something to lose. All he had built could come crumbling down if he wasn't careful. He'd already put up the club in order to bring Inej along.

Kirigin snarled at him, a curse rising on his lips. Kaz did not need to be warned twice. He knew danger when he saw it. While most would assume that he did not have a sense of self-preservation, mainly because of how intense most of his plans seemed to be, he had quite an intense one. He would not let anyone kill him. Not anytime soon. Kaz was supposed to be the one who brought destruction to those who were not expecting it. He was not supposed to be the one who managed to get caught in the crossfires.

He flung his arm out, tossing down a flash bomb that his demolition man in Kerch had made him. He only had a few left, only to be used in case of emergency. The Darkling baring down at him? Yes, that counted as an emergency.

Kaz fled the scene as quickly as he could while Kirigin was blinded. He found himself back in the square, Jesper stood grinning far too widely with a book in his hand. Inej looked worse for wear, a haunted look in her eye and anxious energy surrounding her. They had been caught unaware. Kaz could not help but to blame himself for it. He should have expected some sort of attack after last night. After all, they had been seen running from the palace around the time the Sun Summoner had gone missing. They had targets on their backs.

"We need to leave, now," Inej twirled one of her knives as she spoke. Kaz nodded once before he motioned for the two to follow after him.

"Why not steal a carriage?" Jesper spoke as they ran past stables, his breath coming in soft pants that Kaz found somewhat annoying. The whole question was annoying. The situation itself was enough to darken his normally foul mood.

"It's what they expect of us after last night," Kaz stated as they slipped out of the town's gates. His chest burned, his leg ached, but none of it would make him slow. Not until they got somewhere they could hide long enough to figure out just what to do.

The three rushed into the forest, taking a moment to catch their breath once they were deep within the confines of the forest. Kaz knew that this was a stupid plan. He knew that they needed to be careful. With the Darkling at their back, they were in more trouble than he had originally believed. Yet, there was nothing they could do but try to find Alina. They had to figure out how to get her back and return to Kerch. They had to figure out if they even wanted to.

Inej was beginning to break. He could tell by the look in her eye and the set of her square jaw. He wondered why she still believed in her Saints. They had clearly forsaken her. So why did she find it within herself to be so pious? Why did she want anything to do with them? With any of it?

Questions he would never ask seemed to crowd his mind. He had trouble with that. He thought too much about too many things. It was normally a useful tool. He was able to see past things that most people didn't. He was able to find the smallest details and then exploit them. It had helped when he was rising in rank. It had helped him to capture the Barrel.

"Where do we go now?" Jesper questioned, his chest heaving as he panted. His eyes were wild, glancing at everything at once and seeing nothing. Kaz knew that Jesper often had trouble sitting still. He knew the sharpshooter needed to feel something moving at all times, whatever it was matching the beat of his heart.

"We continue to the docks. But we do so silently. We'll board whatever we can find to get us across the Fold. The Saint and her Tracker should make an appearance at some point," Kaz brushed the head of his cane off. Dust from his flash bomb still coated the surface. "We stick to the plan. We can outrun Kirigin and his Grisha as long as we keep our heads and avoid detection."

He stared at the sharpshooter as he spoke. Out of the three of them, Jesper was the most likely to be caught. He had a way of drawing attention to himself. That was the one thing they did not need. Having all of Ravka's Second Army coming after them would only lead to losing the club. And possibly their lives. That strangely did not affect Kaz as much as it should have. He was at risk of losing his life every day he stayed at the top of the Dregs.

"Okay," Inej breathed out through her nose, a sure sign that she wasn't happy. "So our entire plan is to wait it out?"

"Sometimes inaction can be the greatest action," Kaz stated as he began to walk away. They had to get moving before the sun went down. He didn't fancy being caught outdoors during winter in Ravka. Kerch got cold enough. Ravka, on the other hand, had nights that were below freezing in the depths of winter. Being turned into a frozen crow did not sound appealing to him.

"I don't think now is one of those times," Jesper spoke as he and Inej followed after Kaz. "We'll freeze our assess off before we get there."

"That would keep you from talking at least," Kaz grumbled as they trekked through the forest. He could feel Jesper's glare. Normally, he would have intimidated him or done something cruel in response. He did not have the energy. If his sharpshooter wanted to waste energy hating him, so be it. They would get out of this alive. They would keep the Crow Club. He wouldn't let them fail. Even if it meant alienating the only friends he'd ever had.

Kaz didn't believe in friendship. It was a waste of time. He had people who were loyal to him. People he could hold at arm's length. They could betray him but they could never tell anyone his secrets. They'd only ever be able to reveal an idea of who Dirtyhands was. No one would ever know the truth behind the Bastard of the Barrel. It was safer that way. Lonely, but safer. Jordie should've been the same way. Maybe then Kaz wouldn't be so alone in this damned world.

Thoughts of Jordie plagued him as they journeyed for three days.

It was three days of hell. Of breaking into random barns and sleeping on floors that smelled of shit and hay. It had been trekking through mud and snow, being near blinded by a blizzard, and foraging for food when they couldn't risk showing their faces in a town. Kaz had counted down the days till they had reached civilization. He had not been made for foraging and hiding in the dirt. The farm had never been what he had wanted. It never would be.

Inej was the one who got them lodging. A vacant house nearer to the Fold than anywhere else. Its occupants had been devoured by the Volcra. Kaz didn't care about the ghosts. The house didn't smell of hay or animal excrement. It would do.

There had been no talk of the Saint coming to town. No one had heard anything about a tracker either. The gossip in the tavern stayed focused on who was sleeping with who, who was with child, and who owed money to the crown. None of it mattered to him. None of these people were important enough to him. They weren't pigeons to swindle or those who would have any knowledge of the would-be-saint. All they were was normal, everyday people going about their shitty lives. Kaz couldn't hate them for not knowing anything and yet, he found them completely and utterly horrid.

The tavern the trio of crows found themselves in was as dank and depressing as every other tavern they'd seen. The lights flickered, the chairs creaked, and the glasses were more grime than glass. It was enough to make anyone's stomach turn. Yet, it was also the one place that reminded any of them of home. The Barrel was home if they liked it or not. Most of the time, it was something that everyone hated.

Everyone wanted out of the Barrel. Yet very few ever made it out. Kaz knew he would never get out. His heart belonged there. All the torn, shredded, dirty pieces of it. There had never been anywhere else for him. There never would be.

"Are you sure she'll show up here?" Inej questioned from her seat across from Kaz. She had a drink in her hands, although she stared into it as though it held every answer she'd ever searched for. He doubted she would actually drink it any time soon. Although, she had been known to surprise him.

"If she doesn't come of her own accord," Kaz began, staring at the patrons of the bar as he spoke, "then Kirigin will bring her. She's his great victory. He's a narcissist, he'll be determined to show her off. To end the Fold and claim Ravka as his own."

"Shouldn't we help her then?"

"No," he hadn't told her of the club. Hadn't told her what was at risk should they fail. No, he'd kept that to himself. It was his burden to bear. "She's the mark. She's not a damsel in distress."

The tavern door opened, spilling fresh sunlight into the darkness. He nearly winced at the golden light. A woman slipped in, a cloak covering her head. He could see golden hair underneath it, strands falling down her shoulders despite whatever attempts had been made to pull it back.

The woman walked with an easy elegance, her feet barely touching the floor as she strode to the bar. He didn't hear what she ordered, didn't know what she said to the barkeep. He just saw the way the man sneered, the way her fingers twitched. Instead of reaching for a knife, as he had assumed she would, she tossed a coin onto the bar.

Kaz knew he should look away from her but there was something there. Something that tugged at his brain. He recognized something about the woman. That alone could be dangerous. She may have been a Grisha in disguise. Someone who was looking for them as a favor to Kirigin.

The woman turned once she got her drink, her eyes scanning the bar and landing on their table. The hood of her cloak concealed her face and yet, he could feel her gaze upon him. His spine stiffened as she made her way towards them. Her graceful walk almost looked like a dance.

A sinking feeling began in the pit of his stomach.

"Mr. Vanzin," Anastasia Lantsov lowered her hood, a smile playing on her lips, "I've been looking for you."

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Another One?!, Part 2

First > Next

Years passed them by. It’s funny how that happens when no one in the house has a distinct schedule to follow.

The hours blending together was actually really good for them as vigilantes. People couldn’t just plan around their normal patrolling hours.

Also, it meant that they could take days off without anyone thinking much of it.

Like today.

He glared at his reflection, touching his hair for the millionth time in an attempt to fix it. Or, rather, un-fix it. He was going for a messier look, why couldn’t he just get it to cooperate?

He gave his wife a pleading look. “Help?”

She clicked her tongue and looked him up and down a few times to get a gauge for his outfit (which he had purposely made too vague for her to get an idea of what they were doing) then rested her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d love to help…”

“But…?”

“But I can’t use my expertise unless I know where we’re going. There’s certain looks for different occasions, after all.”

He sighed. “C’mon…”

She bit her lip. “Fine. Just tell me how formal I need to be.”

“Casual…” He hesitated as he mulled it over. “But not jeans casual, more like day-dress casual. And wear darker colors, you could get stains on it.”

“There, was that so hard?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Considering I’m sure you’ve now guessed the surprise, I’m going to say yes.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

He pouted. Man. He’d been so careful about keeping everything a secret from her. It was their tenth anniversary, he’d wanted to surprise her. He’d pulled out all the stops, even using cash for the tickets so she wouldn’t have an easy way to trace the payments.

Only to have it spoiled because of his hair.

Dang.

Then, she laughed and he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that she’d found out. The smile was worth it.

She reached up and started running her fingers through his hair. “As always, your problem is that you use too much hair gel… you never learn, do you…?”

“Maybe I do it on purpose to make you mess with my hair.”

She gave him a skeptical look and then pulled away. “Done. Time to get ready for… a carnival…? No… a circus.”

He pouted.

Marinette gave him another one of those laughs before slipping into the bathroom to change.

Two hours later they sat in a circus tent. Front-row seats, of course, they weren’t stingy.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for everything to start. He stole some of her popcorn and smiled at the halfhearted glare he earned. His smile dropped when she dropped some onto his head. He pulled away from her to try and pick the pieces out.

“C’mon, Mari, my hair took so long. The paparazzi always checks on us on our anniversaries. I’m a model, you can’t do this to me --.”

And then the lights dimmed. And the ringmaster walked out.

The both of them tensed. The crowd was buzzing with excitment, but the two vigilantes gave each other wary looks. The ringmaster seemed almost anxious, his knuckles white on his cane.

Still, he gave a brilliant smile to the crowd as he announced the first act.

They relaxed the longer they watched. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, the contortionist was absolutely fine. So was the person doing aerial silks, and the clowns, the snake charmer…

Maybe the ringmaster was just new. He seemed to be growing more and more confident with each act. False alarm.

But then the trapeze artists came onstage.

Marinette murmured something about their outfits that he didn’t catch but knew was insulting.

The young performer smiled and waved to the crowd, then started climbing the opposite ladder as his parents.

The mom grabbed ahold of the trapeze and smiled as she hooked her knees over the bar, then held her hands out for her husband. The man jumped out and caught her hands.

And then the wire snapped.

The couple barely had a chance to scream before they hit the dirt.

The tent was completely silent.

And then the chaos started. Parents rushed to cover their kids’ eyes, people stumbled over each other as they ran, others surged forward to see better.

He could feel Marinette hop the railing in front of them to go check their pulses. There was no need, everyone could see it plainly, but she still tried.

Adrien didn’t move, his eyes locked on the kid.

He was standing there. He was hugging himself tightly, shaking, tears spilling over his cheeks.

He needed help.

A hand wrapped around his wrist. Marinette was pulling him out of the tent. He didn’t want to leave the kid alone but he couldn’t do that as Adrien Agreste. They needed to transform.

It took way too long to find a hiding place because people were already hiding in every obvious place they could think of. After a while they just broke into a trailer and dropped some money on the counter as an apology, unable to waste any more time.

They ran back into the tent and found that, to their horror, the police were there already.

Marinette mumbled a curse. “You deal with the kid, I’m going to steal some evidence before they get rid of it all.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then practically disappeared.

Adrien found his way over to the child, who had been covered in a shock blanket. They flinched when he got closer and he gave his most award-winning smile as he held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you, I promise.”

They looked kind of skeptical, but they did scoot over a little on their bench so he could sit down.

He sat as far away as he could, setting his baton at his feet carefully. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

His eyes never wavered from the front of the tent. It was like he was waiting for something or someone, but Adrien couldn’t guess what.

“Dick.”

“Well, Dick, do you have any family that I can take you to?”

Maybe that was what he was waiting for --?

“No.”

His smile disappeared. Ah. Not great.

He followed his gaze to the door and mulled everything over.

The kid didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, the shock was wearing off but it would still make the passage of time kind of weird for him. Adrien could take the time to think his next words through.

He’d met kids who had lost their last remaining family members before. Sometimes Marinette and Adrien just couldn’t get there in time and she wouldn’t be able to bring them back. It was an inevitable and unfortunately common part of their jobs. But every single time felt like a punch to the gut.

But he couldn’t let that show, not really.

He watched the kid out of the corner of his eyes. You always base your approach on how the kid is reacting in the moment. Some wanted open comfort, but this one didn’t want that if the way he’d flinched when Adrien had come close was any indication. Others wanted to just talk, also not going to happen considering the short answers he’d been given thus far. This kid seemed to just want to be left alone, but leaving a child in a vulnerable state was never a good idea.

So, what was he supposed to do?

He sighed. “I’m really sorry about what happened, these kinds of accidents --.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Adrien blanked. “Sorry?”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Dick hugged the blanket tighter around himself. “There was two guys. Mean-looking. Tried to get Mr. Haly to do some… protection payments? Left all mad and stuff. Said they would get paid or get payback.”

He was so shocked that the kid had given an answer with more than a few words in it that his brain buzzed right past the information he was given and he had to backtrack to actually process it.

And, when he did, his fists clenched.

“Did they mention any names?” He asked quietly, fighting to keep his voice level. This was still a kid who needs help, he couldn’t allow his anger to mess that up.

“Zucco.”

Adrien filed that information away for later and then gave the kid a once-over. They were no longer staring at the door, instead just fidgeting under their blanket. It was good that they were coming out of shock, but he doubted that Dick would see it that way. The numbness would be wearing off soon, and the feelings that would come to take its place would be painful.

He did the only thing he could think of: try and distract the kid. Good to see he’s passing on the unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“Hey, are you going to stay in the circus?”

“Can I?” Said Dick. He didn’t seem all that excited, just confused. As if he hadn’t thought that an option.

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, there’s that whole thing about ‘running away and joining the circus’. Even if they force you into an orphanage, you can probably just come back here.”

“I hear orphanages suck.”

True. He doubted that Dick would get the mental health treatment he needed (if he got any at all) and the money at those kinds of places were always stretched thin, especially in Gotham. He didn’t like the idea of sending the kid there, but what other choices did he have?

Before he could really think of an answer a hand clapped itself over his shoulder.

He barely even looked back. He knew who it was going to be. He fought back a groan.

“Ross,” he said, the smile on his face becoming more strained. He wasn’t going to fight in front of Dick, the kid was already stressed enough. “Nice to see you again.”

The cop didn’t seem all that concerned about niceties, his grip tightening on Adrien’s shoulder. “Get away from my witness.”

“He has a name. And he doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.”

Dick frowned. “But I --.”

Marinette popped up out of nowhere, arms crossed over her chest as she openly glared at the officer. “You guys should keep better track of the evidence you actually do have, someone might take it.”

Officer Ross went pale and then ran to his partner to ask where the evidence was.

Adrien was also pale, though for different reasons. This kid didn’t know that the police were corrupt and that telling them anything would likely end in him getting killed? He couldn’t let that happen. Where could he keep him that they wouldn’t check? An orphanage or the circus wouldn’t work, those would be the first places they’d go…

He brought a smile to his face as he carefully leaned towards the kid. To his delight, he didn’t flinch or lean away. Progress!

“Hey, I’ve got some friends that I think I can give you to. Good people. They’ll take care of you until we can find something more permanent, sound good?”

Dick looked a little skeptical but he nodded.

Adrien carefully scooped the kid up in his arms and looked at his wife. “I’m going to take him, you can go home for the night and relax.” He sent her a discreet wink.

She smiled faintly and gave Dick a tiny wave before slipping out of the tent.

Good. She’d understood.

She had definitely not understood.

You see, winks are ambiguous.

Adrien’s wink had meant ‘Get home and brush up on your acting skills because we need to sell this’.

She had thought his wink had meant ‘It’s our anniversary and we shouldn’t be working anyways. Go ahead and head home, we’ve already done too much and I want to relax with my darling wife’.

So, when she’d gotten home she’d detransformed and slipped into some comfy pajamas and plopped herself down on the couch to watch some TV.

And then the door had opened.

She’d smiled and poked her head up. “Back already? That was quick --.”

Adrien was still holding Dick to himself.

Tikki gave a quiet gasp of surprise and zipped between the couch cushions.

Her husband smiled. “Hey, can I cash in a favor?”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, and then pursed her lips tightly. She couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, because now that she thought about it they really didn’t have any other options (kids have a tendency to have no filter and this one seemed to lack any common sense at all if she was judging by his outfit)...

Didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter. They should have had more of a conversation about this than a wink, and she was going to tell him that:

“I don’t know, Chat, my husband isn’t here right now. This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to discuss with your partner.”

Adrien winced almost imperceptibly and had the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. Please, I have nowhere else I can take him.”

She bit her lip and looked at the kid, then squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a more selfish reason that they both wanted to do this…

They wanted kids. It had just never really been an option for them. If she wanted to get pregnant, she would pretty much have to give up crime-fighting for those nine months (and possibly permanently, that stuff has long-term effects). They couldn’t really bring themselves to adopt, either, because their lives were hectic and every single book in the world says that adoptees need a stable home.

She couldn’t let their wishes cloud their judgment. She was supposed to be the rational one. They would certainly mess this kid up, taking him wasn’t an option…

But leaving him wasn’t an option…

And it was kind of like the universe was dropping Dick into their laps…

Dick started to sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. Damn. She’d taken too long and now he felt rejected.

Her heart clenched. The kid didn’t deserve this...

“I… we can take him… but only temporarily. We need to find a better home for him eventually.”

It was best that none of them got their hopes up. This wasn’t a good solution, just the only one they could think of at the moment. At some point they’d think of a better one, and they’d have to do that.

Adrien and Dick both nodded.

Marinette slowly walked over and leaned down slightly to be at the kid’s eye level. “I’m Marinette Agreste. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Richard. You can call me Dick, though.”

Listen. She wasn’t proud of what she’d said. But she’d never heard it before -- she was far less social than Adrien was -- and, really, how do you get the name ‘Dick’ from ‘Richard’?

“I don’t think you understand how much I cannot do that.”

Adrien had had to set Dick down, he was laughing so hard.

When he came home (as Adrien, this time), he was surprised to see Marinette stress baking.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, adopting a child is a stressful situation even if you had been expecting it. And they definitely had not been expecting it.

He watched her bake for a moment in the doorway.

She clicked her tongue. “Are you just going to watch me bake or are you going to come inside? Or do I have to make a ‘look what the cat dragged in’ joke everytime I see you, now?”

He smiled and took a seat on the counter. “What’re you making?”

“Cookies.” She turned around for some flour and then sent him a half-hearted glare when she saw him sitting next to it. “I was using that counter.”

“Unfortunate.”

Marinette clicked her tongue again and then moved to another spot. “When...” She grimaced a little. “When… the kid wakes up from a nightmare -- because there’s no way that he wouldn’t have one after tonight -- I’d like to at least have something sweet ready for him. I know we’re not his parents or whatever, but he should at least feel welcome while he’s here.”

He sobered a little, pulling a knee to his chest. “The whole vigilante thing… we’re going to have to put it on hold for a little while, you know…”

“There’s no way we can properly take care of a kid and be Chat Noir and Ladybug. Or, at least, we’d need to make some changes.” She procured a whisk out of seemingly nowhere and started whisking the batter.

He raised his eyebrows. “Changes?”

“We could take shifts. I’d take night shifts as Ladybug and day shifts parenting the kid. You do the opposite.”

“We’d burn out,” said Adrien with a sigh.

“Well, what are we supposed to do? Give the city over to Superman? Guy is shady enough as it is.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not shady, you just can’t handle people being nice to you.”

“MY POINT IS that we can’t just stop protecting the city. Especially not if the mob is going after circuses of all things.”

“Yeah, why are they doing that? Is there really money from circuses? Aren’t they all going out of fashion because of that whole ‘animal abuse’ thing most of them have going on?”

“As they should,” she murmured. She finished whisking and started searching for something in the drawers. She procured a scoop and started making rows of cookies. “But, probably, smuggling. No one bats an eye when circuses cross borders, that’s kind of their whole thing.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Still seems like a hassle, especially now that they’re probably going to be more heavily regulated because those people died.”

“Well, hopefully their sacrifice won’t be in vain. The bit of trapeze wire I stole from the police might give us some leads on the guy’s pseuds.”

“Are you calling up Nygma?”

She shrugged and set the cookies in the oven. “Kinda. He hasn’t done anything in three months, so he’s due any day now. I’ll talk to him about it after saving whoever he captured this time… unless you want to talk to him instead?”

He grinned. “No, I could never go instead of you. You like making fun of his outfit too much.”

“Awwww, thanks, Chaton,” she cooed. She took a seat next to him and pressed a short kiss to his lips. “You know me so well.”

“Well, we’ve been partners for fifteen years. You’d hope I’d know you by now.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into him. She watched the timer tick down for a little while in silence, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“I mean, even if the trapeze was sabotaged, what are the chances that the acid is something special that we can trace to him? One of us is going to have to go undercover.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave Dick alone?”

“There’s no way Zucco is only going after this one place. We can’t take back what’s happened to him, but we can at least make sure he’s the only one to have to go through this.”

Adrien frowned. She was right, though he hated it. While they had given themselves the obligation of taking care of Dick, they couldn’t just drop everything for him. Especially considering their jobs.

“Okay, M’lady, what’s the plan?”

“Well, I hear that the circus is looking for new trapeze artists.”

She smiled as she set the last of the cookies in the Tupperware and started heading towards Dick’s new room.

Her conversation with Adrien had gone a lot better than she was expecting, honestly. She’d explained her reasoning for why it would be safe now and he’d, however reluctantly, agreed that she’d made sense.

She decided she’d wait a few days for everything to end up in the news properly before asking to join the circus. After all, it would be suspicious if she called just a few hours after a tragedy.

She stopped outside the former guest room and considered knocking… and then decided she’d better not. On the off chance that Dick wasn’t having a nightmare, she didn’t want to wake him.

She pressed the door open and then stopped cold when she saw that the kid was crying.

Marinette glanced behind her, wondering if she could get away with just walking past and acting like she was going to the bathroom or something. She wasn’t good with emotions, not with people close to her. Random people on the street were fine, people she’d never have to interact with again were fine, but this…

She was not nearly as good as Adrien… but Adrien was asleep, the fucker...

“Miss Marinette?” Said the kid.

She winced mentally and reached along the wall for the light. “Yes, sweetie, it’s me.”

The light flicked on and she saw Dick duck his head so his hair would hide his face.

“I brought cookies,” she said awkwardly as she walked over and took a seat on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just went with chocolate chip.”

He nodded slightly and mumbled his thanks as he took the Tupperware from her.

She bit her lip as he nibbled at her cookies, and then couldn’t help but smile at the way his posture relaxed a little.

“These are good.”

“My parents were bakers. I’d have been disowned if I couldn’t make chocolate chip cookies.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

She floundered again in the new silence. There’s a difference between comfortable silences and awkward ones and this was definitely feeling more on the awkward side.

“I could teach you to bake, if you’d like. I doubt you had time to learn on the road.”

He hesitated. “I’d burn the place down.”

“That’s okay. If I could teach Adrien to cook then there’s hope for anyone.”

She had not, in fact, been able to teach Adrien to cook. He had set the entire kitchen on fire in what they now called The Brownie Incident… but Dick didn’t need to know that.

He smiled a little more and leaned back against the bed frame, still eating cookies. He had to be on his third one by now. She wasn’t going to call him out on it, though.

She glanced him over. He was no longer really hiding his face, and the tears had stopped sliding down his cheeks. He seemed content. She didn’t want to drag any feelings back, but...

“Would you like to talk about your nightmare?” She asked quietly.

“No.”

She winced internally. “Okay. Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Marinette let a little bit of surprise show on her face for just a second before slowly scooting over to lay next to him. She took a cookie he offered her and closed her eyes, relaxing a little.

“Are you going to sleep again?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. Do you want that baking lesson now?”

Dick giggled a little. “But we already have cookies…”

“Well, we don’t have any cakes, now, do we? Or brownies. And there’s other types of cookies!”

She peeked an eye open and couldn’t help but smile a little at the grin on the kid’s face at the mention of all the possibilities.

Then he gave her a suspicious look. “Are you trying to fatten me up like an evil witch?”

“Yes,” she said gravely. “I adopt little circus kids and fatten them up to eat. The entire house is actually made of candy.”

To her surprise and slight horror, he actually brought the corner of his blanket to his mouth. Then he spat it out. “Liar!”

“I…” She trailed off. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Moving on. “So, about that baking thing, how do brownies sound?”

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her pajama shirt and pulled her out into the halls with a bright smile. She had to do a half-jog to keep up with him.

“Shhhh, Mister Adrien is asleep!” He stage-whispered.

She scoffed. “Me?! You’re the one running!”

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

Marinette clicked her tongue once and allowed him to pull her into a full on jog as they raced through the house. Really, it was a testament to how tired he was that Adrien didn’t wake up.

She grinned and offered him a hand to get up on the counter, and then was reminded of the fact that he was a literal trapeze artist as he vaulted off of her hand and jumped over her head to get to it.

She whispered a quiet “holy shit” in English, then covered her mouth with her hand. She and Adrien had a sort of unspoken rule that you can only curse in English, it’s just a weird thing that bilingual households do where cursing in the second language just doesn’t count, but now this was an actual kid who spoke (as far as she was aware) only English. She can’t teach him curse words!

But he didn’t seem to hear it, instead smiling as he reached towards the sink and started cleaning his hands.

She washed her hands after him and then started pulling down things to make brownies. Should she do chocolate chips or just cocoa powder…?

She remembered The Brownie Incident.

She shivered.

Cocoa powder. Definitely cocoa powder.

She put some butter in the microwave.

“What does ‘holy shit’ mean?”

She wheezed. “Uh-- I-- um--.”

“I’m just messing with you. I already know.”

Oh thank fuck.

Well, maybe not. She was kind of glad that he was feeling comfortable enough to joke around with her, but… the idea of him secretly being a little shit, while not necessarily surprising, was a bit worrying.

“Okay… good? Just… don’t swear in front of Adrien. I don’t really care, but if he hears you he might think I taught you… so it’s just our little secret, okay?”

He smiled and made a zipping motion across his lips. She copied the motion.

Aw, she’d almost forgotten how cute kids were when they weren’t in dangerous or sad situations.

The microwave beeped and she hummed as she combined the butter, cocoa, and sugar. She stirred a bit and then handed Dick the eggs.

“Here, you can crack three of them into the bowl. Do you know how to do that?”

He huffed. “Yes!”

He, in fact, did not know how to do that.

She watched in open-mouthed horror as he attempted to just pull the egg open without cracking it.

“N… no, sweetie. You need to break it on the counter, first.”

He nodded and then slammed the egg on the counter.

Marinette wiped some egg off of the front of her shirt and then took a few breaths to steady herself. Now that the shock had worn off, she was very tempted to laugh and she was not going to do that to this poor, confused kid.

“I think I did it wrong.”

She snickered and then coughed to cover it up. “I… yes. I’ll show you how to do it.”

He gave a tiny smile as she took his hand and taught him how to crack an egg. He repeated the process with the other two eggs and she worked at cleaning up the mess he’d made.

… how the fuck was there egg on the wall? That was a good seven feet away from the island they were cooking on. Sure, he had to be strong to be an acrobat, but what the fuck?

She sighed and set the napkin done now that he was done and smiled as she added the vanilla, salt, and flour.

She handed him a spatula.

“Stir. Go wild, kid,” she said,

Big mistake.

Dick took her words to heart, and she watched as he stirred madly, batter flying everywhere.

She laughed, only to get splashed with the batter.

She managed to stop his hand and sent him a tiny glare.

“I'm starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Whaaaat? No.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and then gasped when he lobbed a tiny bit of batter at her shirt.

“Oops,” he said, giving her a feral grin.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile back… then she reached past him and grabbed a handful of flour. She flicked her fingers and smiled when it got on his face.

He pouted and started rubbing his eyes. “Ow…”

Panic.

“Oh, sorry, did I get it in your eyes?” She leaned down. “Let me see.”

He nodded and slowly brought his hands away from his face and she checked his eyes with her fingers carefully --.

Only to feel an egg smash itself on top of her head.

She wiped some egg from her face and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll get you for that one, you traitor!”

He squealed and set the batter down, then did a backroll away from her.

Marinette and Dick grabbed their weapons…

An hour later, they were both breathing heavily.

“Truce?” She said, lowering her flour-covered arm.

He nodded slowly… and then threw an egg at her.

She dodged it easily and glared at him, her hand already reaching for her flour again —.

“Now truce! Now truce.”

She hesitated, then clicked her tongue as she let herself relax.

They looked around the mess that was the kitchen... at the batter still somehow untouched on the counter… the oven, which hadn’t even been preheated yet…

“Do you just want to eat the batter?”

“Let me get some spoons.”

A few hours later, Adrien walked in… only to stop short when he saw his wife and new kid there, covered in cooking ingredients. Dick had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. She was fine with this, there was still some batter left.

“Um…?”

“Brownies are cursed,” she told him, then she took another spoonful.

“What?” Said a bewildered and still half-asleep Adrien.

She looked her husband dead in the eye as she pulled the spoon from her mouth with a tiny ‘pop’.

“Brownies are cursed.”

Adrien felt bad homeschooling the kid.

Really, it had brought him a lot of grief growing up. He hadn’t known anyone besides Chloe and Kagami until he was twelve years old.

But, as it turned out, Dick really needed to be homeschooled.

On top of just… having no formal education whatsoever and his general knowledge being a toss of the dice, it was also the middle of the school year and everyone knows you can’t just dump new kids into a class halfway through.

Adrien tipped his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.

Dick was taking a test to see what he had to teach him, but he wasn’t concerned about the kid cheating. What was he going to do? Sneak away, grab a textbook, and start flipping through it without him noticing?

He sighed.

The kid was… weird.

He was always smiling, always in motion, always affectionate. It was something they’d figured out quickly, but it had taken longer to notice that he was only like that when he was talking about things he actually wanted to. If they asked how he was doing, because it had only really been a week since it had happened, he would clam up and start semi-subtly shifting the conversation away.

He was avoiding his problems. And Marinette and Adrien really didn’t know what to do. He had stolen their unhealthy coping mechanism and now they were forced to stand back and watch as the kid destroyed himself the same way they did. And they knew it was a terrible coping mechanism, even Dick might have known it, but what were they supposed to do? They had been around much longer and they hadn’t found a better mechanism, what could they do for Dick?

He peeked an eye open and looked at the kid, who was chewing on the end of his pen as he thought through the question he was on.

… damn, he was actually going to have to learn how to cope, huh?

So, that afternoon, he passed Dick off to Marinette like a baton in a relay race and took a bus to the bookstore.

The psychology section was huge and filled to the brim with case studies. It was honestly daunting to look at. Instead, he made his way to the clerk.

The woman looked him up and down once. “Rough week?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “Can I have some recommendations for books on adoption, parenting, and coping with trauma? And also a highlighter, that would probably help.”

He skimmed through the parenting and adoption books. He and Marinette had already done this a few years back when they had first been considering kids, he was mostly just getting a refresher.

And then he turned to the five books on coping mechanisms he’d bought.

He took a deep breath and started looking methodically reading his way through it, highlighter in hand.

The next day, he found Dick, who was drumming his fingers on the table as he glared at the textbook in front of him.

Adrien had some suspicions about the kid in front of him, though he wasn’t absolutely sure yet. Still, he figured he should test his theory.

Besides, it would also help keep the kid safe and physical activity was one of the things a book on coping mechanisms had suggested.

Multi-tasking!

Or maybe it was just efficiency…

Whatever!

He smiled. “Hey, kid, want to try something different for today’s lesson?”

Dick looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

“Well… how do you feel about learning self-defense?”

“Where are you going?” Asked Dick with a tiny frown as she started bustling around the living room in search of her shoes.

“Uh… work!” She said.

They’d both agreed that telling Dick that she was going to go do the exact job his parents had just died in was a terrible idea, so they’d thought up a cover story… too bad she couldn’t think of it at the moment. She finally saw her shoes tucked under the couch and dove down to grab them, then sent her kid a smile.

“Have a good day, sweetie, I’ll see you later,” she said, walking over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She ducked out the door and started running all over again. Her eyes found their way to her watch. It was a tryout and she was going to be late…

But she wasn’t.

Barely.

She stumbled inside with one minute to spare, panting, and it took everything in her not to slump over the nearest bench and die.

“Hi,” she wheezed at Haly, who raised his eyebrows slightly at her.

“You’re really cutting it close, here. Have anything to say for yourself?”

She rested a hand over her heart as if that would somehow bring it back to normal. “I need a fucking car.”

Haly paused, then nodded. “That explains that. I’ll let you off with a warning that you should try not to be late again.”

“Oka --.” She stopped, and then looked at him. “I got the job?”

He shrugged and pointed around at the empty tent. “You’re the only one here.”

Wow. She’d suspected that people would be less than eager to take the job offer, but to be the only person…

Well, she figured that she should just be thankful. That made things much easier.

She smiled faintly. “Cool. Should I still show you my skills and everything?”

He motioned to the trapeze. There was a net under it. The man had learned his lesson, at least. “Please.”

It turns out that being Ladybug is really helpful when you want to be a trapeze artist.

Actually, she found that being a trapeze artist was actually easier in some ways. Instead of having to hold tight to one thin string when swinging around, she was able to get a proper grip on a bar.

It was a lot of fun. Recently, she’d been using her cane more. Having a yoyo was impractical as a weapon when people were firing guns, so she’d more or less stopped using it. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel the wind in her hair. It was calming...

Also, she got to show off, which was always fun.

She stopped after a few minor tricks and gave a bow to Haly, who seemed to just be glad that she actually had an idea of what she was doing.

“You’ll need about a month of training before you do any shows. Do you have any other expertise?”

She shook her head. It was a lie, she would probably be good with aerial silks or contortionism, but she felt some weird need to do the trapeze…

Just then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and read the news headline.

She groaned and turned to Haly. “Can I have a minute? I need to take this.”

The man nodded.

She scowled as she stepped out and dialled a number.

“NYGMA.”

“Ladybug!” Riddler said cheerfully. She could hear a woman sobbing in the background. “What’s up? Did you see the news?”

“Yes, I saw. I’m at a job interview!”

The smile in the man’s voice disappeared as he spoke next: “Oh, I’m sorry. I can reschedule the death trap.”

“YOU CAN, CAN YOU?”

“Yep! How does tomorrow sound?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to relax. “I can do tomorrow. Thank you. And let go of the poor lady, will you?”

“Fiiiiine.”

She hung up on him and then stepped back inside, giving Haly her brightest smile.

“I can start working in two days, if that sounds good to you.”

Adrien hesitated.

Really, he should be getting Marinette to train Dick on self-defense. They had similar movement styles…

But his hunch had been right. This kid seemed to learn a lot better when he was multitasking and, as much as he loved his wife, he didn’t think her English was good enough to teach someone else.

And, besides, he wanted to spend time with his kid, dang it!

He stopped Dick before he could throw another punch at the dummy to fix his form. “I know putting power into it is hard when you’re so little, but you need to rotate your hips so you can get at least some kind of force behind it.”

The kid pouted. “But this is so boooooooring. It’s just the same thing over and over again! I want to do cool stuff!”

“Not yet. You have to understand the basics before you start messing with it.”

Dick gave another pout, this time adding puppy-dog eyes, but, unfortunately for him, Adrien had never been fond of dogs. He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

The kid groaned and started punching the pads again.

“I before E, except after C, or when sounding like A, as in neighbor and…”

It didn’t take long for Marinette to notice The Guy.

She had a pretty good vantage point from the ladder to her trapeze. She would stop at the top, her hands up in a salute, and pause for ‘dramatic effect’.

Her eyes flicked over the crowd and locked on the face of The Guy.

He was at every show, his face pulled into a bored frown as he rested his head on his hand. He’d sit there the whole time, watching the same performance over and over again, and then leave the moment the show was over.

She pursed her lips for half a second before bringing her face back to its smile.

She’d brought a camera this time. This time she’d be able to get his face so she and Adrien could get information on him.

But, for now, she concentrated on making the first jump to the trapeze…

She sat down after her act, still breathing heavily. She was in shape… but, kwami, that kind of stuff is hard! Still, she couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been challenged in a while. It was kind of fun.

She wondered, vaguely, if this was what she’d be doing if she hadn’t gone back into crime fighting.

Marinette pushed that thought from her head as she downed her water. It wasn’t the time. She only had a few more minutes before she was on again for the outro. She needed the picture now.

She grabbed her camera from her locker and snuck her way to the stands, and pointed her camera --.

The Guy had spotted her. He looked directly at her camera, his face set in an even deeper frown than usual.

She quickly snapped the picture, then darted back behind the curtain. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Shit! Shitshitshit --!

Okay. Breathe.

He wasn’t going to just kill her. If the way they’d offed the Graysons was any indication, they didn’t want to draw too much attention to the circus. It was unfortunate what had happened, but not suspicious. However, the trapeze was new and there was a net. An accident like that couldn’t happen again.

No, they’d probably wait until after the show. That would be fine. She could deal with that. At least then she could stall until she had energy by waiting with someone.

She felt a hand tap her shoulder and looked over at the contortionist. “Time?”

“Time,” he said simply.

She hid the camera and ran out with him, smiling like she wasn’t about to face off with a mobster.

Two hours later, she stepped into her train car and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right, I know you’re in here,” she said quietly.

Or, at least, she hoped so. Because otherwise she would be looking a little silly --.

Wait, a knife pressed to her neck. Maybe she wished she was wrong.

She clicked her tongue and leaned into her attacker, closing her eyes. “You Americans still say ‘yo’, right?”

The Guy tensed a little under her, and then whispered a confused, “No…?”

She huffed. “Damn. Why do you change your greetings so often? Whatever. Kaalki, a little help would be nice.”

“Who --?” Began The Guy, but he was quickly cut off.

Because a portal opened under them and dumped them into a back alley in Gotham.

Marinette grinned and grabbed his arm, using his confusion to lean forward and flip him over her shoulder. He cursed as his back hit the ground and the blade clattered to the floor.

She grabbed it nonchalantly and her eyes flicked over the hilt.

A name was engraved there.

Zucco.

“You mob people make this too easy. Now, tell me everything you know.”

He glared up at her. “They’ll kill me!”

“And what gave you the impression that I wouldn’t?” She twirled the knife in her fingers. “Quickly, please, I have a kid to get back to.”

A half hour later, he had spilled everything he knew.

And his guts…

She rolled off of him and glanced at the bloodied dagger in her hand. Her nose scrunched up as she dropped it beside him. There. Now it looked like a mob hit.

She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, only to groan at the sight of the blood staining her front.

She gave the corpse a kick as she cursed him out:

“Asshole. I liked these clothes!”

He smiled as he pulled his wife into his side.

Dick had finally gone to bed, so it was just them two. For once.

Marinette had a show in an hour that she needed to portal back for, and Adrien needed to go out as Chat Noir soon, but they didn’t want to get up just yet.

She yawned and curled closer to him. “I guess…” She yawned again. “I guess I should tell you what I found out. Which is basically nothing. Apparently, hardly anyone has ever seen Zucco in person, just the higher ups. He just sends people to do his bidding.”

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Great. Did you at least give the sample to Nygma when you saw him yesterday?”

“Obviously.” Her watch beeped and she mumbled a curse. “Alright, I have to go.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeees,” she said, gently pushing his chest until he let go. She stretched out a bit and then walked to the bedroom door.

It swung open before she even touched the knob.

Dick was standing in the doorway, hugging a Chat Noir doll to his chest. “I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you guys?”

Marinette glanced at her watch and then at the kid and then at her watch again.

“Or are you guys both going out again?”

Adrien winced. “You noticed that?”

“It’s, like, every night,” he said irritably. He sighed and wiped his eyes a little bit. “Fine. I’ll just go lay down again.”

She bit her lip and then leaned down to look him in the eyes. “I’ll be back in four hours, okay, sweetie? Can you handle that?”

Dick looked at the ground. “Sure.”

Marinette grimaced. “I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

They could hear the coatrack hit the ground in her hurry to grab her jacket and get out the door.

Adrien sighed and looked at Dick, who was still standing in the doorway.

He really should be going on patrol. The people of Gotham had begun to notice that Chat Noir and Ladybug had been showing up less frequently. Crime rates were rising…

He laid back in bed and opened his arms. “I won’t leave. Come here.”

Dick gave a tiny smile, though it seemed a little forced. Still, he got into bed and curled up in Adrien’s arms.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He tried.

“No.”

He sighed. “You’re going to have to talk about it, eventually. Avoiding it is just going to make it harder to deal with later.”

“Nope.”

He gave a tiny laugh. Dang. This kid really was just them but younger. Now all he needed was a miraculous and he’d be a perfect mini version of them…

“Where do you guys even go?” Asked Dick, his voice muffled in Adrien’s chest.

“Work,” he said after a few minutes’ deliberation.

“I thought you didn’t really have jobs.”

He laughed quietly. “Marinette has a million jobs, and I have my one. Though we don’t really get paid for what we do most of the time.”

“Why do you do it, then?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly, then gave a tiny shrug. “Why did you do the trapeze?”

He’d meant for it to be a rhetorical question, meant for it to be something that would make Dick change the subject, so it was a complete surprise when the kid whispered: “It was all that I knew.”

Internally, he was screaming. It was happening! Finally! He had opened up a little bit!

Externally, he nodded and rubbed circles into the kid’s back. “Hopefully, we can make it so it’s not all you know. Help you branch out a little bit while you’re here.”

He felt tiny hands clutch the back of his shirt. “Can’t do that when you’re always gone.”

“I know,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They stayed in silence for a long time. Adrien was pretty sure that Dick had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t going to move. The kid had noticed that they were gone often, but the two of them had always made sure to wait until he had fallen asleep to leave. He had to be waking up at least once a night, so…

He held the kid close to his chest.

A few hours later, the door creaked open.

Adrien opened an eye blearily and saw Marinette get into bed. He lifted an arm for Marinette to join the cuddle and smiled faintly when she actually did.

He let himself drift off.

A few days later, Marinette and Adrien came back from patrols to find Dick talking to the kwamis. All of them gave sounds of surprise when they saw the two vigilantes in the door and disappeared except for Trixx, who turned and fixed their purple eyes on them.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly for a second, considering what to say, and then decided on: “What the fuck, guys?”

Adrien removed his arm from around her waist so he could bury his face in his hands.

Trixx smiled. “It’s not what it looks like. He found us.”

“He…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So… you’re telling me that this kid pushed our bed aside, pulled up the exact right floorboard, and pulled out the miracle box...”

“... yes.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but I’m not buying it.”

Dick pouted and hugged the tiny fox to his chest. “Are you mad at her?”

Marinette hesitated.

Before Dick had known about the kwamis, they had a chance of giving him back. They would have been able to find better parents for him, been able to give him a genuinely good life. But now… they couldn’t risk giving him up. The reason they’d taken him in in the first place was that he was relatively loose-lipped. Now that he knew something so important, there was no way in hell that they could risk him ever telling anyone.

Of course, she doubted they would have been able to give up Dick anyways. She’d grown annoyingly attached to the kid, he was sweet and generally made her life a little more fun, but now there wasn’t an option at all.

Still, this part of their lives… beyond needing to keep things a secret, it was extremely dangerous to involve a kid in this kind of thing.

Adrien answered first: “No, we’re not mad. Just… this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“And what was the plan? Never telling me that we have a bunch of… what did they call themselves? Kwamis? Whatever, they’re gods. There are just gods living in our house!”

Marinette shrugged. “We weren’t telling you because we didn’t want you to get dragged into this part of our lives, sweetie.”

Dick huffed. “And are there any other secrets that I should know about?”

“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir,” supplied Trixx.

“TRIXX?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE CHAT NOIR AND LADYBUG?!”

The fox kwami laughed and disappeared.

Marinette scowled. “I know you’re still here, Trixx, where are you? I will hunt you.”

“Please, Mari, you don’t need to do that. Just get the fox miraculous and summon her here, it’s much easier.”

“Smart.”

“WHY HAVE YOU STILL NOT DENIED IT?!”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other awkwardly.

Well… the secret was out.

She opened her purse and he opened his jacket, and their kwamis slowly poked their heads out to look at Dick.

Poor kid was not prepared.

He covered his eyes with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “So… I… wow…”

Well, she supposed there could be worse reactions.

“Wait, so are you investigating what happened with my parents?”

Like that. That was a worse reaction. Fuck.

Marinette carefully took a seat on the floor by her kid. Adrien sat down as well.

“We’re working on it,” she said carefully. “I’m following a lead and I got help from a… an associate of ours.”

Adrien nodded. “It will take a while. It’s just the two of us -- and Nygma, I guess -- so it’s not going to be done quickly.”

Dick removed his hands from his eyes and looked at them both. “I want to help.”

“No,” said both adults instantly.

“But --.”

“Nope,” said Marinette.

“I --.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Not allowed.”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not? They’re my parents.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “It has nothing to do with that. You’re a kid, we can’t just let you fight crime.”

“Oh? And when did you start fighting crime?”

“Eighteen,” said Marinette, which technically wasn’t a lie…

Which means it was unfortunate that Adrien gave a more accurate answer: “I was twelve, she was thirteen.”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Damn it, Adrien.”

“So, when I’m twelve, can I join you guys?”

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite, but she also didn’t want to let an actual kid fight crime. She had fought crime as a kid, it had messed her up. She wasn’t eager to pass that on to someone else…

But…

“Fine. How about this: if we don’t solve it by the time you’re twelve you can join us for that case specifically.”

Dick pouted a little, but seemed to understand. “Okay.”

She and Adrien met eyes. They had three years to solve this case before Dick would get involved, and they couldn’t let that happen.

But it was three years.

How hard could it be?

He and Marinette sat on the floor in front of the miracle box, sorting the miraculi into two different piles: ‘Will Protect’ and ‘Can’t Protect’.

Once that was done, they started sifting through the ‘Will Protect’ pile.

“Turtle?” Marinette said.

Adrien shook his head. “Doesn’t fit his fighting style. Bee?”

She shuddered. “Don’t need another Chloe. Snake?”

They tipped their heads from side to side as they considered it, but then Trixx piped up: “I’m right here, y’know.”

The two vigilantes jumped out of their skin. Then they glared at the kwami.

“Must you always sneak up on us?”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m the best fit for the kid and you know it.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Adrien raised his eyebrows.

It was true. From the moment they’d started considering giving Dick a miraculous (because, even if they doubted he was ever going to get to that point, they figured they should at least make sure he was safe), they’d both been eyeing the fox miraculous…

Thing was…

“You’re just going to tell him more of our secrets,” he complained, sighing.

Trixx crossed their paws over their chest. “Do you really have any other secrets you care about?”

They considered this for a minute, before Marinette clicked her tongue.

“Fine. Fine! Adrien, you’ll need to train him on his powers, your secondary powers are closer than mine. I’ll take up sparring to teach him a fight style that better matches his circus training.”

Adrien pouted and fell back until his head hit her lap. “You don’t think I was teaching him well enough? Because our fight styles and training were completely different? I’m wounded, M’lady. I’ll never recover.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I’ve been cured.”

She clicked her tongue.

Adrien smiled…

And then her watch beeped. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. “Nooooo, don’t gooooooooooo.”

“I can’t just not go, Chaton.”

“Why nooooot? It would be so easy.”

She slowly peeled his arms off of her, smiling fondly. “Relax. I’ll be back later. Hang out with… with Di --... Nope. With the kid. Maybe train him a little in his powers or whatever.”

He laid on the floor with a pout as he watched her leave, and then looked down at the necklace in his hands.

Well, he supposed he might as well. What else could he do? Protect the city? Nah.

He walked to his kid’s room and rolled his eyes when he saw the kid standing with his ear pressed to the wall.

“Hello?”

Dick’s face reddened and he turned to Adrien with a bright smile. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Wow, he really was a good fit for Trixx.

He sighed and offered the necklace. “You’re not in trouble. C’mon, we’re going to teach you to use these powers.”

Trixx floated over to rest on Dick’s shoulder and Adrien waved him along to the training room.

Adrien held up a hand before walking to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

He smiled as the kid transformed.

Adrien stretched lazily. “Right, on your back right now is a flute. It… works like a flute. You can play music with it if you want, and also hit people with it if you want. It also summons your power.”

Dick nodded and pulled it off his back. “What can I do?”

“You play a note and envision an illusion of some sort. The limit is just your imagination.”

“Like a Green Lantern?”

“I… kind of. You just have illusions, if you touch them they disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess. Alright, so you’re probably going to have side-effects.”

He watched the kid’s eyes widen and rushed to explain: “It usually isn’t bad. Just weird. It’s why I like to sit on counters and why Mari’s always so cold. It also changes looks a little. Like… Mari has a lot more white in her eyes and my hair has those two little tufts that I have to gel down.”

Dick’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. So… powers.”

“Yep.”

He pulled out his flute.

Adrien smiled. “Right, let’s start simple. The main thing you need is a clear vision. I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to make something appear in the room. If you’re doing it right then it should appear real, if not then we’ll figure out what’s going wrong.”

He closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds after he heard the shrill note of the flute. Then he opened his eyes.

And came face to face with a giant, bright pink inflatable elephant.

“I…”

Dick grinned. “Think we should address the elephant in the room?”

He blinked once, then broke into a matching grin. “You’re what’s been missing from my life. Oh my kwami. That was beautiful.”

Then he actually went to inspect the elephant. It was pretty good. The lighting was a little off but it wasn’t plainly obvious it was fake, if he wasn’t paying attention he doubted he would’ve noticed. That made sense. Powers were usually pretty instinctual.

He nodded slowly. “Now try something that makes sound.”

Dick brought the flute to his lips and played another note.

He had expected the elephant to disappear and get replaced by something. Instead, it let out a high whine as the air in it slipped out of a new gash on its side.

Adrien smiled.

“Nice.” He sighed and let his smile lessen. Now for the reason they had thought the fox miraculous could be used for protection: “Okay. Make yourself disappear.”

He got a frown for that one. “Sorry?”

“It’s… you’re still a kid. You need to know how to cloak yourself so you don’t get hurt. We can’t really stop you from coming with us in an ethical way, but we need to at least make sure you’ll be okay if you come along.”

Dick frowned. “I thought you were going to let me help.”

“In three years. If we haven’t already solved this case yet. And if we think that you’re going to be able to handle it.”

“But --.”

“We were heroes at a young age. True. We weren’t ready for it, though, and we don’t want to screw up a kid in the same way we were screwed up. That’s the whole thing about having kids, we want you to have a better life than we did.”

The kid gave an annoyed expression before bringing his flute to his lips. With a shrill note, the annoyed face disappeared.

Adrien tipped his head from side to side as he considered this. He was pretty sure that he could sense something off, but he wasn’t sure if that was just his mind messing with him because he knew that Dick was there…

He walked towards where he’d last seen him to make sure and then stopped short when he realized what was off. His feet weren’t making any sound.

There wasn’t any sound at all, actually.

“You’ve done too much. You got rid of all sound, not just your own.”

Dick appeared, a grin on his face.

“This is boring. Can we make it into a game? Like hide-n-seek?”

Adrien hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

She hummed absently as she and Dick stretched to warm up.

She was a little jealous, if she was honest, he was way more flexible than she was even though he was out of practice and she wasn’t. She’d been stretching before this kid was even born. How dare he still be more flexible than her.

Still, she rolled to her feet and offered him a hand up.

Dick’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he did a backhandspring from the floor.

How the fuck?

But she wasn’t going to act like this was an amazing thing. She was already bitter enough about his flexibility, admitting that he was also better at gymnastics would be even worse.

Instead, she grinned. “Hey, kid, what should we call you?”

He thought for a minute, taking his flute out and twirling it in his hand like a baton. “Robin?”

“I…” She held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and then pulled out her phone. After a quick google search to make sure they were talking about the same animal, she gave her kid a confused look. “You’re a fox.”

“Yes.”

“Robins are birds.”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She really didn’t know why she asked a kid who called himself ‘Dick’ to name himself. Really, she should have expected this.

Marinette shrugged to herself. “Fine. I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘sweetie’.”

“Okay!” He stopped twirling his flute and pointed it at Marinette. “So, you’re going to teach me to use my circus training for fighting?”

She sighed and pulled out her cane, leaning against it. “Right. I’ll need to check to see how well you know the basics, first, though.”

Dick groaned. “I’m ready. I feel like I’ve been ready for ages!”

“I know, I know, but I need to make sure, okay?”

He gave her an annoyed look.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. “Okay. Fine.” She dropped her cane. “Spar with me.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’ll have first swing and I won't get a weapon.”

True to her word, she let him have the first swing. She dodged and grabbed his arm, then pressed her foot to the middle of his back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pulled the flute from his hand and sent him a tired glare.

“You got lucky,” said Dick, his voice muffled against the floor.

She pulled him back to his feet. “No, you’re a child and I’ve been fighting for years. Like pretty much everyone else you’re going to fight. Which means that we can’t rush your training, okay? You have years before we let you into the field, if we do, so…”

He brushed himself off with a bitter expression.

“Fine. We drill basics.”

Riddler grinned, spinning around in his chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noi --.” He stopped short, his eyes widening as they spotted something behind them. “What the heck? You guys brought a kid to this?”

He glanced behind himself and cringed lightly. He reached out and gently pulled Dick behind himself a little. Nygma had never been one for random attacks, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to make sure that this kid was safe.

And why had they brought him?

Marinette clicked her tongue once in annoyance. “Hey, sweetie, show the nice man your powers for a second.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips. With one high note he was gone.

Yep. They were really regretting giving him that miraculous right about then. They hadn’t even realized that he was coming along until Adrien had missed a jump and realized that his bones hadn’t audibly cracked like they usually did when he messed up like that.

He reappeared with a fox-like grin playing across his thin lips.

(Or maybe they just thought it was fox-like because he was currently dressed as a fox. Who knows.)

Riddler considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I understand now.”

Adrien sighed. “Yep.”

Marinette pulled out her yoyo and summoned a coloring book and some crayons. Dick beamed and plopped down on the floor to color.

The parents smiled fondly at their kid and then turned to Riddler.

“Now, you have news?” Adrien said.

“Good news and bad news.”

The adults looked at each other and gave tiny shrugs.

“Good news first,” said Marinette.

“Good news is that there’s only one person who supplies that specific acid.”

Adrien’s eyebrows knit together. That sounded good, but…

“Bad news is that she’s pretty popular. Over two-hundred customers popular.”

Ah. There it was.

Marinette covered Dick’s ears so she could curse.

Adrien, however, shrugged. “Do you have a list of her customers?”

Riddler nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll forward it to you guys.”

“Thanks for the help, Nygma. See you in a few months.” With that, Marinette picked up Dick and held him to her hip.

“I’ll get you with the next one!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

Adrien gave an apologetic smile and a friendly wave as he hurried out after his wife.

Marinette hummed absently as she pulled her jacket on, then froze up when she heard a gun click behind her head.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

She pulled a smile to her face and held her hands up in a kind of surrender, then turned around.

Wow. This man looked exactly like how gangsters looked in movies. She probably would have laughed if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her.

And, even with the gun pointed at her, she had to suppress a smile.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you, sir? You’re the one attacking the random trapeze artist.”

“You’ve killed every single man I’ve sent in here to make sure everything was going to plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve sent a woman. We apparently get the job done better.”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Marinette Agreste, but I’m sure you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that I’ve killed ‘every single man you’ve sent here’.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t what I was asking and you know it.”

“Do I? Maybe you should be clearer,” she said. “Or, you could just tell me your name and I promise I would be much more compliant.”

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, his face tinged red with annoyance. She tried to push down the twinge of satisfaction. Even if this wasn’t Zucco, he at least had to be pretty high up and was likely the person who had ordered the goons to kill Dick’s parents. This bitch deserved all the hell she gave him, in her not-so-humble opinion.

“Giovanni,” he said carefully.

She smiled. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who am I...? I don’t know. I sometimes fight people. What else is there to say?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Why are you killing all my men?”

“I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t notice me noticing them every time. It’s getting very annoying. Send less observant people.”

Her eyes caught Kaalki’s. The kwami was hiding in a duffel bag that had been left open and she gave a tiny shrug to say go.

The man gave a scream as a portal sliced his hand off.

Marinette hummed absently and leaned down to pick up the gun. She pried the hand off of the gun and tossed it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK --.”

“I know, I know, it hurts, but could you be quieter?” She rubbed the side of her head. “Right, I have a few questions about Zucco.”

“He’d kill m --.”

“Yes. Yes, he would. But maybe you should concern yourself less with him, who has already made up his mind about killing you, and more about me, who’s still mulling it over.”

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room, humming as she tossed the gun back over her shoulder lazily.

“Haly?” She yelled, and smiled when his head popped out from his train care.

He looked stunned for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting. It’s been fun, though!”

She bit her lip as she strode out into the night.

Well, if she wasn’t already on Zucco’s radar she definitely would be now.

Greeeeaaaat.

It’s hard to look into people when you’re on the run from the mob.

They’d done everything they could think of. Marinette had withdrawn everything from their accounts, Adrien had altered all their appearances, Dick had... come along.

And it turns out tracking down 237 people is hard or something. Who knew.

You have to:

Figure out whether or not the person you’re after has pseuds. In order to do this you have to track their income patterns. This requires pretty high tech stuff, which they were generally trying to avoid because of the whole ‘mob out to get them’ thing.

Then, if they do have pseuds, you have to find all their assets. Then you have to go and check every single safehouse to see if it is, in fact, Zucco or someone working for him. It’s not fun. Most people in the mob are trained to not tell secrets no matter what, and getting to the point where you can get that information is… time consuming.

And they didn’t have time.

They glared at the remaining names. Dick was turning twelve tomorrow. They hadn’t even realized it because time was getting fuzzy again, but then they had come home to him hanging upside down from one of the lights on the ceiling and chanting about how close his birthday was.

After checking to make sure their kid hadn’t somehow gotten high or drunk, because what the heck, they had flown into a panic about how much work they still had to do.

“What’re the ethics of killing all 92 people tonight?” She asked, leaning back against her husband as he clicked through files.

“Even if we could, I’d say it’s probably frowned upon.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them again to glare at the papers in front of her. “How much you wanna bet that the very first one we choose after the kid joins us is going to be the right one?”

“Knowing our luck? That’s definitely going to happen.”

She gave a bitter laugh before pushing herself back up. “I’m going to break into a bakery to make a cake.”

“Cupcakes. You know he’s going to want to spend the day out in the field looking for answers, we might as well have food we can travel with.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded.

He fell back on the bed and glared at the list. He should have said they started at eighteen...

Well, at least it hadn’t been the first person that they’d looked into with Dick.

It had been the second.

After… ‘interogating’ the guy they’d found, they’d been given the name of this cruise ship and where it often docked. Then Dick had given them all cover so they could sneak on undetected.

And now night had hit. The three of them sat, perched on a railing as they observed the goons below them.

She watched Adrien send a wave before disappearing to take out the captain and destroy anything that could be used to contact land.

She turned to the kid next to her and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Ready, sweetie?”

Dick gave a slightly nervous smile before pulling out his flute.

“You’re only allowed to get involved if I’m dying, remember?”

He nodded, though she got the feeling that the kid wasn’t listening. Or, rather, he was listening and just opting not to take the words to heart.

She clicked her tongue once. Then she began walking along the outer edges of the ship, Dick trailing along behind her. She twirled her yoyo absently. They needed to get to the private quarters, as she was pretty sure that Zucco wouldn’t be anywhere else (he sent people out to do all his work, there was no way he was doing any work on his ship).

Then she heard laughter.

She looked up and scowled at the three henchmen who were leaning over the side of the railing above them.

“Oh my god, Ladybug has a kid!”

Her yoyo came to a stop. “Hilarious, I know.”

“Kinda! I mean the most deadly vigilantes in the world have a little kid trailing around like a lost puppy! That’s so good!”

She pressed her lips together tightly. “Mhmm. Please, tell me more...”

“Gonna say ‘or else’? Or else what? You’re going to change our diapers?”

She nodded slowly, then turned to Dick. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She opted to ignore the way the three roared with laughter above her at the action, instead concentrating on him.

“Sweetie, I want you to cover your eyes for a second, please. I’ll tell you when you can look again, okay?”

He nodded and brought his hands to his eyes.

She wheeled on the criminals, whose laughter was quickly dying.

“Oops,” said one of them, his voice so quiet she’d barely heard it.

But she did. And she fought off some laughter of her own. “‘Oops’ is right.”

Three minutes later, she smiled and pulled Dick’s hands away from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie, how’re you feeling?”

He glanced behind her and she winced, expecting him to become horrified, but then he suddenly tossed his flute.

There was a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the guy’s head and he fell over the side.

Marinette looked at Dick and gave him a tiny smile. He beamed in return.

“Thanks for the save.”

“No problem.”

She tossed her yoyo and recovered his flute for him, then took his hand. She led her kid through the ship.

When he caught up with them, Adrien smiled and rested a hand over the top of the kid’s head. “I found out where the private quarters are.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

The three of them went along in silence. Whenever they passed someone they’d casually knock them over the side. They might live that way.

But probably not.

Still, it was relatively easy.

They walked along the private quarters, poking their head in doors and then closing them.

Eventually, they came to the most grandiose-looking cabin. Really, they should have checked it first, but whatever. Marinette, Adrien, and Dick all gave each other wary looks before Adrien kicked the door open.

The poor guy had been asleep. Sucks.

Zucco looked up slowly and then gasped, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gun.

Ah. Now that sucks for them.

Dick gave a high-pitched whine.

Marinette and Adrien instantly reached for Dick to push him behind them, only to stop short when their hands passed through clean air. They turned to look, confused expressions on their faces, only to find that the kid was gone.

Uh…

They frowned slightly and looked around. Their faces drained of color when they found their way back to where Zucco was.

Or, rather, had been. Because he was missing, too.

Marinette cursed beside him and Adrien felt like punching a wall. Dick hadn’t been making that noise because he was scared, he’d been making that noise because he’d been creating an illusion.

They had to stop Dick before he did something he would regret.

Their eyes searched the room desperately, their ears strained. There had to be something off. Dick and Zucco hadn’t left, Marinette and Adrien were covering too much of the door for both of them to squeeze past without the illusion breaking, so they were still in the cabin.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly and pulled the door shut, then lopped off the doorknob with her yoyo.

Adrien nodded and they began to shuffle through the room.

It was needlessly huge, but there was a lot of stuff in it. A bed, a mostly untouched kitchen area, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, a possibly real treasure chest, a vanity…

He knocked his staff against things absently. It should reveal illusions…

Where was this kid?

He kicked some jewelry on the floor in irritation and then blinked when they hit the wall nearby without a sound.

Wait a minute…

He swung his staff in a large circle around him and couldn’t help but wince when he hit something that he couldn’t see. The illusion shattered and Dick groaned in pain as he stumbled off of Zucco, holding his side where Adrien had hit him.

But, for once, Adrien wasn’t looking at the kid. His eyes found their way to the floor, where Zucco had curled up. He was beaten and bloody, bruises starting to form on his pale skin.

“Robin…” He whispered, looking at Dick.

Dick was crying, the blunt end of his flute bloodied.

Adrien walked over and carefully pulled the flute from his hands and then drew him into his chest. “You can’t kill him.”

“But --!”

“No buts.” Marinette gave Zucco a kick to the head to make sure he was down before joining the hug.

“But you kill people!”

“And we’re also adults. When you’re an adult you can kill people, too.”

“M’lady…”

She winced a little. “Yeah, I hear it. But… anyways, sweetie, we can’t let a kid kill anyone. Killing… it messes with you. We don’t want that life for you.”

Adrien sighed. “You’re a kid. You can’t kill someone, it’s not good for your psyche. Leave that kind of thing to us.”

Dick took a shaky breath, and then nodded.

They’d been right to not want to include him in this. Vigilantism wasn’t healthy for kids.

And they especially shouldn’t have brought Dick along for this part, they should have expected that something like this would happen. He was too close to the case.

He swallowed thickly and hugged him closer.

Marinette pulled away carefully. She hummed, grabbing Zucco by the back of his nightshirt and dragging him away.

He gently rubbed circle’s into the kid’s back. “You want some ice cream? I think there’s still some at home…”

Dick giggled a little. “That ice cream is so expired.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s been, like, three years.”

Adrien sighed. “Okay, maybe, but hush.”

He pulled away slightly from the kid and wiped some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Want to go home anyways?”

Dick smiled faintly and nodded.

She dropped back on the bed and smiled as she curled in the blankets. The night had been… interesting… but at least she was home now.

She felt tiny hands wrap around her and her smile widened as she felt a face bury itself in her stomach.

But then her smile lessened. She slowly combed her fingers through the kid’s hair.

“I need your miraculous back, sweetie.”

“No. I want to keep doing it.”

She gave Adrien a pleading look and he sighed, slipping into bed and wrapping his arms around them. “She’s right. We don’t want —.”

“And what about what I want?”

It definitely wasn’t an angle they’d considered. They’d been very concerned about the kid ending up like them (they had given up on trying to fix themselves a long time ago, but they were still self aware of the fact that they didn’t cope healthily). But… what if they were too late? The kid had already been exhibiting signs of their bad coping mechanisms, had been since the start, had they accidentally encouraged it just by being around him?

She didn’t know.

What she did know, though, was that they’d messed up by letting him come along. He’d had a taste of the adrenaline, and there was no going back.

She flinched. “I… are you sure?”

Dick nodded against her stomach. “I want to help people.”

She bit her lip. Dick was one of those kids that would sneak out and do it anyways, the least they could do was make sure he was safe.

Adrien seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed again and squeezed them both tighter.

“As long as you make sure to always be with one of us while you’re doing vigilante work…” he said reluctantly.

“I can do that.”

Oh, thank kwami.

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I guess it would be kind of cool to have a whole family of vigilantes...”

~~~

As it turns out, I am unable to write pure fluff. It eludes me.

On the other hand, I managed a Christmas update!! Go me!!

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo

#another one?!#adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin #maribat

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