#however i do need to make it clear that most of /this/ *gestures vaguely to myself* is a bit. i'm doing most of it for the bit guys

[margindoodles2407]

Okay the quiz is *half* accurate. I don't think that rules are made to be broken, and I think that rules in general are good and there to keep people safe, but what I do hold is that an unjust law is no law at all. But everything else is... well it's more or less accurate, on varying levels XD

(i don't think i'd be magic/spellcasting, cause again I'm a very hands-on person so I'd probably fight with a weapon, but that's the only other nitpick)

Tagging: @whyoneartheven @kommandantpinks @turdofanerd and @luke-shywalker :D And anyone else who wants to hop on!!

hiii im doing a tag game because they’re fun as heck so.

do this picrew and do this quiz‼️‼️‼️🗣️

tagging (no pressure of course): @gh0st1al @misty-eyed-memory @thelingering @sunnfl0w3rr + anyone else who wishes to join‼️‼️‼️🧡🧡

[eddiemunsonw]

All I want...

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You weren't even thinking about him lately, when Steve asks you to help him chaperone at the school's Christmas Gala. You want to refuse, but you simply can't disappoint your teenage self.

CW/Disclaimer: No warnings I think? Just fluff. Or maybe I should warn that there's a little bit of a certain Mariah Carey song in there. I know some people have a passion to dislike that, so be warned!

Author's note: A Christmas fic? In February?? YES. Life got in the way, okay? Deal with it, it's still nice. I hope. If not, well. Eh.

Words: 4225

The fact that it was such a quiet Saturday at the coffee shop should have alerted you that something was bound to happen. Something weird. Something like your old classmate Steve Harrington stopping by and making a beeline for you instead of the register.

You hadn’t talked to Steve since you graduated, which was almost four years ago. To be fair, you had never really talked to Steve. Not unless he needed to borrow a pencil or wanted to check your notes (aka copy your homework). He knew you were smart, would tell you as such whenever he handed you your notes back. One time he even asked you for help with chemistry. That had probably been the day you talked to him the most. However, you were never friends. Just vague classmates, one who asked for favors and the other who people pleased her way through high school.

College had been in the plans, but instead you wound up working at the coffee shop for a summer job and decided that you liked the stability to save up for your own place. Besides, the work wasn’t terrible and you honestly had no idea yet what you wanted to do with your life. Your friends had all left for college several states away though and it had been a while since you had been chatting with someone your age, if you were honest. So the fact that Steve was currently talking to you not realizing you were very much not registering what he was saying? Not great. Expected though.

“Y/N?” Steve’s animated hand gestures faltered a little as you gazed blankly up at him.

“Sorry, I completely zoned out. You wanna order?”

“Uh… sure, why not,” he said hesitantly, as if he didn’t walk into the coffeeshop to get, you know, coffee. You both walked to the counter, each on one side and you turned on your heel to face him. You watched him expectantly and wondered what was up with him when he stared right back, instead of looking at the menu behind your head.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “uhh… coffee?”

“Just plain black coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Alright…”

Steve Harrington was acting strange and you didn’t know why. Trying not to dwell on it, you prepared his coffee and set it in front of him. He placed a couple bills on top of the counter without waiting for you to mention the amount, still seemingly distracted.

“So… The Christmas Gala at Hawkins needs chaperones. We’re having a massive shortage and it’s my problem now, apparently.”

The what now?”

“Don’t act like I’m suddenly talking gibberish, Y/N. The Christmas gala. They need chaperones.”

“Okay…? That sucks,” you said, unsure why he needed you to know all of this. Of course, you should have known better. He was the guy who came to you when he needed something, after all.

“It would suck a lot less if you’d chaperone with me,” he hinted, giving you his million-dollar grin. You barked out a short laugh, causing Steve’s brow to twitch in subtle confusion.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you told him followed by a chuckle. “Can’t you ask your girlfriend or something?”

What? You were just curious. If he had one. It’s not as if that stupid crush you had on him in high school which made you so inclined to share your work and pencils was still there. Pfft. Not at all. Why and how was he even prettier than he used to be?

“Uhh…” he gave you an awkward look, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Now why did that fill you with glee, huh?

“Please.”

Before you could respond, he was already walking around the counter, only giving you two seconds to back away as he took your hands in his.

“Please please please please please, I really don’t want to have to ask my ex.”

“Nancy?” Everyone knew about Nancy.

“No, she’s not even in town. No uh, another one. None of them, actually. It would be way too awkward.”

“And chaperoning with me, who you haven’t talked to for god knows how long isn't?”

“Huh? No. You’re my pencil buddy from high school! Nothing awkward about that? Come on!” He squeezed your hands for emphasis and gave you his best puppy eyes. Damn him.

“Also… why are your exes the only option? Surely you haven’t dated every—”

Steve gave you a look. It was both endearing and silly. So Harrington was still the same Casanova as ever.

“Oh come on?!”

“You know how I was in high school. I repeated a cycle of that when I just started teaching. Let’s just say some parent-teacher meetings are very awkward now.”

“Were they at least single?”

“Uh…”

“Steve!”

“To my knowledge?! I found out one wasn't during one of those blissful meetings. So yeah. You can guess how that went. Please, Y/N! You want me to go on my knees? I’ll do it, just say the word.”

When Steve was about to drop on his knees you quickly grabbed his arm to stop it and grimaced at the not so PG-13 thoughts that flooded your brain.

“No, no. No need. Fine. I’ll do it. On one condition.”

Stop it, brain. Don’t say it.

“Anything.”

DON’T. 

“One dance.”

For fuck’s sake. You cursed your brain for not being on the same level as you.

“Oh, uhm, sure? Is that all?”

He sounded genuinely surprised and you regretted asking for a dance already. How pathetic were you, feeling the need to satiate your teenage self to get a dance from the one and only Steve Harrington?

“And you better have alcohol somewhere.”

“Naturally. Preferences?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out something nice.”

Steve nodded and finally let go of your hands. Suddenly your hands felt way colder than they had before.

“Alright then… I’ll see you this Friday? Oh and, well I guess you know there’s a dress code.”

“Any theme? Wait… this Friday?”

“Uh, yeah! This Friday. Theme is Gatsby, I think. But any fancy dress will do. Or suit, if that’s your thing. My best friend Robin likes to—”

The bell above the door interrupted whatever Steve was going to say and he gave you a small nod as a bunch of teenagers walked in for a hot chocolate. After a small wave, Steve left through the door right before shouting “See you Friday!”, his coffee long forgotten.

-

Friday. You should have just said no. A loud sigh escaped through your firmly pressed lips when you eyed yourself in the mirror. The dress was nice, it was just… you’d gained some weight. It fit differently than it did the last time you wore it. Even though it still looked good, it was super flattering in fact, you couldn’t help but worry over what Steve might think. As if he would care. There was no way he cared even the slightest about what you looked like. He never expressed any interest in you and he never would and honestly? That was for the best. You two were way too different to work anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself. It was easier to shut these things down before they had a real chance to flourish in your mind.

Your decision to walk quickly became something you cursed your past self for as you felt your feet tire out. You weren’t even wearing the highest, thinnest of heels in the slightest, but you were used to your flat sneakers, so it was still an adjustment. As you made your way towards the school, you saw more and more fancy cars pass you by. It somehow made you feel like you were going to prom ten years late or something, with the way you were dressed.

The school was nicely decorated in a classic Christmas theme. Several Christmas trees filled up the hallway leading towards the gym. In true Hawkins Tigers fashion, the greens were decorated with ornaments and ribbons of gold. As you made your way down the hall you noticed that they even put some mistletoe here and there. The kids that passed you gave you weird looks, some mumbling to each other something along the lines of ‘who is she?’, while others simply gawked. Oh well. You arrived at the front where you could leave your coat, but there was no sign of Steve just yet. His laughter found you before his appearance did.

You recognized that type of laugh. It was the one he used when he was talking to a pretty girl. Why you knew this beat you as well. His voice grew louder and suddenly he appeared in the doorway. He was looking behind him, probably still talking to the woman that caught his interest, until you subtly cleared your throat. As his head turned, you noticed a slight widening of his eyes, before his grin followed and he approached you.

“Y/N! You made it!” he said happily, halting in front of you as he put his hands on your arms. “Again, thank you so much for this.”

You were certain he had already discarded his blazer somewhere, leaving him with just his black silk shirt and dark green dress pants. He looked absolutely beautiful, his hair neat in a boyishly styled kind of way. Playful yet suave.

“It’s my pleasure,” you said, though you could tell by his subtle snort that he didn’t believe you and honestly, neither did you. Yet, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss how he looked tonight for the world. His hands brushed down your arms and moved away just before they would reach your hands.

“Right, so, basically… the party’s in there, we look at young love blossoming and stuff and enjoy ourselves.” He waited a beat and then extended his arm towards your waist. “Shall we?”

You were surprised by his gallant way to guide you inside, considering you wouldn’t expect him to want to be seen with you like that. It was nothing, not really, but…

“So, turns out one of my exes is here. One I didn’t really end it badly with, for once,” he snorted dryly and gave you a painful smile as you met him with a near eye roll. “I was thinking… Maybe this is like destiny or some shit, right? I went out of my way to get someone else and yet there’s still an ex…”

Your eyes landed on all the women your age one by one until a blonde caught your attention.

“Let me guess… it’s the blonde over there?”

Steve made a funny face and nodded.

“Yup. Shelly. Looking as amazing as ever.”

You were nodding before you realized you were and sighed to yourself. As your eyes wandered, they landed on the table with drinks. Right, alcohol. You could use some of that.

“So… did you bring any?”

Steve grinned and looked around the room. “It’s in my blazer which is… somewhere. I’ll go find it.”

As he passed you, he gave your waist a gentle squeeze and you wished it didn’t give you so many butterflies. The kids seemed to look so much younger nowadays. It didn’t make you feel old, just not really accomplished in life either. Steve took quite a while, so you decided to leave your spot and wandered around the gym as you slowly tried to remember the kids’ faces. Something to keep you occupied. Just as you turned your route towards the entrance, you spotted Steve. Ah. The blonde, Shelly, was laughing way too hard as her hand landed on his arm. You doubted it was that funny. Not wanting to be too focused on him, you decided to turn your gaze away in search of a seat. The bleachers would do just fine. You made your way to the top, giving you a good overview of the room. The kids were dancing together adorably and from the looks of it no one was really left out, which made you feel a little warm inside. The music made you tap along with your heel subconsciously, so lost in thought that you didn’t even hear the stomping of Steve coming up the bleachers.

“Jeez, there you are! I’ve been looking for you!” he said, a little out of breath for some reason, which felt a little uncharacteristic for this sporty guy in front of you.

“Oh? Were you?” you asked with little emotion as you looked up at him. He frowned and quickly sat down next to you so you didn’t have to crane your neck any longer.

“I was getting the booze, remember?” he mumbled. You snorted as he uncovered it from under his blazer which he was carrying and handed it to you.

“Couldn’t let the kids see,” he explained as he heard your subtle reaction. You nodded in agreement and opened the flash, taking a gentle whiff of it.

“No poison?” you asked, side-eyeing him. Steve chuckled and then shrugged.

“Alcohol is kind of poisonous in a way, isn’t it?”

“I guess. So is life.”

Steve laughed softly. “So dark, jeez.”

When you barely gave him a hint of a smile, he nudged you.

“Hey, you good? Sorry if I was too pushy about asking you to chaperone, maybe I should’ve—”

With a quick head shake you dismissed him and smiled softly.

“No, it’s alright, my mood has nothing to do with that, I promise.”

“Then what… is it? Did something happen?”

You felt like an idiot for being jealous of Shelly. For being envious that his attention was on her and not you. As if you had any right to be jealous! It made no sense at all. You weren’t here as his date, you were here as his last resort. The sincere worry in his eyes made you hate your feelings even more. Who knew that being in the same room with Steve Harrington for the second time in a week was enough to rekindle your stupid crush on him.

“No, nothing happened,” you said with a soft sigh and then took a big swig of the flask before handing it back to him. Steve took a swig as well but never removed his eyes away from your face.

“Well, if you’re sure…” 

He rested his arm against yours, shifted closer into your space even. After a moment, he nudged you gently.

“See those two? They’ve been dancing around each other in class for a year now. You can see they’re into each other, but neither of them dared to do anything about it. He asked her at last. It’s adorable, isn’t it? Those little shy smiles…”

The kids were adorable indeed, and so was Steve as he looked at them with the softest smile, almost proud. He probably was. While you were distracting yourself by focusing on the kids, Steve casually dropped his hand on your knee. You figured it was accidental, but then he started to caress you gently and you wondered if maybe he had had more alcohol before you arrived. You knew it meant nothing.

“So, about that dance—”

“So you and Shelly, huh?”

You both laughed as you had spoken up at the same time, though Steve’s brows quickly formed a frown when he registered your words.

“Me and Shelly?”

“Yeah. Any rekindling there? I saw how she looked at you. You looked like a couple of highschool sweethearts.”

“Oh, uh…” Steve chuckled awkwardly and removed his hand from your knee simultaneously. “I don’t know. She said it was good to see me, that was about it. Her kid’s gonna transfer to Hawkins soon.”

“Oh, that’s great! You’ll be seeing more of each other then,” you said with a smile, forcing yourself to be happy for him. It was better than to wallow in self pity at a kid’s dance.

“I guess… yeah. Anyway, I—”

“Steve!”

An older woman called for him, probably a colleague, so Steve had to excuse himself. He left the booze and his blazer with you and told you he’d be back. You doubted it. Shelly was already making her way back to him already the moment she caught him in her peripheral vision. It was so obvious she was trying to get back with him. Your eyes went back to the kids Steve pointed out earlier and you smiled when the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Who knew, maybe they’d become highschool sweethearts. You took another swig of the flask, swirled it around your tongue and swallowed to let it burn down your throat. Time got lost on you as you watched the joy in front of you. Most of the teachers were dancing too now, doing a neat job of multitasking while they chaperoned and watched for any illegal activities. Your eyes met Steve’s as he finally managed to get away from what seemed to be an endless conversation, and he tilted his head to the side, beckoning you to come.

With only some slight reluctance, you made your way downstairs. You had momentarily forgotten about Shelly, considering she had gone elsewhere when the older woman kept Steve occupied, until she suddenly stood next to him again. Somewhere between you minding your step down the bleachers she had managed to get all back up in his personal space. Hand on his chest, a flirtatious shoulder nudge… yeah. And Steve didn’t seem to mind. 

So, instead of making a total fool of yourself, you approached him, arms outstretched so you could hand him back his blazer, and left him together with Shelly. You even managed an encouraging smile, which honestly gave you a bitter aftertaste. Steve’s eyes followed you out the gym, Shelly’s words falling on deaf ears as his own thoughts were too loud. Had you looked back, you might have seen the concern on his face, mixed with a layer of guilt.

As you disappeared through the doors, a slow song started up behind you. With a wry smile you made your way to the bathroom, which was around the corner on the left way down the hall. The music was loud enough to hear still, though it gave a somewhat melancholic echo, which actually fit your current mood quite well. It was fine, though. You just had to survive a couple more hours and then you and Steve would never be in the same room again and you could go back to pretending your crush on him ended with high school. With the slow song in the background, you took your time in the bathroom to make sure that by the time you went back, the upbeat music had hopefully returned. You weren’t in the mood to see him dance with someone else. After washing your hands two times (you had zoned out so much you forgot about the first time), you finally left the bathroom, only to be met with a pair of hazel eyes that could be mistaken for brown in the darkness of the hallway.

“Oh, uhm, hi?” you said, a little confused. Steve was leaning against the wall across from you, arms crossed, one leg up. His thigh looked deliciously meaty like that but… That. Was. Not. The. Point.

“Hey. You keep disappearing on me,” Steve said, sounding slightly accusatory.

“That’s not fair, I waited quite a while up there,” you shot back, giving him an easy smile.

“Yeah… Ms. Tracy always has a dozen stories to tell, I honestly don’t even remember what she called me down for in the first place. Anyway, no, I meant, when you came down. You suddenly just dropped my blazer off and went? I was hoping you’d be back in time to catch a part of the slow dance song but… no sign of you. So I went to look.”

“Ah, I just didn’t want to interrupt you and Shelly, if I’m honest,” you tried to say as casually as possible.

Steve frowned and pushed himself off the wall. He hung his blazer over the radiator and took a few steps towards you. You felt the heat radiating off his body and inhaled purposefully slowly to prevent yourself from gasping. He smelled really good, too.

“What’s the deal with you constantly mentioning me and Shelly as if there’s anything happening?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“I mean… You were the one talking about destiny. I thought I would only be in the way.”

Steve snorted and shook his head.

“Oh come on, I just meant that I can’t escape my exes. I was just grateful it wasn’t someone that hated my guts,” he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head once more.

“She sure doesn’t,” you mumbled dryly. Steve smirked and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Wait… are you jea—”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you quipped, nervously and a little agitated. Steve’s smile only grew wider as he closed the distance between you two.

“Oh you are. Is that why you asked for a dance?” he asked as he gently took your hands in his, which you could only comply with, “you… like me, or something?”

“Or something. I think I could actually strangle you about right now…”

“Hm? Why’s that?” 

It wasn’t really a question.

“You look way too smug for your own good.”

Steve laughed and dropped one hand to your waist, shaking his head.

“Nah, I’m just relieved it’s mutual. I really thought you were pushing me in Shelly’s direction because I had misread everything and you wanted nothing to do with me. Like, I put my hand on your leg and you brought her up instantly!”

“I was panicking! I didn’t want to get my hopes up!”

In the background, “All I Want For Christmas Is You” started playing. Steve slowly started to nudge your hips, helping you sway along with him as he pulled you against him. His smile grew softer, his touch gentler, his eyes calmer, though still a little mischievous. He opened his mouth.

“I don’t want a lot of Christmas…”

“You’re not serious,” you whispered with a soft chuckle. Steve nodded vigorously, grinning again.

“There is just one thing I need…”

You just let it happen. You couldn’t stop him, you didn’t want to stop him. He looked so pretty, so cute, so handsome as he softly sang the words to you. It was more of a low, rumbled whisper. It was perfect.

“I don’t care about the presents… underneath the Christmas tree…”

His hand dropped from your waist so his other could turn you in a gentle spin, after which he deftly caught you in his arms, your back flush against his chest. You felt his heart beating fast, not at all as calm as he made himself seem.

“I just want you for my own… More than you could ever know…”

His hand came up to push your hair to one side as his lips gently brushed the exposed part of your neck. You shivered pleasantly, craning your neck as you rested your hand on top of his around your waist.

“Make my wish come true…”

His lips deliberately pressed soft kisses along your neck now, accompanied with pleasant hums that left him. He was driving you insane.

“Steve…”

Steve shook his head, needing to finish the bit.

“All I want for Christmas… is you…”

A kiss right below your ear.

“Can I, Y/N? Can I have you?”

You wanted to turn your head to look at him but he quickly rested his chin on your shoulder so his hair would shield most of his face from you.

“Steve, I—”

“Please reject me quickly if you’re gonna do it,” Steve muttered, his voice muffled. You wondered what was going on in his brain for him to think you’d let him kiss your neck like that if you weren’t the slightest bit interested. Had you not just confessed earlier? A chuckle escaped you.

“Don’t be silly. I’m just— confused, I guess? When did you… Is this, when?”

Steve sighed, making you turn around in his arms slowly so he could face you.

“We didn’t need chaperones at all, as you may have noticed. I just… the past few dates I’ve been on were such disasters, and I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while now but I felt like I would fuck it up with a date somehow? I don’t know. And then this came up… and I thought maybe I could show more of me, in a different setting? But then everyone and their mother interrupted me all the time and you encouraged it too so I thought all hope was lost until you let me kiss your neck I guess. Am I rambling? I am rambling. God I spent too much time with Robin and Eddie.”

“Steve,” you said softly, smiling up at him.

“Yeah?” His smile matched yours, hopeful, yet still unsure. Who knew that someone like Steve Harrington could be insecure? I mean, of course, it happens, but… it was a surreal sight to witness.

“You can have me.”

Steve’s grin had never been wider.

“Oh— Good. I’m gonna kiss you now.”

And true to his words, he cupped your cheek gently with his big, warm hand, and settled his soft lips onto yours for a sweet, Christmas kiss. Hell, you didn’t even need a mistletoe.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Eating Out Of The Palm Of Her Hand

So I'm pretty sure this little idea came about as a result of a conversation with @bigolgay (but there's every chance I'm wrong)

Anyway, it's brief, peppered with mild angst and a tiny bit of Gary bashing (only because it fitted the idea and not because I hate him)

~*~

“Shoot.”

Barb looks up at her friend across their shared table with concern.

“I forgot about that tasting night I signed up for, back when, you know,” mumbled the red head.  She had been trying to expand Gary’s culinary knowledge in a way that didn’t solely involve her cooking.  Not that she didn’t enjoy cooking, but she didn’t like it when it was just expected.  Nor when her suggestions for dinner were shot down and he would suggest bad takeaway pizza and beer.  “You fancy it?”

“Sorry girl, but Taylor is in town and we have plans this Friday,” apologises the kindergarten teacher.  She nudges her friend, however, and nods in your direction. 

Melissa raises an eyebrow at her friend who it seems is forever keen to push her in your direction.  Still, she fathoms, it’s not exactly a bad solution.  You’ve been out together a few times outside of school and are always good company.  And just because it’s a couples thing, well, that’s more of an insignificant detail, she reasons.  “Hey, half pint?  What you doing this Friday?”

You look over as you hear the nickname the red head often uses for you, despite the fact you’re only a couple of inches shorter than she is.  “Nothing why?”

“You fancy this?”  She waves her phone at you and you push yourself up out of your chair to take a closer look.

“Tasting delicious things and drinking wine with you, where do I sign up?”

She smirks.  “You don’t need to sign up.  Just turn up.”

*

You make an effort for the evening.  The e-mail made the event look pretty classy and you were being seen out with Melissa, who never looked less than a million bucks in your book, so if you spent a little more time than usual putting on your make up and taming your hair, well, it was only because you didn’t want to show her up.

Despite the fact that you’d dressed up, you weren’t quite prepared for Melissa doing the same.  Yes, you’ve seen her most days for nigh on a year now, but you rarely get to see her like this.  “Fuck…”  It’s not quite the hello you’d intended, but then again, you were pretty sure it was criminal in some states to look that good. 

“What?  Something wrong with it?” asks Melissa, looking down at herself at your greeting. 

“No!  No definitely not!” you quickly reassure her.  “It’s just…” 

She smirks.  “Words, kid.  Come on, you got this.”

Your cheeks flame red.  “I know I see you every day, but I guess I just wasn’t ready for…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at her. 

Her smirk only grows more devious.  “Don’t look so bad yourself,” she quips before heading inside, giving you a glorious view of the back of the outfit and suddenly making it rather difficult to breathe.

*

It immediately becomes apparent that tonight’s event is a couples event.  The chirpy receptionist that greets you both takes Melissa’s name and checks her off on her list, wishing her and ‘her partner’, who is apparently you, a lovely evening. 

The red head, however, seems not to care and you can do nothing but follow her lead.  As you settle in at your assigned table, you both share polite smiles and easy conversation with the other couples sitting close by.  They also assume that you’re together, and again, Melissa doesn’t correct them. 

You know you could clear up the situation with a few words, but it just feels easier to go with the flow.  Afterall, it doesn’t seem to bother Melissa, so the only real harm is to your own heart.  It’s something you’re learning to live with.  At this point, you can’t quite recall a time when you weren’t in love with the red head. 

As the evening progresses, it’s enough that even you forget for a while.  Her enthusiasm and passion are things you love about her, and when it comes to food, they shine through.  She knows her stuff and engages with the producers and chefs that have put tonight’s menu together.  You, meanwhile, are drinking her in just as much as the wine on offer. 

You know that part of her being so vocal about tonight’s offerings is down to her finding this an easier way to digest the information than reading the leaflets that have been left on your table.  Meanwhile, you take note of the things she’s been particularly keen on, tucking away the associated pamphlets and business cards into your bag to help jog her memory later if she wants to track any of them down. 

Each time there’s a new offering, you prompt Melissa to taste them first.  It’s not that you don’t like trying new things, but you like to have an idea of what you’re letting yourself in for first and you’ve found observing Melissa’s facial expressions to be both a reliable and enjoyable way to do so.  When she comes across something she thinks you’ll like she’s immediately reaching out to feed you the delicious morsels of food, and it’s not until you catch yourself thinking that she has you literally eating out of the palm of her hand that you realise you’re in dangerous territory. 

This is just how Melissa is, you remind yourself.  How she always is with you.  It’s not the red head’s fault that you want to read further into it.

*

At the end of the night, you’re both pleasantly buzzed.  You walk a little, agreeing to find somewhere for one final glass of wine before heading home for the evening.  That’s how you end up side by side on a small couch in a dimly lit wine bar. 

You’re not quite sure how it happens, but one moment Melissa is talking about new recipe ideas she has, and the next she’s leaning in, her intentions unmistakable. 

You pull back, one hand resting on her shoulder to keep a distance between you.  The hurt expression that crosses her face doesn’t escape your attention.  “Sorry, I just…”

She shakes her head.  “No.  No, it’s fine.  I just thought, we were having a good night, you seemed to be enjoying it, you thought I was hot.”

“I was.  I do,” you tell her.  As awkward as this situation may be, you owe it to her to be honest.  You’re well aware she doesn’t make friends easily, but she let you in, and for that alone, you refuse to let this moment go without making it clear why you’re refusing her.  “I think you’re beautiful,” you tell her.  “Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous.  Take your pick or take all three.  I think you’re amazing, and that’s why I can’t.”

She frowns, not understanding.  The whole evening had gone better than she had ever hoped it might.  Rendering you speechless before you’d even made it in the building had given her the confidence boost she’d needed to believe that Barb’s hunch that you liked her might just be true.  Then there was way you responded to her flirting, and now your words? 

“I can’t be someone who helps you scratch and itch, or fulfil some curiosity,” you say, smiling sadly.  “I can either have you as my friend or my everything, Melissa.  I won’t survive some middle ground.”

At this, she sits back, looking at you.  Really looking at you as your words sink in. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, ducking you head.  “I just…needed you to know.  I didn’t mean to ruin tonight or for things to get so heavy.”

“No, don’t apologise,” breathes the red head, scooting closer.  She reaches out, gently cupping your cheek.

“Melissa.”  Your tone is a warning.  One you hope she heeds. 

“I’ve never been someone’s everything.”

You look up at the quietly spoken words to see Melissa smiling shyly at you.  Your breath catches in your throat at the realisation that you hadn’t been reading too much into tonight.  It had felt like a date because it had been.  “Then maybe it’s about time you let someone show you how it feels,” you whisper in reply, closing the distance between you.

[eventinelysplayground]

Checkmate

This is the first fic I've finished for my 50 follower event and the idea was submitted by @reenrabbit. I posted her exact ask yesterday for anyone who wants to read it. This is one where I got the idea and it never changed, I hope it meets what you were looking for as it's my first request I have finished and posted 🙂! Time has passed and it is now the final move of Chevalier and Gilbert's game. WC approx 1745.

The nondescript carriage traveled down the road at a quick yet steady pace. Inside it's passenger stared intently out the window, a letter held between two of his fingers.

‘I invite you to come and visit me, alone of course. You made me a promise after all.’

The letter had been purposely short and vague. Although he was intrigued it was not the letter itself that made him decide to take the risk, it was the tiger insignia that accompanied it that made his decision for him.

It seems this game will be coming to an end soon, as expected my most valuable piece still remains in play.

Chevalier leaned his chin on his hand. When he had first laid eyes on Belle he was intrigued by how she could manage to take action when others couldn't, how she met his gaze even with his sword drawn and pointed at her throat. When Gilbert showed interest in her he knew that if he could persuade her she would be a valuable pawn.

It was never without risks but she has performed above my expectations.

Truthfully before the end of that fateful month she had been turned from a simple pawn into a queen. She moved freely around the board, never under either side's complete control it seemed. Not until that night in the chapel when Lucian announced she was returning as Empress of Obsidian. That move had been unexpected and had taken his most valuable piece out of his direct control.

Chevalier disliked it but in the end he relented for the good of the kingdom as he always did. He had been prepared to give up many things for the security of the kingdom; however, to give up the only person who ever saw him for who he truly was, the only one who ever took comfort in his presence, the only woman he would ever love… The events at the ceremony on White Rose day and Gilbert's subsequent actions made any other move impossible at the time and so he would make sure this loss of his most valuable piece was only temporary.

I did not like being manipulated into having the game go in his favor but I will still emerge the victor.

It was dark when the carriage reached the iron gates of the castle. They encountered no opposition along the way and the driver only had to state they were summoned to be granted entry. They were directed to a side door outside of which stood a man with curly hair, his expression one of exasperation. The driver of the carriage alighted from his seat and opened the carriage door.

“Never thought I'd be here again.”

“You will be fine on your own.”

“Depends on your definition of fine.”

A slight smirk touched Chevalier's lips.

“I may not be clear on his motives but I doubt eyepatch’s plans are for harm this time. Plus I promised my fool brother I would return you in the same condition you left in.”

“Great.”

Chevalier stepped out of the carriage and looked at the driver.

“Still, do not let your guard down Red.”

“Understood your Majesty.”

When the waiting man caught a glimpse of the guest he sighed. It was clear he was not informed on who he would be greeting, it was also clear this man was not a soldier despite his uniform.

“King Chevalier, if you'd follow me please.”

The man gestured towards the door and Chevalier inclined his head.

“Proceed.”

I have waited long enough for this already.

The two men walked silently down twisting corridors until at last they came to a halt in front of a heavy door. The man hesitated to open the door and Chevalier sighed.

“You need not worry about me yet.”

“Oh that's comforting! Just what is wrong with the two of you anyways?”

Chevalier made no reply. The other man let out a frustrated groan and opened the door.

“Your guest has arrived.”

“Oh good, make sure to bring the driver a meal. I'm sure he's missed our food if nothing else. Now leave us.”

Gilbert stood in front of a bookcase, his voice chipper and his smile the same as it always was yet Chevalier knew immediately that this was all an act. The curly haired man hesitated, looking as if he wanted to speak.

“If you don't want to listen then that's fine, time to kill you.”

“Alright I'll go, but I'm just delivering the food then coming straight back here. And you better be in bed once I get back!”

“Yes yes.”

Chevalier watched Gilbert wave the man off with a smile on his face. As soon as the man had gone he turned his attention to a still smiling Gilbert.

“Did you have a nice trip, Chevalier?”

“Why have you called me here?”

“Not even a hello for your old friend? You're cold.”

Chevalier made no reply to which Gilbert merely shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m certain you've been keeping well informed about what's going on in my country lately.”

So, it is as I have suspected and they have started to move.

“I really should have moved faster, but I admit I've been preoccupied with more pleasant things lately and now…”

The smile fell from Gilbert's face as he let out a violent cough and moved slowly towards the bed.

“And now it seems I’m out of time.”

“Just how out of time?”

“You wouldn't make it back to Rhodolite before receiving notice of my death.”

Gilbert sat on the edge of his bed resting his hands together in his lap.

“What of fake eyepatch?”

“Unfortunately he's dead, natural causes.”

Chevalier let out an annoyed huff.

“You took care of those natural causes I assume?”

Gilbert only smiled at Chevalier's words.

The issue must be more complex if they were even able to get to someone so skilled. Though I am not surprised, it is the price all us beasts must pay.

“My plan had been for Roderich to take my place when the time came, however now I need a new plan, and soon. The government can run without me but the Empress will need an imposing ally while she rules as regent.”

“And this concerns me how?”

“Oh? Are you really going to pretend you don't know?”

I know far more than you believe I do.

“You want me to protect the Empress based on an agreement made years ago?”

Just how much do you assume to know?

“No, I want you to protect the Empress because you're still in love with her.”

Chevalier said nothing but his ice blue eyes wavered slightly and that was more than enough.

“That’s why I asked you that favor back then after all.”

“Ridiculous.”

Chevalier scoffed which only made Gilbert smile.

“What's ridiculous is that even after the late Queen died without producing a child you refused to take another woman into your bed.”

“Why would I want to take more scared prey into my bed?”

“Producing heirs is one of the most important responsibilities or royalty and yet you ignored it.”

“My brother's have produced children.”

“And if their children prove to be unfit?”

“I have time.”

“That's the only part of what you've said that isn't a lie. We both know the truth, Chevalier. Be honest with your old friend one last time, please?”

What exactly is it that he’s after?

Chevalier looked at Gilbert, a sad smile across his once friend's face. He decided that just this once he could give into the conquering beast.

“It was not the only truth. There is no point in taking scared prey to bed, even if they can perform as required, what would come about as a result? None of the women thrown at me could ever look me in the eye, instead they all trembled in fear.”

“But my little rabbit never did, even after she saw you covered in blood.”

“No, she continued to approach me even after seeing what a beast I truly am. I wondered if she was really just that simple at first. However she proved to be quite capable, in her own way.”

She may be a simpleton but her heart is strong. She will survive both of us in the end because of it.

“I agree, the Empress is very accomplished and well loved by many here. Truthfully it annoys me as I would have preferred to keep her for myself-”

“Yet now you are giving her to me?”

“Only for protection, nothing more will ever happen no matter how much you want it to.”

You believe you can still control the game when you have no moves left to play?

“Are you certain of that? She clearly has a preference for beasts.”

“Hahaha, do you really think you can beat me? I'm the undefeated general after all.”

“I don't have to beat you.”

I set the pieces in play for just this moment almost from the start, all I needed was patience.

“You don't?”

“No, time has and will continue to do that for me.”

“Has this been your plan from the beginning?”

Chevalier did not answer Gilbert, there was no need to and he smiled as he recalled a not too distant memory.

‘You made sure everyone would treat us well while we were here didn't you?’

‘As the Princes of Obsidian your children are valued guests even at their very young ages.’

‘I know that but…’

‘But?’

‘I’ve been one of them for a while now and yet you treat me the same as you always have, why?’

‘You are the most valuable piece in the game with eyepatch.'

'Oh, I see.'

'It is also to lay the foundations for them to accept your continued presence in the future.’

‘For easier ongoing diplomatic relations?’

‘Partially but also because you are mine.’

‘What... what are you saying?!’

‘Emma, when the time comes and the board is to be reset…'

Chevalier's smile was not missed by Gilbert and what he saw in that smile made him frown.

“It appears you've been several moves ahead of me this whole time. Well, if you think you can make my little rabbit fall in love with you once I'm gone then go ahead and try but you're going to be disappointed.”

“Unfortunately for you, you will not be around to see which of us is correct.”

Emma, when the time comes and the board is to be reset, no matter how far she has moved or how close she was to the black King, the white Queen always returns to her place by the white Kings side.

[acknowledgetheabsurd]

I will try to explain my "changes" and to summarize my lucid and deep desires. The state I am in at the moment depends very little on our situation. It is born from our separation, of the lack of rest and especially of a moral and physical fatigue accumulated for months. The fact of playing Dora every evening only adds to the overwork of the body and the heart, and it should not be forgotten that during the day I do not stop for a moment. In this existence that I lead far from you, far from what gives color to each of my gestures, I see nothing to sweeten my hours, since my father, the only being apart from you who can enlighten me with certain joys, has become a kind of ghost who uses all his remaining energy to try to keep himself alive, fighting ceaselessly against atrocious suffering. 

For the moment there is nothing else, really, and if I happened to talk to you about this life that you use for others in spite of yourself, I was referring to M[ichel] G[allimard] as well as to F[rancine]. It is possible and even probable, however, that I will one day shout to you words that my letter of the other day would not justify. I warned you about it in this very letter. But it is also true that I told you there what I think most profoundly and it seemed to me that I had made myself clear. You know better than anyone that we don't always live on the same plane and that it takes rest, some tranquility and reflection to be able, finally, stripped of everything, to share what is true, and if, sometimes, it happens to let me go of violent, selfish, terribly demanding desires, it is certain also that this is not my deepest, most intimate part, and that it has been given – for my glory – a heart more generous than these temporary transports and a soul that keeps in it more quality. 

This marvelous love that you have given birth to in me divides me unceasingly between two contrary impulses which drive me in turn. On the one hand, the terrible and growing need that I have of you pushes me continuously to demand everything of you and every day more. On the other hand, I recognize that your happiness, your own esteem, a certain peace that you will never be able to find again if you act according to my worst selfishness, have become much more dear to me than my most desired wishes. You see that I put away from me every thought foreign to us and that I speak to you coldly without thinking of sparing or reconciling anything. But I do not want to remain vague. The precise examples will perhaps make you better understand my state of mind. 

Every day, at least once, I think of what our life would be like if you suddenly found yourself near me, liberated from everything - I must confess that everything then melts into a sweetness and happiness without name. I'm flying, you understand, and I only come back to earth when I feel the painful tugging of a frighteningly acute nostalgia. This point is always there to bring me back to reality and to present me with an image I know well: you and your children. Then I lack courage and the very idea that you will never be mine - I think that if you don't leave them now, you'll never leave them - doesn't keep my desire for you alive. 

As for your life with F[rancine], you are mistaken when you imagine that I don't believe in your strength in front of her. I believe in you and your love more than you think - in spite of what has already happened - but it is precisely because I have such absolute faith in you that I fear that life will frustrate me with this one hope and I try to convince myself in some way that something can happen and that it is to be expected. I'm afraid. I know the agony I would go through if it were to happen, and I try to ward it off by instinct of self-preservation. You can imagine, therefore, the constant struggle in which I am struggling. It's so natural that from time to time, driven by a thirst - perfectly legitimate, I think - to live everything with you, I yell some inconsiderate words at you, but the fact remains that, when I find myself alone with my thoughts, in front of us and our situation, I consider myself perfectly happy with what you have given me and what you give me every day. 

The ditches that would deepen our life together would only come from an effort that you would have made on yourself and on what is dearest to you to try to build me a happiness that would then escape me forever. Listen to me carefully. I will never consent to a gesture from you to make me happier. This would be a disaster, a catastrophe, and I will never welcome you to my side unless I am sure that the reason of your coming does not take into account me or my well-being. By this I mean that it is possible that life one day will be merciful with us and that for mysterious and unexpected causes you find yourself suddenly free, near me. It is also possible that you feel unable to and that, faced with the two paths laid out before you, you choose the one that will lead you to me. Then we will talk about it again, but only then, and I count on you never to deceive me on this point even if it is to help my happiness. So shut up and wait. 

If one day you have to talk, it's because you won't be able to do otherwise. Otherwise, we will live as we can, by thanking chance for putting us in front of each other. And this is what I wanted to call a friendly letter. A letter, like this one, where nothing is avoided. The only thing that makes me really unhappy coming from you is silence. Do you understand now? There's a part of your thoughts you don't talk to me about, and it seems impossible to me that you would never stop. I think you avoid them to spare me and you don't know yet that this is the only way you have to torture me or to upset me. This letter is very sad and I hope I can send you a more comforting word this evening or tomorrow. I love you. I love you with all my soul. I kiss you, my love, I kiss you madly.

Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 15, 1950 [#195]

[oneofafew]

@thestrangerblog

Short request- Floating Candles Date with Sebastian.

I enjoyed writing this one, there is so much more I could do with it but I tried to keep it short for the time being.

I am loving these requests by the way.

Please excuse the lack of spellcheck and punctuation in this one, I wrote it at 1am when the inspo struck.

It was a note like any other completely unassuming she instantly recognised Sebastian’s hand writing and found herself smiling despite how utterly exhausted she was feeling, carefully she unfolded the parchment and read

Meet me by the bridge into the Forbidden Forest tonight

Love Sebastian x

As She glanced over it two things jumped out at her, the first was the very odd and vague location though by now she was used to his random escapades what struck her the most was the way he’d signed it with his “love” and a kiss at the end of his name, her brow furrowed as she tried to discern what it could mean, was he messing with her?

Sure the two of them had been flirting back and forth all year, casual comments and fleeting touches but she’d brushed it off and almost completely convinced herself it was purely friendly banter, surely if he was to ask her out it wouldn’t be to the edge of the forest, then again, this was Sebastian Sallow we where talking about.

She didn’t need to think on it, come the evening she’d already donned her warmer cloak and set off toward the castle gates making sure to keep out of the way of the prowling prefects, the night was still and a warm breeze ruffled her hair as she approached the location, she vaguely remembered following a similar path with Jackdaw and shuddered at the memory of what lay inside the forest, what on earth did Sebastian have planned?

As she approached the bridge she noticed a familiar figure leaning against the stone as she got nearer she noticed the smirk that was tugging not at all subtly at his lips and couldn’t help but grin in return

“Fancy seeing you here” he quipped standing up straight and approaching her his hands in his pockets his eyes were twinkling with mischief, he was definitely up to something

“You summoned” she said with a smile her eyes meeting his, something flickered within his own as he watched her

“Bring your wand?” He asked simply drawing his own to show her, as she didn’t know what a wand was

She cocked her head to the side with a grin “You said Forbidden Forest OF COURSE I brought my wand Sebastian” she replied flatly her voice dripping with playful sarcasm

“Alright smart arse” he rebuffed her giving her a playful nudge “do you trust me?” He asked positively bouncing on his heels with anticipation

She eyed him suspiciously “that’s debatable” she said too distracted with drawing her own wand to notice the waver in his gaze at her words

He swallowed his eyes raking over her face before he cleared his throat “give us some light will you?” He asked, although he’d tried to sound casual his voice betrayed him and he felt his cheeks heat as she regarded him suspiciously

“Why can’t you do it?” She asked gesturing toward his wand

Sebastian sighed softly shaking his head “just cast the damn spell, you’ll see” he teased

She considered him for a moment before shrugging and holding up her wand “Lumos!”

Instantly a group of floating candles appeared above their heads, she glanced wearily at Sebastian who was positively beaming, like a child showing their parent a new drawing, before she could question it however the candles started to float away from them, she felt a hand on hers and before she had time to process that action, she was being pulled along the path toward the forest.

The two walked hand in hand the candles lighting the way, the sound of the grass beneath them crunching and the evening air gently blowing through the trees filling the silence around them

“Sebastian what-“ she began her curiosity getting the better of her

Sebastian squeezed her hand reassuringly “shh you’ll see” he said his voice laced with a quiet excitement

As they rounded a corner the candles stopped her eyes fell on something she hadn’t expected to see, an iron table with two chairs perched at the edge of the forest the candles spread out around the set up casting a warm glow around it she noticed there was a picnic basket on the table and she turned to look at Sebastian who was looking at her expectantly

“I thought it was about time I took you on a proper romantic date” he said proudly gesturing toward the table and chairs

She regarded him for a moment vaguely aware of the butterflies that had now taken up residence in her chest before breaking into a smile “I suppose some would consider this a romantic location” she mused out loud, instantly regretting it when she saw his smile falter slightly “I mean it IS very you” she clarified taking the seat he’d pulled out for her

“Do you like it?” Sebastian asked taking the seat opposite her, his eyes boring into hers awaiting approval, he was all too aware how he looked like a love sick puppy and was secretly thankful he’d picked such a secluded location.

She nodded tucking her hair behind her ears looking around her “it’s beautiful” she said reaching across the table to take his hand in hers her heart thudding violent against her rib cage as she did so his fingers threaded through hers and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment

“Right, check out this haul” Sebastian said suddenly sitting up straight and opening the pick if basket to reveal all manner of cakes and pastries from the kitchen “very generous those elves in the kitchens when you’ve got a Gaunt by your side” he said with a wink as she peered into the basket ladened with treats and chuckled softly.

After eating their fill of sweet treats they sat and talked for what seemed like hours before they decided it would be wise to head back to the castle as they stood a chill descended upon them and she shivered slightly, Sebastian was by her side in an instant draping his robe over her shoulders with a grin

“I’ve always wanted to do that” he said adjusting it on her shoulders his hands lingering there as their eyes met and they shared in their grins

Sebastian’s hands fisted in the fabric of the robe and tugged her closer she let out of a soft gasp and he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his mouth as he eyes flickered from hers to her own lips, he stole himself only for a moment before bending his head and kissing her his lips barely grazing hers until she pushed forward and all bets were off, his hand moved from her robe to the back of her head his fingers threading through her hair he felt her arms wind their way around his neck and heard a soft moan escape her only serving to spur him on further

Dizzy and breathless the two broke apart, her cheeks where visibly flushed even in the pale moonlight

“We should get back … before they lock the gates” she said breathlessly after a moments silence

Sebastian nodded taking her hand in his pulling her close to him as they set off back to the castle “you know, I reckon the undercrofts free right now” he said with a grin watching her face as she gave him a knowing look

“I dare say it is” she mused feigning innocence as they descended the steps into the castle earning herself a nudge.

The two shared a glance and broke out into identical smiles Sebastian eagerly tugging her toward the Undercroft mentally thanking every god he could think of that he’d come across that particular spot in the Forest.

[whimsical-sonic]

uhh hewwo i have written about 1,000 words for something involving sting. i don't usually write! but i did my best to try and capture my little guys

@sonic-oc-showdown

this is the scene where vi hires sting, as i mentioned here

Sting leaned his elbow against the table, scanning the crowds for anyone that looked out of place. He wasn’t quite sure who, or what, he was looking for. The message he received was short, simple, to the point. They gave a time, a place, but managed to neglect giving him a general description of who was meeting him. It wasn’t a big deal, no, but it was common courtesy. He’d prefer to not mistake a passerby for his potential client again, thank you very much.

He popped a curly fry into his mouth. He tried to avoid anything vague, any potential offers that withheld detail, but he had to admit: he was getting desperate. Living on fast food wasn’t ideal, but not being able to afford his classes? That was worse.

His tail knocked against the chair behind him, rattling it. Luckily for him, no one was occupying it. He really didn’t need to deal with anyone else today.

Just then, something caught his eye. Someone was navigating through the mass of people across the street, heading his with some type of determination. He squinted, trying to make out as much detail of this stranger as he could.

The character approaching him reminded him of moss, both in color and in how vaguely noticeable they were. They blended with the crowd well enough to almost fade in, but there was something about them that set them just apart. Maybe it was the way they were tapping their fingers together, glancing around before locking eyes with him. The way they hurried across the street, awkwardly halting to look both ways before carrying on. He couldn’t tell if they were in a rush or simply unfamiliar with city life. Maybe both.

“Sorry sorry, I know I’m a little late.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Hm? Oh, good, yeah.” They gently placed their duffel bag on the table and sat down, adjusting their glasses. “Introductions, uh, my name is Violet, but colleagues call me Vi. And, well, I know who you are, so I don’t suppose you need to tell me who you are. Unless you wanted to, of course.” Sting dipped a fry into his shake, staring at them. “Right, uh—” Vi cleared their throat, “the reason I contacted you. Probably wanna get into that right away, I didn’t give too much detail in the thing, the-the letter. Card. Envelope. That.” Surprisingly not the most awkward start to a potential job he’s had, but definitely pretty up there.

“Most potential employers do give a vague description.”

“Yes, there’s a, uh, reason why I left that out.” Sting raised a brow as the cat—caracal?—leaned forward. “It is of utmost importance that what we’re requesting of you stays quiet. No one else can know.”

Ah.

Vi continued. “Do I have your word? That what I talk about here stays between us? Even if you refuse the offer?” He shrugged.

“Sure.”

“My boss has been working on a research project for a long time, and has been getting closer to reaching a breakthrough. However, we’ve run into some...issues, small things that halt progress. Lack of specialized equipment and an inability to acquire a specific sort of intel.”

“That doesn’t sound small.”

“In the grand scheme of things it’s pretty small. Maybe not small small, but...” they waggled their hands, gesturing the approximate size of small they were referring to. “Getting the appropriate equipment wouldn’t be a problem if this research weren’t top secret; my boss doesn’t want to risk the possibility of any purchases being traced or linked or anything along those lines. What we’d require from you is for you to...acquire this equipment through specific means.”

“So...stealing, you’re asking me to steal.”

“I suppose that’s one way you could put it but yes. That’s part of it.” Stealing wasn’t so bad. He’s shoplifted a stick of gum and a pack of batteries before, he had experience in this. “The other part requires gathering intel on chaos energy.” That’s different.

“What sort of intel?”

“Any sort, really. Frequencies, wavelengths, power gauges, types, anything and everything. We do have readings, but—” they paused as someone walked by, eyes wide. Once the passerby was gone, they lowered their voice. “What we have isn’t enough for the scale of our research. We need information from someone, somewhere, who has more experience in this field.”

“Anyone particular in mind?” They nodded.

“The same person you’re going to collect equipment from. Dr. Eggman.” Sting nodded slowly, eating another fry as he mulled this information over. Eggman...he’s busted up badniks before, but has never outright fought the mad scientist. The closest he’s ever come to directly going against him was the Resistance’s effort to reclaim the islands all those months ago. To sneak into his bases, steal his likely well-used tech, scour through whatever databases he could gain access to...it was certainly more than he was expecting. Maybe more than he could... Sting glanced at the duffel on the table, studying it for a few moments before returning to meet Vi’s rather intense expression.

“On the matter of payment...how much is your boss offering?”

Vi rubbed their hands together before reaching over to the bag, looking around before zipping it open. Sting leaned forward, nudging the bag open to see what was inside. His eyes widened.

“If you agree, that is an upfront payment. Think of it as entering a contract with none of the paperwork. By accepting this, you agree to be on standby, to answer when we call upon your services, to carry out our requests without question. The, uh, payment after—there is a set amount that will be paid to you after finishing a request. An additional bonus will be sent depending on the value of whatever you give to us.” He re-zipped the bag.

“Count me in.”

Vi looked as though they were about to collapse in relief. Sting wasn’t sure why. Who would turn down that? There was so much he wasn’t going to have to worry about financially so long as this agreement was in effect.

“Alright, cool cool,” Vi clapped their hands, rubbing them together. “I’ll, uh, leave that with you. We’ll send you our general location soon, along with the first request. Just be sure to keep an eye out for that.” They paused. “Can I take a fry? Or few. For the road.” Sting pushed the basket towards them. “Thanks.” Without another word, they scooped up the basket and hurried off, swerving around someone before disappearing behind the corner.

Sting rose to his feet, staring at the duffel for a few seconds before slinging it over his shoulder. He pat it twice, feeling how the fabric crinkled at his touch. It was real. He was half-expecting it to be a prank, a scam, some false offer, but no. It was real. Awkward, but real.

All he could hope for now was for that cat to learn how to be more discreet.

~ End ~

if you've read this whole thing, i don't have much else to say asides from thank you! it's very appreciated ;y;

if you're interested in learning more about sting, check out his socs2 tag here!

round 4 is almost over! if you haven't voted yet, please consider tossing a vote his way here!

[missingn000]

Such a great chapter!✨️

Kenjaku is such a sore loser, like he acts so high and mighty but his plans got foiled by the wettest saddest guy in history. So embarassing for him. I can't imagine living for however long he lived and just staying in the same flop era with same flop goals. So cringe of him...😔

I am placing bets on Yuki vs Choso because I want those two to interact and because I think it would be funny if he betrays Kenjaku the second that fight ends. That man deserved more L's than the world is willing to give him (and the world is already willing to give him a lot of L's).

I love Mahito's dynamic with Hajime!✨️Like two stray cats that should only be adopted together. That car chase was iconic! It's honestly great to see Hajime slowly start to realize that there are things beyond strength. I can't believe Mahito hit a pedestrian...😔 Like, imagine the last thing you see being a green lambo with no driver and a person with cyan hair screaming in the other seat. I would never recover (neither will the random pedestrian).

“Haven’t you ever gone the opposite way on an escalator? Isn't it a fun challenge?”

This fool. “Fuck you! You know I’m scared of escalators!”

“That sounds like a you problem!”

“Of course it is, it’s my fear! That’s a me problem by definition!”

This made me laugh so hard, poor Hajime... being afraid of escalators...

I can't believe they gossiped about Nanami in a treehouse. Like, it's definetly something both of them would do, but I can't imagine Nanami's reaction if he ever finds out about this.

“Well, look what just happened with Sukuna and Suguru-kun,” Mahito says calmly, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the Nanami residence. “Kenjaku’s been scheming for over a thousand years, yet his meticulous goals were thrown off-course by the most depressed man in the universe! Isn’t that so totally hilarious?” 

I love Mahito!✨️ He is so real for this one. Truer words have never been spoken.

“Whatever his plans are, nothing’s gonna go according to them. I wanna be there to watch that” Me too bestie, me too.

I did not expect the emotional conversation but I am so here for it. Sukuna's whole backstory is so in our face, but also not? It feels like watching one of those 1000 pieces puzzles. I know that they all form a cohesive picture, one that he loves to hint at all the time (he really needs some friends to talk to), but I also find it quite difficult to form that picture. Maybe I will make a list of all of the dramatic prejecting his issues on others he does to find it easier.

Mahito cried about Kashimo! I an way too emotionally invested in that interaction, but it was so cute!✨️

Sukuna's high emotional intelligence combined with 0 social skills is so fun to witness. Like, unlike Kenjaku's mysterious ass he is here infodumping about his trauma for free all the tine. King of never shutting up and never keeping things private.

"Water is best as ice" I see you, Sukuna, I see you—

Gojo really did not sign up for getting emotionally damaged by some theatre kid with 1000+ years worth of trauma.

Surprisingly, Sukuna seems genuinely offended. “I am not,” he shoots back. “Anyone who thinks gender correlates to strength deserves to be eaten alive by the gender they think is the weakest.” Progressive king!✨️

Gojo and Suguru are so cute this chapter.💖 Suguru really got a lot of character development (even if he had to lose an arm for it) and I am so happy for him!✨️

Tsumiki is getting a character arc! 🎉

Her argument with Megumi was sad, but also somewhat necessary for her? Like, it's good that she finally expressed her feelings, she needs to do that from time to time, even if yelling at Megumi wasn't realky the best way (even if Megumi was acting a bit like a jerk). At the same time, poor Megumi. He is really going through it right now. Also poor Gojo, it's clear that Sukuna's words affected him.

I'll write more, but I really need to go to sleep. Happy 2 years of writing TPG! 🎊 This fic is honestly one of the best I have ever read!💖

ooh i'm so happy you liked the chapter!! both scenes were really fun to write.

omg you're so right, kenjaku really is a sore loser. deserved. i fucking snorted at "his plans got foiled by the wettest saddest guy in history." so true, getou really fucked everything up for him through depression and character development. GOOD FOR HIM. "same flop era with the same flop goals" i dfghjkl. as for your theory on yuki vs choso...hm...interesting...

you described pfpk SO well, "two stray cats that should only be adopted together." real and accurate. they're so attached, they're like cats who constantly fight but meow like crazy if they're separated (my sister's cat is visiting for the summer, and that's how he is with my cat....) rip the pedestrian, and anyone who saw a car driving itself

i love mahito too! i wanted to give him interesting motives for going along with kjk's plans, since we never really found out in canon. i don't think he bought into the whole curses replacing humans thing, so why did he stay? i think him wanting to watch and study humanity as kenjaku tries to dismantle it fits with his personality.

their emotional convo was fun to write, especially their allusions to sukuna. that's exactly what i'm going for: all the puzzle pieces for sukuna's backstory are there, but missing a few key pieces for it all to make sense. slowly, we'll put things together, but not before making things way more confusing first

SUKUNAAAA MY OVERSHARING BELOVED we stan one zero social skills king. he's so vague but so expressive, and it's so funny and paradoxical of him. he never shuts up, but what he says never has substance.

"Gojo really did not sign up for getting emotionally damaged by some theatre kid with 1000+ years worth of trauma" PLEASE YOU'RE REALLY POPPING OFF WITH THIS MESSAGE gojo did get hit hard by sukuna's scarily accurate depictions of what it's like to be The Strongest. gojo is unsettled by sukuna, but the opposite is also true, which will only worsen as sukuna and gojo learn more about each other.

yeahhh tsumiki!! she deserves a character arc of her own, dammit. i'm so excited to write it! her argument with megumi was so gutting, but she needed to get her feelings out in the open so they can both begin to process and heal. but uh, not before some trauma first.

thank you so much for your kind words and for all your support!!! <333

[tavyliasin]

BG3 FicFeb SFW - Day 13

The NPC I chose might be an old favourite and there might be a very vague reference to one of the NSFW prompts~

Anyway, on with the SFW while I keep catching up. Full Short Fic below the cut!

--- ---

Day 13 - NPC shows up unexpectedly at camp

Surprise guests in the middle of the night were rarely welcome, so the approaching footsteps were met with bristling blades and stern glares. However, the man walking into their midst was not an unfamiliar face, and neither was the white raven above him.

“I thought you warned me against wandering into a stranger’s camp in the middle of the night.” Tav sheathed her dagger, observing He Who Was with a cool gaze.

“We are hardly strangers.” He muttered, even though the raven above him protested. “And I would not be so foolish as to be unarmed.” 

Tav noticed the slight limp, and the way he carried himself a little too stiffly. “You overdid it, didn’t you. There’s only so far you should use your own body as a vessel to punish the wicked, as you put it. Here, sit.”  

He Who Was followed the instruction as bidden, taking a seat on a large rock near the fire where an iron pot was reaching a steady boil under Gale’s watch. “There’s enough for more if you need it.” The wizard made a small gesture, an extra bowl appearing with the stack of others in the grip of a Mage Hand. “The hospitality is unnecessary,” he began, “although it is not unwelcome.” 

“Show me.” Tav pointed at his leg. “Halsin, would you mind?” 

“Of course, my heart.” The druid was quick to pull up out his pack, taking a few herbs to make a compress for the angry red gash that was soon clear beneath poorly repaired leathers. “A potion will help, but you will need these to tend to the infection.” Halsin handed the Shadar-Kai a bottle and knelt before him to get to work.

“So,” Tav smiled, “What was it? Murderer? Thief?”

“Deserter.” He Who Was muttered, showing almost no response to the poultice and firmly tightened bandage on his leg. “Stabbed his friend in the leg so they would fall to the predator instead of him.” 

“I see that worked out well for him in the end, given you met his body.” She took the empty bottle from his hand, thanking Halsin as he stood and turned to leave. 

“Wait. Druid, you have my thanks. I could handle this on my own, however a most skilled hand will make shorter work of it.” 

“Now there’s a first, I do not recall ever receiving gratitude from one so cloaked in the ShadowCurse.” Halsin paused. “You are a strange one, but who in our number isn’t? I consider you welcome if my love wishes you to stay.”

Tav blushed lightly, the shadow of a memory creeping into her mind of the last time they had met. “Well. Yes. Plenty of space for your tent, though I will ask that you don’t perform your duties here.” 

“I see no need to do so, unless any of your friends are both ridden with guilt and on death’s doorstep?” He glanced around the camp, dark eyes making everyone who caught their meaning more than a little nervous. 

“Guilt…we have plenty, but I don’t think anyone has any intention of meeting their fate today.” She felt Withers looking her way with an amused smile, and chose to ignore the creeping feeling up her spine every time death was mentioned in his presence. “How did you end up here, anyway?” 

He Who Was nodded towards the steaming pot, answering simply. “The smell, it’s good.” The raven above cawed her approval, still choosing to remain in flight rather than landing. “Your friends are also both loud and easily distinguished from the usual groups who walk these roads.” 

“Ah… We should be a bit more careful about that.” Tav looked around again, a little more concerned at who else might hear them out there.

“No others have passed by in days. More’s the pity, and perhaps I should have postponed the vicious soul’s punishment. Had I known our paths were to cross again…” 

Tav held up a hand, stopping his thoughts in their tracks. “I think I’ve had quite enough punishing for one week.”

“Pity.” He Who Was smiled, an eerie look in pitch black eyes. “But perhaps fate shall see to it yet that we meet in the future, perhaps at a more fortunate time.” He took the bowl handed to him with a quiet nod of thanks. “For now, I shall take up your offer to rest. The raven and I shall leave by dawn’s first light.” 

“If you’re going to the city, you could stick around?” She held a little hope - any ally was better than none, after all.

“As much as I would relish the opportunity to collect the souls of the corpses you leave in your wake, I prefer to work a little further from the action.” There was something in the way the light reflected in his eyes as he spoke that spurred Tav’s memory.

“The…deserter…didn’t happen to be a particularly angry dwarf running away from a bear, did he?” He Who Was merely smirked and handed over a bag of assorted items. “I believe this is everything the thieves stole from you last week.” 

[cosmicoceanfic]

“Okay,” Dean says, trying to get a handle on all his marbles which have, authoritatively, been scattered. “Okay, but.”

But Cas is insane, Dean wants to say. Cas is insane and it’s making me insane, and, and, and what?

“Good things do happen, Dean,” Jack says, and Dean wants to shake him, this boy with Cas’ eyes. Does he have anything of Dean’s? Fuck, how does any of this work?

“Not in my experience,” he answers, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“You told me you might be confused. I need to speak with Castiel.”

Dean frowns. “Listen, pal, I dunno what you think you can gain from that, but Cas is a few Fruit Loops short of a breakfast bar at the moment.” The kid’s brow furrows and fuck, if he doesn’t look just like Cas. “Uh. He’s. He’s screwy. He’s nuts.”

Jack’s brow clears. “Ah. Yes, I know.”

“You know?”

“It’s why I’m here. May I see him, please?”

Dean, wordlessly, lets him into the cabin.

“…and I think putting profits over pigs is terrible, don’t you think? I mean, pigs give us so much.” Meg is, clearly, valiantly attempting to keep up with Cas’ ramble. “Pigs give us truffles, and, and bacon. Shouldn’t we put their comfort over all? I mean-“

“What the shit,” Meg says, getting to her feet sharply. Cas looks over his shoulder, blinking, only to stare transfixed at Jack.

“Easy,” Dean says, holding up a hand. “Easy.”

“Do you know what that thing is?” Meg spits, backing away slightly. Dean opens his mouth but Cas gets there first.

“Of me,” Cas says, and they all stare at him. “He is of me.”

“What?” Meg demands.

“You can tell just from looking at him?” Dean asks.

“Of course.” Cas walks up to Jack. “He shares my Grace. He’s of me.” Cas rests a delicate hand on Jack’s cheek, and Jack gives him the most beatific smile Dean’s ever seen on another person. “But there must be another. That’s how these things go.”

Jack smiles, a little abashed, before gesturing vaguely. “Well.”

Cas’ brow furrows before slowly, he looks at Dean. Dean can’t bring himself to meet Cas’ eyes. He can’t bring himself to look anywhere else.

“Ah,” Cas says, and promptly disappears.

“What the fuck,” Dean snaps, a little aggrieved.

“Yeah,” Meg agrees. “Not to take your side on anything, Ken Doll, but what the fuck?”

Jack, however, appears unfazed.

“They said this might happen,” he tells them placidly. “Does anyone have anything for me to drink? Time travel makes me parched.”

episode where jack goes back in time to some point in like. maybe s7. he meets dean and is like i’m your son from the future and dean is like wait wait. then who’s your mom? and jack just looks at him and squints and does the head tilt and dean’s like. son of a bitch.

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

[eldritch-spouse]

ok got one. Yn and Fasma are an item, a new item, so new that they're still a little awkward and still not 💯 honest. Fasma introduces Yn to egg-boy. cumbrain inhales once, and can tell that Yn is just fucking DYING of thurst, the kid's this fuckin close👌. You wouldn't know by looking they're all smiles and perfectly courteous. Absolutely no hints or tells for poor Fasma to pick up on. Essentially i think it would be funny if breg became the gordan ramsay of romance, and backseat husband yn

[I fucking love this so much, the concept is so good anon. 👌 Also, at best, Breg is the Guy Fieri of romance.]

(Minors dni)

Fasma wasn't really looking forward to introducing you to Breg. The breeder has a weird thing for humans and he's also not the most refined socially speaking, it didn't sound like a remotely good idea. However, the breeder had smelled you on him already on several occasions and he wouldn't shut the fuck up about how smart Fasma was to pick a human mate- How they're the best and softest and also the cutest, yadda yadda, his fetish is crystal clear. He had to insist on meeting you.

Fasma did his best to warn you about Breg, making sure to tell you he's a rather big monster with a strange fondness for humans, on the weird side, may say stupid shit at times. Though naturally, hearing about a breeder and meeting on in person are two very different things and you'll probably be a tad uneasy in Breg's presence. Breg however, is extremely confused. You're very cute and nice, but... Your hormones are clogging the air and the breeder is getting a little scrambled. Good lord, you stink of need. He coughs a couple times, trying not to inhale too much, giving Fasma several confused glances that the ecto monster fails to interpret. At some point, Breg has to wrench the top hat wearing monster from your side and excuse himself. Fasma doesn't even get to start verbally ripping into Breg before he's grabbed by the horns and the breeder asks him if he's fucking stupid.

That's one of the more hostile tones Breg has taken with him. It's enough to make the small monster blink. Thus begins an unflattering, simplified explanation of how you're so fucking wet and horny that the breeder will probably lose his mind if he spends five more minutes around you.

" T-Take her, she's dripping- " Breg shakes him outside the bar. " Other monsters will know Fasma, protect your mate- "

" Woah pal hold on, calm the fuck down. " The little plasma creature wiggles out of his grasp. " We ain't there yet! "

Breg flinches, then leans in, incredulous. " How... How long have you been dating? "

" I uh- Well- 'Bout a couple of months. "

" And you HAVEN'T CLAIMED HER?! "

Fasma slaps a glove over the pale monster's mouth. He glances back inside the bar, spotting you still waiting on the stool, legs crossed and scrolling through your phone. You always look so composed and calm, could it be that you're really constantly aroused next to him or is Breg just hallucinating?

" Listen Breg, we're taking it slow... "

The breeder groans, slapping his hand away. " When was the last time you had sex? "

" The fuck kinda question is that, buddy?! " Fasma seethes. " When's the last time YOU had se- "

The breeder tilts his head, daring him to finish that question.

" Nevermind, ye probably fuck every hour. "

A beat of silence passes between them.

" Do... Do you need help? Is it... " Breg makes a vague gesture towards the plasma monster's crotch, uncomfortable. " Does it not...? "

" If ya finish that I'll rat you out to yer human. " Fasma growls. " It works. "

The breeder nods. " So... "

" So? "

The look Breg offers him screams both frustration and disappointment, something that Fasma would usually spare him during most occasions. How the tables have turned. When the large gangly monster starts heading back inside, Fasma hurriedly follows.

" W- Wait, hold on, the fuck are ye doin'? "

The breeder smiles. " I'm gonna ask if she wants to sleep with you. "

" What- Are ya stupid?! That's not how it works! "

But the monster is already closing in on you, determined to make a fool out of the two of them. Before such can happen, the little plasma monster yanks hard on Breg's tail, using all the force his wobbly arms can muster to make the other fall on his face with a painful thump. Everyone inside the bar jolts to glance at them warily, yourself included.

" Eheheh- Oopsie, egghead had a lil' too much ta drink... " There are beads of plasma melting down his face as Breg gives him a stern glare. " Tootsie, do ya think we can reschedule- "

Your face is twisted in discomfort. " Are... Are you two a thing? "

The question freezes him in place. It's asked with a layer of disgust and sadness. And Fasma only now realizes how it may have come off that way for you. Fuckin' Hell, you must have been sending signals left and right and he just didn't pick up on them... You probably think he's gay. And since he spends a good amount of time with Breg instead of trying to get in your pants, you now think he's shagging the breeder.

Fantastic.

How is he going to fix this one?

[ohwowimlonley]

DAY NINETEEN

Luke Alvez + marking kink

[warnings - fem!reader, possessive!luke? I guess, not actually in depth smut, marking kink]

[word count - 540]

[kinktober list]

Luke isn’t the most avid of smilers. He never really has been. Although, he’s also never really been a massive frowner either; almost hovering in between the two.

However, now he’s inexplicably scowling at you, eyes fixed at the base of your neck and collarbones. You pretend not to notice, keeping your gaze set on the movie playing on the tv and subtly tugging the neckline of your spaghetti strap top up to cover the skin he seems so fixated on.

Minutes later, he’s still watching you, eyes burning a whole through your soul. You give up, slapping your hands to your knees and turning to him with an exaggerated grunt.

“What is it?” He blinks, averts his eyes from you, acting as if he wasn’t just staring at you for more than the last thirty minutes. You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to him until you’re close enough to grip his chin, forcing him to meet your eyeline, “Luke, you’ve been gawking at me for the past God knows how long, tell me why you’re acting like a cock or I’ll- I’ll- I’ll send you to bed early! I’ll- you have to do all the washing up for a week!”

“I was just-” he sighs, bites his bottom lip and looks up at you like a lost puppy dog, “m’sorry, love. Just-”

He makes a vague gesture to your exposed neck.

“Luke. Context.” You demand, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shit- yeah, yeah m’sorry,” he shakes his head to himself, clearing his throat and starting over, “I- uh, it’s just,”

You soften a tad, knowing that Luke can’t always express himself in the ways he wants to. Reaching across, you card a hand through his thick tresses of hair, scratching at his scalp to calm him down. He leans into the comfort, drawing in a calming breath.

“It’s just,” he pulls you closer to him, nosing along the underside of your jaw, a whine tumbling from his plump lips, “you’ve been going round all week, ‘nd all of- all of them are gone,”

“Oh,” you gasp. A sly smirk works its way across your face, “oh, you miss my marks, baby?”

A short pause. A slow, shy nod.

“Wanna make more?” You pull back ever so slightly, just so you can catch a glimpse of his lust-blown eyes, before pressing a sweet peck to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathes out shakily, “wanna- wanna make you mine,”

You practically melt at the sentiment, biting your lip to hold back a surprised whimper. Unable to stop yourself, you swing your thigh over his lap, landing yourself astride his thighs.

“Go on then, baby,” you coo down to him, tangling a steadying hand around the back of his head, urging him closer to your bare, unmarked keck, “show ‘em who I belong to,”

You don’t need to tell him twice; his lips latching onto your sensitive skin and giving an almighty suck. As a reflex, your fingers grip tighter around the nape of his neck, no doubt staining the skin with half-moon crescents. You can almost feel the blood rising to the very top layer of your skin, marring it to mark you as his.

Just his.

Taglist - @meadowscarlet @samiam0907 @jessmooneya @tiredmf @baddiewivdafattie @art3mas @bella-738 @aphrodites-flowers @alexloveskili @downbadforvecna @dcwrites1 @masterofmunsonspuppets @youreyesaretherealtruthtellers @m-rae23 @rubesred @visionsgoodgirl @loudwombatmugkid @garfieldsladybird @rubes2323 @maddy-potter @trixcate @depressedjoey @sunnysolsstuf @clover723 @anamariel2301 @01-angela @kozumewhore @britlord @zemossugarbaby @bunnyweasley23 @slashersluttt @ilovejimhopper

[commodorez]

Operating on files purely in the cloud is not always going to be an option to get work done on a computer, and it may not give you the above tree structure.

We all have to get work done on a computer, be it for our dayjobs, school work, and of course general paperwork for surviving in today's modern existence. Paperless society or not, paperwork persists.

Not every document can be filled out in an online form, and even if they did, you probably want digital and physical copies of important documents that you will need later. Tax paperwork, your syllabus for each class, resumes, rental applications, car payments, loans, mortgages, insurance, etc.

You can't always rely on "show recent files" feature of an application to give you a clear indication of that file you just saved [gestures vaguely] somewhere.

You can't always trust that the file search feature is going to be helpful at finding the things you're after.

If you come to rely on these tools, and one day they break after a migration to a new computer or operating system, suddenly you can't find that one PDF talking about your health benefits from when you got that new job 5 years ago.

I know some folks prefer metadata tags on things rather than hunting for the files in question, but that isn't always going to be possible on some systems. Corporate/school environments won't necessarily give you this option. If they want you to go find a file that's kept in shared drive X:, you will need to understand how to traverse their folder structure to go find it. File searches in these situations tend to fail spectacularly, or they go slower than molasses because they aren't all pre-indexed. Up until recently, we had a networked Google drive at my job that Windows file search could not find anything in sooner than 10 minutes.

-

I should define the concept of the desktop (I don't mean like desktop vs. laptop). Much like my file cabinet/folder analogy from before, we'll use a desk concept. Pretend I'm at a school desk and it's the 1960s. I've got a few things in front of me, maybe some colored pencils for drawing. Maybe a nice pen for writing. A calculator slide rule for doing math. Maybe a notebook, a tiny calendar, and a book from the library.

Each of those items are arranged on the top of my desk for easy access. Each one serves a specific purpose, and with my desktop, I can have a few of them out at once if I'm doing work that needs more than one at a time. Maybe I want to read a section in the book to write down notes on paper. Maybe I want to draw a graph with the colored pencils. The idea is that all of these tools are at the ready, easily visible and arrangeable for the task at hand.

So too goes for a computer desktop. I've got icons that are shortcuts to let me start a web browser, a media player, a video game, a text editor, a drawing program. I've got a taskbar at the bottom to keep track of all the things I'm actively doing. I can manage not only my workload, but the computer's workload. All from my desktop! I can even make shortcuts (we'll get to those) to places that I frequently want to visit that have files relevant to what I'm doing.

But more importantly, I can store things on the desktop. It's a just a fancy folder like before. However, I highly recommend against getting into that habit. You could pile every song, picture, and pdf you had on the desktop. And that'd be fine for 10, maybe 50 files at most but if you've got 1000 files? That ain't gonna work.

You especially do not want to store most of your files on the desktop (even in folders you made on the desktop) if you're using a networked domain Windows account (like what you would be issued at work or school). Because it's slow. Every file you save there has to be loaded again on login, which has to come from a central server across a building, or maybe even miles away to get to you. If you aren't always using the same computer each time like I did in college, each time you log in, all of those files may have to be locally cached on that computer before you can start to do anything. I've seen this first hand at my old job, some employees waited like 5 minutes from logging in before they could start doing any work. They had a bad time, until I showed them a better place to keep those files.

Standby for part 3.

Zoomer here, and I do indeed have questions about computers- how do filesystems work, and why should we care (I know we should, but I'm not exactly sure why)?

So why should we care?

You need to know where your own files are.

I've got a file on a flash drive that's been handed to me, or an archival data CD/DVD/Bluray, or maybe it's a big heavy USB external hard drive and I need to make a copy of it on my local machine.

Do I know how to navigate to that portable media device within a file browser?

Where will I put that data on my permanent media (e.i. my laptop's hard drive)?

How will I be able to reliably find it again?

We'll cover more of the Why and How, but this will take some time, and a few addendum posts because I'm actively hitting the character limit and I've rewritten this like 3 times.

Let's start with file structure

Files live on drives: big heavy spinning rust hard drives, solid state m.2 drives, USB flash drives, network drives, etc. Think of a drive like a filing cabinet in an office.

You open the drawer, it's full of folders. Maybe some folders have other folders inside of them. The folders have a little tab with a name on it showing what's supposed to be in them. You look inside the folders, there are files. Pieces of paper. Documents you wrote. Photographs. Copies of pages from a book. Maybe even the instruction booklet that came with your dishwasher.

We have all of that here, but virtualized! Here's a helpful tree structure that Windows provides to navigate through all of that. In the case of Windows, it's called Explorer. On OSX MacOS, the equivalent is called Finder.

I don't have to know where exactly everything is, but I have a good idea where thing *should* based on how I organize them. Even things that don't always expose the file structure to you have one (like my cellphone on the right). I regularly manually copy my files off of my cellphone by going to the Camera folder so I can sift through them on a much bigger screen and find the best ones to share. There are other reasons I prefer to do it that way, but we won't go into that here. Some people prefer to drag and drop, but that doesn't always work the same between operating systems. I prefer cut and paste.

Standby for Part 2!

[crankynewt]

Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

Taglist:

@fanfictionedagain @lam-ila @b0nnyzz @haydieenzzibug @cyanide-mustard @duchess-of-new-shire @the-chocoholic-writer @milenadixon @real-fbi @golddenlioness

[mc-lukanette]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

—————

A few days had passed since Marinette had burned the Adrien photos, and Luka was relieved to note that they hadn't come back since. Marinette seemed equally at ease, their daily calls becoming more and more relaxed with each time she told him about her still-empty wall. He did wish he could do a little more concerning the red string around her neck, but his mind was drawing a blank and she was happier than before regardless.

The main problem however, was the relation to the miraculouses. Everyone knew that Ladybug wasn't interested in Chat Noir, a fact that made the knowledge of the red string even worse. He wasn't sure if the red strings were tied to the miraculouses or not - or how if they were indeed connected - but he speculated that it was about more than just talking to Marinette about Adrien; Chat was a factor as well. He couldn’t imagine the societal pressure of Ladybug and Chat Noir being a couple, and no one had to do much research to realize that Chat Noir was okay with it while Ladybug was very much not.

He'd have to take on the red string from both sides of the masks, and it took one particular day for him to get his chance.

"You want me to go on patrol with you?"

Ladybug nodded, balancing herself on his windowsill as she replied, "If you'd like to. Chat Noir is busy tonight, so the position's opened and you're one of the people used to having a miraculous."

Luka caught himself before he could start smiling too much, knowing that it was Marinette under that mask and she wanted him to go on patrol because they were friends.

"I'd be honored to."

She beamed at him, and after the snake miraculous was on his wrist, he was transformed and the two set off for the rooftops together.

—————

Viperion glanced left and right as he went along with Ladybug. He'd been called enough by then to have gotten used to superheroing, though it was his first time actually on patrol. Given the situation they were in, he was thankful that Adrien was busy that particular night with what Viperion could only guess was Gabriel's orders.

The red string was still dangling around Ladybug's neck, though Viperion'd grown attuned enough with his fate sensing that he could stop focusing on it and simply see her if he chose to. It didn't stop him from thinking about it, but it helped.

Ladybug seemed to know the route to take, so he mostly followed after her, but it was partway through where she'd decided that they should take a break. Paris was always quiet right after akuma attacks, meaning that they could afford to take it easy since there'd been one just that afternoon.

They leaped buildings until they reached the Eiffel Tower, scaling the monument until they reached the top platform. He didn't miss that she'd avoided using her yoyo for the job, possibly to put them on an even playing field.

Letting out a breath, Ladybug leaned against the railing and she gazed over the city. Gesturing to the view, she explained, "We'll have a good vantage point from here in case anything happens."

Viperion chuckled. "You really do think of everything."

She blushed faintly, but took the compliment casually. "I'm just doing my job." She turned her hip to more easily grab her yoyo, then opened it and reached inside. "Anyway, are you hungry?"

He tilted his head in curiosity, then grinned as she pulled out a bag of macarons from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. It wasn't anything suspicious given that it was known as the best bakery around.

"Thanks," he replied gratefully, taking one of the macarons she offered him.

She grabbed one as well and they took a simultaneous bite of their respective treats. He was a little surprised to hear that she brought along snacks, but supposed it made sense if breaks during patrol were a common thing after akuma.

They settled down on the ground, Ladybug placing the open bag in-between them so they could pick them out at equal leisure. Tossing him an apologetic but teasing smile, she added, "Sorry, but cushions wouldn't fit in the yoyo."

He raised his brows at her, then glanced down at the hard ground below them. He snorted at her joke, noting, "It's nice to see you outside of akuma battles, where you can relax and play around more."

She smiled shyly at him, in a way that was so Marinette that he couldn't believe he hadn't figured her out sooner. "Thanks. Chat says I have no sense of humor."

He frowned, replying without hesitation, "Chat's wrong."

She waved him off, though he could tell that she appreciated the comment. Hearing that Chat had told her something like that was news to him, despite all the research he'd done into their relationship. Granted, he imagined that anything could be said off-camera and he couldn't have known.

"Does he say things like that a lot?" he asked, hoping he wasn't prodding too much. There was just something about how casually she'd said it that unnerved him.

"Huh?" She blinked, thrown off by the question, then rubbed the back of her neck. "Well... most of the time, he flirts instead. It's..." She hesitated, like she wasn't sure that she could talk about it. Glancing at him, then back to the open sky, she relented and added, "—it's a lot sometimes, but he does his job well enough, so it’s not like it’s a serious problem. I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve never wondered about the what ifs of having someone else, but whenever I think about it, I just—"

She squinted at nothing, Viperion's gaze flickering down to the string, which had became visible now that he was focusing on it.

It had tightened, pressing into the black of her bodysuit in a way only he could see, and he found himself squinting just like she was.

"—I can't imagine being Ladybug without him," she said.

He pressed his lips together, trying to suppress any reaction to the comment. He'd suspected it for a while, but actually seeing it was something else entirely.

The red string demanded dependency on Ladybug's part. He wasn't sure how much it pulled Chat on the other end, but judging from what he'd gathered from Marinette's luck and fate's blatant favoring of Adrien, he could guess.

Ladybug peeked up from her macaron when he remained silent, confusion passing over her features. "What? You look like you have something to say."

"Ah—" He looked down, brows furrowing as he hoped even more that he wasn't pushing boundaries. "—just... I know that he's been with you since the beginning, but I don’t think you need Chat Noir to be an amazing Ladybug."

She straightened, dropping her treat in surprise and then fumbling to catch it. Perhaps she hadn’t caught onto what her words implied, or had said them without thinking due to the string and was now facing it head-on.

He continued, "You've dealt with akuma plenty of times without him, and you work well with all your heroes. I'm sure you could make the best out of any partner you had." He smiled reassuringly at her. "Maybe Chat Noir only seems as good as he does because he's at your command."

Ladybug's cheeks tinted red, nearly matching her mask, as she ducked her head at the high praise. She raised the macaron back to her lips, chewing on it as if that helped hide her face.

It was only after she'd slowly nibbled the treat all the way down and swallowed that she replied, "T-thank you."

He shrugged, having only been honest.

"Chat Noir..." She cleared her throat. "Well, Paris would disagree with you."

"Paris is wrong too," he replied in the exact same tone as when he was discussing Chat. After careful consideration, he asked cautiously, "Do you mean how—"

"Yeah, the—" She frowned and waved both hands vaguely in a gesture that no one but him would've understood. "Yeah."

So she was all too aware of their status of a "couple" in the eyes of Parisians. It made sense with everything he already knew, but he hadn't wanted to be right.

The phrase she'd used when talking about Adrien resurfaced in his mind: made for each other.

He clenched his fist. She was being pressured on both sides of the mask, towards both sides of Adrien's mask.

"I don't like it," she admitted, "but Chat drinks it up and I guess the public is into the idea of this superhero couple. They see us like celebrities."

"It's not right," Viperion hissed, and Sass would've been proud of it. "You save Paris every week and you deserve to be respected."

"There's nothing I can do about it," she told him, almost in defeat. "Besides, Chat... he needs a pick-me-up every now and my pep talks don't always work on him. He pouted when I brought in a male hero for the first time."

"That's not your fault!" he argued. "Chat needs to be confident on his own. He can't keep relying on you or make you feel like you can't do anything without him doubting himself. You're under enough stress as it is, and—!"

He caught himself, his mouth shutting tight before he could reveal exactly how much he knew. Ladybug blinked at him, seeming puzzled by the outburst but not suspicious at least.

He took a breath, reminding himself to stay calm. Reaching back, he grabbed hold of his lyre and brought it in front of him, strumming a few notes and letting them settle the discordant song that was playing in his stomach.

"My point is... Chat shouldn't be someone adding onto the pressure. That's not a partnership."

Her shoulders relaxed, her eyes darting around as she processed his words. She looked conflicted.

"...I'm sorry," he added, settling his lyre in his lap. "Not for what I said, but—I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"No, no." She shook her head, pulling her knees to her chest. "It's good that you did. I've actually—" Her voice grew quiet. "—been thinking about it lately."

"About what?"

She made the same vague gesture from before. "All of that. There's been a lot going on and it's given me a lot to think about."

He knew immediately what she meant.

"It's... frustrating," she groaned. "I don't like Chat that way. I mean, maybe sometimes he said or did something that I found charming, but that's just—not enough for me, you know? To only feel something like that for a second or two." She averted her gaze, growing distant. "Everyone seems to think we belong together, and... I hate that they might be right."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Well, I'm a hero; a permanent one. I need to be there all the time. Every akuma, every purification, every Miraculous Ladybug. Only I can do it." She hugged her legs closer, burying her face in her knees. "I want a relationship. I want someone to date and be close to, but I can't have it. I'm always running away; always going somewhere with some excuse so I can go deal with the akuma, and I can't tell anyone! Can you imagine how that'd make my date feel?"

He opened his mouth, but a thought occurred to him at the last second that gave him pause.

"You... so you think..."

Once again, he hoped to be wrong. He wanted so badly to be wrong.

But Ladybug looked up, her expression pained as she confirmed, "There's only one person I could be with where it wouldn't have to happen."

His blood ran cold, he felt sick, and the memory of the red string flashed in his mind, wrapped around Adrien's ring.

Fate didn't just tie her to him; it wanted to make her believe that he was her only choice.

Viperion's grip on his lyre tightened, his teeth grinding together behind closed lips as he tried to maintain an aura of calm. He wasn't just angry anymore, he was livid, and he silently wished that the face on the other side of the butterfly miraculous was the universe so he could give it a piece of his mind.

How could you do that? How could you take a girl who's always worked so hard and tried her best, and treat her like she's nothing? No, not nothing, because then at least she'd be left alone. How could you treat her like a plaything, as if she's some prize for a guy to win no matter what? How could you manipulate her to think that everything's her fault, just so she never thinks to fight back against the ones putting pressure on her?

What's love if it's gotten through such force?

"V-viperion?"

A hand falling upon his jolted him back to reality, his head snapping up to see Ladybug there, her pupils shrunken in and her brows knitted in worry. Whatever his face had looked like, it'd scared her.

His first instinct was to feel guilty. He was supposed to be comforting her, not making things worse by letting all of his emotions show on his face.

His second instinct...

He tossed his lyre off to the side, Ladybug's gaze briefly following it until his hands fell upon her shoulders. Her eyes widened, and she let out a squeak as he pulled her onto his lap and into a hug.

The only thing he was grateful for in terms of her superhero status was that he could hug her as tightly as possible without hurting her.

"A-ah..." She seemed tempted to say something, but fell silent soon after and hugged him back, burying her face into the side of his neck. He felt her strength in the way she squeezed him, like she was starved for his affection despite them being in a similar position not too long ago.

He understood. Before, they were tackling her problems when she was Marinette, but Ladybug had never had someone to personally confide in concerning Chat.

She'd needed this.

"You already do so much," he whispered. "You should be allowed to be with whoever you want, and you shouldn't have to settle when it comes to love."

She sighed against him, like she knew deep down that he was right. "You don't know how bad it could get. Some hypothetical boyfriend wouldn't deserve that kind of treatment."

"I get why you'd feel that way," he said, "but I'd hope that this hypothetical boyfriend would know that you're worth it."

Her fingers twitched against his spine. "...You don't even know me."

"I know that you're creative. I know you're smart. I know you work harder than anyone else to keep Paris safe. I know you have a right to feel however you want, and if you think you need to earn being with someone who's not Chat, then you've more than done that." He slid his hand up to squeeze her shoulder. "I also know that you'll find a way to make it work, if you put in even half the care into it as you put into Paris."

"Vi—" She paused, her voice softening. "Luka..."

They stayed like that for a while, the bag of macarons going untouched an arm's reach away. Viperion just held her, sensing that she was feeling out what he'd said and that they didn't need words for it. That was fine with him; her love life was none of his business. He only wanted to help her have the choice to live it.

A breeze blew by, their bodysuits protecting them from the wind chill factor as their hair was lightly shifted by the gentle air. Ladybug stirred, letting out a noise like she felt personally slighted by the wind, then pushed herself up, her hands on his shoulders as she pulled away from him.

"We...we should get back to patrol," she admitted.

He offered her a small smile, noting that she seemed to be in better spirits at least. "Alright." He let her out of his lap, leaning over to the side to pick up his lyre.

He heard her retreating footsteps, along with a light, "You can keep the macarons."

He glanced up at her, surprised. "Are you sure?" he asked, knowing that he was mostly responsible for them not eating all of them. "Is that what you usually do on your breaks: let Chat have them?"

"Oh." She stood awkwardly in place, looking off at the sky before dropping her gaze to the ground. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she grinned sheepishly and replied, "Actually..."

He tilted his head, curious.

She peeked over at him, eyes half-lidded as she told him, "I've never done this with Chat."

He raised his brows, as if that would make her clarify, but she simply turned away from him and started doing a few stretches, clearly prepping to head back out.

Pursing his lips in thought, Viperion turned his back to her, giving attention to the little plastic bag resting neatly on the ground. Even though it was open, the little ribbon that had held it shut was still around it, suddenly feeling more special now that Ladybug had said something so... cryptic.

He looked out at the view they had, then Ladybug, then back at the bag, feeling extremely slow on the uptake as his brain pieced things together based on what information he had.

Then, suddenly his brain supplied: Wait... was this a date?

He buried the thought just as quickly, shaking his head and scolding himself for jumping to that so fast.

"Are you ready to go back to leaping rooftops?" Ladybug asked behind him, her tone light even if she was still in her own head.

"Yeah," Viperion replied, picking up the little bag like it was something precious. Hoping to lighten things further, he then added, "I'm new to this, so I might lag behind."

She chuckled. "You might. Apparently I'm a really amazing hero according to someone I know."

He grinned to himself. Even if she was just teasing, it felt good to hear her compliment herself in a way.

He had just tightened the ribbon to seal the bag back up, listening to the sound of Ladybug's foosteps, when he felt a sudden niggling sensation at the back of his head, or—behind him? He turned, puzzled, then leaped up as he caught sight of a teal wisp in Ladybug's path.

He rushed over as she yelped and tripped over what would seem like nothing according to her. Catching her just in time, he also realized belatedly that it may've been an overreaction, given that she was in superhero form; he could only blame it on reflex.

Ladybug stood up with a start, covering the lower half of her face in shame. "Ugh, that was so embarrassing, I'm sor—"

"It's not your fault," he hurried to say, not explaining further as he grew lost in thought, staring silently at the place where the wisp had formed itself.

He hadn't just seen the wisps this time; he had sensed them. That was new, and he wouldn't have questioned a new addition to his fate sensing had it not been the fact that he hadn't particularly done anything as Viperion; it usually took an instance or two of him using his power for something to manifest, but here...

He glanced up when he realized that Ladybug was looking at him curiously. Debating with himself for a moment, he ultimately trusted his gut and met her gaze, asking,

"Do you mind if I talk to Sass again after this?"