#i already know that inquisition will most definitely disappoint me and i have not a lot of faith for da4 but

[vigilskeep]

avoiding most reviews like crazy for fear of spoilers, however I’m scared that some have said that rook can do no wrong even when picking the most aggressive impolite options, there’s never any social consequences for *choosing* to be rude, or even dismissing others worldviews and beliefs.

i will say a lot about inquisition, but at least it let the player have complicated relationships with the party by not having everyone agree to everything they say as the word of god

us getting to have complicated relationships with the party in dragon age inquisition is, frankly, news to me

personally i’ve seen more of people suggesting you can’t be as rude in the first place, than people saying the game doesn’t react when you are? to which i have to say, yes, interactions with the party are going to be different in veilguard than in previous dragon age games. they’re writing a protagonist who the plot requires to be more of a hero type who chose to join this venture, every party member is essential to the main plot, and they’re openly going for a “found family” dynamic, which (i would strongly argue) they’ve never done before. the group is intended to work as a whole, to be people who all care about each other, rather than simply being tied together by your player character. you’re not going to have a situation like in every other game where companions can get thrown out or betrayed or aggressively belittled by the protagonist, because this party simply would not work if you were doing that to certain members. the story they are telling this time would not make sense

however, i’m yet to see that that means we can’t have complicated relationships with the companions? in fact, we know it allows for main plot choices with lasting, drastic consequences on our relationships with certain companions. we know you can disagree with characters and still progress your relationships with them. there are new opportunities that we never had in previous games for all companions to be closely involved in what’s going on, and thus for all companions to have opinions that matter on all of rook’s decisions. i’ve already seen footage of companion commentary absolutely not holding back on challenging even relatively small choices

i think challenges from this style of companion can be very compelling in their own way. if all these companions are considered equally good-aligned by the narrative and care about each other, and they still sharply disagree, it suggests fewer conflicts with simple right answers. i think that could be a breath of fresh air from previous dragon age games which have often and regularly fallen into the trap of “obvious good answer” and “the answer your slightly evil companions will like”. there’s a reason so many worldstate decisions and quest endings are overwhelmingly popular, right? isn’t it possible it will be just as interesting to engage with a story where you are definitively written as good-aligned, but that means you get real choices between options just as justifiable as each other—or as bad as each other?

it’s a change so it’s by nature not going to be for everyone. you’re not going to be able to play certain kinds of character that you could in previous games and if that’s what you were looking for in another da game, that’s a disappointment. but i don’t think dragon age should necessarily be restricted by that forever? like i don’t think it’s necessarily conducive to good storytelling to always have to input evil/mean options and reactivity just for the sake of it. and i completely understand why it would be detrimental to the game they’ve chosen to make this time. their primary selling point and concept is the complex team dynamics. can you imagine the sheer bulk of writing it would take to have these companions as thoroughly invested in each other’s lives as they seem to be, and let you be horrible to particular ones? for how many players’ benefit? for what story coherency, when building these relationships is the plot of the game? i don’t really see the point

that’s how i feel about it idk. i’m optimistic. i also don’t rlly think jumping to conclusions at this point is worthwhile. the reviews are largely positive. it’s coming out in a day and a half. let’s just wait and see?

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Going off her streams Lily really seems to like Veilguard, what's your opinion on the game? (I'm sorry I never caught your gaming streams pls don't hit me)

It's... complicated. At the beginning of last year I was sure Dragon Age was dead for good when I heard Mary Kirby had been let go from the company. And I still have no faith in any future installments, especially with Sylvia Feketekuty now also leaving the company.

(For context: Kirby is the writer of Varric and was the lore keeper for Orlais and the Qunari. Feketekuty wrote Josephine, Emmrich, Hezenkoss and a good chunk of the Mourn Watch.)

So on the one hand I liked getting most of my lore answers from Veilguard and I really like the gameplay. I had a blast playing rogue especially (haven't quite warmed up to mage, might try warrior).

On the other hand... it's undeniable the writing is a downgrade. Which is unfortunate because that's typically the best part of these games and why the fans love them. And it was likely interference from "sensitivity reader" types or some of the team self-censoring for the same motive.

We finally see Tevinter, where slavery is infamously legal and a key part of their Roman Empire-like social and ruling structure, but we saw more of the horrors of slavery in past games than in Veilguard.

I played an elf and would have conversations with Davrin about how elves are discriminated against but I never once experienced it. Give me that conversation in Ostagar in DA:O where the quartermaster assumes I'm a servant because I'm an elf and I get to be really really Dalish at the ignorant shem. Or that conversation where you can make Leliana sweat with shem guilt as she tries to assure you some elven servants are REALLY well paid in Orlais like fr. Hell give me even Fenris rolling his eyes at being called a manservant in Mark of the Assassin.

They definitely sanded off rough edges in other places too. The Crows, or at least the Crows in Treviso, are suddenly not as ruthless and don't torture kids to turn the survivors into trained assassins. Other aspects like them being akin the to assassin's guild in Discworld and basically controlling large portions of the country were already there though.

And then just the dialog and character interaction. Yes I'm afraid to inform you everyone talks to each other like HR trained co-workers at a business convention in LA.

And then there's Taash. The true blight on the ass of this series. I dunno what the fuck happened there. I know Patrick Weekes started identifying as non-binary like 4 years ago but even "woke" brain worms couldn't make someone's writing take THAT much of a catastrophic nosedive. Especially since Solas' writing is still intact.

Someone else must have come in and gave it all a terrible rewrite, and you can kind of tell because there seems to be scenes missing from the plotline and a far superior child of an immigrant story peeking out from underneath.

So overall a very flawed game, disappointing in many ways, but it does have some flashes of brilliance in places and fantastic gameplay. I'm glad we at least got something after they left the franchise languishing for 10 years and cancelled the 4th installment twice despite Inquisition having Bioware's highest first two week sales ever.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Cupcakes, Fairy Lights and One Undead Army

It's Halloween for the Bad Batch

A fluffy Modern AU

@saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @the-bi-space-ace

Halloween fic is finally here! Pat on the back to me for not making this super depressing

Cold, dead eyes stared back at him. Deep and black and a stark contrast to the pasty white of the rest of the face. An unmoving grin of uncovered teeth stretched across the front of the jaw and up towards the cheeks. Echo looked death in the face. And he smiled.

"What are you looking at?"

"Just enjoying the new paint job."

"Oh shut it, Echo." Crosshair rolled his eyes. "I'll have you know that I didn't ask for this. I was forced against my will."

"Like hell you were." Echo chuckled and shot his brother a smug grin. "You know you're enjoying this."

"Says the one who hasn't been painted to look like his insides are on the outside. How did you get out of this anyway?" Crosshair pointed an accusatory toothpick in Echo's direction before putting it between skeletal teeth. The dark paint on his lower lip had already begun to smudge.

"Because I'm not the one taking Omega trick or treating." In all honesty, Echo was a little disappointed about not going, but he was more vulnerable to the cold now than he was before the accident and unless he wanted to walk around the neighbourhood wrapped up in thirty coats and fifteen layers of mittens, he would have to stay indoors. Maybe he could dress up as a marshmallow next year. Or just hope that they didn't have a repeat cold spell. "And someone has to stay home and make the cupcakes." At that, he hit away the large hand that had crept round towards the bowl in front of him. "Leave the chocolate chips alone, Wrecker."

"Awwww. But they're so good!"

"I know! Which is why they're for the cakes. If you eat them all now, then there won't be any left." Echo chuckled and turned to look at his brother, finding that he was now leaning on the counter, wrapped in his ghost-patterned jumper and thick orange socks tucked under loose trousers. He had a stolen marshmallow in his mouth. "Really?"

Wrecker just grinned and turned to look at Crosshair. "Looking good, Cross! When are you gonna put the face paint on?"

"Oh ha ha." The other let out a sarcastic laugh and rolled his eyes again, chewing on his toothpick. One day he would get splinters in his tongue and his brothers would one hundred percent all laugh at him for it.

"Where's Megs?" Echo asked, eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"Tech is helping her with her costume. Hunter's sorting out his own face."

As if summoned by his words, Omega came barrelling down the stairs and into the kitchen, Tech and Hunter trailing after, also decked out in black and white paint. Omega was draped in lightly glittered navy fabric, a dark hooded cape and a thick belt adorned with trinkets and fake bones. She'd insisted on a necromancer vibe this year, hence the skeleton army currently traipsing around the house. Tech had taken particular care in making sure her costume was in top shape this year (and every year previous). She ground to a halt just before she collided with the dining table, struck her arms wide and spun in a circle. "What do you think?"

"Looking great, Megs! The most powerful necromancer out there!" Wrecker went over and scooped her into a tight hug. Echo went and joined them.

"You look awesome, kid." He ruffled her hair and she batted his hand away, giggling. It was then that Echo noticed the eyeliner. Neat and precise. Definitely Crosshair's handiwork. 'Forced against my will' my ass Echo thought and laughed to himself. "Now go and get some treats before there are none left. You've got competition this year. I hear Padme and Anakin are taking the twins out for the first time."

Just as fast as she'd arrived, Omega disappeared into the corridor to slip her shoes on.

"Well, I guess we should start making a move." Hunter said. "You two going to be okay here?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. You lot go and have fun."

Hunter nodded and turned to join Omega in the hallway, closely followed by Crosshair, who gave them a loose two-finger salute before departure. Tech went to go with them before turning towards Wrecker. "Thanks for letting me go this time. I know you don't like missing out on this." He nudged his glasses up his painted nose.

"No worries, Tech! There'll always be next year. Go and have fun. And make sure to bring loads of goodies back!" Tech smiled in response and left the kitchen.

Echo knew that Wrecker had wanted to go again this year, but the others always felt bad about leaving Echo home alone, despite his insistence that he'd be fine. They argued that unless all of them went (as they had done their first year with Omega), no man would be left behind. Last year Tech had stayed, and the year before that, Cross. They took it in turns and this time Wrecker chose to be the one to join him. Echo appreciated the company.

He heard the door shut, cutting off Omega's excited ramblings, and reached up with his left hand to adjust his beanie, a grey one with a pumpkin embroidered on the front that Omega had gifted him last year. He turned to his brother. "Hey, Wreck? Hunter went to put the lights up earlier and they weren't working. Think you could tinker with them a bit? See if you can get them functioning again?"

"Sure thing! The pumpkin ones or the ghosts?"

"Both. Neither of them wanted to do anything today. I think they're just old now. We've had them for a few years."

"I'll go and have a look. I'm sure I can get them up and running in no time!" Wrecker gave him a charismatic smile and made his way to the living room, but not without stealing another marshmallow from the counter first. Echo gave him a half-hearted smack on the elbow, smiling as he heard Wrecker's deep laugh bounce down the corridor.

It was definitely nice to have someone in the house with him. Growing up, there had always been people with him at this time of year. First him and Fives, and then even more when the Batch had moved in. How 99 had managed to corral so many kids around the house and take them all trick or treating without losing any of them was anyone's guess. Their adoptive father was the best. Nights like this reminded Echo of the chaos of Halloween during their younger years, especially with Omega, who had the same amount of energy as Fives had done back then.

The same amount of energy he had now, in all honesty. His twin had had to move abroad for work shortly after their honourable discharge from the military and as a result they didn't see each other nearly as often as they hoped. There were always promises from each side to visit the other, but conflicting schedules seemed to put a stop to every plan before they ever truly got off the ground. Echo made a mental note to give him a call later when the others were back. Until then, he was on important cupcake duty.

He heard music coming from the living room and realised Wrecker had stuck on his carefully curated Halloween playlist to run in the background while he worked. It had been changed and edited several times over the last few months so that it could, as Wrecker put it, have 'the perfect spooky vibes with the right balance of fun'. Echo didn't mind. It gave him something to listen to as he made a start on the cupcakes. And maybe he bust out a few dance moves in the kitchen, but who was to say?

✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴

By the time Echo had the cupcakes made and cooling in the kitchen, Wrecker had managed to fix both sets of fairy lights and draped the pumpkins up the bannister on the stairs and the ghosts around the living room. He and Echo were sprawled out on the sofa, each wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, basking in the glow of the lights and the TV. They had made it part way through Beetlejuice when the door unlocked and Omega came darting into the living room, leaving behind a trail of treats that had fallen out of her bag in her haste. "Look how much we got this year!" She was practically bouncing off the walls.

"Yes, it was certainly a very successful evening. I believe we have exceeded last years haul by approximately a third." Tech added, giving his two brothers a smile. His face-paint was still so neat and precise it looked like it had been applied mere seconds ago, unlike Hunter's, which was starting to go grey where the colours had blended. It was probably a result of his habit of running a hand down his face every time he sighed (a thing which happened very often whenever Crosshair was around). Why he had even bothered to paint a skull onto his face when he already had one permanently inked on was anyones guess. He was picking up the sweets Omega had left on the floor and Echo could hear Crosshair kicking his shoes off in the hall as his characteristic snarky drone chipped in with a "Yeah, and with that much sugar she'll be running around on the ceiling."

"I think she might already be at that point." Hunter sighed and gave a soft chuckle, tucking away some of the strands of hair that had come loose from his bandana. "How about you go and take your shoes off, Megs. Then we can finish the film with these guys." He put the treats back in the bag and slumped down next to Echo, head tilted on the back of the sofa.

"Fun evening?" Echo quipped.

"I'm getting too old for this. I can't keep up with the energy anymore."

"Oh come on, Hunter. If you're old then what does that make me?"

Hunter looked at Echo and grinned. "Positively ancient."

Echo would have shoved him over sideways at that remark, but Hunter had sat down on his right side so the best he could do was aggressively jab him in the shoulder with the end of his stump. Hunter laughed.

"I'm gonna go and make hot chocolate!" Wrecker announced and hopped off the sofa. "Mind giving me a hand, Tech?"

"Of course."

Crosshair seized the opportunity, slinking past his brothers as they went through the doorway and stealing Wrecker's spot, wrapping the discarded blanket around his shoulders. "You been okay, Echo?"

"Yep! Haven't had as many trick or treaters as I thought we would, so it's relatively quiet. I'm thinking of giving Fives a call later as well. I'm sure he would want to see Omega's costume this year."

"Oh goodie." Crosshair said sarcastically. "I haven't spoken to that knucklehead in a while."

"You know you love him really."

"You say that, but he's your twin and I think that speaks for itself."

"Just like I said, you love him."

"I think you two need to be forensically analysed."

Echo just shook his head, smiling.

"We're gonna call Fives?" Omega said excitedly as she wiggled between the two and tucked herself under Echo's arm.

"Sure, kid. I'll set up the video chat when we're decorating the cupcakes. Sound good?"

"Uh huh!" Omega nodded and turned to the film in front of her.

✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴〰✴

They finished the movie, wrapped up in more blankets, empty hot chocolate mugs scattered on the floor and coffee table in front of them. Omega sprung off of the sofa as soon as the credits started rolling. "Okay, cupcake time!"

"Jeez, Megs. How have you still got this much energy?" Hunter groaned, practically half asleep. He'd ended up almost lying down with his head on the arm rest.

"Because her bloodstream is almost completely sugar." Tech said. "If she actually falls asleep tonight I'll be impressed." Hunter groaned again and sunk lower into his seat.

"And so our mighty leader has fallen. Defeated by a small child."

"I'm glad you're enjoying my misery, Cross."

"It's what keeps me going." Crosshair shot him a sly grin and jabbed a toothpick in his direction. "And it's why going trick or treating with you is so entertaining."

Echo couldn't help but chip in. "I thought you were forced against your will?"

"Shut it, Echo, or I'll smother you with your beanie."

"I'd like to see you try."

"All bark and no bite, Crossy."

"What did you just call me?"

"Nothing." He said smugly. Crosshair's eyes narrowed and Echo continued. "But if you're too scared to defend your honour then..."

"Oh you are on!" Crosshair lunged at Echo, reaching to grab onto the grey fabric. Echo dodged and tumbled backwards, laughing, trying to keep his brother away with his one available arm. Hunter groaned as Echo's head collided with his stomach and then groaned again when Crosshair joined the dogpile.

"Really, you two? Can't a man get any peace around here?"

"Hey, my life is at stake here!" Echo giggled as he continue to grapple with the man above him. "I'm protecting myself!"

"And I'm trying to protect my kidneys! Move your head!" Echo just tilted his head even further back into Hunter to avoid Crosshair's grasping hands. He was pretty sure his skull was starting to dig into Hunter's ribs at this point and the latter was unlikely to be happy about it.

"Technically, your kidneys are towards the back of your body, so Echo's head poses very little risk to them."

"Okay thanks Tech but I don't really want any of my internal organs squashed right now!"

Suddenly, Echo's hat disappeared off his head. "Huh? what the-"

"Hey, Cross. Catch!" Crosshair sat up and grabbed the hat from the air as Wrecker threw it towards him.

"Oh come on!" Echo exclaimed. "That's cheating!"

Crosshair waved the hat just out of Echo's reach. "It's called teamwork, brother." Echo gave him a playful shove and watch him retreat to the other side of the room, before pushing himself off Hunter and standing up.

"Oh thank God for tha-" Hunter's sentence was interrupted as the stolen beanie smacked him in the face. "Seriously?" Crosshair laughed at him. "I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with you lot."

"Send them back to 99?" Tech asked jokingly.

"Don't tempt me." Hunter stood up and put the hat back on Echo's head, pulling it down far enough that it covered his eyes. "Come on, children. Megs wants cupcakes." The girl in question was waiting in the doorway, thoroughly amused by the events taking place. They were supposed to be the mature ones here and clearly they were demonstrating that very well.

They all migrated to the kitchen, Crosshair, Hunter, and Tech sitting down by the table, while Echo, Wrecker and Omega pulled all of the cupcake decorating supplies together (or what was left of them at least, as Wrecker stole yet another marshmallow from the bag). Echo grabbed the buttercream he had made from the fridge and placed the bowl in front of Omega before pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling his brother. No response. Echo hadn't actually checked with his twin to see if he was available tonight and there was a good chance the man was busy at some Halloween party and wouldn't respond until he was too drunk (or too hungover) to get back to him with any level of coherence. Echo placed his phone down and leant on the counter to watch the cupcake decorating.

Wrecker and Omega seemed to have set up a little system, with the latter piping neat swirls on each cake and her brother delicately placing decorations on each one. People assumed that because of his large size, Wrecker struggled with fiddly tasks. In fact, the opposite was true. He had as good as control as the rest of them, if not better, and could make some of the best damned Halloween cupcakes the world had ever seen. This year was a mix of Frankenstein's monster and little marshmallow ghosts. Echo laughed when he noticed Omega's tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration.

*Thunk*

He glanced towards the other three and found that Hunter had slumped over with his arms crossed on the table and his head tucked between them. Crosshair poked him in the side of the head with a slender finger. Hunter let out a muffled groan of annoyance. A smirk appeared on Crosshair's face, which grew even bigger when he noticed tech taking a picture of their brother. At the sound of Tech's phone camera, Hunter responded again, this time with actual words (though more into the table than to the person opposite him).

"Did you just take a picture of me?"

Tech paused for a second before simply stating "Maybe".

"Tech..."

"I am simply documenting this Halloween. It's what families do."

"Why don't you take a picture of Omega then?"

"Because you being this exhausted is objectively hilarious."

"Shut up, Crosshair."

"And we can use it as blackmail."

"Crosshair." Crosshair just poked him again.

Before Hunter could complain to the table anymore, Echo's phone started ringing. Fives.

"Hey, brother!" The welcome was immediate as Fives' face appeared in frame. He was dressed head to toe in tattered grey clothes and appeared to have painted his skin and hair a mottled grey as well.

"Were you going somewhere or did a bag of flour fall on your head again?"

"Okay, first of all, that only happened once! And yes, I am in fact going somewhere thank you very much. We have a work Halloween party."

"Thought you would have gone with something more eccentric. A ghost seems pretty tame for you."

"Eh, I just didn't have the time this year." Fives dropped down onto a sofa. "I considered going as you before your morning coffee but I decided it probably wouldn't be a good idea to terrify my colleagues that much."

Echo propped his phone up on the middle of the counter and gave Fives the middle finger. Fives simply poked his tongue out in response before adding "What're you guys all up to this evening?"

"Cupcakes!" Omega yelled excitedly, popping up next to Echo in the bottom corner of the screen. She had a smudge of green across her cheek where she had likely rubbed it with a frosting-covered hand.

"Hell yeah! That sounds awesome. Wish I was there. I'd kill to have Echo's baking again."

"Wish you were here too, Fives." Omega said. "Are you going to be visiting soon?

"I'll try, kiddo. I'm a little tied up with work at the moment but I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise times a thousand." Fives smiled, but Echo could tell there was a slight sadness in his eyes. He knew that moving away from his family hadn't been easy for him, or for the rest of them. However, the emotion was gone almost immediately. "How about we talk about how awesome you look, Megs? The costume rocks!" Omega stepped back and spun in a circle to let Fives see her outfit better.

"Thank you! Tech helped!"

"Haha, sounds about right." Fives said.

"We've got skeletons all over the house this year because, apparently, what this family really needs is an undead army." Echo added, chuckling, and he flipped the camera to show the three sat at the table, faces still painted like skulls. Although, what was left of Hunter's couldn't be seen as it was still buried in his arms.

"Haha looking good, fellas! It's almost an improvement!" Fives jested before his tone gained an edge of playful inquisitiveness. "Everything okay with the Sergeant?"

"He got defeated by a child on a sugar high." Crosshair said.

"Aw, come on brother! I thought you were more resilient than that!" Hunter merely responded by flipping Fives the bird without lifting his head from the table.

"Wow. So mean." Fives' face contorted into mock upset.

"Don't mind him. He's just coming to terms with the fact that he's getting old." Quipped Tech before Echo followed with a "I think we might be sending him to an early grave."

Fives couldn't resist chiming in again. "We should paint half a skeleton on his coffin! It would look so cool!"

"And tie a bandana round it!" Wrecker added enthusiastically.

"I hate all of you." Came Hunter's reply.

They stayed in the kitchen until all of the cupcakes were done, at which point they decided to migrate back to the living room. Tech had to practically peel Hunter off of the table. The Sergeant's paint was becoming so smudged he looked closer in colour to Fives and had lost most of the characteristics of the skull. Echo made a mental note to remind his brother to wash the paint off later before he woke up to find what would look like the remains of Casper the Friendly Ghost streaked across his pillow.

It didn't take long for more bickering to ensue and for Echo to smear frosting on Crosshair's face. His brother responded by wiping it away and then licking his finger clean, grimacing at the chalky taste of the paint that came off with it. A little bit of flesh poked through at the tip of his nose. "You're a menace, Echo."

Echo gave a dramatic gasp and put his hand to his chest. "How dare you make such unsubstantiated accusations. I'm the older and far more mature one here."

"Debatable."

"Thanks for the support, Tech."

"Mature? Certainly not. Old? Definitely." Tech gave a cheeky grin.

"Okay, that's alright, Tech. You don't need to say any more."

"I don't know. I think he does." Crosshair quipped.

"I really think he doesn't."

"Well, I do have a list of every time Echo has-" Echo threw his balled up cupcake case at Tech's head.

"Wait, are those the times-"

"Fives!"

"Okay, okay. If you don't want me to talk about it-"

"I really don't."

"Boring!" Crosshair exclaimed.

"Don't make me smear frosting on your face again."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

A glaring match ensued between Echo and Crosshair, which lasted far longer than it probably should have before Fives intervened. "Okay, children. Settle down. It's a holiday. Don't kill each other now."

"Shut up, Fives." Crosshair said, although there was no actual aggression in his voice. "Weren't you supposed to be going somewhere?"

"I was, but some people, not naming names, decided to start an argument. Someone has to mediate you lot."

"Oh come on, Fives. If you were here, there would be frosting smeared on every piece of furniture in this house and the next." Echo said.

"You wound me brother."

"Okay. You can piss off now."

"How rude!" Another exclamation of fake hurt from Fives. "And using this kind of language around Omega as well."

"I've heard worse!" Omega chimed in before taking another bite of her cupcake.

"Ten out of ten parenting guys, well done."

"Hey! I distinctly remember you being told off by 99 on multiple occasions for your less than stellar language." Echo retorted.

"Yes, but I also wasn't in charge of a child, so it doesn't count." Fives argued, smugly.

"Are you going or not?" Crosshair asked.

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Yes."

"Okay, okay. Fine!" Fives held a hand up in surrender. "I'll see you guys around, okay?" A chorus of goodbyes circled round the room (or in Hunter's case, an incoherent noise and a weak wave of his hand). "I'll call you in a couple weeks, Echo."

"Sounds good. And give 99 a ring too. He's desperate to say hi again." Echo grinned. "Take care."

"Of course." Fives smiled and gave a salute before the call ended.

"Your brother is so weird." Crosshair said.

"He's your brother too."

"Don't remind me."

Echo picked up Crosshair's discarded cupcake wrapper, scrunched it up, and threw it at his head.

"Seriously? Are you going to do that to everyone?" Echo just smiled and Crosshair rolled his eyes, already sticking another toothpick in his mouth.

"Can we watch Monster House?" Omega asked, mouth full of cake.

"Hell yeah!" Wrecker said. "I love that film." Echo had to agree that it was a good choice, even if it was creepier than any movie made for kids should probably be. (That film had given Fives nightmares for weeks when he first saw it. Echo would have found it far more amusing if he wasn't missing out on his own sleep because of it).

"Sure." Tech said. "But you will go to bed after this one. Agreed?"

"Okay, Tech!" Omega said happily and snuggled down into Wrecker's side, draping a blanket over herself. Even if she did go to her room after the film, Echo knew the chances of her getting to sleep before her brothers was slim. It was worth a shot anyway.

"You know who should probably go to bed?" Crosshair asked. He pointed his toothpick towards the end of the sofa where Hunter was.

The Sergeant was tucked up into a ball, bandana slipping over his eyes, and his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He was already dead to the world. Echo chuckled and turned to the TV as Wrecker found the film. Although, it didn't seem he was going to get much peace this evening, even with one brother fast asleep beside him, because just a few minutes into the film Omega decided to circle back round to a previous topic of conversation. "So that list of things Echo has-"

"Nope!"

[perilegs]

im doing a rerun of my canon da:o playthrough and. does someone want to read my notes on my mahariel so far. bc here they are

ok so my canon warden is Atish’an Mahariel (it’s her name bc I'm finnish and Rauha (lit. peace) is a common old woman name here so i thought it'd be funny). she has a vallaslin representing Sylaise. (here’s her toyhouse for a pic but there’s pretty much no text there (at least not any that’s not written here anyways)

Origin:

Killed one of the humans as an example. She can be very distrustful of humans near her clan.

Cocky, Brash, blunt, very sure of herself, kinda rude and a menace, loves her mom (Ashalle). 

Is protective of the clan but like, physically, not verbally. As in, she will eliminate physical threats or ruffle a kid’s hair for doing a good job or put in extra effort to ask someone how they’re doing and sitting with someone if they seem like they need it or whatever. She does care. But she’s not going to say how much she cares out loud. She prefers to show it in other ways. Ati would find herself flustered if she actually had to tell someone how much love she has. That’s embarrassing. She can sometimes be a bit less emotionally stunted around those she trusts. (this is something she improves on during the game a bit but it takes a long time)

“When mommy elf and a daddy elf love each other very much…” upon asked how the dalish came to be

Cannot bear the thought that maybe there was something that she could have done to stop Tamlen’s fate. “Why are you looking at me like that. It’s not my fault.” Very defensive about it.

Don’t cast me away, please

“I don’t want to lose you too.” Did the keeper have to say that. Ati already felt guilty about Tamlen. It would be later when Ati realized the keeper was right, it wouldn’t benefit anyone if she just decided to die in her clan. The keeper seems to hold the Grey Wardens in high regard.

Dragged out of the clan, kicking and screaming. Not really, she gave some very teary “I don’t wanna go, please this is all i’ve ever known” goodbyes. It was highly uncharacteristic of the overconfident Atish’an. She was always very sure of herself and raring to go and explore the world, and so very inquisitive, loving to ask questions about anything and everything from the clanmates who did trading with human villages.

Ostagar:

The trip to Ostagar made Ati a bit numb bc she realized there’s really no fighting her fate. More worn out than angry by Ostagar. Clearly unhappy. Still hostile to most, since i guess hostility and overconfidence are the only two acceptable emotions to show to the outside world.

I am no friend of yours, human lord

Finds Alistair alright, maybe a bit annoying (she does not realize they’re both Like That)

Alistair is a major history buff, knows everything about blights, grey wardens, and old gods. That’s cool! Ati WILL ask him about Everything

Definitely respected Morrigan at first meeting, she could see she was not like most humans, she felt closer to her kind than other humans. Morrigan is a random woman living in the woods and we were the ones who stumbled upon her area. Her mother seems alright albeit a bit. strange...

Tower of Ishal: confused as to tfs going on, she was dragged out of her clan to hold a torch so obviously she’s pissed but something’s not right.. The action is a nice change of pace and helps Ati forget other things. 

Seeing something like the darkspawn orge is enough to change a woman. If the blight isn’t stopped and darkspawn roam Ferelden. What if one of those showed up to her clan? Atish’an doesn’t even dare to think about it. 

Hearing Morrigan tell her the battle was lost, Ati’s stomach dropped. She felt helpless, but she wouldn’t give up on her clan this easily. She couldn’t disappoint them any more. It would have been humiliating to return now, all of her crying and anger in vain. She can’t yet again be the reason even more of her clanmates lives are lost.

Definitely respects Flemeth for reasons unknown. Ati thinks she has a strange, powerful vibe to her.

Seeing Morrigan’s mother cast her away in such a manner made Atish’an feel a pang in her heart. Morrigan was like her, yearning to experience what it was like outside her home, but not wanting to leave when it came to it. Ati admired Morrigan’s strength in how she handled the matter. Ati decided she’d stick close to Morrigan. Never thought a human could be so similar to herself. 

Lothering:

“yea might as well” type of attitude towards helping people. ati finds it strangely rewarding + it’s not like doing that is making the blight stronger

“Blood isn’t all that important” @ Bodahn :’)

Ati decided she might as well get to know her companions a bit at camp since she’s going to have to stick them for a looong time since they want to get help in stopping the blight. And she doesn’t want to feel any lonelier than she already does.

Morrigan dare i ask of your own mother - “I love her. What else do you want to know?” Why did she say that. She could have just opened her chest to bare her heart to a complete stranger as well.

Alistair is helping Ati have her silly moments. She sympathises with Alistair a bit, and is showing him compassion.

Atish’an appreciates the conversations she has with Morrigan. Morrigan seems nice in her own way, and she often says things that force Ati to stop and think. In the long run, it’s helping Ati mature a bit and Morrigan break down her walls.

Redcliffe:

The silly pathetic endearing human she’s been travelling with, who is her senior warden yet leaves all the important decisions to Ati, is technically the heir to the throne. She finds this hilarious

This bann is kind of a baddie, wonder if he’d be down to. We’re on a mission here. (Ati has licked her fair share of lampposts and then some).

Circle:

Jumping at any chance to defend the mages. WHY do these people keep their mages locked up that’s so fucked up??

Oh? Wynne’s here? She’s kind of annoying but DAMN what a healer. Atishan is thinking that she would be useful to have around to fight the darkspawn. Baby’s first rational work thought :’)

Loghain sent a fucking assassin after them? Atish’an is terrified but god if being powerful enough to have an assassin sent after you is ego boosting. For some reason beyond her, she doesn’t think Zevran is lying about what he’s saying. It could be because he looks like home. It’s been a while since she’s seen other elves around, and his tattoos remind her of vallaslin. Not that they’re the vallaslin she would regognize. Maybe they have different ones in Antiva, she thinks.

Ati thinks she found someone more whorish than herself.

The way Zevran talks so openly about his past is throwing Ati off. How can he just reveal these things to her? (Does Ati notice how Zevran is undermining his own experiences trying to tell what the crows did was practical and that there were benefits? Does she notice how he feels when Ati tells him what he went through was awful? I am going to cry about Zevran’t approval changes right this second.) 

Hearing Zevran be so very homesick and talking of his home he cannot return to broke Ati’s heart. At least she could eventually go back home. Right? But the chances of Zevran surviving Antiva are slim. It makes Ati sad. She finds Zevran finding comfort in the smell of leather endearing. (I have far more thoughts on Zevran but this is what Ati thinks ok)

Brecilian forest:

Ati can't help but feel relieved after being among her own people after spending so much time with human affairs

Seeing the members of her sister clan in pain pains her too, she's stopped a demon possessing a child, an entire onslaught of undead, and she managed to save a circle tower from abominations beyond what she could have imagined. Ati feels unstoppable. Everything she has done, has worked out so far. It does not help with her cockiness. "I am good at non-trivial tasks."

Seeing the hunters like this… It takes some effort for Ati to not let it show how much of an effect it has on her. She could almost cry

Ati is getting used to Wynne. Ati's missing her mommy disease makes it so that Wynne's presence can be a bit comforting. And she appreciates Wynne's snark.

Wynne with elves who are mistrustful of humans, especially humans in authority seems to be a theme.

Seeing Danyla was painful. Atish'an knows she must be killed to end her suffering. It doesn't make it any easier. It's something that won't leave Ati. She's seen her fair share of death and suffering but this was something she could have never prepared for.

Sided with the elves and the werewolves. Ati thinks Zathrian's actions were originally justified, but the clan is suffering and. Well. The current werewolves, though they are humans, they aren't the evil heartless creatures that originally assaulted Zathrian's children. They were just people who happened to be born from those people.

Leliana gets on Ati's nerves a bit every so often. "They are serfs. There is no slavery in Orlais." mkay sure. But. Leliana actually listens to Atish'an when she challenges her beliefs. It's refreshing.

Oh… Leliana also has a dead bio mom who had a friend Leliana considers a mother figure.

Denerim:

Ati got Sten at 100% approval after questioning him about qunari children. Her inquisitive nature and snark are a HUGE hit. They were already at super high approval with each other bc Ati LOVES asking questions (i love how she’s both like cocky sure of herself rude & snarky but also so very cunning and inquisitive. you can be smart and a bit of an asshole)

Ati approves after Alistair defended her to Goldanna. She was about to go off but Alistair's firm response was enough to not make her loose her marbles.

Denerim market district is a lot to take in. Ati has never seen a city this big so full of life everywhere. It's a bit overwhelming

Ati heard there was some Howe leading a purge in the alienage. She would show him no mercy would they ever cross paths

Haven:

"Kadan" Atish'an does not know what the word means, but she can feel its weight. Kadan. She thinks she feels the same way about Sten. Sten said he trusted her with his life… Also Ati appreciates someone who will challenge her decisions. Their bond is strong. (Starts calling Sten lethallin? idk how that works. is vhenan romantic only?)

Also Ati’s specialization is druid. Sten understanding how intelligent mabari are and talking to Falon (i love dumb names) in such a regular manner is something Ati does too. I can’t believe i forgot Ati and Sten are besties before this rerun.

anyways this is all i have so far. does anyone have any thoughts? some suggestions for improvement? does anyone have a similar warden

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 10: I BREAK A FEW ROCKET SHIPS

Jeez, already half done and the quest only just now officially started. I can't get over how strangely short these books are.

PJOPJOPJO

"Zombies made you hungry?" Percy cracked a grin at her. "Really Rachel?"

"I've heard an awful lot about those magical fridges," she nodded seriously. "Show me around Perce?"

"There's not much to show," but he very reluctantly set the book back aside and agreed to show her out.

Thalia watched them go with a guilty sense of relief. She was well aware Annabeth used to be greatly jealous of Rachel, but they had recently made friends, and Percy had never looked twice at the frizzy redhead after he and Annabeth kissed under that lake.

No, it wasn't guilt her little sister's boyfriend was off smiling, reluctantly, but one that had been missing all morning with another girl.

It was guilty relief for Percy being gone for just a moment. Not pissed at her this time.

She didn't know what else she could do to help but hope Rachel eased the tension that hadn't left his face since he remembered Annabeth going over that cliff.

So distracted was she intently watching the door, ears trained for the slightest peep of unease that she might need to intervene if Percy lost it again and their Oracle needed a save, she didn't notice someone flopping down in Percy's abandoned seat until he spoke to her.

"You knew I didn't belong here too, didn't you?"

She dragged her eyes away from one pseudo pain in the butt little brother, to a blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy from California with a scar on his lip watching her with that same inquisitive face that asked every day why the sky was changing colors and when he could watch it happen again.

Halcyon Green was nuts, a mad old demigod out to torment them... She remembered how different her dad had been the second time he'd come around, more formal, and how Jason used Roman god's names so casually... it wasn't possible...

"Huh?" She asked, realizing he'd said something else.

"I asked if you were okay," he murmured gently. There was a wavering to the way he spoke now, his curiosity reigning in here most of the time, but occasionally like now still slipping into the stiff, confused tones of when he'd first come down here. He most definitely came across as a concerned leader asking after a prisoner of war right now.

"No," she admitted. "You're like a ghost to me," she put on a brave smile that didn't fool him one bit. "Don't worry about it. Yes, I suspected something was off about you, but it's so strange and unique. I can't fathom how you've survived so long on your own. Percy, well, the gods shouldn't have allowed you to be your age without you being at camp. It'll be explained later. Something about you is..." she couldn't finish, she didn't know how to articulate the insane possibility before her.

He looked disappointed, but not surprised.

"If Rachel has a gut feeling about you then I trust her," she waved vaguely to where Alex and Magnus were having another ASL study session. Annabeth's cousin whom she'd never mentioned, family whom she was never comfortable talking about. She was being foolish, Oceanus was to dense to have connected lost relatives together on anything more than an accident. "We'll figure out what your story is Jason, I promise the Hunters will search the corners of the globe to figure it out when we get out of here." Nobody should have to live like Percy was now.

"Thanks," he whispered, but there was no hint of relief in his troubled, stiff mouth. She swallowed as he kept watching her, as if still waiting for her to spill the rest of her secrets to this mirror of a stranger. 

It wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible. 

Beryl Grace had said he was dead...but she was a drunk who went crazy on her own beauty for catching the same god's attention twice...the very same god?

"You can stay," Thalia said firmly when Rachel and Percy came back eating ice cream cones. Will and Nico had gone back and forth too, though the Norse kids hadn't. They'd also been snacking the entire time they were here and hoarding food in all pockets of their clothes, so clearly that silent conversation had taken precedence this time. "Drag that beanbag over here, I don't bite."

Jason stalled, gave her a cautious smile, and then did exactly that as he dragged the woven cushion to her other side without unraveling a single seaweed from it.

Thalia's suspicions weren't soothed though, as something clicked into place when she turned a curious frown on the Son of Hades. 'You knew too'... Had Jason just been talking about Rachel? If Jason was the very same Jason back from the dead, could Nico have something to do with it? That boy was always off doing his own thing...if he knew something-

Alex laughed flamboyantly as always at the new chapter title Percy read. "One is never enough with you!"

"Break them how though?" Jason asked the real question while his scar wiggled at his twitching smile. "Over somebody's head? The security for yelling at you?"

"Can you set those on fire?" Magnus grinned along. "The one thing I would have thought would be safe from Percy's talent."

Thalia was to busy trying to muffle a laugh at the look on that Nemon Lion's face when Percy had thrown space food in its mouth to laugh along, but it wasn't exactly subtle. Nico wasn't going anywhere anymore than them, and Percy's distress was her priority right now.

"Oh, oo," Will started bouncing in his seat in excitement and Nico watched him with interest, "did you know Colin Cantwell designed the ships for both Star War's and A Space Odyssey! I hope they have a replica of one of his models in there!"

"They redid the Odyssey in space?" Nico asked blankly. Will's smile somehow got brighter every time he found out he got to show Nico something new.

"You see what I've had to go through," Percy waved at them while looking pleadingly at Rachel for some sanity to insist they don't linger on these silly things.

She merely smiled back, and said, "do you have any idea how expensive those are Percy? I'm so proud of you!"

"You're all hopeless," but he couldn't help laughing along too.

I tore across the Mall, not daring to look behind me. I burst into the Air and Space Museum and took off my invisibility cap once I was through the admissions area.

The main part of the museum was one huge room with rockets and airplanes hanging from the ceiling. Three levels of balconies curled around, so you could look at the exhibits from all different heights. The place wasn't crowded, just a few families and a couple of tour groups of kids, probably doing one of those holiday school trips. I wanted to yell at them all to leave, but I figured that would only get me arrested.

"Speaking from experience?" Rachel asked.

"I've never actually been arrested," Percy vaguely answered. Gabe had threatened to send him to juvie on more than one occasion, and that wasn't a threat he'd ever taken lightly.

 "You could have just pulled the fire alarm," Magnus reminded, "always a surefire way to get people to evacuate."

"I wanted all those people to flee the state, they would just huddle around the building and get more people there," Percy huffed.

I had to find Thalia and Grover and the Hunters. Any minute, the skeleton dudes were going to invade the museum, and I didn't think they would settle for an audio tour.

"Not everyone shares the same hobbies," Will nodded seriously.

"Someone needs to tell Oceanus that," Percy grumbled.

I ran into Thalia—literally. I was barreling up the ramp to the top-floor balcony and slammed into her, knocking her into an Apollo space capsule.

"I bet your dad has a piece of himself there every day and brags to all the other gods about it," Nico grinned.

"I'm pretty sure he claimed once at least half of NASA were descendants of his," Will agreed.

Grover yelped in surprise.

Before I could regain my balance, Zoe and Bianca had arrows notched, aimed at my chest. Their bows had just appeared out of nowhere.

When Zoe realized who I was, she didn't seem anxious to lower her bow. "You! How dare you show thy face here?"

"Never crossed her mind for a second he was innocently and conveniently on a field trip there?" Magnus smirked.

"No," Thalia rolled her eyes at being on the same page as Zoe, again.

"Percy!" Grover said. "Thank goodness."

Zoe glared at him, and he blushed. "I mean, um, gosh. You're not supposed to be here!"

"Geez, who knew you'd get the kid in the divorce," Percy told Thalia.

"You were saving that joke when he was held by Polyphemus, weren't you?" Thalia grinned.

"That's not the point," he scoffed.

"Luke," I said, trying to catch my breath. "He's here."

The anger in Thalia's eyes immediately melted. She put her hand on her silver bracelet.

"If anyone deserves to be bashed in the face with that shield, it's him," Alex nodded in savage agreement.

Thalia was doing so again in here, but Percy and Jason suspected that troubled look contained more hurt and memories than a bashing was forthcoming.

"Where?"

I told them about the Natural History Museum, Dr. Thorn, Luke, and the General.

"The General is here?" Zoe looked stunned. "That is impossible! You lie."

"Why would I lie?

Percy spoke in tandem with the book, and Thalia couldn't stop a laugh at the exact same level of indignation.

Jason gave a concerned whistle though. "Her mistrust of you runs deeper than I originally thought, I don't even know if it's safe for you to be on this quest. She might desert you at the first chance."

"Don't care," Percy said at once. If he had to dog, track, and hopscotch his way after their every move he would just to get one step closer to finding Annabeth.

Thalia frowned at Jason, wanting to defend Zoe, but knowing she couldn't yet. It wasn't a wrong assumption, just incomplete data of who her predecessor really was.

Look, there's no time. Skeleton warriors—"

"What?" Thalia demanded. "How many?"

"Twelve," I said. "And that's not all. That guy, the General, he said he was sending something, a 'playmate,' to distract you over here. A monster."

Thalia and Grover exchanged looks.

"We were following Artemis's trail," Grover said. "I was pretty sure it led here. Some powerful monster scent... She must've stopped here looking for the mystery monster. But we haven't found anything yet."

"Zoe," Bianca said nervously, "if it is the General—"

"It cannot be!" Zoe snapped. "Percy must have seen an Iris-message or some other illusion."

Jason felt a flicker of unease why Zoe seemed so adamant of where this guy should and shouldn't be. Was it all distrust of the boy being unreliable, or did she have some actual knowledge she was withholding?

"Illusions don't crack marble floors," I told her.

Zoe took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. I didn't know why she was taking it so personally, or how she knew this General guy, but I figured now wasn't the time to ask.

"For once I have to agree," Magnus gave a surly nod. The one time he understood why someone couldn't just spout the answer already.

Jason's unease only rose though what she wasn't saying about this guy, and hoped it hadn't gotten anybody killed.

"If Percy is telling the truth about the skeleton warriors," she said, "we have no time to argue. They are the worst, the most horrible... We must leave now."

"Good idea," I said.

"I was not including thee, boy," Zoe said. "You are not part of this quest."

Percy winced without surprise, he hadn't needed Jason to remind him he was unwanted, and Zoe wasn't going to make it easy on him. His conviction to gawk these Hunters like a satyr was as strong as ever.

"Hey, I'm trying to save your lives!"

"You shouldn't have come, Percy," Thalia said grimly. "But you're here now. Come on. Let's get back to the van."

"I accept that," Percy sighed with a reluctant smile at Thalia. At least she wasn't calling him a liar and telling him to leave too.

She gave him a much quicker smile back and let out another breath of ease. Percy had never been good at holding grudges against his friends.

"That is not thy decision!" Zoe snapped.

Thalia scowled at her. "You're not the boss here, Zoe. I don't care how old you are! You're still a conceited little brat!"

"You never had any wisdom when it came to boys," Zoe growled. "You never could leave them behind!"

Thalia looked like she was about to hit Zoe.

"That's not a match I want to see," Will winced. If Percy and Thalia had nearly destroyed their camp, those two probably would have leveled the state.

It would never come to that now, and Thalia swallowed old, bitter tears how much she still hated Zoe for being right about that. She wouldn't learn her lesson any time soon either, she wasn't leaving here without her friend.

Then everyone froze, I heard a growl so loud I thought one of the rocket engines was starting up.

Below us, a few adults screamed. A little kid's voice screeched with delight: "Kitty!"

"I'm guessing it's not the cute baby sabers back?" Magnus asked uneasily.

"What are the odds of Space Kitty on display?" Rachel sighed, knowing chances weren't in her favor.

Something enormous bounded up the ramp. It was the size of a pick-up truck, with silver claws and golden glittering fur. I'd seen this monster once before. Two years ago, I'd glimpsed it briefly from a train.

"Does everything in the past come to bite me in the ass?" Percy demanded.

Thalia didn't answer, which felt like an answer he didn't want to hear anyways.

Now, up close and personal, it looked even bigger.

"The Nemean Lion," Thalia said. "Don't move."

"It's not a t-rex!" Will yelped.

Nico let out an impressed whistle though and whispered the Nemean Lion's card stats, that had been the first rare card he ever got. "What's this have to do with dinosaurs?" He found himself being gratefully distracted from his past to ask. He wondered if Will heard the curiosity in his voice, he loved dinosaurs too and had slept in more than one museum in a spinosaurus exhibit.

Will gave him a promising smile and said, "it's another movie you have to watch."

He was clearly compiling a list in his head, and Nico couldn't think of a downside to that for a moment...right Tartarus.

The lion roared so loud it parted my hair. Its fangs gleamed like stainless steel.

Rachel's eyes widened in awe, and her hands spasmed in frustration she couldn't be reaching for something to sketch that image right now.

"What did his breath smell like?" Alex asked with interest.

Percy considered for a moment with a wrinkled nose. "Tires, catnip, and death."

"An extravagant new cologne I'm sure," Thalia snorted.

"Does he chase cars down the freeway?" Nico asked, keeping to himself how smug he used to be when he played a hellhound against this card as a sacrifice move to summon Cerberus, though he'd never do that to Mrs. O'Leary now. They might be terrifying playmates.

"I didn't ask," Percy snorted.

"Separate on my mark," Zoe said. "Try to keep it distracted."

"Until when?" Grover asked.

"Until I think of a way to kill it. Go!"

"That's a great answer," Jason begrudgingly approved.

I uncapped Riptide and rolled to the left. Arrows whistled past me, and Grover played a sharp tweet-tweet cadence on his reed pipes.

"Is he trying to distract him with bird calls?" Magnus yelped.

"Not a bad strategy," Nico smirked as he imagined a skeleton bird hopping around.

I turned and saw Zoe and Bianca climbing the Apollo capsule. They were firing arrows, one after another, all shattering harmlessly against the lions metallic fur. The lion swiped the capsule and tipped it on its side, spilling the Hunters off the back. Grover played a frantic, horrible tune, and the lion turned toward him, but Thalia stepped into its path, holding up Aegis, and the lion recoiled. "ROOOAAAR!"

"I don't need Grover's translation for that one," Will muttered.

"Hi-yah!" Thalia said. "Back!"

The lion growled and clawed the air, but it retreated as if the shield were a blazing fire.

For a second, I thought Thalia had it under control. Then I saw the lion crouching, its leg muscles tensing. I'd seen enough cat fights in the alleys around my apartment in New York. I knew the lion was going to pounce.

"Confirmed, Percy likes watching the kittens wiggle their tails," Thalia, as usual, seemed the least concerned about the whole impending doom of them all almost dying, especially herself.

"You've clearly never heard an actual cat fight," Percy shook his head with dread in his stomach. Those deep cat hisses with their fur on end that sent shivers up his spine, their claws ripping off chunks of ear and matting themselves in blood. It was brutal, and Thalia would have been a goner.

"Hey!" I yelled. I don't know what I was thinking, but I charged the beast.

"There's that phrase again," Jason said in exasperation. If this guy ever thought before he moved he might be unstoppable. Even as an impulsive lunatic he was pretty close.

Rachel looked at Percy in admiration his heroics were such an ingrained part of him and tried to map out a color wheel in her mind which would best be used to depict that.

I just wanted to get it away from my friends. I slashed with Riptide, a good strike to the flank that should've cut the monster into Meow Mix, but the blade just clanged against its fur in a burst of sparks.

"And dropping a rocket on its head will do the trick?" Alex asked, though she could now easily imagine why all the breaking came into play.

"Why was a Fury one of the easiest things to kill and she still terrified the piss out of me?" Magnus asked. He'd really like it if each of these things stopped having a gimmicky way they needed to die! Especially another magical beast...as he wondered about those wolves again- nope. One trauma at a time, and Alex was already studying him again for the new stress in his voice.

The lion raked me with its claws, ripping off a chunk of my coat. I backed against the railing. It sprang at me, one thousand pounds of monster, and I had no choice but to turn and jump.

"Plunge to the death the sequel?" Nico muttered. He was proud of himself though he was no longer sitting like a jaw-dropped idiot Percy hadn't managed to fell this beast in one swoop. It wasn't even because he was distracted wondering what his sister would have had to say about Percy being there before they were interrupted.

I landed on the wing of an old-fashioned silver airplane, which pitched and almost spilled me to the floor, three stories below.

An arrow whizzed past my head. The lion jumped onto the aircraft, and the cords holding the plane began to groan.

The lion swiped at me, and I dropped onto the next exhibit, a weird-looking spacecraft with blades like a helicopter. I looked up and saw the lion roar—inside its maw, a pink tongue and throat.

Its mouth, I thought. Its fur was completely invulnerable, but if I could strike it in the mouth...

"Throw your sword in there!" Jason and Alex yelled at once.

"Do I look like I do javelin events for fun?" Percy protested. "Then I'd be unarmed until it came back!"

"That's a really good idea though Percy," Thalia said with a brilliant smile. She didn't even sound insultingly surprised. Who knew looking into the maw of death could ever cause a good idea? "I promise I won't tell PETA on you."

"You're one to talk, Huntress," Percy chuckled along now.

The only problem was, the monster moved too quickly. Between its claws and fangs, I couldn't get close without getting sliced to pieces.

"Zoe!" I shouted. "Target the mouth!"

The monster lunged. An arrow zipped past it, missing completely, and I dropped from the spaceship onto the top of a floor exhibit, a huge model of the earth. I slid down Russia and dropped off the equator.

Thalia winced now though, at the casual reminder Percy had dropped off the face of the Earth and Annabeth was still out there losing her mind with worry.

The Nemean Lion growled and steadied itself on the spacecraft, but its weight was too much. One of the cords snapped. As the display swung down like a pendulum, the lion leaped off onto the model earth's North Pole.

"Grover!" I yelled. "Clear the area!"

Groups of kids were running around screaming. Grover tried to corral them away from the monster just as the other cord on the spaceship snapped and the exhibit crashed to the floor. Thalia dropped off the second-floor railing and landed across from me, on the other side of the globe.

Alex tried her hardest not to bust out laughing the two were the opposite of polar opposites of each other back then when they were after the same goal. The problem was they were too similar.

The lion regarded us both, trying to decide which of us to kill first.

Zoe and Bianca were above us, bows ready, but they kept having to move around to get a good angle.

"No clear shot!" Zoe yelled. "Get it to open its mouth more!"

The lion snarled from the top of the globe.

I looked around. Options. I needed...

The gift shop. I had a vague memory from my trip here as a little kid. Something I'd made my mom buy me, and I'd regretted it. If they still sold that stuff...

"Thalia," I said, "keep it occupied."

"Oh come on, now even you're doing it!" Magnus groaned. Annabeth wasn't even in danger and he was still on the edge of his seat, wide eyed to hear what was next. He hadn't even freaked out over a metal-coated lion being around, that much.

Alex was almost disappointed he finally seemed to be adapting to this world. She missed his dumbstruck face almost as much as she enjoyed watching him get invested in these.

She nodded grimly.

"Hi-yah!" She pointed her spear and a spidery arc of blue electricity shot out, zapping the lion in the tail.

"That is one way to keep it occupied," Rachel agreed proudly.

"And help it decide who to kill first," Jason said faintly.

"ROOOOOOOAR!" The lion turned and pounced. Thalia rolled out of its way, holding up Aegis to keep the monster at bay, and I ran for the gift shop.

"This is no time for souvenirs, boy!" Zoe yelled.

"I don't know what she's on about," Alex scoffed, "I would kill for a lion throw rug right now."

"I don't think The Air and Space Museum sells those," Magnus helpfully reminded. "Unless there really is a space kitty on display and we've been lied to about a lot more than aliens."

"I'm withholding judgment," Alex shrugged.

"Why is it every time I come up with a plan people are calling me crazy or think I'm fleeing?" Percy protested.

"No faith," Will agreed sympathetically. He didn't even know what Percy was up to and he knew it would help.

I dashed into the shop, knocking over rows of T-shirts, jumping over tables full of glowin-the-dark planets and space ooze. The sales lady didn't protest. She was too busy cowering behind her cash register.

There! On the far wall—glittery silver packets. Whole racks of them. I scooped up every kind I could find and ran out of the shop with an armful.

"That explained nothing!" Magnus groaned as he looked at Percy in betrayal.

For once though Percy wasn't disturbing the water or them with it as he read he was so invested in this, and his nose was still scrunched up like that cat breath lingered in memory, so Magnus wasn't too put out Percy wasn't trying to give them a play by play detail of how fast he'd been moving by launching them into the wall again.

Zoe and Bianca were still showering arrows on the monster, but it was no good. The lion seemed to know better than to open its mouth too much. It snapped at Thalia, slashing with its claws. It even kept its eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

Thalia jabbed at the monster and backed up. The lion pressed her.

"Percy," she called, "whatever you're going to do—"

The lion roared and swatted her like a cat toy, sending her flying into the side of a Titan rocket.

"Hopefully not ominous," Percy muttered as he glanced at her now, though she hardly looked winded at the old injury.

Her head hit the metal and she slid to the floor.

"Hey!" I yelled at the lion. I was too far away to strike, so I took a risk: I hurled Riptide like a throwing knife. It bounced off the lion's side, but that was enough to get the monster's attention. It turned toward me and snarled.

Percy swallowed and reminded himself not to clench his fists. "Are you two happy now, I threw the sword!"

"Yes, please continue taking my advice," Alex nodded sagely.

"No, because now you're right and you don't have a weapon and you're about to be Meow Mix," Jason sighed.

"There's no pleasing everybody," Will snorted.

There was only one way to get close enough. I charged, and as the lion leaped to intercept me, I chunked a space food pouch into its maw—a chunk of cellophane-wrapped, freeze-dried strawberry parfait.

"Everybody loves parfait," Percy proudly announced like that explained everything.

It did not, but Percy didn't give them the chance to argue the point as he kept reading in the same way.

The lion's eyes got wide and it gagged like a cat with a hairball.

"Naww," Magnus said with a genuine smile like he actually found that cute.

"You have clearly never heard a cat hack up a hairball," Percy shook his head. "It's disgusting, and I almost feel bad for doing that to him. I once was him."

I couldn't blame it. I remembered feeling the same way when I'd tried to eat space food as a kid. The stuff was just plain nasty.

"Fascinating," Alex declared, and then got up unprompted and left the room. There was a few beats of silence, the sound of gagging and then a toilet flushing, before Alex flopped back into her seat beside Magnus and assured, "and agreed, that stuff should burn. Continue."

Percy decided to take her advice again before anyone else got brave enough to subject themselves to that.

"Zoe, get ready!" I yelled.

Behind me, I could hear people screaming. Grover was playing another horrible song on his pipes.

"Remind me to record some of Grover's songs to add to my playlist," Rachel smiled his music would fit perfectly to how Percy kept describing her taste.

I scrambled away from the lion. It managed to choke down the space food packet and looked at me with pure hate.

"Snack time!" I yelled.

It made the mistake of roaring at me, and I got an ice-cream sandwich in its throat.

Fortunately, I had always been a pretty good pitcher, even though baseball wasn't my game.

"Basketball is throwing something into a hoop, same principle right?" Nico asked.

"Nico, you poor guy." Percy looked at him mortally offended now. "What planet are you from to think such a thing?"

Nico wasn't particularly offended, he was used to not getting the majority of what the other Camper's said, and for once it didn't sting like fresh scorpion pit venom to hear that coming from Percy. It still didn't feel great either.

Will smoothly intervened, "and you wouldn't know the horn from a stirrup in a saddle Percy, moving on."

The blank look on Percy's face proved Will's point enough he did as asked while Nico gave him a grateful smile. Will's heart skipped a beat, and for once he was grateful nobody had ever listened to him about putting saddles on those Pegasus when riding.

Before the lion could stop gagging, I shot in two more flavors of ice cream and a freeze-dried spaghetti dinner.

The lion's eyes bugged. It opened its mouth wide and reared up on its back paws, trying to get away from me.

"I have tamed the beast!" Percy cheered, fist-pumping the water with the book in hand and shooting up a geyser into the ceiling, creating another crack. It made dust dribble down on them for a moment, but Percy kept reading without concern.

Lucky him, he probably wouldn't die if this place collapsed. None of them were so sure if their protection would linger outside these walls.

"Now!" I yelled.

Immediately, arrows pierced the lion's maw—two, four, six. The lion thrashed wildly, turned, and fell backward. And then it was still.

Alarms wailed throughout the museum. People were flocking to the exits. Security guards were running around in a panic with no idea what was going on.

Grover knelt at Thalia's side and helped her up. She seemed okay, just a little dazed.

Zoe and Bianca dropped from the balcony and landed next to me.

Zoe eyed me cautiously. "That was... an interesting strategy."

"Hercules should be begging you for tips," Thalia proudly agreed, though she was grateful she'd kept the comment to herself back then. Percy smiled at her, when she wasn't so sure he would have back then.

Not to mention Zoe might have stabbed her on the spot.

"Hey, it worked."

She didn't argue.

The lion seemed to be melting, the way dead monsters do sometimes, until there was nothing left but its glittering fur coat, and even that seemed to be shrinking to the size of a normal lion's pelt.

"Take it," Zoe told me.

I stared at her. "What, the lion's fur? Isn't that, like, an animal rights violation or something?"

"Only if you don't use the whole animal," Magnus grinned, "the rest of the animal melted, don't let what's left go to waste Perce."

"Duly noted, especially if one of Artemis's girls are telling me," Percy chuckled.

"It is a spoil of war," she told me. "It is rightly thine."

"You killed it," I said.

She shook her head, almost smiling. "I think thy ice-cream sandwich did that.

"I would concur with Zoe," Thalia pretended to shiver in revulsion just to keep up a charade to Percy her old dislike. "I was concussed at the time and saw you poison that poor kitty."

"Payback for the time my mom once tried to take in a stray and it pissed on my bed," Percy said innocently, though in honesty he'd never held a grudge and had snuck it out scraps when Gabe kicked the animal out after it pissed on his pillow too.

Fair is fair, Percy Jackson. Take the fur."

I lifted it up; it was surprisingly light. The fur was smooth and soft. It didn't feel at all like something that could stop a blade. As I watched, the pelt shifted and changed into a coat—a full-length golden-brown duster.

"Howdy, howdy, howdy," Alex burst out laughing, she'd loved Toy Story as a kid.

"It's to bad you never got a hat to go with it," Thalia said with a strange smile, it almost looked forced. That getup had saved his life, and it made her sick to her stomach just thinking about mocking him for it now.

Nico gave Percy a forlorn smile as he said, "I can't imagine why you ever gave that up," though he was glad he had. As if this could get any more perfect, cowboys and pirates all bundled up into one Percy.

Percy gave him the same strange look as ever like he was speaking a different language. Nico flushed and looked away with guilt, he hadn't meant to provoke Percy's memories. Thankfully he didn't flip out, so it wasn't something else he was going to inevitably be blamed for.

"Not exactly my style," I murmured.

"We have to get out of here," Grover said. "The security guards won't stay confused for long."

I noticed for the first time how strange it was that the guards hadn't rushed forward to arrest us. They were scrambling in all directions except ours, like they were madly searching for something. A few were running into the walls or each other.

Will was the only one trying to suppress a smile at that, he felt bad for the mortals, but not bad enough he wanted Percy getting caught.

"Oh my gods!" Alex burst out laughing hardest of all. "I will pay that satyr to teach me that!"

"On yourself or innocent civilians?" Magnus asked sincerely.

"Why not both!" She beamed.

"I'm sure he'll get right on that," Percy agreed.

"You did that?" I asked Grover.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "A minor confusion song. I played some Barry Manilow. It works every time. But it'll only last a few seconds."

"The security guards are not our biggest worry," Zoe said. "Look."

Through the glass walls of the museum, I could see a group of men walking across the lawn. Gray men in gray camouflage outfits. They were too far away for us to see their eyes, but I could feel their gaze aimed straight at me.

"To bad you couldn't feed them to the lion," Thalia scowled, she still remembered her heart skipping a beat every time those menaces showed up.

"Go," I said. "They'll be hunting me. I'll distract them."

"No," Zoe said. "We go together."

I stared at her. "But, you said—"

"You are part of this quest now," Zoe said grudgingly. "I do not like it, but there is no changing fate. You are the fifth quest member. And we are not leaving anyone behind."

"It only took you literally saving her life to admit it," Rachel chuckled as she offered to take the book from Percy.

He seemed reluctant to hand it over. He hadn't gotten any news about Annabeth in this one, what Luke was doing to her, how she was recovering. In this instance he didn't think no news would be good news. He'd figure out how to work a fax machine for a few letters again, take a pigeon message, anything!

If he started kicking up a fuss about wanting to read this though, he was worried he'd start losing it over everything again. He really was trying so hard to keep it together, so he passed the peeling, purple, battered, and bruised, key to his heart over to her.

[morrisxn02]

“Privet to you too.” Eventually, Edward would put in the effort to reciprocate Monty’s sporadic use of Russian. For months he had been taking it on Duolingo alongside Portuguese and Japanese (which was his main focus, because nothing hits like Ishiguro in the original), but still hadn’t had the time to sign up for classes. So, most of what he knew consisted of greetings, numbers, and AI-generated sentences like ‘The owl is an apple’ and ‘I eat books’. “And that’s all the Russian for today.” His voice was already a little more energetic than five minutes earlier – it wasn’t a match to Monty’s curiously enthusiastic temperament, but it was better than the languid moans he had been emitting for the last half hour. “Well, you know. It’s hanging.” Sometimes it hung by the neck. Tied in a rope. Tied to a tree. But it was definitely hanging more than it was falling – if the metaphor even made sense anymore. But the point was, he was managing to keep his head above water, and that was what mattered. “You seem pretty joyful, though.” His voice was inquisitive, despite him never formulating an actual question.

Life returns to his features at Monty’s little joint-behind-the-ear trick. A goddamn magician. But, apparently, he had another trick up his sleeve. “Well, I have to admit I like a good surprise.” One side of his lips turns upward in a hint of a smile, eyes fixed on the hand that rests in Monty’s pocket. “But what if I choose that one and get disappointed?” His words carry a playfully accusatory tone. If there was one thing Monty never did was disappoint. “Guess I’m curious…” He gives in. “Show me what’s in the pocket–” His words are assertive. That was what he was going to choose from the very start. “And if it’s something bad like a paperclip we’ll go again. Deal?”

Now that Monty was closer and Eddie could see a little better, under the dim fairy lights hanging over them, he noticed a fading bruise on his nose. Still, since he had forgotten to bring his glasses and had to ditch his contacts because of the dry air, he had to squint a little to properly distinguish the varying skin tones. He was curious to ask but didn’t know how to address it. He and Monty had had a friendly, yet mostly transactional relationship so far, so it felt a little intrusive to unabashedly ask him about it. “You know what, I’ll go for the joint.” He scoots to the side in an invitation for Monty to take the newly-opened space on the stairs.

He'd already spotted Edward, the other's lean, towering frame difficult to miss when initially stepping out onto the porch. It was the only space that was actually lit outside, the glow emanating from the house growing dimmer the further out into the yard you ventured, but that'd be remedied soon enough -- there was supposed to be a bonfire. As soon as he caught wind of it, Monty wandered outside and never went back in. It wasn't very good form, from a business standpoint. He'd definitely had more people hitting him up when he was pinned to the wall beside the stereo setup, focusing on the buzz of the speaker vibrating through his shoulder and pretending he couldn't hear people when they had the audacity to ask for change. What the fuck did he look like, a Coinstar kiosk? If there was anyone who wouldn't be asking for cashback, though, it was a Morrison. "Well, yeah," Monty snorted to his current company, "if you like remakes, I guess." He nudged them with an elbow while side-stepping, exiting the conversation while already lifting a chin in Edward's direction.

"Privet," he greeted, smile creeping wider as he stopped in front of the other. "How's it hangin', Eds? To the left, to the right?" His head tipped to either side while he spoke, tone appropriately playful. Monty was very clearly up, riding the emotional high of a new relationship and bolstered by the fact that his punched-in nose was practically healed now, throb-free. Not a single soul had asked him about it yet tonight, the bruises faded out into a sickly yellow that was undetectable in the shitty lighting of a house party. Call that wins on wins. With one hand pushing into his jacket pocket, the other raised to pluck an untouched joint from where it was tucked behind his ear, a few strands of hair falling free. "You can only have one," he began cryptically, presenting Edward with both the fat joint and his closed fist pulled from his pocket, whatever was concealed inside remaining a mystery. His brows jumped in question, feeling a little like a court jester performing a magic trick. "Which one do you want?"

[mcubrunette]

Suit of Armor

Pairing: Richard Madden x Reader

Summary: I tell Richard exactly how I felt about Eternals and what he has to do to make up for what he put me through.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: ETERNALS SPOILERS, Smut, 18+ (NO MINORS PERMITTED), Swearing, Daddy Kink (for 1 second, its short I promise!), grammar and spelling mistakes

A/N: This is definitely inspired by the rant my roommate was subjected to after I returned home from seeing Eternals minus the smut

“Are you alright, love? You ready for this?” He asked as he gazed down on me. His hand on my thigh as he sat next to me in the back of the big black SUV.

“Are you kidding me” I exclaimed. “Of course I’m ready. Richard I get to see you for the first time in a fricken Marvel movie. I've been waiting for this since I found out you got the part two years ago, you know how much I love these movies.”

Richard chuckled in response “I know that much love”, then sighed, “I just know it can be a lot going on the carpet, I know how anxiety inducing it can be for you” as he leaned his forehead against mine.

Having been in a relationship for the last 3 years together, I had appeared next to Richard on a handful of red carpets by now. But that being said, I never could get used to the noise of all the screaming, cameras clicking and the general feeling of everyone’s eyes on me (even though I’m pretty sure most eyes remained on the handsome man beside me and I was a mere afterthought).

“I promise I will let you know if it becomes too much. But I think I’ll be distracted anyway, I’m just too excited to see you on the screen as a real superhero!” I looked up at him with a smile trying to show how proud I am of this accomplishment.

Then, just at that moment the car pulled to a stop and that’s when I started to tune in to all the noise that awaited us outside.

Richard gently grabbed my chin and turned me to face towards him, away from my gaze on the carpet mere feet from us “Just keep ahold of my hand and if it becomes too much just squeeze my hand and focus on me, I will get us off there as soon as I can”.

“Okay, I can do that” I looked up at him through my lashes “let’s do this”.

The driver came around and opened the door, giving me a hand and Richard following behind me.

We were immediately whisked down the carpet into the flurry of flashes from the camera and shouts from the fans and photographers.

But I remained focused on the feeling of Richard's strong hand in mine, or when he let go to wrap his arm around my waist I focused on the pressure of his body on mine. Soon enough it was over and we were heading to the theater.

After a brief catch up with Gemma, talking about how we must get together for a holiday gathering within the next couple months, Richard guided me to the front for our seats.

I could tell Richard was antsy for it to start as he wouldn’t stop moving in his seat. He puts so much pressure on himself and this was the moment everyone would see him hard work, and he did not want to disappoint.

Just as the lights were dimming, I reached over to Richard to grab his attention, reaching a hand around his neck I brought his ear close to mine and whispered “I love you, and I am so proud of you already, I know it will be amazing”

He rubbed his forehead against mine before dipping down, kissing my cheek and saying “thanks baby, I love you so much”

And we turned our heads as the film began.

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

I.. I didn’t even know what to say. The movie ended and everyone stood for a round of applause. I was slow to get out of my seat and clap. Richard looked down at me asking how it was and all I could do was give a small reserved smile and saying “it was great”. I quickly gave him a kiss of the cheek “well I guess it’s time to be on our way then”.

Richard gave a slight inquisitive look but I looked away and took his hand to lead him out the door.

There was an after party gathering hosted by Angelina in the bar of a nearby hotel we made our way over to. Non-stop of people coming up to Richard congratulating him on his performance, and a few punches to the shoulder exclaiming how they couldn’t believe he was the bad guy in the end.

I just waited back, sat next to the bar in the corner waiting for him to finish making his rounds.

Just then he caught my gaze as he was amidst a conversation with a couple crew members. He gave me that look I knew meant he was trying to figure out how I was doing. He gave me a thumbs up signal in question just to confirm his question was coming through to me.

I gave him a small smile and thumbs up in return to confirm I was okay where I sat.

“Can I get you anything miss” the bartender asked, drawing my attention away from my gorgeous man, to the bar I sat at.

“Oh no I’m okay thank you thou- oH hi” I was interrupted by the hands wrapping around my waist.

“Let’s get out of here” he whispered into my ear with that deep Scottish drawl, and the couple beers he’s had only accentuated his accent further.

“Okay” I whispered back, nodding.

As we got in the back of the car the driver let us know we should arrive home in about 20 minutes, before closing the partition.

I stared out the window watching the city pass by, my hands non-stop fidgeting with my phone on my lap.

Richard look over and grabbed my hand, “are you okay love” he asked. I turned around seeing a look of mild concern on his face.

“I’m good” I replied shortly, turning my head back to face the outside which transitioned from the bright city lights and screens to the more subdued suburban neighborhood atmosphere.

“Um okay” he replied, and I could tell he wasn’t exactly convinced.

We sat in silence until we reached out home about 10 minutes later, pulling into the driveway. The driver came around and opened my door, Richard meeting me around the front of the car. He turned back to thank the driver and handed him a tip as I already made my way towards the house.

I was just setting my purse down on the console in the entryway when Richard made his way through the door.

As he closed the door behind him he began to speak “love are you really sure you are okay I wasn’t expecting you to be this qui- Oompf” as he was silenced by me pushing him up against the door and attaching my lips to him in a fury of passion.

I ran my hands up his chest, over his tux, up the back of his neck into his hair. I couldn’t resist giving a little tug which elicited a low moan from him. His arms that had been moving up and down my waist pressed in even harder.

“So I’m guessing you liked the movie” he panted, each word said in between kisses as began to make his way from my mouth to planting kisses along my jaw towards my neck.

“NO” I exclaimed, pushing myself away from him, turning my back to him.

“Umm..” he froze not sure how to react, “what do you mean love?” And I just knew he had a confused look on his face as he said it without even turning around.

“I can’t believe you did that to me” I whispered, tears almost threatening to form in my eyes.

“Wha- what did I do-“ “YOU KILLED YOURSELF” I yelled, turning around unable to keep my anger restrained.

He just leaned against the door, incredibly confused “umm..”

“You were SO HOT” I exclaimed throwing my hands in the air, “and then you just THREW YOURSELF INTO THE SUN”.

It was then a small smirk began to develop on his face.

“Looove..” he drawled out, beginning to walk over to me, “you know I didn’t have a choi-“ “I don’t care” I interrupted as I began to walk further into the house, throwing my coat onto the entryway bench and making my way into the kitchen.

“So you liked the film?” He asked, trying to confirm my thoughts on his work.

“Objectively, it was an amazing movie” I said. Hesighed with a smile on his face, satisfied that I did in fact enjoy the film, which I interrupted by adding, “but subjectively I hate you and Ikaris and anyone else who had a role in killing off who is clearly the hottest superhero in the MCU”

“But he betrayed his family lov-“ “No, I don’t care, I refuse to accept that as an excuse” I shook my head at him.

“But he-“ “no Richard there is nothing you can say that will make this better. You make me so happy by telling me you are a marvel superhero, getting me all hyped up, and turns out you were evil and going to kill yourself so you won’t even be in another movie which means I don’t get to stare are you in that uniform anymore.” I was left breathing heavily out of air upon finishing my rant.

He started slowing making his way over to me where I rested against the counter, putting his arms on either side of my body against the edge of the counter, trapping me.

“So you’re biggest issue with the movie was that it means you will no longer get to see me dressed as a superhero” he looked down on me with a smile on his face, trying to hold back laughter.

“Yes that is essentially the issue here” I nodded, a smirk now appearing on my face “because you know,” my arms going up his chest to behind his neck pulling his ear down near my mouth “you were just so sexy in that uniform I could hardly handle it”.

“Well if it was hard for you to handle, maybe it’s for the best I’m no longer in it” his hands coming off the counter to wrap around my waist whispering in my ear and finishing with a little nip at my ear.

“Oh no, I don’t think so” I noted wryly, my hands coming back down his front, now starting to drift over the top of his pants lining.

“Because,” I added, “it would be to your benefit if I got to see you even more as Ikaris” looking up at him.

“Oh yeah, why is that” he hummed, his hands drifting further down below my hips.

“Because seeing you in that uniform, seeing you fly around shooting later beams out of your eyes destroy evil monsters” I paused to take a breath, “made me want you to bend me over and take me right there in the middle of the theater with no care for anyone there who was watching” I finished, pausing to look up at him and stare him in the eyes, in an attempt to challenge him.

“Hmm well do you want to go down to the theater room, I can bend you over the couch and fulfil your fantasy” his hands reaching the curve of my underside giving a gentle squeeze with those large hands on his.

But before I could rebuttal he added “or would fucking you here on the counter be up to your satisfaction because I really can’t wait another minute to rip that dress off of you”

“Here will be fine” I said before slamming my lips against his again and he lifted me effortlessly up onto the counter.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, my hand slipping down to press against his growing bulge.

“God you had me scared you didn’t like the movie” he breathed as he kissed down my neck, his hands now drifting to my back to undo my dress.

“Of course I loved it, you idiot, but I’m still expecting you to make up for throwing my new favourite MCU character into the sun”.

He pulled back to look at me, a twinkle in his eyes as he said “oh I think I can do that, love” and reattached our lips in a heated make out.

He finished undoing my back so he pulled the dress down to my hips then I leaned back so he could finish pulling it down my legs. All that remained was the dark blue lingerie set, with flecks of gold detail, I had specifically bought for this night.

“Wow, you really are Ikaris’ biggest supporter” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I’m your biggest supporter actually” I corrected, as I grabbed a fistful of the front of his suit to bring him closer to me. I pushed his shirt jacket off his shoulders onto the floor.

I carefully, but quickly, I began unbuttoning his white dress shirt as he undid his bow tie. Soon I was pushing the shirt onto the floor to join the jacket, our lips never leaving each other for a moment. Until I pushed him back so I could hop off the counter and sink to my knees, hands quickly going to unbutton his slacks.

“Love, I thought I was making it up to you tonight” he questioned as he tried to give a gentle tug under my arm to pull me back up.

I kept myself solid on the ground, managing to open his pants and pull down them, and his boxers, enough to have his hard cock fly out and up against his stomach.

“I know, but I can’t help but want to also show you how proud I am of you still” my hand wrapping around him, not quite all the way

“Okay, if you’re certai-ohhhh god” he groaned as my tongue touched the tip of his cock, and my mouth wrapped around him right after. His head tilted back, eyes closed and hands instinctively grabbed a hold of my hair.

“God FUCK you suck my cock so good” he panted, and looked down at me again to see me looking back up at him as I tried to take as much as I could of him, my hands working to pleasure what my mouth couldn’t reach.

He gently applied pressure to the back of my head, “a little further I know you can do that babygirl”.

As I attempted to hollow out my cheeks and go further, along with his pushing, his cock slipped a bit too far eliciting a gag from me.

Richard immediately stopped and pulled me back with a concern look on his face. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to go that far” he breathed out with worry.

“I’m good I swear” I said as I tried to catch my breath, “your pleasure is worth as little pain” I added, as I went back to sucking his cock.

“I should remember you do love to mix pain with your pleasure” beginning to grab a hold of my hair again. I winked up at him in response and all he could do was let out a continuous moan as I slobbered all over his member.

Within a few moments though he was pulling me off panting out “okay you gotta stop now because I refused to not finish inside of you” and I mean, who was I to refuse that.

In a blur I was up on the counter again, Richard pushing me to lean back as he leaned over to inhale the smell of the mess that had been made in my panties.

A second later and my underwear was pulled down my legs and thrown over his shoulder to join the growing pile of clothing.

He grabbed under my knees pushing my legs back and outward to give him room to lean himself down and lick a long stripe up through my mound. His face came up to look at me, gleaming from my wetness that was now around his mouth, nose and chin. “You truly are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he proclaimed.

He turned his attention back downwards and he dove back in, this time focusing on my top area which houses the most sensitive, and unforgiving, bundle of nerves.

I could help but lean back on my arms and let out the loudest moan of the night between the two of us.

“Don’t stop making those sounds, love. I want to hear them all night long” he said, eyes now straying from the prize before him “lets let the hold neighbourhood know how good I’m making you feel”.

And with that he inserted his first first index into me, eliciting more of the moans he so desperately wanted to hear.

I couldn’t help reaching with one hand down to grab at his hair, pushing through from the grey streak at the front to the back of his head, while my other hand remained on the counter to support me upright.

“God Richard please, please god I’m gonna cum soon”

“Are you gonna cum for me baby? Hmm, you gonna cum all over my face for me? His voice muffled as he continued his feast devouring me within an inch of my life.

All I could do was groan and throw my head back desperate for release, “please Richard I need more, give me more”

And in an answer to my wishes he took the chance to insert a second finger. As he curled those large fingers of his up, hitting just the right spot, I couldn’t help but yell “FUCK RICHAAARD” drawing his name out with my release.

When I became reoriented I looked down to see Richard now back upright with his hands on either side of me as he leaned over me to dip down and glide his mouth over mine. I could taste myself on him as he slid his tongue in to entangle with my own, only causing me to release another moan due to the eroticism of it all.

Richard pulled away and said “Are you ready for me to fuck you so hard you won’t even remember the name of the movie you just saw?”

After letting out a low moan, I replied “if you set those expectations you better deliver on them”, finishing with a wink.

“When have I ever let you down in the pleasure department love” he chuckled as he bent down to give me a quick kiss.

“However,” he added, “ I am quite old and as much as I want to climb up here on the counter with you, my knees just aren’t built for that anymore so you mind taking this to the couch, love” he asked as he peppered kisses down my neck.

“Anything you need to deliver on the pleasure, old man” I joked, causing him to lightly bite my ear in rebuttal.

He leaned back and finally pulled his pants and boxers all the way off his legs before picking me up where I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the couch just a few meters away.

Immediately he was on top of me, the weight of him pressing into me and just making me more hot and bothered as I ran my hands down his back.

He really kept up with his training even after Eternals wrapped and I don’t doubt it was partly because he just knows how it affects me.

“Lean up, I don’t want any article of clothing separating us from each other” he claimed, as I sat up so he could unhook my bra.

I leaned back and immediately his mouth was around my one breast as his hand tweaked and pulled at the other breast’s nipple, causing me to let you another moan and proclaim “Richard I love you but I need you to get your cock inside me before I actually combust”.

I heard the muffled sounds of his laughter from between my breasts “okay love whatever you want, this night is now completely yours”.

With that he reached his hands down to grab my thighs and push them to the sides to open myself up to him. His mouth had now moved back to the crook of my neck, no doubt leaving more marks for me to cover tomorrow, as he reached down to guide himself to my opening.

Before entering however, he leaned back just enough so our noses were barely touching, as he looked me in the eyes to say “I love you” and held my stare as his cock entered me.

We both let out simultaneous moans, our heads each tilting back as we became overwhelmed in the pleasure.

“Ughh fuuuck” he let out through clenched teeth, “why are you always so fuckin right” as he neared fully entering me.

“Why are you always so fuckin bIG” I chirped back, as he slammed his hips into mine to completely enter me.

We both just paused in order to fully adjust and mentally calm each of our bodies down so we could last for more than 5 seconds.

“Okay I’m good” I breathed, “give it to me Richard”.

He didn’t need to be told twice as he began to thrust his hips in and out, and quickly picking up his pace.

Richard's hands then moved down to grab the backs of my thighs in order to wrap them around his waist, which enabled me to pull him in even closer.

“Baby girl you feel so good” he moaned, his upper half coming so he could capture my mouth with his. His rapid thrusts inhibited any rhythmic kissing, just a clash of tongue and teeth in an attempt to get as close as we possibly could to one another.

“Fuck Richard go deeper, harder, just more god I need more, just give me everything you have” I pleaded with him, nearing a state of complete delusion at the intensity of pleasure already.

“Yes ma'am” he replied and with that hitched my thighs up even more so that he could lift my legs up and over his shoulders.

“Oh-oHh my fuuck Richard, yes god, yes keep.. going.. yess” I tried to get words out to let him know how I felt as I was running out of air. Each thrust of his taking my breath away.

With the new position, the angle allowed him to reach the deepest point inside of me yet this evening.

“I can see myself bulging from your stomach, that’s so fuckin hot babygirl” he proclaimed as he leaned back to watch as he entered and excited my soaking cunt.

All I could do was lie there and nod along, complete delusion having set it as the pleasure overwhelmed me.

“Are you gonna cum for me baby, huh? You gonna let go for me and cum all over my cock?” He grunted out the words which furthered my state of incompetence.

All I could get out was a jumble of words, “fuck.. cum.. I’m.. hard.. there” which signalled to Richard I was nearing my release.

He breathed over me and said “yeah I know you want to come, can you come with me? I’m about to cum too. Cum with me while I fill you all up with my cum babygirl. ”

As he said those words he reached down to rub my clit and within a second I was bursting around him “oH Richard fuck fuck fuc fuh fuhhh” as my cunt contracted around his cock, which brought him to his release as well, “god fuckin hell, look at you squeezin my cock like that, you want every last drop in that pussy don’t ya” he moaned out, as he rocked out his final thrusts.

He removed my legs from him shoulders allowing him to rest down onto me, head going to the crook of my neck, his weight helping calm my rapid heart rate as I calmed down, both our breaths starting to slow.

“That was so good Rich, just what I nee-wHOA” I was pulled from my thoughts as all of a sudden I was flipped on to my stomach and his arms around my waist to pull me on to all fours. I turned around to find him kneeling on the couch behind me, palming at my ass.

“I think I owe you one more for all the heartbreak I put you through” he said with a wink, eyes twinkling with a slight hint of mischievousness. My mind drifted back to what had started all this in the first place, the movie, Ikaris, honestly seemed like a week ago at this point where I was in my mental state of pleasure mixed with exhaustion.

“I think you can give me one more, right baby? You give one more to daddy?

He knew that word was my kryptonite.

I let out a low groan and dug my head into the couch pillow as I felt one of his hands wrap around my waist as if to hold me steady, while the other inserted two of its digits into my sopping cunt.

I could hear the sound of our juices mixing as he thrust his fingers in and out, his thumb going to rub at my clit.

As sensitive and tired as I was, I couldn’t help my body from thrusting backward to meet his movements.

“Ri.. Richard.. I.. I don’t know.. I need” I could express anything I was feeling. I was so far gone.

Richard leaned his body over top of mine so he could whisper right in my ear, “C’mon baby I know you can do this for me, ready? When I tell you to cum you’re gonna cum for me, can you do that for me sweet girl? “

All I could give was a shaky nod in reply.

“Cum” he demanded.

And with that the dam broke. A gush of fluid spurting out of my cunt, drenching him and myself “fuuuuck” was all I had in me to moan out before collapsing on the couch.

I was zoned out, on the verge of sleeping when I felt kisses along my back up until they reached my cheek.

“I’ll be right back” Richard whispered in my ear and all I could give was a “hmm” in reply.

Seconds or minutes later I couldn’t be sure, I felt Richard's hands helping me to turn over, “I’m just going to clean you up a bit” he said before I felt a warm towel in between my legs cleaning up the mess we both contributed to.

“The couch.. oh god the couch” was all my mind could go to as I felt the wetness all around me.

“Shh shh it’s okay, don’t worry about that I’ll take care of it. Just relax for me, okay sweet girl?” I nodded in reply as he kissed my forehead.

Richard managed to get me seated and wrapped one of the couch blankets around me before scooping me into his arms to bring me upstairs to our bedroom.

I nearly fell asleep as I curled my face into his neck, but was awakened by the bright lights of the en-suite being turned on.

I let out a groan of displeasure from the bright lights and mumbling about wanting to go to bed.

“I know love, just need you to go pee first, don’t want you getting a UTI now don’t we?” he said as he led me to the toilet, and I grumbled an “I guess now” in return.

He left the bathroom to I assume ready the bed and give me some privacy. I finished my business and managed to get up and go wash my hands. As I looked in the mirror I looked so freshly fucked, I knew I’d have marks all over me tomorrow, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I zoned out just staring in the mirror until Richard appeared behind me, a single kiss to my neck interrupting my wandering thoughts, “let’s get you to bed” he said and pulled me to the bedroom.

He led me to the bed where he had a white T-shirt of his waiting to slip over me. After helping me into that he helped me tuck into bed before going to shut all the lights off and closed the blinds before slipping into bed himself. He layed close behind me, arm coming around my waist to pull me close to him, entwining our legs and head nestling into my neck.

With one last kiss to me cheek he whispered, “I hope I made it up to you enough, love”

“I still hate you” I said with a small smile on my face, my eyes already closed and ready for sleep.

“What if I called production and asked if I could get the costume to wear for you around the house, would that make things better, hmm?” He hummed in my ear.

“Yes,” I said “yes that would”.

A/N: Drop a like if you want more Richard/ Ikaris fics in your life :))

[rynne311]

Dinner Dates

Request: Hey I love your writing! Can you write a part 2 to grocery dates? Where baby Todd meets the rest of the Batman and the shenanigans that follow?? If you don’t want to, thats good too. I hope you’re doing well during this weird time! Thanks xx

Requested by: Anon...from like a year ago. Sorry for the long wait!

Word Count: 655

Sequel to Grocery Dates

"And you're sure Jason said 'we'?"

"Positive." Bruce confirmed.

"He's never brought a date back here," Dick mused. "Things really must be serious. I wonder what she's like."

"She kind of just babbles on about nothing," Damian supplied.

"You met her?"

"Yes. When I was stuck as Pennyworth's 'assistant.' He adores her." Damian didn't bother to hide the smirk on his face, relishing in his misdirection. As far as he was concerned, this was retribution for the last time they decided he should be treated like a child in front of the press.

"Well, tell us about her," Dick urged.

"I don't really know much else, but her name is Y/N." The looks of his captive audience urged Damian to continue. "Pennyworth trusts her opinion on produce, she apparently enjoys drawing, and-"

He was cut off by the sound of giggles floating into the room. As Jason appeared alone in the doorway, he was sure he could see his family try to adjust to the whiplash they subjected themselves to. It still pained him to see the disappointment on their faces when they registered it was only him standing in front of them.

"You said 'we,' but you're here just a 'you'," Tim said, deciding to forego all greetings.

"Y/N'll be in here in a minute," Jason assured them. "There was no way I was getting her away from Alfred that fast for tonight's little dinner date."

Dick decided to take the lead on the impromptu interrogation, barely letting Jason take a seat on the couch before firing off his first question. "So how did you meet her? How long have you been dating Y/N?"

"Dating Y/N?" Jason shot back incredulously. "Why would you think I'm dating a toddler? My toddler."

"But Damian said-" Tim interjected.

"I never said she was his girlfriend," Damian answered. He didn't make any attempt to hide the smug smirk "I was only asked what she was like, not her relationship to Jason. It's your own fault for assuming."

Before anyone could argue, you appeared in the doorway, walking in as though you'd lived here your entire life. Jason watched as everybody's eyes followed you as you climbed straight into his lap, and in that moment, he knew they'd all already fallen in love with you. He'd seen it happen time and time again beginning with the moment you'd been placed in his arms.

Jason pulled himself from his thoughts about how you always seemed to be the bright spot wherever you went and shifted his focus back to you and your excited retelling of your tour of the kitchen and dining room. It never ceased to amaze him how even the simplest places and things excited you. As he watched the excitement tumble out of your mouth with every word, he could see how much you needed to be here and have more people in your life that elicited this kind of excitement from you.

"What do you think, kiddo?" he started as you paused for a breath. "I rework some nighttime patrol stuff and you get more dinner dates over here with Papa and everyone else?”

The way your smile seemed to grow larger than he ever thought was possible was all the answer he needed from you. To him, you deserved the world, or at the very least, more family than just him.

“I, for one, think that’s an excellent idea,” Bruce agreed, a gentle smile on his face to try and charm you. “We’ll all have a chance to get to know each other better with these dinner dates.”

Jason struggled to stifle his laughter as you whipped your head around to the sound of the voice, and with the most inquisitive look he'd ever seen you questioned, "If this is Papa’s house, then who are you?"

In that moment you left no uncertainty that you were most definitely your father’s daughter.

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[kiridarling]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒

izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.

— 3.8k words

“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."

You’ve always hated Chopin.

“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”

After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.

You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.

You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.

A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.

“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."

He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.

"Well. Shall we?”

The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.

“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”

The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.

“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”

You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.

“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.

The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.

“Fifty-five million.”

The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.

“No one else?”

His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.

Until there’s movement from your peripheral.

“Sixty million!”

You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.

With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.

“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”

You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.

You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.

“Seventy-five million!”

“Eighty million!”

“One hundred million!”

In your defense, you were getting frustrated.

Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.

You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.

“Good evening.”

You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.

“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.

“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.

“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.

“Does it matter?”

“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”

“[Y/N].”

“Hmm?”

“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”

You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.

Okay. It irks you a lot.

“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”

Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.

“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”

You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.

“No.”

Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”

That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”

Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.

“I told you my name, no?”

“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“

“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”

Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."

You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.

“Where?”

Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”

Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.

“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”

“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”

But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.

“Fast food?”

Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.

“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”

You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.

"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.

"You remind me of him, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."

"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.

You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.

"Why haven't you ran, then?"

"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."

He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.

Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.

"The Louvre?"

"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"

"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"

But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:

"Watch this."

It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.

"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?

"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.

"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."

"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"

Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."

"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"

You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"

It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.

"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"

You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.

"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"

Izuku frowns. "Which one?"

"El Bacio."

"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."

You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"

Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."

You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."

You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."

"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."

Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."

You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.

“Cupid and Psyche?”

The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.

"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."

His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.

"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."

You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.

"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."

Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."

The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.

"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”

Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”

You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.

"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.

Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.

"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.

"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"

"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.

"No panties?"

You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)

"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.

Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.

"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"

Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."

Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.

"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."

With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.

"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”

Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.

“Izuku, wha—“

“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.

“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“

“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.

“Say it again.”

He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.

The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.

"Wha—"

"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.

"Do you always ask stupid questions?"

Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."

"I just sa—"

"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"

Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"

"Say it, brat."

"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."

Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.

"Good girl."

He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.

Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.

"Today, Izuku."

The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.

His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.

"O-Oh shi—"

"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"

You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—

Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"

You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.

"Bu—"

"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"

Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.

"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."

You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"

Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.

"You okay?"

You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."

Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”

You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.

Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.

"Police! Hands in the air!"

i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun

[kthynes]

meet cute

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

request: What about Chris meeting a cute girl at target. It's 10 pm and the reader is with a good friend buying some food. The reader is not from the USA she is from Germany and visit her friend in the USA. Chris and the Reader catch the Same thing and he can't keep his eyes of her even when she is younger than him (22years) - anon

warning: none, just marshmallow fluff

a/n: I honestly think there's so much sweetness and anticipation in first chance meetings. If I were to ever bump into Chris irl then this is how I would want it to pan out. Thanks for the request, anon! Stay lovin' folksss.

ALSO that look, that mf look. I'd die.

-:-

America is nothing like Germany or any other country you've visited in the past. Aside from economic differences and views in politics, you find that everyone here is generally accepting, a bit aggressive, but kind enough to overshare their thoughts. There is a jovial atmosphere that you find yourself attesting to and then there's also the glaring culture shock that assaults you left right and center. It has definitely been a happy adjustment.

"Becky Jane price check to cash five! Becky Jane price check to cash five." A woman hollers over the intercom as you and your good friend, Mia giggle down the aisles. You are in America visiting her for the first time after a long time. She's well settled, attending UMass, living her best life and you couldn't be any happier for her.

"So what should we make for dinner?" She turns to ask you.

"Anything is fine with me, I mean it's getting kind of late now and I'd be okay with cereal." You point to a box of Cocopuffs and your friend shakes her head.

"That's not the first meal you're having in America Y/N." She chides you before coming up with one of her better ideas. "C'mon let's go over to the produce section, we can grab some ingredients for my world famous spinach and feta lasagna!"

You laugh but a part of you is tempted to stay, still enticed by the large array of sugary breakfast cereals. "Actually you go on ahead I wanna look around here for a bit."

Your friend rolls her eyes. "Fine if you're really hellbent then we can have cereal for dessert. How does that sound?"

"Perfect." You smile at her as she shakes her head and trolleys down the narrow aisle way.

There are so many options and while standing in the middle of the aisle you can't help but take in the rows of corrugated and colorful boxes, all brandishing a character or mascot of some sort. You finally settle on one box, reach over to grab it but then come up short when another hand does the same. You gasp and unsubtly retreat in unison, there's that assurgency that parallels your feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness.

"Oh I'm sorry!" You say before getting a better look at the man standing right next to you.

"No that's alright." He chuckles as your eyes shamelessly widen. It's him. The all American ass man himself, Chris Evans. He seems unreal. A simulation almost as he's idling around in a fitted red plaid flannel, dark blue jeans and a NASA cap that has seen better days.

"You can have it."

"Er, um, are you sure?" You ask and he nods, playfully bouncing his brows at you with an immobilizing grin.

"Yeah I can settle for something else." He eyes the shelf and then picks out a box of Special K, fibrous and healthy.

"Oh no don't, here take it." You joust him with the box and his head drops, laughing softly.

"It's fine. I'm better off with this stuff anyways." He says while sticking around, edging for some more conversation as his eyes inconspicuously drinks you up. You bob your head up and down and purse your lips, flustered to even properly smile at the actor who looks proportionally the same in person, if not even more breathtaking.

"I'm Chris by the way. But I'm sure you already knew that." He states out loud and you nod slightly while closely holding onto the last box of Captain Crunch. "And you must be?"

"Y/N." You say softly and his face turns up with appreciation. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl he thinks to himself.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm guessing you're not from around here." You both walk the back aisles, perusing through at a snails pace.

"How'd you..." You falter.

"You have a slight accent." Chris admits, pointing to his mouth to gesture the lilt he's been carefully in tune with. Your mouth forms into an 'o.' "But it's cute though."

"Oh!" Your voice goes up a register and then back down again when you laugh at his double sidedness. "Yeah I'm not."

"That's cool, where are ya from? If you don't mind me asking, that is." Chris holds to himself, making sure that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries by making casual conversation.

"Germany." You state without any pressing objections.

"Ahh best known for Stollen and beer and not to mention, muesli." Chris comes off a worldly man as he factualizes this statement to you as if you weren't aware of the lifestyle itself. "Which makes you very deserving of that box of Cap'n Crunch."

"Oh yeah?" You quirk a brow in questioning.

"For sure. It's an American delicacy and right, have at it." You giggle upon hearing this and Chris finds it scintillating to hear. Wow.

"Well thank you for being so thoughtful Mr. Evans." You sweetly add.

"Of course, always a gentleman." He says with a large hand pressed against his chest, proving to be an honorable man.

"Have you ever been to Germany?" You set forth with another ask and he shakes his head no.

"No I haven't really travelled around Europe like that but I would love to." Chris pipes for you to mentally take note.

"You should go when you get the chance, it's lovely."

"Like yourself?" Chris flirtatiously rebuts.

"At most."

"So what brings you to America?" He ponders.

"My friend lives here and I thought I'd come down visit her for the holidays before going back to college." You tell him and he understandably nods, feeling a pang of disappointment course through him when he realizes that you're probably young if he'd gotten his vague calculations correct.

"That's great. And is that her?" You both approach the front of the store where it's wide open and there are no shelves keeping you two hidden away. You notice your friend Mia giving you a quizzical look of disbelief, as her eyes dance between you and Chris who's used to fan behavior at different paradigms.

"It is and now I'm not going to hear the end of it." You face him with an apologetic look, cueing to Chris that you had to go. He took this in good stride while nodding with solemnness. "I should get going."

"Okay, sure, yeah."

"It was very nice meeting you, Chris." You lightly touch his arm as your thankful way of departure.

"Likewise." He answers with his eyes looking down at you and holding you in place for a split second. First goodbyes were just as ungiving as last goodbyes, especially when there's a sense of unknowingness in being reunited again. There's that chance you forcible take in hopes that the universe will have a timely plan and alignment.

"Y/N?" Mia impatiently calls for you from across the threshold and there is some shared awkwardness in letting go.

"You should..." Chris starts, eyes closing slightly as you back away.

"Right, okay well bye!" You yelp before spinning around, tight on your heels and trudging towards your friend who is now looking at Chris with big, bulbous eyes. Mia's mind races, pieces and panders like any inquisitively gossipy best friend that could've been plucked straight from a 2000's rom-com. She sputters right as you appear in front of her.

"What just happened? How'd you... Y/N, that's Chris Evans!" Mia profanely surmises just as you drop the box of cereal into the cart. "You were talking and smiling and being all cute with Chris Evans!"

"I know. Don't ask."

"I have to because he's eyeing like a hawk Y/N!"

"Oh shit, he is?"

"See for yourself m'dear." She snickers.

You turn around and notice that Chris is waiting in line but his eyes are fully on you as the smile on his lips broadens. There's a substandard twinkle in his blue irises that thanks you for your time - surely an impactful encounter that has him slightly enamored by you in clear focus. And that is enough for you to be contented, knowing that you had an unconventional meet cute with Chris Evans.

Imagine that.

[fatefulfaerie]

Once Upon A Time

Long one shot under the cut. Every once in a while I obsess over Gelato (Roman x Neo) so...yeah...

Spoilers for RWBY: Roman Holiday (read it if you haven’t it’s so good!!)

He didn’t know how to treat it like anything but a heist.

Roman had definitely kissed a girl before, Bleu Berry at the orphanage when he was twelve, Crimsen Blank when he was fifteen, Verd Webster when he was seventeen, and then of course the off and on thing with Chameleon while he worked for Lil’ Miss.

But something about kissing Neo was special, something not to be messed up or done lightly like every other young woman he had kissed. He had to do it right.

It had seemed like a lifetime ago since Roman had planned a heist without Neo, and he found himself at a loss because of it. She really was the brains of their partnership...and the brawn…

Why was he even here?

Neo gave him a distinct look. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

He was staring again, at her instead of the television. His cover story was that he stared into space when he was really tired.

Lie.

It was really him taking glances from under her nose, like pickpocketing a stranger’s wallet.

Steal.

Cheat.

Survive

Love.

When did that get in there?

Normally when they sat down together to watch the large, holographic screen that emitted from Neo’s facedown scroll -- Roman still hadn’t gotten his hands on a new scroll. He was perfectly able to steal one of course, especially since the Vale City Mall had the most pathetic security. He just kept straight up forgetting -- they were watching themselves on TV, laughing about the coverage of their recent ridiculous robbery and eating spicy hot wings from the Cuckoo Crazy Chicken Shack.

This was the first time that Roman was thinking about someone else while watching his own name flash across the screen.

He was catching feelings for her, and there was no doubt about it. He had been catching feelings ever since she saved his life in the alley where she first showed off her semblance, and then more and more as they spent time together.

Roman pinpointed the moment she showed him the fabulous outfit she had made for him as that oh moment that you read about in romance novels.

Not that he read. He accidentally stole a book once. Once. Neo was the reader. He could hardly summon the patience. When Neo gave him a book to read, he skipped to the end. Roman didn’t see the point in all the rest.

But for some reason with this conundrum, this real-life conundrum, he couldn’t bring himself to skip to the end, to just kiss her like it meant just as much as any other kiss.

He tried to plan it like a heist, watching Neo, memorizing her routine, figuring the best moment of the day to perform the act, but it didn’t work. Neo was too unpredictable. She wasn’t like a bank or a warehouse that had their security guards on the same schedule every day. Her chaos was part of her charm, always doing the unexpected, but Roman was absolutely lost as to when he should make his move, if at all. They had a good thing going here, after all, and for all he knew he could kiss her one second and be knocked out cold the next.

Roman felt a slap on his shoulder and he looked over.

What the hell?

Neo was mute yet Roman could hear her say it. She must have been doing airplane arms before she slapped him.

She pointed at him and then her right ear, her forehead creased with inquisition.

“No, I am not going deaf,” Roman said.

She must have been clapping and snapping to get his attention.

“I’m just thinking,” he explained, the words spilling out just as he realized he might have to come up with an answer for what he was thinking.

But Neo nodded in understanding. What a wonderful human being. She mimed sleep, resting her head on hands that touched palms.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “Sleep. Good idea.”

Since his fancy condo was ambushed by Lil’ Miss, the two partners in crime had settled in an abandoned building that had gone from being a restaurant to a convenience store to a nail salon in the span of three months, before being abandoned for a year now. This street was a terrible place for an above-board business and even the Vale Government had let it rot, too small and inconsequential to be made into a factory or a warehouse of any sort.

Neo and Roman found it a week after the skirmish at the Vanille mansion. It was dilapidated and falling apart but it was only as broken as each of them were before they found each other. They quickly saw it as home.

So Roman stood up in order to head towards his bedroll in the corner. Neo watched him with a suspicious eye.

“Now that we’ve done as much damage as we could with the information from Mr. Vanille’s computer…”

Neo had already noticed that Roman never referred to the late Jimmy Vanille as her dad. Biologically he was her dad but he never treated her like a daughter.

“We may as well start on this dust business,” he continued. “Dust Till Dawn seems like the easiest target to me but I’d rather start bigger, something more fun.”

He turned around in case Neo had anything to add but she only stood up and paced towards him, using her semblance to change into Roman Torchwick himself. Roman looked at the mirrored version of himself as Neo made fun of the way he had been acting, staring with a blank expression, losing his train of thought. She then changed back into herself and shrugged her shoulders with her hands up as if to ask him why.

“I…I don’t know.”

He stammered. He rarely stammered.

She crossed her hands over her heart, then offered her hands to him. He knew what that meant.

Can I help?

She was always so thoughtful.

“It, umm…”

He had to be confident about this, he absolutely had to. He was Roman Torchwick, after all, the fabulous, the famous. He was fearless. He was clever and could get any girl he wanted, even the best of the best that stood in front of him. He could do this.

“Roman Torchwick this is the VPD,” a voice bellowed. Roman closed and opened his eyes.

“Why is it never you?” He asked Neo quietly, who was smirking. She stuck out her tongue.

“Come out with your hands up,” the loud voice continued. “We’ve got you surrounded.”

Neo turned back into Roman.

“Meet you at Forever Fall?” He asked.

Neo nodded and ran off to get caught by the police. Roman pocketed Neo’s scroll and grabbed Melodic Cudger and Hush, the two hooks of which clinked in his grasp.

“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Torchwick,” he heard as he was halfway out the window in the back. Roman froze and listened. He dared to let his vanity doom him. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t do you justice.”

Roman turned his head.

What was that supposed to mean?

He could see the scene barely, through a gap in one of the distant boarded windows. Neo, in his image of course, stood with her hands in surrender.

“A volatile jokester,” the policeman continued, circling around Neo. “Always has something to remark. Doesn’t seem to want to shut up.” He stopped his spherical pacing and turned on his heel. “Do you know where I got these phrases?”

Neo shook her head.

“Vale Police Department records,” he said. “It’s how they describe you, and it’s how I know you aren’t really in front of me right now, are you Torchwick?”

He felt the panic in his heart, he tried to slip out the window but his forehead met a gun as it cocked with a click.

Their strategy had worked twice already, a disguised Neo getting arrested as Roman fled to a rendezvous location. Neo would use her semblance to escape captivity easily and they would have cheated the system. But it seems the police caught on.

Roman was almost impressed as he bumped shoulders with Neo in the back of the cop car, their weapons confiscated and Neo’s scroll slammed in half by the heel of one of the officers. Their hands were literally tied and Roman might have found a way to fight his way out of this but hey, he had never seen the interior of the Vale Police Department before. He figured it was time for a grand tour of the rathole’s rat hole.

“What’s that?” were the next words out of his mouth twenty minutes later. The VPD building was disappointing. Roman regretted wanting a look inside within a couple steps.

“Semblance inhibitor,” the officer replied, latching a second pair of handcuffs onto Neo’s wrists and only Neo’s wrists. “New tech from Atlas. It drains aura.”

Neo looked at Roman with a flash of panic in her eyes. She was always so confident in her chaos that it was a rare sight to see her scared.

“It’s okay,” he managed softly.

“We’re submitting her for questioning,” the officer continued, nearly interrupted as if Roman hadn’t said anything. “And we’re sending you back to Mistral. Lil’ Miss will be elated to learn that you are alive.”

They began to pull them away along two different hallways.

“No,” Roman said, struggling. “No!”

He lurched for Neo with all his might and caught her lips. That one moment of vulnerability where she tried to keep him with her cost him his better sense as he was very nearly yanked away, only seeing Neo’s face in shock.

“She’s mute, you idiots!” Neo heard Roman exclaim. “She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. You lay a hand on her and so help me gods I’ll--”

A door slammed shut. Neo didn’t get to hear that last bit.

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

Trivia Vanille a.k.a. “Neopolitan”

Height: 4’10”

Age: 19

Prisoner ID Number: 827338

It was the first time in several years that she genuinely smiled in a picture, and it was a mugshot. Although she could see in her file the name that was dead to her, they referred to her verbally only as Neopolitan. The respect made Neo over the moon with happiness, made her almost forget her concern to get out of this without her semblance. The lock on her normal handcuffs were simple enough to pick once she was left alone but the one that shone blue and drained her energy even now would take a bit more creativity.

Roman Torchwick

Height: 5’11”

Age: 27

Prisoner ID Number: 827299

How many times did he have to tell them? He was six foot three. Six. Feet. Three. Inches. They never listened to him and it bothered him that it was on his permanent record that he didn’t measure up to at least six feet. For goodness sake, he was a celebrity. Any dunce on the street knows that he has orange hair, a white jacket, a grey scarf tied around his neck, and dashing emerald eyes. Everyone knows that he gave himself the birthday of October 31st (the mother who abandoned him at the orphanage didn’t care to specify the day that he had an excuse to steal cake) and that he was six foot three. It was on his mugshot and everything. He pleaded until he had two hands on the bars of his temporary holding cell. He was on his knees.

“Lights out.”

He sighed.

“Fine.”

He heard a foot stomp behind him. His cellmate was standing against the barred window that let in only streaks of moonlight, only fractions of nightlife and remnants of an already crumbled world.

He was a quite heavyset man and Roman’s heart skipped a beat. Roman was good in a fight but he wasn’t sure about these odds as he slowly stood up. This guy looked to have the strength of ten men and his arms were crossed.

Descending pink triangles dispelled the illusion and Roman choked a sigh of relief when the burly man turned into the small silhouette of Neo herself. Her hip cocked to the side and Roman knew, although he couldn’t see it, that she was smirking.

Roman rushed forth and hugged her, embraced her desperately like he never had before. He must have really thought they weren’t getting out of this one together.

“How?” he asked when they separated, his eyes searching her moonlit face.

Neo mimed picking a lock but then shook her head. She then mimed smashing her heel into an invisible pair of handcuffs between her two wrists and gave Roman a thumbs up.

“Good to know Atlas technology goes so fancy on design that brute force is the solution to breaking it. Would you like to pick the cell lock or shall I?”

Neo nodded and skipped to do just that, as if that were the easy part. Neo plucked pins from her mess of brown and pink hair and got to work kneeling before the lock and snaking her arms around the other side of the bars. Roman leaned on the bedpost and ignored his actual cellmate, the actual burly, wideset man who was knocked out on the bottom bunk and had a gnarly bruise the resembled Neo’s heeled boots across his face.

“About earlier, I…” Roman hesitated. “I guess I just wanted to apologize if I took you by surprise. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do, don’t get me wrong, I just…”

After several clicks, the door swung open and Neo turned around to face Roman, approaching him. Roman wondered if she had even heard him until she grasped his tied gray scarf and pulled him into her lips. It was all the answer Roman needed as they explored each other’s mouths, Neo slowly backing up and Roman chasing her, walking forward. When she let loose his lips they were out of the cell. She smiled. Roman was absolutely smitten.

She turned into a security guard, one they had seen earlier and she took his hand, Roman giggling under his breath as they fled from the Vale Police Department and into the wild night they had claimed as their own.

The memory became foggy, as it always did. It turned into a million other nights of chaos with him, all melding into a single lifetime that was now deceased. Trivia Vanille once died in the burning rubble of the Vanille Estate and left Neopolitan in her stead, but the moment Neo saw a blinding “X” over Roman’s aura gage a different Neopolitan had emerged. This one wasn’t languishing in her new sense of identity, wasn’t happy beyond belief in her friendship with this Torchwick guy. No, this Neopolitan was in pain, deep soulful, cutthroat, bleeding pain. When she threw a parasol and made her dad bleed she felt nothing. When her parents died because of the dust her dad harbored, she felt free. But when Roman died, she felt grief for the very first time, felt loss and lost in this world that didn’t understand her, would never understand her like he did.

Neo blinked her eyes open.

She liked when her dreams dipped into her memories up until the point where she woke up, where reality reminded her what was past and what was present.

It smelled like blood here. Neo had started to wonder if this is what it was like to be in the womb, gestating, trapped, waiting to be reborn in Salem’s image. The thought made Neo gag. This was the last place she wanted to be, seen as a mere chess piece in Salem’s game. She grew up as a chess piece that had been discarded, then used, then discarded again, like a dirty towel her parents kept forgetting about. What once liberated her was her newfound knowledge that her decisions could be her own but now she was CInder’s helper? beneficiary?

She would have to stomach it until Cinder upheld her end of the deal and got her to Ruby Rose.

Neo pushed against the bed she was assigned and sat up, although she would use the term bed extremely loosely. It was a hunk of red rock and the small room looked like the maw of a Grimm more than anything else. Neo would quantify it to a torture chamber if there wasn’t a small young man literally being tortured a few rooms over. She at least had it better off than him, but that didn’t say much.

Neo steadied her breath and closed her eyes. She thought of him, not the boy who screamed in anguish down the hallway but him. Roman. She thought of his brown, leather slip-on shoes and how much he hated the hassle of tying laces. She thought of his dark grey pants and how they collected around his ankles. She thought of his white coat and remembered tailoring it to his size, remembered thinking of the moment she would surprise him with it. She remembered his gloves and how it felt to be held by those hands. She remember his grey scarf and tried not to think about how it was on her neck instead of his. She tried to think of his piercing green eyes and his pumpkin orange hair, his bowler hat that had a red ribbon and a grey feather. She tried to remember his voice.

She opened her eyes and stood up slowly, pacing towards the illusion she had created, feeling tears sting in her eyes, feeling her heart beat with relief she tried to subdue.

“Neo,” he said softly.

She bawled, tears streaming down her face. She took the hat off her head and put it on her doll. She cupped his face with her hands and found herself missing having to go on her tippy toes like this.

Neo thought she could hold the illusion long enough to at least hug him, to at least derive some comfort from her memories and what her semblance was able to do with them. Yet, the illusion just as soon shattered, crumbling into shards of glass. Neo’s gasp was shaky as she looked down into her palms. Her breaths matched no rhythm and her soul bled as if she had lost him all over again. She looked up.

Cinder.

Her lip quivered. Neo couldn’t help it. Her brow furrowed in anger despite her sadness. The pink and the brown were like flames. And yet Cinder couldn’t even see her hate. No one could see anything of her.

“Salem wants everyone on the bridge,” Cinder said. “Welcome to reality.”

She walked off without a care and Neo fell to her knees, gathering the glass shards. She seethed with anger as she held them delicately in her hands. Her panting increased as balled her hands into fists, not caring in the slightest the sharp pain in her palms or the blood staining her white gloves.

She made a silent promise to Roman then, not to live for herself like she once did but to survive long enough to give Ruby Rose everything she deserved.

[mister-supernova]

Missed Connection

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader 

It’s almost been a month since your encounter with the stranger you believed to be from your dreams. Without any luck of seeing her again, you were beginning to think that maybe that’s all she was; just some mere figment of your imagination that you so desperately wanted to have all the answers you needed. 

As insufferably difficult this summer was for you, you still managed to get through it. You thought it was because school wasn’t in session and that you’d be back in your element in no time once classes begin again. 

That was what you had hoped for anyways, but alas even when the halls were filled with your peers and your routine was back in place, nothing seemed to change. The mysterious void in your chest didn’t ease like you wished it would.

You couldn’t help but wonder if your friends had been feeling the same way, too. Surely there’s no chance that you could be alone in this situation, right? 

“You can’t tell me that things haven’t felt a little weird since Landon destroyed Malivore. He doesn’t even know how it happened, Lizzie.” 

The blonde Saltzman nearly whips you in the face with her hair as she abruptly turns to face you in the crowded hallway. “Y/n, we live in a world where witches, werewolves, and vampires exist. Everything in our lives is bound to have a tiny amount of weirdness.”

She made a good point and you knew that, but you also knew that this feeling was different. It had to be. 

Lizzie frowns at the disappointed look on your face and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Look, the most important thing is that Malivore is gone. No more bizarre monsters coming to kill us every week. Now try to stop overthinking things and let’s get through this school year in peace.”  

Before you knew it, your conversation ended just as quickly as it started and Lizzie was on her way back to class. You hang your head with a defeated sigh, desperately searching the hallway for someone who may be just as lost as you were. Instead, you see everyone going about their first day back like normal. 

Students who were away with their families are now smiling brightly as they reunite with friends. Other groups of friends laugh at a joke another says as they pass you by and you wonder if there was someone you should be doing that with.

The clarity that you sought out today only made you more confused than ever. At this point you wished that it was still summer vacation because seeing your classmates having a great first day back had you thinking that you really were alone with your feelings.  

Maybe you just needed a day to hang out with your friends after class today. They may not share your thoughts on how odd things have felt recently, but being around them definitely helps clear your head. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. You know Landon and I would be down to watch a movie or something, but we’re going on our official first date today.” Josie tells you, disheartened. 

After the multitude of movie dates the two of them shared throughout the summer, you’re surprised that none of those had been labeled as dates, but you weren’t going to tell her that outloud. The two of them seem to be really happy to be spending so much time together and you weren’t going to get in the middle and be the third wheel no one wants, especially on a first date. 

“No worries, Jo. I’ll ask Lizzie and MG if they’re free.” She gives you a gentle squeeze on your arm with a sympathetic smile before you go off to find her sister. 

Things didn’t seem to be going to plan here either.

“If I hadn’t already agreed to this stupid- I mean,” she grits her teeth with a forced smile, “very cool study date with MG I’d totally hang out with you. God knows I’d rather do anything else.” You knew you weren’t supposed to hear that last part, but Lizzie was always awful at lowering her voice. 

If you weren’t already feeling distraught, this definitely was the cherry on top of your depressing cake of sadness. 

Instead of showing Lizzie that, you plastered the fakest smile you could and responded with, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just… hang out downtown and get myself a milkshake at the Grill or something.” 

Plan “get your friends to distract you from the abrasive thoughts penetrating your brain” had failed, but you weren’t going to let it stop you from at least getting out of the school for a couple of hours. With everyone so busy while classes are back in session, it made you wonder what in the world you did after school before this year. 

As much as you tried hyping up how fun it was going to be hanging out downtown by yourself, it only made you feel even more bummed out. Like everything else you’ve been doing since the night Malivore was destroyed, something felt off and nothing seemed to be your remedy.

Minutes turned to hours and you ended up drinking four full glasses of cookies and cream milkshakes at the Grill, literally falling into a sugar coma at your table outside. The sun was barely setting when you got here, but then it was fully dark out when you were woken up from your sugar rush nap. 

“Jesus, Y/n. I thought you were dead or something.” You lean your head upwards to see that it was Landon who woke you from your slumber. 

“One could not be so lucky, phoenix boy.” You groggily respond, stretching out your muscles and wiping any drool from your cheeks.

Looking at your surroundings, you notice that Josie isn’t around. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” 

There’s a pained look on Landon’s face at your question, “Yeah, about that… she, uh, she said she wasn’t feeling too good and decided to go back to the school.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “What, did you take her to eat sushi or something?” 

That was meant to be a joke, but the look of realization on the curly-haired boy’s face told you all you needed to know. 

“You went to a sushi place.” 

Landon quickly slides into the seat across from yours, “It’s what I suggested. W-Was I not supposed to?”  

“Jo can’t digest any sort of raw food without wanting to convulse. I learned that the hard way when I first started going to the Salvatore school,” you shiver at the memory, “Never again.” 

The phoenix begins falling into a full state of panic, “Oh my God. I didn’t know that! Wh-What am I supposed to do? What if I completely ruined everything? What if she never wants to go on another date with me again? What if-” 

Your patience was thinning very quickly, “Landon, just relax. Take a breather for a second,” you inhale, watching him do the same, and breathe out at the same time, “Go back to the school, check up on her, have a convo about getting some better communication skills and I’m sure everything will be fine.” 

Landon nods, “Okay, okay yeah. That’s good. I’ll, uh, I’ll do that,” he continues to sit across from you until you look at him expectantly, “Do I do that now?”

“For your sake, Josie’s, and especially mine, yes. Now would be great, buddy.” 

“Right, okay. Thanks, Y/n!” He scrambles out of his seat and begins to shuffle away from the Grill. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You shout with as much enthusiasm you could muster before slumping back into your chair. 

Still dazed from the sugar rush nap and exhausted from that conversation, you lean forward with your elbows on the table and begin wiping the sleep from your eyes using the palms of your hands.

“This is gonna be one hell of a year.”  

“Long day, huh?” You recognize that it’s a girl’s voice you’re hearing, but not one that was familiar to you. 

Moving your hands away from blocking your view, you look up to see the person you convinced yourself was just a figment of your imagination. The long auburn colored hair, fair-skinned, blue eyed girl from your dreams was standing right before you. For a moment, you thought that maybe you really had lost it. 

“Sorry. I just, I saw you sitting here earlier and thought you might want company.”

You’re almost positive that you were staring at her with your mouth hanging open like an absolute idiot. Just say something, dumbass!

“Mind if I join you?” She asks, gesturing towards the now empty chair that Landon left behind. 

“Yes!” 

Idiot! 

“I mean no! No, I uh, I don’t mind.” You chuckle nervously, adjusting yourself in every way possible to hide the fact that you were internally freaking out.

The girl gives you a patient smile before taking the seat in front of you, “So, party of one tonight, huh? I mean, I saw you finish talking to someone right now, but it didn’t seem you two were here together.” 

“Yeah, no. Not together at all or with anyone really,” for some reason you had to make this very clear to her, “That was just a friend of mine who’s having some lady troubles, so I decided to be a good samaritan and give him some positive advice.”

“How chivalrous of you.” Right away you could tell that she was teasing and the nerves you had seconds ago simply began to vanish. 

“Why thank you,” you smile, feeling a wave of warmth when she returns one back, “But yeah, it’s just been me, myself, and I for the night… and day… and probably for the rest of the school year if I’m honest.”

Her smile fades and she tilts her head inquisitively, “What makes you say that?” 

Oh, where to begin. 

“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now actually. Everything should feel perfect given the fact that I have these amazing friends, I go to this incredible school, I’m 100% healthy and not dying of anything that I know of,” you shrug at yourself, “I should be happy with that, but I’m not. It feels so selfish of me to say and I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. How can everything be so close to perfect, but yet there’s still something wrong?” 

The girl stares at you with such empathy and sadness in her eyes that you could swear she was holding something back. 

You continue, “Things also haven’t felt normal lately. My definition of normal anyways. For some reason everything has felt completely off, like I’m missing something. You know when you forget that there’s somewhere you’re supposed to be? Like an event and you don’t realize you’ve forgotten about it until the day of and you say to yourself, ‘oh shit, I can’t believe I forgot about this really important thing’. That’s how I’ve felt ever since summer started,” you notice her tense up slightly, but you continue, “but I can’t remember what I’m forgetting.”

At this point, you were surprised this girl didn’t think you were crazy and start running for the hills. If this were any normal stranger, you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to overshare the thoughts you’ve been keeping secret from your close friends. For some reason, she made you feel the complete opposite. Strangely enough--given the world you live in--you felt safe with her.

“Everyone at school is making me feel like I’m the only person who feels this way. Everyone else can go back to normal. Everyone else can move on and go on dates and study dates and hang out with their friends and go to class without feeling lost and overall just be… normal.” You finally let go of the breath you had been holding in for what feels like months.

Then you start to laugh at the ridiculousness that just spewed out of your mouth, “Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry. You probably thought you were going to have an innocent ‘nice weather we’re having’ type of conversation, but instead you got a stranger dumping their whole life crisis onto you.” 

“You really don’t have to apologize. Trust me, I understand how insanely messed up life can get and how relieving it is to just vent it all out,” she gives you a reassuring nod with a genuine look of understanding that you’ve been wanting to see for months, “Even if it’s to someone who can potentially be a serial killer.” 

The both of you burst out into a fit of laughs and you swear that you’ve never felt so connected to a person you just met. It was as if your souls had met in another life and were catching up for the first time in a while. Neither of you had a name to place with your faces, but that didn’t seem matter because you already felt like you’ve known this girl for years. 

“I’ve had quite a rough couple of months myself. Not sure if I’d binge drink four cookies and cream milkshakes to numb the pain though.” 

You shrug, “Well, it’s better than the latter option that I can’t even legally purchase because I’m underage. Plus, it helps that these are the best milkshakes in town--even if they are 4 dollars a glass.” 

Now you’re hoping that your old co-worker can cover your bill since you only brought ten dollars with you tonight. Before you could reach for your wallet just to be sure, another thought crossed your mind. 

“Wait. How did you know they were cookies and cream? I know it’s a lot of milk to force inside by body, but I normally leave no trace of evidence behind. Are you a witch or something?” That last part was obviously a joke otherwise she’d be at your school by now.

The girl opens her mouth to speak, but it takes her a moment to come up with an explanation, “It was my best friend’s favorite. Yeah, we used to go out for milkshakes all the time and I guess something about you reminds me of them.” 

You smile, flattered, “Well, might I say, your best friend has amazing taste,” she purses her lips into a tightened smile and lowers her gaze, almost as is the memories of this said ‘best friend’ pained her to think about, “I’m assuming things aren’t so great with them right now?”

She sighs at the thought, “We were close for a long time. I’m actually surprised that they stayed as long as they did. I probably gave them a million reasons to bail, but they were annoyingly persistent,” she chuckles, “I’ll admit, it took me a while to settle into our friendship, but the moment I did was something I would never regret. From that point on the only thing that could separate us was death.” 

Judging by her heavy use of past tense words, you could only think the worst happened, “Did they, you know, um…?” You didn’t want to ask the full question seeing that she was clearly still hurt by the absence of this person. 

She shakes her head, “No. No, it turned out death wasn’t the only factor that was able to keep us apart. We meant a lot to each other and later realized that there was more to us than just friendship. Eventually, things started becoming serious but me being the person I am, I pushed them away and left.”

“Have you tried reaching out to them again?” You thought that there was no way two people who felt those intense feelings could completely forget about each other.

“Once, but things changed. They took one look at me and acted as if I never existed.” Maybe it was the empath in you, but it broke your heart seeing a small pool of tears building up in her eyes. You wished that you could say something to make her feel better and tell her that everything will be okay, but how could you when you don’t know her?

She quickly wipes the tears before they could fall and takes in a deep breath that you instinctively mirrored to compose yourselves. 

“I guess it’s my turn to say sorry, huh? I feel like my baggage was a little heavier than yours there,” she sniffs, huffing out a light chuckle. 

“Well, if we’re giving out medals here, you’ve got the gold. That’s for sure,” you grin, hoping to lighten up the mood.

Her laugh--that you could tell was genuine--gave you the assurance you needed. 

“I feel like I should give you a hug. I mean, if you’re cool with that,” you suggest, ready to push yourself out of your seat, “Because I could kind of use one and I’m just assuming--” 

“That would be great, yeah,” the girl nods with a relieved smile. 

“Alright, great.”

The two of you stand, moving around the table to meet each other in the middle. Her head seemed to fit perfectly against your chest as her arms pressed behind your back. All of the weight that had been piling up on your shoulders began to fall at your feet and the tension from stress that built up inside your chest began fading away. How this could happen from an interaction with a complete stranger, you had absolutely no idea. 

“Is it weird if I say this doesn’t feel weird?” You ask with the side of your head leaned against hers. 

“Well, I think things are only weird when someone makes it weird.” 

You pause for a moment, “Do you think this feels weird?”

She laughs and you know for a fact that she could hear your heart skip a beat, “No. I don’t.”

You fight the goofy grin from appearing on your face, but fail miserably, “Okay, good.” 

Part of you was afraid of what’ll happen the moment you separate. You had no idea when would be the next time you see this girl or if there was going to be a next time. This was the first day in a while when you didn’t feel lost, instead you felt that this was exactly where you needed to be. You felt normal.

Before you could actually start making things weird, you begin to pull away from her embrace, “Well, tonight I learned that I can click with a stranger within a span of ten minutes give or take, so thank you for that.”

She smiles, “Thank you, too.”

“I think it’s safe to say that we’re at the point of learning each other’s names now.” 

“Yes, because why start with those when we could just tell our whole life stories and share an intimate hug first?”

“Exactly! Actually, you know what? I think we should get married in Vegas really quick and we’ll just figure out our names during the vows section of the wedding ceremony. Whatever we come up with in the moment will just be how we refer to each other for the rest of our lives,” you joke. 

“You’re absolutely right.” Wow, a girl who can keep up with your sarcasm without thinking you’re a complete--huge emphasis on complete--idiot? She is the girl of your dreams--literally and metaphorically. 

You stared down at her in wonder, hoping to God that you’re not dreaming and that this interaction has been real, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/n by the way. My name. Y/n L/n.” 

“Hope. Hope Marshall,” she reveals and a victorious smile appears on your lips when you finally have a name to match a face. 

Your smile quickly drops when the clock tower starts going off and you realize that it’s nearly midnight, “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you tonight, Hope. I'm sorry to cut the rest of the evening short, but my school just got a new headmaster and unfortunately he’s a lot more strict on our curfew than our previous one. Don’t want to turn into a pumpkin, you know?” 

She chuckles, “No worries at all. It was nice meeting you, too, Y/n,” Hope smiles and you can tell that she didn’t want to leave. If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to either. 

Neither of you could find the energy to be the first person to walk away. To do that would be like trying to separate two annoyingly strong and stubborn magnets apart.

As much as you wanted to spend the whole night learning more about each other, you also didn’t want to be put in detention on the first day back at school. 

Unwillingly, you take the first step backwards without wanting to fully turn away from your newfound acquaintance, “Thanks again for the chat. I hope to see you again very soon, Marshall.”  

Hope rolls her eyes, but can’t contain a smile, “Only if you’re lucky.”

“I think I like my chances,” you wink playfully before turning your heel to make your way back to the school feeling the most energized you’ve felt in a long time.

~

apologies for the later update than usual with this series and I apologize in advance if it takes a while for part 6 to be posted. I’m in a bit of a writing funk right now and my mind is currently locked onto the Wilds soooo there may or may not be imagines for that fandom coming from me soon. anyways, happy late 2021 and here’s to hoping this year isn’t complete shit! much love y’all

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {21}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, ANGST, Plot, Fluff, Mildly NSFW, Violence, Blood, Death, Verbal mention of Rape, Potentially Triggering Discussion

Words: 6.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

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

-Uriah-

You pushed off of him to an upright position, not sure you’d heard him right. “Say what!?”

 Chris sat up as well and leaned on the headboard.

 “Yeah. Abel, the detective, found that the video was doctored. It was spliced together using so many different audio clips dating back to when Knives Out was announced. She had someone doctor it to make it seem like it was me, or recent and current me.”

 You were ready to claw her eyes out. “That bitch!”

 Chris sighed. “That’s not it,” he began. He reached for your hand and brought you closer. You swung your leg over his lap and sat on his thighs, giving him your undivided attention.

 “Remember the picture of her in the sweater?”

 Clenching your jaw, you nodded. “The one from your room?”

 He nodded. “You’re right—it was from my room.”

 You gaped at him, ready to lunge at him, but you stopped yourself.

 “She snuck in, stripped down, and posted it. Abel was able to get security footage from the hotel. She bribed one of the housekeeping staff. They let her in, and it was at the same time I was on call for press. The timestamp shows it. I’m thinking she knew it would set you off and create problems between us.”

 You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was insane. Why would someone go to these lengths?

 “Wow.” You rubbed your forehead, trying to wrap your head around everything. Not only were you still grappling with everything that happened since the accident, including things with Christiano, but the babies and Chris’s downward spiral, but now this. “Oh my god.”

 “The investigator uncovered a video from the hotel—and so much more.” Chris released a heavy breath then took your hand. “It all points to her, Riah.”

 His fingers traced imaginary patterns on my hand and along the length of my fingers.

 “And the text messages?” You couldn’t help yourself. Chris looked up from your hand and to your waiting eyes. The look on his face was an inquisitive one. “The ones between you and her about us,” you finished.

 There was no look of shock; he just looked resolved, as if he somehow knew that you knew.

 “How do you know about that?”

 “I did something crazy,” you began before pausing to find the right way to explain.

 It only took a few moments to forego any strategic plan and lay it out. So that is what you did. You explained your mission impossible operation with Kizzy and Zora a few weeks ago at Chris’s press junket. You explained being in the elevator to witness Ana’s blatant flirting. You explained, taking her purse and going through her phone to find out how devious she was. By the time you finished, the silence in the room was deafening. Chris hadn’t moved or spoken since you began. The look on his face was so masked and neutral that you couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of an angry outburst or a disappointed one.

 Suddenly Chris snorted loudly then laughed obnoxiously, clapping his free hand across his chest. The laugh went on so long to the same caliber that you couldn’t help but join in. So the two of you sat there laughing together for several long minutes. Once both of you were laughed out, you just stared at each other.

 “I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Chris started first, continuing to rub your hand. “I knew who I married.”

 He sighed and shook his head. That was when you saw the remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it all, but I didn’t want to hurt you or have you doubt me.”

 Chris clenched his jaw then crinkled his brow. “In hindsight, I know it looked really suspicious. There are so many things I see now that I didn’t then. I shouldn’t have even had those text exchanges. It’s not her place to know anything small or not about our marriage. Jesus.” Chris took his hand away then raked it through his hair before locking his hands behind his neck—one of his frustrated ticks. His eyes were dropped to your thighs, and that’s where they remained.

 “I’m sorry, Riah.”

 His voice sounded clouded, and that was the only indication you needed to know his emotions were getting the better of him.

 “I’ve been so stupid. So stupid,” he choked out.

 “Baby.” You slid closer to him, grabbing his elbows to pull them down to rest on top of your thighs. “Look at me.”

 You raised his chin so he was looking into your eyes. His tears stained his cheeks and welled his eyes. You’d wanted him to see the error of his ways so many times. You’d wished he could see it your way and understand, and now that he did, you should have felt vindicated, but you didn’t. There really were no winners when the family feuds.

 Dropping your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled his scent.

 “I’m sorry, dragonfly,” Chris whispered, wrapping his arms around you holding you close. “So sorry.”

 “Baby—look at me.”

 He pulled back enough for you to peer into his eyes. As you caressed his cheek, you spoke.

 “It’s okay. I—you--,” you sighed, then traced your thumb across his bottom lip. “I understand. There has been so much—pain, so much sorries and--.” Again you stopped for a few seconds.

 “No more,” you finished.

 Chris slowly nodded his head, grasping your meaning. He then kissed your thumb and nuzzled his bearded jaw into your palm. Though you wanted to move on, there was one more burning question, one more thing you had to know. Nibbling your bottom lip, you found your courage.

 “Were—were you tempted?”

 You couldn't look at him, so you kept your head down.

 “What? Tempted? To do what?”

 Meeting his eyes, you swallowed, then continued.

 “Cheat,” you whispered.

 Chris sat up straight, and he cupped your face within his large hands. His eyebrows were crooked with the intense, take me serious look he always got when he was about to say something important.

 “Look at me. Never.”

 You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you.

 “Listen and hear me, Uriah, never, ever. I would never. I told you I married you for a reason. I had a plan. Forever and a day, Uriah. You promised me forever and a day, and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”

Fighting the tears, you scoffed. “You were a jackass. When I tell you a woman wants you, don’t doubt me.”

 Chris smiled and nodded. “I was. Never again. We don’t be here again. I’m going to be Pence from now on. You must be present at all times, or I’m not alone with any women.”

 You busted out laughing, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the heaviness of the last few weeks. It felt almost normal, like the two of you were on your way. Chris kissed you once, then twice before resting his forehead to yours.

 “We have to nail her ass to the wall,” you declared, staring into his eyes.

 “Oh, definitely. What did you have in mind, Mrs. Evans?”

 “You didn’t file the papers?”

 Chris scoffed, then rolled his eyes.

 “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re gonna have to try harder than divorce papers to get rid of me, Dragonfly.”

 Again you smiled. “So whatever I want, you won’t be the voice of sympathy?”

 “Whatever you want, kitten,” Chris replied, kissing the tip of your nose, making your belly flutter in the process.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m so happy that you’re okay, sweetheart,” your mother said as she pulled you into a group hug with your father.

 “I’ll be okay, mom.”

 Your father cupped your cheek, taking the time to inspect your face. You knew he wasn’t looking for physical harm. He was realizing how close he’d come to losing you, how he’d failed you. You could tell. When Chris had called them to update them, they instantly wanted to hear your voice. When they did, they broke, and that breaking turned to shattered when everything came out.

 You’d spent two hours on the phone with them, listening to them apologize and blame themselves for putting so much trust in Christiano. They felt horrible for never suspecting that he would stoop so low. They begged you not to hate them, begged you to forgive them. It was easy to promise them you weren't angry because you understood. You didn’t blame them or hold a grudge for them not doing more. They had no idea who Christiano really was—you didn’t either. The only one who ever saw him for who he was, was Chris.

 “I’m so sorry, Uriah. As your father, I should have done more to keep you away from him.”

 “Daddy, don’t. There is nothing you could have done. You did the best with what the information you had—you all did,” you assured, looking around at the faces of everyone you loved, both your family and Chris’s.

 Lisa approached and pulled you into another hug. You could feel her tears.

 “I’m okay, I promise.”

 “I am so happy that you are.” Her hand dropped to your bump, and she smiled. “That you all are.”

 Just like that, the waterworks started again, and everyone huddled around you, everyone but Chris, who was standing back most likely watching with a cheesy smile on his face. When they released you, your guess was correct. Chris smiled, then winked at you.

 “So how are we getting those sons of bitches?”

 All eyes snapped to Zora, who looked as if she was ready to rip out a heart and eat it.

 “Down girl—Chris has already laid the groundwork,” you said.

 “And it was easy, just play into that colossal ego of his,” Chris finished, kissing my temple.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

MSG Love Of My Life: Remember, don’t let him goad you. He’s going to try.

 He scoffed; it was an understatement.

 MSG: I’m good. He can’t get me to because I have what he doesn’t, and I know something he doesn’t.

MSG Love Of My Life: You do have me. Forever and a day, my love. <Kiss emoji, heart emoji>

MSG: You should have let me go with you. I don’t like you’re alone.

MSG Love Of My Life: I’m not alone. I have my parents, Kizzy, Zora, your sisters, your mom, our lawyers. I am far from alone.

MSG: You know what I mean.

MSG Love Of My Life: I don’t think I could relive it all with you next to me anyway. It’s better this way. I’ll see you soon. Remember what I said. <Kiss>

 He sighed and tried to push aside the guilt he felt. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand. You’d gone through too much alone, and all he wanted to do now was protect you.

 MSG Scott: Need me to come up?

MSG: Nah, I can handle this.

MSG Scott: Okay.

 He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the canyons and LA down below. It was a beautiful sight, one he liked a lot but not better than the changing leaves of Autumn in Massachusetts. He would never choose LA over them. It was, however, a good change of pace, but it staled quickly. Standing here, it was easy to forget the chaos of the last few months. Easy to forget that merely days ago, he’d thought his life was over, and it would never be the same.

 “I can’t believe you suggested this. What, you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s cool; I don’t mind helping you with that.”

 The sound of his voice was enough to make him want to turn around swinging, then drag him to the edge and kick him off Sparta style. He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he’d done to you. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, and slowly released a breath. Once he was sure he had some sort of control over his reflexes, he turned. Christiano looked as smug as ever. He’d never wanted to take a life, but right now, right here, he thought of at least ten ways in under one minute. They all involved pain.

 “So, what air is there to clear?”

 He clenched his jaw before he spoke.

 “She’s still my wife.”

 “Ah, ah, ah, according to those divorce papers she sent over, even that is limited time. Face it man; you’ve lost. I’ve won. I always win. I always get what I want, no matter what. It’s hilarious to me that you thought swooping into her life like that and marrying her on a whim would have changed things. Uriah has always been mine. She was always meant to be mine.”

 His hatred for the man in front of him was already at toxic levels. He had no idea how it was possible for it to increase. Staring at him and hearing the venom he just spewed did the trick.

 “So, this is just a game to you? This is her life—this is our life. All of this is for what?”

 “To win what’s rightfully mine. I’m Christiano White. I get what I want when I want it, and that includes women. No one takes what’s mine. No one, and she’s mine!”

 The smugness on his face was the most upsetting thing. He didn’t care hearing him profess fake ownership. He didn’t even care that Christiano thought he had so much privilege that he would get away with his insane plane. Even the thought that him being Christiano White meant jack shit. What really got to him was the fact he’d done this to prove some stupid, sick point. He’d played with his life, your life, and the life of his children for the sake of winning. He stepped to Christiano, ready to push his ass off the cliff, but before he touched him, the thought of you and those innocent babies flashed into his mind. There was no way he’d do this to you guys, he thought.

 Gathering some calm, he stepped back. Christiano chuckled.

 “Thay’s right. Recognize when you’ve lost, and oh, have you lost. Let me tell you how bad you’ve lost. She was in my bed, letting me touch her, kiss her, please her. She shouted my name, over and over. Not yours.”

 He scoffed. “You sure? My name’s Chris. Did she say, Christiano?”

 The smirk on Christiano’s face slipped, and rage replaced it. It was a small piece of satisfaction, but it was worth it, especially since he knew for a fact you’d called his name—Chris and not the latter. Though your brain didn’t remember him, your subconscious did, your heart did, your soul did. There was no room for anyone else. He nearly laughed in Christiano’s face because it had taken him this long to grasp that fully. There had only ever been you and him.

 “You only have yourself to blame. Who would dare cheat on Uriah? Who would think to replace a diamond with a pebble? You’re an idiot,” Christiano jabbed before he laughed out. “Don’t worry, once we’re married, things will be better for her.”

 “How do you plan on getting married if we’re still legally married?”

 For the second time, the smile Christiano wore slipped. He looked around as if he expected someone to come out.

 “For now,” Christiano scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you walking up behind Christiano. Catching on, he spun around.

 “Babe, what’re—what’re you doing here? I thought we were meeting tonight.”

 Christiano approached you with his arms out, but you walked past him to his waiting arms instead. Once he wrapped his arm around your waist, you kissed his lips, then turned to Christiano, who looked confused, angry, and a few other emotions he most likely hadn’t put together yet.

 “For always,” you said.

 “What the fuck!”

 “Surprise,” he said, slipping his hand down to your hip. Christiano’s eyes dropped to his hand before he clenched his jaw. The annoyance from minutes ago was worth it.

 “What was the plan, Christiano? It’s bigamy to be married to two people at once. Our marriage would have been null in void. What was the goal!?”

 Christiano took a step to you, making him grip your hip tighter, ready to get in between you.

 “I’m better than him. I’m richer, I look better, and I’m better in bed. Admit it, Riah. I don’t lose to men like him. I wasn’t done with you,” Christiano confessed with bitterness in his voice.

 You pulled from him, taking a step to Christiano. “So you decided to turn me into a pawn! You decided to lie to me, manipulate me and—rape me?!”

 “Shut up, I didn’t--,” he began before you cut him off.

 “Yes, you did! I was not of sound mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know who I was. You knew. You fucking knew, and you used that and stole from me. Admit it!”

 Sensing things were about to go south, he stepped between the two of you, pulling back to a safe distance.

 “That’s right, fuck it! Yes, I did all of that. I’ll admit it. Yes, I manipulated you to get what I wanted. I couldn’t lose to this dick. I couldn’t let you go. I wouldn’t. I did what was necessary. I took what was mine, and I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

 That was all he could stomach before he turned and decked him with all the force he possessed. Christiano dropped to the dirt and writhed for a few moments before he slowly stood laughing like a lunatic with the blood dripping from his nose.

 “You’re insane. You tried to kill my children because I ended things and found better?”

 “There is no better than me!”

 He spread his arms out, not caring where the blood that spewed from him went. “Uriah, you know you love me. You loved the feel of a real man between your legs. Just tell him.”

 Glancing at you, he realized you were crying now.

 “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe you’d hurt me this way.”

 He wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you in some way. Looking back at Christiano, he was in time to see him charging toward him. He quickly moved you out of the way and threw a punch that connected with Christiano’s jaw. Instead of going down, Christiano lunged at him, gripping him around his waist, trying to bring him down to the ground. He almost laughed. Sending his knee into his gut, he spun and put Christiano in a chokehold keeping him there.

 It was then a group of police officers came running toward them.

 “Look at that. You lost, not just once, but twice and now—a third.”

 He wanted to snap his neck, and thinking of everything he’d put them through, he almost did. Two officers ran up to him, both of them taking Christiano by his arms.

 “We’ve got it from here.”

 Reluctantly he let Christiano go and allowed the law to take the wheel. Going to you, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears.

 “I’m here.”

 You hugged him, and he just held you. There was no need for words.

  -That Night-

“I love you.”

 Those words were like music to his ears. There was a time he didn’t think he’d ever hear them again. Gently pulling your head back, he peered into your eyes while caressing your cheek. He loved seeing you like this with your hair free, hovered over him, with the moon as your backdrop.

 “I love you more,” he whispered.

 “Forever and a day?”

 He smiled, remembering your promises, and pressed his forehead to yours. “Forever and a day, dragonfly.”

 You kissed him softly, taking the time to tease his lips, nibbling his bottom one before burying your face in the crook of his neck as you rocked against him, sending him higher and higher until he felt as if his soul left his body.

 “Uriah!”

 It felt like he was no longer in his body but instead hovering overhead like a fly watching your bodies entangled together. There was no other sight he loved as much. You rolled off of him and found your place beside him, resting your head on his chest, right over his heart. You both sighed.

 “After this is done, let’s go back to Massachusetts full time,” you quietly said after a few minutes.

 “What?” he turned to look at you, needing to see if you meant it.

 “Do you mean that?”

 “Yeah. I never wanted to raise kids in LA, and you know I love Massachusetts. Let’s have these babies in the house you built for us,” you added.

 He couldn’t believe his ears. It wasn’t that you’d ever expressed not wanting to live in Massachusetts full time; it was that he knew how much of your career was still in LA. With him, he was spending less and less time here, but you, it seemed it was more and more.

 “How is that going to work with your career?”

 You rolled slightly onto your side, then trailed your hand across his chest down his stomach to rest nonchalantly atop his manhood. Groaning, he wrapped one of his arms under his head.

 “I’m taking a few years off.”

 The shock had his junk jumping in your hand, making a wide smile spread across your face. “Wow, talk about talent,” you teased.

 He rolled you onto your back and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your spread thighs.

 “Don’t play with me, Mrs. Evans.”

 You smiled widely as you fondled him with one hand. Not being strong enough to have this conversation while you did that, he grabbed your hand and pressed it over your head, gripping you at your wrist.

 “No fair,” you pouted.

 “Say that again.”

 You smiled, clearly loving that fact he was hanging by a flimsy piece of thread.

 “I said I’m taking a few years off.”

 He couldn’t stop his grin. “Really?”

 “Yeah. What do you think? Would you want that?”

 “You’re kidding. Of course, yes! It would be just the two of us day in, day out. No movie sets, no studio time, no photoshoots.”

 “Eh-em, excuse you. You mean just the five of us,” you corrected.

 It didn’t take him long to get it. You, him, babies, and Dodger.

 “I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “I love you, Mr. Evans.”

 You kissed him once, then twice before your hands roamed down his back to grip his ass, making him moan and chuckle at the same time. He’d missed this and you.

 “Hang on, baby; I gotta--,” he began.

 “Ah, that after nut pee calls, huh. Fine. Go ahead. I'll just be here, pregnant and horny.”

 He snorted and rolled off of you before hurrying to the bathroom.

 “Oh, I’m coming back, cause—that sounds like a very pressing situation that needs my undivided attention.”

 You giggled as he dipped into the bathroom. He hurried to the toilet and tried his best to aim properly but an erection and peeing straight made for a tricky situation. Once he’d gotten the hang of it and the common sense to curve his body a little, he was good and groaned long and loud as he relieved himself. The silence in the bathroom gave him the time to fully react to the prospect of moving back to Massachusetts full time for the next few years. He couldn’t wait. Life was about to change for the better.

 Once finished, he flushed and washed his hands before stepping back into the room. He expected you to be lying on the bed, waiting for him, but the bed was empty. Thinking you might have found your way to the kitchen for a snack, he pulled his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on before he walked out of the bedroom. He’d recently discovered that after sex, you craved something from the fridge. He walked down the hall leading to the staircase, but before he got there, a chill ran down his spine. It was this chill and almost like a psychic feeling that had him stop.

 When he turned, there you stood in your pale pink kimono robe with Christiano behind you. His hand was around your neck, clasping it.

“What the--.” He made a move toward them, but Christiano pulled out a gun and pointed it to your stomach.

 “I wouldn’t,” he began before he cocked the weapon. “Or I will pull this trigger, and there goes Evan Jr.”

 Terror as he’d never felt before gripped his heart. “You wouldn’t risk her life.”

 Christiano shoved the barrel of the gun more forcefully into your stomach, making you whimper loudly.

 “Wouldn’t I? what’s the point of keeping her safe now? For her to end up with you? I think the fuck not!” Again he shoved the gun into you.

 “Okay, hey, hey, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”

 “Please?” Christiano snorted and pulled you more firmly against him. “Are you begging me finally? You’ve always been underneath me. I couldn’t understand why she would choose you over me. I’m better in every category.”

 He nodded, with his hands raised.

 “You’re right. You’re the better man, the better choice,” he agreed, deciding to play along and say whatever he wanted if it meant Uriah had a chance of getting away from him. He quickly tried to formulate a plan while he used his words to buy himself as much time as possible.

 “I know! So why him, Uriah!?”

 You remained quiet, tears streaming down your cheeks.

 “Answer me! You better answer me with the truth, or I swear I’ll pull this trigger.”

 “Answer hi, Dragonfly. It’s okay. Forever and a day.”

 You scrunched your face and watched fresh heartbreak wash over you. “I—I fell in love with him, Tino. My soul recognized his as my home. It could only ever be him,” you replied. He signaled to you using his eyes and slight movements of his head, and he hoped you understood them.

 He watched Christiano squeeze your neck tighter and press the gun more persistently into you, and he said a silent prayer.

 “Fine,” Christiano began. He saw the moment when it all changed for him, and his threats no longer were empty words. “If I can’t have you. No one can.”

 “Now, Riah!”

 You threw your head back, colliding yours with his in a vicious headbutt that sent Christiano staggering backward a few steps and you stumbling before falling to the floor. In the chaos, Christiano dropped the gun allowing him to leap forward for the gun. In seconds Christiano was on him, fighting him for it. He tried to pull it from his clutches while turning it away from him or Uriah, but there was no fury like a man who’d lost everything.

 Christiano managed to wrangle the gun from his grasp and pointed it to Uriah. In the blink of an eye, he knew what had to be done—the only thing he could do. Locking eyes with you, he said the only thing that mattered.

 “I love you.”

 He then dove for Christiano tracking him into the banister railing with enough force that broke it, sending both of them over the edge and down two and a half stories to the hard marble floor beneath. He could hear your piercing scream right before they collided with the floor, but once they made impact, the gun went off, and again Uriah screamed.

 “Chris!”

~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

It all had happened in such a way that it was in slow motion but sped up. You couldn’t register anything until it was all said and done. You scurried to the banister and looked down. Neither of them moved, and your heart stopped. Gasping, you tried to remind your brain to send the signal for you to breathe. After a few seconds, you coughed while trying to hurry down the stairs. The tears in your eyes made it difficult to see what was in front of you, so you stumbled down the stairs. If it weren’t for your gripping the railing as you descended, you were sure you would have tumbled.

 Once down to them, you dropped to your knees beside them and pulled at Chris’s body. He wasn’t moving.

 “Oh god, Chris!”

 He didn’t respond, and his body felt like dead weight. Your tears flowed more freely as you managed to roll him off. Once you had, you were able to see that it was Christiano who was shot and not Chris. Relief filled you, and you shook him more forcefully.

 “Chris! Wake up, please. Please don’t leave me. Chris!”

 Suddenly he erupted into a fit of choughs before they died down.

 “Why are you always shouting at me, woman!?”

 You gasped again. “Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me.”

 “I’m okay. I think,” he informed while trying to sit up. He then began examining you.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yes.”

 He then gripped his head as he groaned out, but it wasn’t long before he was moving toward you to pull you into his arms, not caring that he was covered in blood.

 “Is he—is he dead?”

 Chris leaned back to check Christiano’s pulse, then lowered his head. “Very dead.”

 You clasped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. He—he tried--.”

 Chris pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. “Come here. It’s okay.”

 Somehow he managed to slide both of you from the body on the floor toward the wall. He held you tightly, then spoke.

 “I don’t think I’ll call you crazy again after this.”

 It was probably inappropriate, but you snorted then laughed, a laugh he joined in on. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended.  

 “They’re crazy.”

 “Bat shit,” Chris replied.

 Any humor to be found in the situation was gone, and it turned into you crying in his shoulder, going through all the emotions from the entire night. There had been so much pain, so much destruction. You’d come close to losing everything more than once, and the culprit was lying dead on the floor before you. It was overwhelming, but somehow, you felt steeled to the fact that you’d just watched someone die.

 You glanced over to Chris at the same moment he looked at you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks then spoke.

 “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He then lowered his lips to your forehead and held you close.

 Ten minutes later, the sirens of the police, ambulance, and fire trucks could be heard as they surrounded your property. The officers instantly took yours and Chris’s statements and any evidence lying around to prove what the two of you were professing, including the security footage. The EMS workers quickly covered Christiano’s body with a sheet as they rolled him into a body bag then pushed the gurney out of the house. You barely registered anything. Chris did most of the talking, not leaving one thing out. When they asked you about the events of the night, you stuttered and quickly became frazzled as everything finally caught up to you. That was when the detective Chris hired suggested meeting at the police station to continue, which would allow him to reveal his findings in his investigation.

After a quick change, you were sitting in the passenger side of Chris’s car as he drove you to the precinct. Your mind raced a mile a minute, but your lips remained zipped. The feel of Chris’s hand on your thigh was your tangible evidence that this was reality and not some soap opera plot. When you arrived at the precinct, the detective in charge of the case questioned you from the very beginning to the night's events. You did your best to remain calm and emotionless and were surprised that you didn’t feel the shame you’d felt about the entire situation prior to this night.

When the detective revealed new information divulged to him, from the detective Chris hired, about Christiano and what he’d truly been up to and how deep his plans really went, you could hardly stomach it. He’d secured another property in Russia and planned to bring you there. The way the information was revealed, it seemed like he planned on keeping you captive there. Hearing that, you almost passed out. Chris, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill Christiano again.

 The questioning took a full hour, and at the end of it, you were exhausted and ready to put this entire thing behind you after dealing with Ana. With Chris’s arm around your waist, you walked out of the detective’s office onto the precinct's open floor. A loud scream brought your attention to several officers pulling Ana through with her hands cuffed behind her back.

 “I demand you let me go. Do you know who I am!? I swear to god, I will have your badge, and you’ll never be a fucking cop again!”

 “Wow, the mouth on her,” one of the officers teased.

 “To think we found her hot in that Bond movie,” another piped up.

 “Fuck you!”

 You and Chris approached, curious as to what was going on. You hadn’t expected to see her until tomorrow when you and Chris executed the second part of your plan of confronting her while recording it to release it to the world, showing everyone who and what she really was. It would have been a one-two hit that she wouldn’t recover from. Her career would have been over.

 “It’s been a big night,” the detective who’d just interviewed you said, standing beside you.

 “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why’s she here?”

 “Your detective gave us plenty of information. By the way, impressive man, you should think about keeping him on your payroll. Anyway, we followed his leads, and it led right to her and her assistant, specifically her assistant’s car. This one took her assistant’s car and was the one behind the wheel when she ran into you. The traffic cams show it was an intentional hit.”

 You saw red.

 “What!”

 “She tried to kill you,” Abel, the private detective, added, coming up beside Chris.

 “What’s more, there were messages between her and Christiano White.”

 Both yours and Chris’s heads spun to him to the police detective this time to find him nodding with a look on his face that said even he hadn’t encountered anything this bizarre before.

 “They concocted this whole scheme together, beginning with the pictures of her in that eat shit sweater. This was set up with them. there is even evidence Christiano was poisoning you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “Jesus,” Chris hissed.

 You remained utterly silent and still letting Abel’s words fully process. It was a lot of information, but it was also vindication that you were in no shape or form crazy.

 “Wh—what does all this mean?”

 “It means she’s going to face a judge on a slew of charges that are quite serious. I can assure you both; there is no easy way of her getting out of any of this. No amount of money or connections will fix it. Her career is over,” the detective finished.

 You both were speechless, and looking at Chris, he was too. You and Chris were led to somewhere you could sit for a few minutes to receive the paperwork for the night’s incident and the new information. While sitting, you used the time to catch your breath and wrap your head around everything. Neither of you could believe all you’d gone through. The more you thought about it, the more your confusion increased. One burning questioned remained. Why?

 About ten minutes later, you and Chris were led toward the exit, but you caught sight of Ana to your right. You would have walked on, but the way she glared at you had you changing your mind in seconds. You let go of Chris’s hand and walked over to her.

 “I have to know. Why? What was the point!?”

 Ana bolted to her feet as if she planned to do something, but the officer behind her grabbed her arm, holding her to ensure she didn’t try anything. You weren’t worried.

“You don’t deserve anything you have. The fame, the popularity, and opportunities you don’t deserve any of it, especially Chris. He was supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine!”

 You could hear the poison in her voice and see the sheer hatred for you shining brightly in her eyes. She truly meant this though she didn’t know one thing about you.

 “You’re crazy as fuck. I hope it was worth it.” You reached back for Chris’s hand, knowing he was behind you. Lacing your fingers with his, you showed her all that her efforts had produced, then turned and began walking away.

 “You low-grade black bitch!

In your head, you heard blaring sirens. The sound became so loud in a matter of seconds it had somewhat of a mind-altering effect. Chris released your hand as if he knew what was going to happen. You turned back to her and saw red.

 “Oh I’ll show you how low grade this black bitch is!”

 You ran to her, then tackled her to the floor. Once on top of her, you swung punch after punch, each slamming into her face. You didn’t care where they landed, didn’t care how hard you were hitting her either. There was a lesson she needed to learn, and the only way to learn it was getting her ass beat the right way—the black way. You felt hands trying to pull you off of her, but you were not having it. You held on to her hair, so when they tried to move you, they really helped you bald the bitch.

 “See, I never learned to share when I was young! I’m—an—only—child!” With each enunciated word, you emphasized it with a punch. Ana’s screams were loud, but they weren’t louder than those alarms still sounding off in your head. Though she tried to fight back, it was futile, though.

 “Learn this bitch! Don’t,” you dropped a punch to her nose. “Touch,” you slapped her with your open hand. ���What,” you slapped her again, this time with the back of your hand. “is mine!”

 From then, no one else tried to pull you off of her. You suspected it was Chris warning them. You managed to get off a few more punches when you were finally pulled off.

 “Let me go!”

 “Okay, calm down, Adonis Creed, that’s enough,” Chris shouted, trying to break through to you. You still struggled trying to get back to her, but Chris refused to let you go until you calmed down. You looked at Ana on the floor. She was barely moving, and her face was a bloody mess with several patches of her dark hair sprinkled around her. Satisfaction filled you. Raising your hand, you assured Chris you were good. Slowly he let you go, and you stooped down to her.

 “Look at me.”

 You waited for her writhing to stop and for her bloody, swollen eyes to land on you.

 “Remember my name for the rest of your pathetic life. Remember that I’m that bitch!”

 You grabbed her hair and held her head. “Try this shit again; you gonna lose your life.”

 With that, you punched her one more time, knocking her clear out. Everyone around the precinct shouted out a collective “ooh.” You stood and walked away as they all cleared your path, most likely thinking you were crazy. Chris came beside you, took your hand, and walked back to the car with you. Once inside, you both sat there, silently processing everything. Five minutes passed in silence until you spoke.

 “She did all this over dick, Chris. Dick,” you said in disbelief as you shook your head.

 “I mean—my dick is A1.”

 Your head spun to him. “Christopher!”

 He laughed out loud while holding his hands up in defeat.

 “Hey, don’t beat my ass too, I don’t want none,” Chris joked, making you laugh a little.

 “Wow, remind me not to piss you off again. I don’t want any of what she got.”

 You fake lunged at him with your still bloodied fists. “Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

 Both of you erupted with laughter before you embraced, relishing in the feeling of togetherness and your love. It was finally over; you thought as Chris pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

 “Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Chris suggested. You snorted and nodded.

 “Let’s go home.”

 Knowing where you meant, Chris smiled and kissed you once, then twice.

 “Let’s,” he whispered.

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

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[kanerallels]

happy one-eleven!! four words: kanera, lost a bet.

Oh, heck yes!! Here it is, I hope you like it!!!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: 3,269

Tags/Warning: rated G (for a grotesque amount of Kanera jk there's no such thing)

This was why Hera didn’t typically get involved in bets. They rarely ended well, and she’d seen some bets her friends made go in some very crazy directions.

But this one had seemed relatively safe-- her friend, Ahsoka, had been racing against her brother Anakin to see who could drink the most shots of chocolate milk in sixty seconds. Hera had bet on Ahsoka, because she usually won this kind of thing.

However, halfway through, Anakin had started stealing the shot glasses Ahsoka had been about to drink out of, which resulted in Ahsoka throwing other shot glasses at Anakin, which resulted in him drenched in chocolate milk but victorious all the same.

And now Hera owed Omega, her best friend and roommate, a dare of some kind, and she was getting an increasingly bad feeling about what it would be.

“So what does this have to do with our bet?” she asked as Omega led her towards a nearby building. Even from a distance, Hera could tell it was some kind of bar. That, combined with the fact that Omega had convinced her to get dressed up in a dark blue dress (which she almost never wore). She had refused to wear high heels, however, or let down her hair, which she almost always wore woven into two braids. That was a bridge too far for her.

“You’ll see,” Omega said, her voice way too innocent for comfort. Hera flashed an inquisitive look at their other three companions, Ahsoka, and Merrin. Ahsoka gave a shrug.

“Search me. I’m just here to see the fruits of my loss.”

Hera let out a sigh as she followed Omega and the others into the bar. This is definitely not going to end well.

The bar was dimly lit, but fairly generic-looking, with tables scattered across the room and the bar to Hera’s right. The room was about half full, and there were four people working the bar.

One was an older man who was almost bald, with a neatly trimmed white beard, who was taking a customer’s order. A young woman a little older than Hera, with short dark hair, heavy eyeliner, and tan skin was wiping down the bar, ignoring the two men bickering at the end of the bar.

Hera’s gaze paused on the two men for a moment. One had short dark hair, combed neatly, and a seriously annoyed expression. The other man, on the other hand, had longer brown hair, his skin a light brown, and wore an easy smirk.

His eyes flicked up from his work and locked on her, and Hera realized she’d been staring, Feeling a flush working it’s way across her cheeks, she looked away as the older man finished with his order and caught sight of them. “Ah, Omega!” he said, his smile kind. “A pleasure to see you as always. How are your brothers?”

“Still unaware of the fact I came here on a date, thanks to you,” Omega said, giving him a grin. “By the way, these are my friends-- Ahsoka and Hera.”

“Lovely to meet you, madams,” Okadiah said, giving them a bow. “We’ll have someone to serve you in a moment-- is there anything any of us can get you for the time being?”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Hera said.

Okadiah nodded just as there was a crash on the far end of the bar, where the two men had been. Hera looked to see the short haired man doubled over with laughter as the one she’d caught herself staring at got to his feet, rubbing his head and directing a glare at his friend.

“You alright, Kanan?” Okadiah asked, a look of mild interest on his face.

Waving a hand, the man said, “Fine-- it’s not that funny, Dark!”

Dark didn’t seem to agree, judging by how hard he was laughing, but Omega was already looping her arm around Hera’s and leading her and the others over to a table before Hera could see what happened next.

They settled at a table, and the female bartender, who turned out to be named Trilla, came over and took their orders. No sooner had she returned to the bar than Omega turned to Hera.

“Good news-- I know what I’m daring you to do.”

“Reassuring,” Hera said, letting out a sigh. “Okay, let’s get it over with. What do you want me to do?”

“You know that bartender you were staring at? The one with the ponytail?”

“Wha-- I wasn’t staring at anyone.”

Merrin shook her head. “No, Omega’s right. You were staring.”

“Unhelpful,” Hera muttered, her face heating up again.

“Regardless,” Omega said, waving a hand airily. “I’m daring you to get his number.”

Hera’s jaw dropped. “WHAT?”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “Oh, this is SO worth losing to Skyguy for. You want Hera to ask out the bartender she thinks is hot?”

“I don’t!”

“You do,” Omega said.

Merrin let out a thoughtful noise. “He’s okay. I like Cal better.”

“Cal is literally your boyfriend, it would be weird if you didn’t,” Ahsoka pointed out. “Hera, you absolutely HAVE to do this. I’ve literally never seen you show interest in a guy before, and I’ve known you for three years now.”

“I agree,” Merrin said, nodding.

Hera let out a groan. “I-- you’re not letting me get out of this, are you?”

“Sorry,” Omega said, patting her on the arm. “But you owe me. These are just the cards you’ve been dealt.”

Sighing, Hera muttered, “You sound like one of your brothers.”

“Not a bad thing.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

Clearing her throat, Ahsoka said, “Not to be the Skyguy, but stop stalling and get moving.”

“Fine.” Reluctantly, Hera got to her feet and headed over to the bar, determinedly trying not to think about the three other women watching her, or what she was about to do.

When she arrived at the bar, she realized that the other bartenders were gone, leaving only the guy with the ponytail-- Kanan?-- there. I’m not sure if this is better or worse. “Hi,” she said.

His gaze flicked to her, and his eyes widened a little at the sight of her. For a moment, he looked incapable of speech, and Hera frowned. “You okay?”

A very slight smile tugged at the corner of the man’s mouth. “Words fail me.”

This was… definitely not what Hera had been expecting. Before she could respond, the man said, “I’m Kanan.”

“I heard. Hera.” Hera offered her hand, and Kanan clasped it. His grip was firm, and something about the feeling of his skin against hers… Hera tried very hard not to turn red again.

“Nice to meet you, Hera,” he said with a smile. Releasing her hand, he leaned against the bar, propping his elbows on the surface as he faced her. “So. Be honest-- your friends dared you to come over here, did they?”

“What-- how--?” Hera stared at him, stunned.

Kanan shrugged lightly. “I have mad skills. Plus, I spotted Omega pointing over at us, and there were a lot of covert looks in our direction. Also, I recall her saying last time she was here that she had a friend she wanted to, uh, introduce me to.”

“You’re kidding,” Hera said, and Kanan shook his head. “Ugh, that is so typical-- how long has she been planning this?”

“Aren’t all of her brothers either currently or previously military?” Kanan pointed out. “Cause that’s definitely a yes.”

Letting out a long sigh, Hera muttered, “I can’t believe this.” Glancing at Kanan, she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to involve you in all this.”

“I’ve been involved in way worse,” Kanan said breezily. “Give me the details. I’m invested at this point.”

Grimacing, Hera said, “Long story short, I lost a bet with Omega, and she gets to dare me to do whatever she wants. And in this case, that’s… getting your number.”

“High stakes,” Kanan said with a totally straight face, and Hera rolled her eyes at him.

“Don’t mock me, alright? I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”

“It makes sense,” Kanan said, holding up his hands. “I mean, I doubt you usually need to, all things considered.”

Hera’s eyebrows shot up. “What exactly does that mean?”

She saw Kanan pause and look briefly embarrassed. “Oh. Well, I mean, you’re pretty… wow. I assume you have to fight off guys with a stick.”

A wave of heat swept over Hera, and she glanced down, feeling an absurd smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Pretty wow, huh?”

“Now who’s mocking?” Kanan grumbled, a grin crossing his face nonetheless. “I’m usually a lot smoother than this, you know.”

Rolling her eyes, Hera said, “Oh, I’m sure. But-- no, actually. I don’t date a lot. From what I’ve heard, my strong personality and ability to actually do things for myself tends to scare some men off.”

“Only idiots,” Kanan said, shooting her a grin that shouldn’t have made Hera’s heart skip a beat. But here they were, and she couldn’t help but notice how little space was between them. He was close enough that she could clearly see the bright teal of his eyes as they caught hers for a long moment.

“I’ve got an idea,” he told her, and moved back and away from her. Hera felt a moment of unreasonable disappointment, and hastily brushed it away. Don’t be stupid, Hera. Turning her attention back to Kanan, she saw him grab a pen and a paper coaster and scribble something on the back of it. “Here’s my number-- but I propose a bet.”

“I’ve already been tricked into one bet,” Hera pointed out, folding her arms. “Why on earth would I agree to this one?”

“Because I’ll give you my number either way,” Kanan said, sliding her the coaster. “Rules are simple. We stay here and talk for as long as possible. Whoever’s friends get curious and come to nose into our business first, wins. If you win, you obviously get my number, and I’ll pay for your whole group’s drinks and meals.”

“And if you win?” Hera asked, intrigued despite herself.

“I get to take you out to dinner,” Kanan said, a satisfied grin stretching across his face. “Somewhere a lot nicer than here, I promise you. Deal?”

Hera hesitated. Last time she'd gotten involved in a bet, it had gone badly. Getting involved in another one seemed really stupid.

But as her father liked to say, no risk, no reward. Besides, the worst that could happen would be her ending up on a date with Kanan. And would that be the worst thing in the world?

Brushing off the thought, Hera gave Kanan a nod. “Deal.”

“Excellent,” Kanan said. “Okay, in order to do this-- you might have to tell me about yourself.”

“Very funny,” Hera said, lifting an eyebrow at her. “But you've got a point. Where do you want to start?”

Kanan frowned, knitting his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Let's see. Favorite color?”

“I like blue,,” Hera said.

Nodding, Kanan said, “I can see why. It’s a good color for you.”

“Are you going to spend this whole time flirting?” Hera asked, narrowing her arms at him.

“Maybe,” Kanan said, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips-- and why was Hera looking at his lips?

Hastily redirecting her attention, she said, “How about you?”

“Green. Which reminds me, I like your hair.” He gestured to her braids, his fingers brushing one of them. “What made you decide to dye them?”

Flicking one of her deep green braids over her shoulder, Hera said, “It’s… for my mom. I lost her when I was thirteen, and she actually did something very similar with her hair. After a while, it just kind of stuck. My brother did the same thing-- it’s kind of our thing at this point.”

“I’m sorry about your mom.” Kanan’s deep voice was unusually serious, and Hera glanced up to meet his eyes again. They held a sort of raw conviction, a sadness that almost made Hera think he knew what she was feeling. He gently touched her hand, but pulled back again a few seconds later, giving her space.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice irritatingly shaky. Clearing her throat, she said, “Um, let’s see. What else?”

“I’ve got a good one-- what���s your dream job?” Kanan asked.

“Well, I’m going to school to be a mechanic,” Hera replied. “But ever since I was a little girl, I’ve liked the idea of being a pilot.”

“Like for a commercial airline or something?”

Shaking her head adamantely, Hera said, “Definitely not. No, just… being able to fly. It appeals to me, the idea of being up there. Anyway, I’m working on getting my pilot’s license. If I’ll be able to do anything with it is another story entirely.”

“I get the feeling you’ll figure something out,” Kanan said with stunning certainty. “You’ve got this general air of confidence, like you can handle anything. I admire it.”

“Hmm. I appreciate the support. Well, how about you? Dream job?”

“I’ve never really had one,” Kanan said, grimacing. “Let’s just say that my future hasn’t ever been something that’s been set in stone. I don’t really have your confidence, shall we say.”

“I haven’t always been confident,” Hera said, making a face. “I guess you’ve just got to find what you’re passionate about and figure out how to make a living off of it.”

“I don’t know how well that’ll go in my case,” Kanan said wryly. “But it’s not a bad idea. Next question?”

Accepting the change in subject, Hera said, “Well, I don’t even know your last name. Shall we start there?”

“Easily fixed-- Jarrus,” Kanan said, his smile returning. “You?”

“Syndulla.”

Hera regretted answering the minute Kanan’s eyebrows shot up. “Syndulla? As in the prosecutor?”

Letting out a sigh, Hera said, “Yep. Consider that another nail in my social life coffin.”

“Well, you do have a couple friends over there,” Kanan pointed out.

“Yeah, well, most people I meet are pretty convinced that I’m as rich and stuck up as they’re convinced my dad is. Omega and I grew up together, and she’d introduced me to Merrin. Ahsoka is… technically in the police academy, so she wasn’t very intimidated by my dad.” Hera rubbed a hand over her forehead. “And my dating life is… frustrating. I’m a little particular as it is, though--” she stopped abruptly, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to dump all of this on you at all, it’s just--”

“It sounds to me like you need to talk about it,” Kanan said, his voice matter of fact. “And I’m happy to listen. I’ve been the object of many a drunken ramble-- and trust me, I’d rather listen to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Hera’s mouth. “Thanks. I think.”

“No problem. And for the record, the right people will stay friends with you regardless of who your family is,” Kanan told her. “I’ve been in a pretty similar situation, so I know what I’m talking about.”

Frowning, Hera said, “How so?”

Kanan hesitated, his expression clearly torn. “Uh. Do you know Mace Windu?”

“The deputy commissioner of the police department?” Hera said incredulously. “Yeah, my father has dinner with him and his daughter sometimes-- wait.” She stopped and squinted at Kanan. “Are you--?”

“His grandson,” Kanan said, offering what could be either a smile or a grimace. “Surprise. I don’t really talk about it a lot, but--” he shrugged. “We’ve all got family that’s not super easy to deal with.”

“Hmm.” Hera nodded thoughtfully. “Who would have thought our families would actually be so… entwined, I guess?”

A real smile started on Kanan’s face. “One could even call it fate.”

“Very smooth,” Hera said, and he laughed.

“Oh, just let me have this one.”

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Hera told him.

Leaning forward, Kanan locked eyes with her, their faces inches apart. Hera felt her breath catch as he said quietly, “Challenge accepted.”

Before Hera could respond, she heard a voice from behind them. “Hey, Hera?”

Kanan pulled back smoothly as Hera turned to see Ahsoka, whose expression was calm and blank, with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Are you busy? I can come back later--”

“You’re fine,” Kanan cut in lightly. “Although, Miss Syndulla, I believe this belongs to you.”

Hera glanced back at him to see him holding out the coaster with his number scribbled on it-- and she remembered the bet. Right. And I won. So why didn’t she feel excited?

“I’ll see you back at the table, Hera,” Ahsoka said quietly, turning and heading back to where their friends were waiting.

Taking the coaster from Kanan, Hera said, “Thank you. For-- all of this, really.”

“Not a problem,” Kanan said, but Hera could read the slight disappointment in his eyes. And she was startled to realize she felt the same way. It wasn’t every day she met a guy she might be interested in, let alone one who wasn’t intimidated by her and her father. “Consider your tab covered.”

“Actually,” Hera said as he started to move away, “I’ve changed my mind.”

Surprise flashed across Kanan’s face. “Uh, what?”

“For my end of the bet. I’m changing the deal.”

“Okay,” Kanan said, folding his arms as a slow smile started to grow across his face. “What exactly did you have in mind? Obviously I won’t accept just anything, since you’re changing the deal after the bet is over.”

“Coffee,” Hera said calmly. “Tomorrow morning, you and me. I’m buying. There’s a place two blocks south of here that sells the best bear claws. It’s called, unfortunately, Bake It Til You Make It.”

“That’s… kind of the best name I’ve ever heard,” Kanan said.

“The guy who owns it thinks he’s hilarious. But he’s a good baker.” Holding Kanan’s gaze, Hera lifted an eyebrow. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” Kanan said, giving her a crooked grin. “I’d love to.”

“Good.” Hera sent him a smile that she knew was different from her usual one. But there was something about this guy that was different. Maybe it was his easy humor or the seriousness and respect that was just underneath, or maybe even the fact that he was seriously good looking.

It could also be the way he was looking at her right now-- soft and kind, with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. It took Hera a moment to regain her ability to speak. “What?”

“Why’d you change your mind about the bet?”

Hera pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I guess I don’t want to miss out on what could turn out to be something… good. If you know what I mean.”

“I definitely do,” Kanan said, his deep voice holding something that sent a shiver up Hera’s spine. “See you at eight-thirty, in that case?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Hera said. Shooting him a grin, she added, “And don’t be late.”

“Well, you have my number if I am.”

“Very true,” Hera agreed. She held his gaze for another second, feeling her heart speed up as he looked back. Then she got to her feet and headed over to the table where her friends were waiting, grinning like a pack of hyenas.

But. She had a really good feeling about tomorrow all of a sudden. And a fluttery feeling in her stomach that hadn’t been there in a long time. Maybe it was a good thing I lost that bet after all, Hera mused.

[aeonghaseyo]

Your Trace, My Treasure

Summary: Marc and Nathaniel write and draw, respectively, on each others' notebooks because it's DEFINITELY a couple thing to do.

Word Count: 2105 AO3 link

Relationship/s: Nathaniel Kurtzberg/Marc Anciel Category: M/M Characters: Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel, Alix Kubdel (mentioned), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (mentioned), Juleka Couffaine (mentioned), Rose Lavillant (mentioned), Alya Cesaire (mentioned) Language used: English Author's Note: The creators of MLB really need to give the side characters screen time. The love square isn't the only romantic set of ships in the show and there are much more cute ships to write about. And so in my first time of writing a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, it's about a ship that's entirely not part of the love square. This is my final workshop output from a creative writing class I enrolled in during the summer to get units in advance. Special thanks to my professor and two of my classmates for their feedback; I couldn't have made this work even more wonderful without their help. For the non-love-square ship and this being a successful workshop output thus far, I think I'm gonna give myself a pat on the back and more fanfic ideas to write. :)

Compared to the courtyard at Françoise Dupont High School where the lively chattering of students can be heard and the scrambling of footsteps were a staple, the art room was its own entire world of silence.

It was supposed to be a calming silence in that same art room where Marc and Nathaniel were to work on art-related endeavors of their own, but the former found this unwelcoming and rather deafening. It weighed down on his being that the atmosphere was unbearably awkward, much like he was most of the time even before he met Nathaniel and became his partner in creating comic books about Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their akumatized alter-egos who turned good and served as part of the superhero duo’s akuma-fighting team. Despite a remarkable development from being acquaintances, to newfound partners, and now to a bloomed romantic couple, Marc Anciel, as awkward as ever and still testing the waters on this newfound relationship, couldn’t shake this nagging feeling of inadequacy as someone’s significant other.

It just goes to show him that even though his romantic feelings for Nathaniel had been reciprocated at Day 0, it does not remove the remaining unease that Marc currently feels at Day 1. It was his first time in a relationship, and it was with the boy whose drawings he admired so much from the school paper. Simply put, it was too good to be true.

Unfortunately, the awkwardness Marc felt wasn’t masked enough, and Nathaniel immediately noticed from his place by the table beside his raven-haired beau. How could he not? It was very obvious, from the way Marc’s hand shakily distorted his usually refined, elegant script while writing the next chapter of their comic to the way his expression was contorted as if he was constipated. Nathaniel thought to himself that it was still an adorable sight, but clearly, something was up, and it wouldn’t do well to just ignore whatever troubled his beloved partner. Attempting to break the ice, the redhead cleared his throat, then spoke to call Marc’s attention.

“Marc.”

The novelist jolted in surprise at the utterance of his name. “Y-yes, Nathaniel?”

Leaning in for a better view of the page Marc was writing on, Nathaniel replied, “Your handwriting’s different.”

“W-wait, really?” blurted out Marc, quickly covering the page with his gloved hand. “I d-didn’t know you were p-particular with handwriting.”

Nathaniel placed a gentle, caring hand on his boyfriend’s with a smile aimed directly at him as he clarified himself, “It’s not that, Marc. I’ve seen it and it’s great. Right now, it just looks… wobbly. You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

Even if Nathaniel was a recluse in his own class, he could very well read into the emotions of people, but he doesn’t show it that often. As endearing as it was as a show of concern towards shy Marc, it was also overwhelming for the raven-haired novelist to have been the subject of such deep perception, even from the boy his heart palpitates for.

It was then that Marc’s fight or flight response reminded him in a split-second that he needed some sort of diversion for Nathaniel not to remind him of his own awkwardness.

“Isn’t it weird that our art teacher didn’t come here?” Marc rapidly questioned as he struggled not to look at the red-haired boy beside him. Despite this attempt to keep Nathaniel’s focus off of his disposition, glancing towards the door and not at Nathaniel did not help stop the blood from rushing to the novelist’s fair cheeks. His partner might be tired of this, of him, already, but that light chuckle of pure amusement coming from Nathaniel disproved that thought.

“Hey, hey, settle down Marc,” chided Nathaniel, “he might be running late. It’s okay for us to use the art room so long as it’s reserved around this time. Good thing that he reserved it at an earlier time than usual.”

With innocent green eyes, the raven-haired boy looked his boyfriend in the eye and asked, “H-he can do that?”

“Of course, he can. Let’s just wait for him, okay?” reassured Nathaniel, his left hand making its way on Marc’s right shoulder discreetly. “I’m sure my other classmates will arrive here shortly too.”

A shy smile emerged from Marc’s face as he replied, “Okay, Nath.”

Suddenly, a ringtone from the phone which was in Nathaniel’s pocket sounded audibly enough to catch both the boys’ attention. The redhead immediately fished out the device from his pocket and unlocked it, revealing three unread text messages from his close friend Alix.

Hey Nath! Something came up and I couldn’t swing by the art room. Love troubles again with Marinette. Juleka and Rose are also helping out with me so they can’t come.

I can’t believe that Marinette got invited personally by Adrien to his photoshoot but she can’t even give him her handmade gift or ask him out. Because she’s such a wuss, I got dragged here in the park by Rose because Mari needs all of her girl friends to push her towards Golden Boy Agreste YET AGAIN.

And apparently Alya alone couldn’t do it. Sorry! You’ll have Marc to keep you company anyway. Have fun! ;)

So much for those girls coming over to the art room. Nathaniel let out a sigh as he muttered, just enough for Marc to hear, “I stand corrected. The others aren’t coming.”

Catching on his partner’s crest-fallen demeanor and gazing at his face with sympathetic green orbs, Marc replied, “Guess it’s just the two of us for now.”

The next minutes were spent in silence again, with Marc continuing to finish a paragraph while Nathaniel sketched a bird’s eye view of the Eiffel tower as the background in one panel of the comic storyboard in his notebook. After several minutes elapsed, however, curiosity got the best of Marc, and so, with the tip of his pen lingering on the period of his last sentence, he kept on glancing at Nathaniel and the storyboarding he was working on. Besides the sheer focus that was evident in Nathaniel’s turquoise orbs, the shy novelist couldn’t help but notice the fine, steady strokes his beau’s hand were making with his fine-pointed mechanical pencil. So neat, so pristine. It’s amazing how he didn’t need an eraser to erase certain portions of his drawings over and over.

Marc had seen artist sketches himself of both people and objects, mostly done by his friend Marinette. As someone aspiring to become a fashion designer, she would be engrossed in sketching designs day by day, passion ignited by the sparks of inspiration she draws from around her. However, since Marinette’s sketches had obvious hints of disorder, as it normally is with crude artist sketches, it clearly contrasted with the otherwise structured sketches Nathaniel makes for his comic books. Marc, fully in awe, couldn’t help but take a break from his writing and stare at the red-haired illustrator’s creative process right next to him.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel, thanks to the strong, overbearing feeling of being watched, was getting overly conscious of his work. Keeping his composure to the best of his ability, he quickly turned to Marc and asked, “Do you need something Marc?”

Snapped out of his trance wide-eyed, Marc inwardly panicked. ‘Oh no, I must be staring at him too long! I hope I didn’t spook him too much.’

Scrambling for a sensible response, the novelist stuttered out, “I-i want to write something in your notebook.”

Setting down his pencil while his turquoise eyes were still on Marc, Nathaniel blinked inquisitively. “Oh, why would you want to do that?”

“B-because,” the shy writer reasoned, “I want to write something to remind you of me. T-that is, if y-you don’t mind.”

The red-haired teen averted his gaze from his partner as he remarked, “You know I don’t let anyone write on my notebook, Marc.”

This response triggered the disappointment that Marc had anticipated from the moment that they started continuing to develop the rest of the comic book they were working on together. It was even more daunting for the timid writer that their art teacher and the rest of Nathaniel’s classmates who were usually in the art room with them did not show up at that moment, or even at all. Marinette would tell Nathaniel that it’s a great idea for his newfound love to leave special traces on his personal notebook while Rose, somehow finding this romantic, would gush at this gesture with Juleka mumbling to herself in response. But what would have been the cherry on top for Marc at the moment is that if Alix was there to egg on Nathaniel, pressuring him to give in and let his boyfriend write something in his notebook. At least the comic relief from Alix’s teasing would help alleviate the collective awkwardness the couple felt at that moment. God, if only it wasn’t just the two of them in the art room at that moment.

But alas, he was alone, helpless and daunted, and he was facing the dragon which was Nathaniel, or whatever Nathaniel thought of him at that moment.

However, all of the fears and doubts that plagued Marc left him when Nathaniel continued with a small, endearing smile on his face, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

The novelist beamed at his boyfriend, green eyes sparkling with delight. “R-really?”

“In one condition.”

Marc took and held in a quick breath. “Anything, Nath.”

The illustrator picked up his pencil once again and uttered, with an outstretched hand right by Marc’s notebook, “Let me draw in your notebook.”

It was at that moment when Marc could feel his heart flutter, accompanied by the butterflies in his stomach as he opened his own notebook to the very last page and laid it out right by his beau’s workspace.

“It would be my pleasure.”

In a span of 2 minutes while Nathaniel was drawing on the last page of his boyfriend’s notebook, Marc, fidgeting and tapping his pen softly on his chin, racked his brain for a simple yet memorable piece to write on the first page of the illustrator’s notebook, which was left empty out of personal preference by its owner. Hoping to obtain bit by bit of inspiration, he glanced at Nathaniel, then at the empty page, then at Nathaniel, and so on and so forth. This went on, albeit unnoticed by the redhead, until mere seconds after, he scribbled away on the page once he had gotten attuned with his creative writing flow.

After both of them finished leaving their traces on each other’s notebook pages, Nathaniel and Marc gave each other back their notebooks and instantly opened them to where they each left their special mark. Struck with awe, the novelist softly traced the outline of the drawing and his emerald eyes were drawn to Nathaniel’s signature which he left underneath the recently drawn portrait. A tinge of pink formed on Marc’s cheeks as he admired every stroke that constituted this drawing of him done by none other than the boy he once looked up to, now loved, and who loved him back.

“No one’s written me a poem before,” Nathaniel uttered as he perused every line written by Marc on that now extra special page in his notebook, eyes taking in every word written in that distinct elegant script that served as an epitome of beauty that the redhead beheld. One particular line at the end of the writing, however, caught him by surprise: the words ‘Je t’aime’ accompanied by Marc’s signature in that same fancy handwriting the illustrator adored dearly.

Having regained his composure, Marc turned to Nathaniel and asked, “Do you like the poem? I-i thought of it on the spot so it might not exactly be to your liking, but-”

“I love it,” interrupted the red-haired teen breathlessly, wrapping an arm around his significant other and squeezing his shoulder. “Really Marc, you make the most wonderful written pieces.”

An expression as bright as day graced Marc’s features as he replied, albeit with a bit of shyness in his voice, “Y-you really think so?”

Nathaniel threw any single hint of hesitation in his being out the window as he placed a tender, loving kiss on Marc’s forehead. “I do. We’re meant to be partnered together, after all.”

And just like that, the uncomfortable awkwardness that haunted Marc was instantly warded off, and in a flash, he enveloped Nathaniel in a tight, warm, loving embrace and leaned into him in newfound solace. The silence in the art room has never been this comforting as the couple relished in this seemingly endless embrace together.

[fandomn00blr]

OC Questionnaire

@cleverblackcat tagged me into this one a few days ago, and I started filling it out for Delilah Howe (not an OC...an adopted NPC!) and I am still working on it for her. But then @funkypoacher tagged me, and gave me specific permission to do it for *my* versions of Carver or Stroud...lol...

So anyway, here’s Stroud, everyone’s Warden Dad(...dy...? jk jk...unless?)

THE BASICS

Character’s name: Jean-Marc Stroud

Role in story: He’s your dad now...unless you’re Loghain and then he’s your infuriating boyfriend/husband whom you are absolutely smitten with...also, Warden-Commander of the Eastern Wardens after Dragon Age Awakening

Physical description: I feel a bit guilty constantly objectifying this poor man and his mustache, but he is just...*chef’s kiss* (Loghain’s POV, but also mine):

Stroud’s quite fit for a man his age, an unmistakably sturdy V-shaped torso atop well-muscled legs, with broad shoulders and strong, defined arms. He’s never quite realized just how chiseled and square his jaw is, either. And as his eyes rove over his face, he tries not to stare too longingly at his lips, which he’s already been acquainted with, though it feels like it’s been ages since that cave-in, and he certainly wouldn’t mind getting re-acquainted. With any part of him, really.

(LOGHAIN! STOP BEING SO HORNY FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND, YOU GRUMPY OLD BASTARD!)

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type: IDK

INTERNAL LIFE

What is their greatest fear? Probably disappointing anyone who is depending on him for safety/protection/reassurance

Inner motivation: Is ‘just wants everyone to feel safe’ an inner motivation? No. Shoot. STROUD WHAT MOTIVATES YOU?! Oh, I know...the fact that he lost everyone and everything he cared about to the Game and instead of going on a fucking rampage, he internalized it and joined the Wardens so that their deaths wouldn’t have been a total waste. What’s that called?

Kryptonite: If one of his Warden ‘kids’ is hurting, it hurts him...doubly so if he can’t do anything about it.

What is their misbelief about the world? Ok, so this is a tough one. Dude has been through all of it, and still believes in the power of kindness and duty and compassion, but not in a naive way. He chooses it, right? So I wouldn’t call it a misbelief, but he genuinely believes everyone is capable of choosing good, or trying to do better, or whatever. Shut up. I’m not crying, I swear.

Lesson they need to learn: You can’t save ‘em all (he still has regrets about what happened with Anders and Justice).

What is the best thing in their life? His little Eastern Warden family...Vigil’s Keep comes to feel like home to him.

What is the worst thing in their life? The thought of ever having to deal with Orlesian politics again...which is why he’s so grumpy in Inquisition.

What do they most often look down on people for? He has very little patience for people who manipulate others for their own personal gain.

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive? Seeing his Wardens thrive/come into their own/embrace duty/grow/find love...I SAID I WASN’T CRYING!

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way? Stroud doesn’t need a lot of personal reassurance to know that people care about him and that he serves a purpose...but if someone goes out of their way to do something just for him, he absolutely falls apart. Loghain making an Orlesian-inspired dish for his birthday was the last thing I wrote of this variety, but I imagine that Loghain does a lot of stuff like that just to see Stroud’s cheerful stoicism obliterated...and also because he loves him.

Top three things they value most in life? Helping others/compassion, his found family, and his duty as a Warden (but not in, like, a stupid way...)

EXTERNAL LIFE

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with? He keeps a portrait of his family tucked away among his things...the only item he brought with him from his former life when Clarel recruited him to the Wardens.

Describe a typical outfit from top to bottom. Heavy silverite Warden armor while out on missions, over a dark blue quilted tunic with a silver embroidered griffon and leggings (?). All very official. Off-duty, he wears simple undyed cotton or wool tunics (they’re probably fitted well) and woolen breeches (also fitted...um...well...*fans self*). It’s hot. <- Loghain, again?! Yeesh...

What is their method of manipulation? He’s not big on manipulation (see above), but he knows how to get what he wants from Loghain by wiggling his mustache and just...staring at him...all twinkly-eyed. Maybe chuckling good-naturedly if he wants to bring out the big guns.

Describe their daily routine. (Whoops...I missed this one, I guess!) Wake up early. Breakfast and paperwork in his office. Meetings, etc later in the morning. Then lunch with Loghain somewhere outside, weather permitting. Meetings/more paperwork/drills and training in the afternoon. Dinner with everyone in the dining hall at the end of the day. Quiet evenings. Then bed!

Their go-to cure for a bad day? Feet up in front of a fire...some tea? Maybe with a bit of whiskey in it. And something sweet to munch on like cookies. Bonus if Loghain is there with his little shawl, reading or complaining to him, preferably both...

GOALS

How are they dissatisfied with their life? He still harbors a lot of anger and resentment toward the Game (I mean...), but he’s actually pretty satisfied with his life as a Warden.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment? This is the most selfless thing ever, but he would love to see Loghain and Anora reconciled.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality? He would never, but he totally could invite Anora to dinner at Vigil’s Keep or something and pretend it was Loghain’s idea...lol. OMG...AU where Stroud is the meddling spouse...!!!

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already? Not so much fear as it is just respect for personal boundaries or whatever...

How do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of? He hopes Loghain will eventually reach out to his daughter himself, or Anora will force her way back into her father’s life. During Inquisition, Loghain and Alistair (who is King and married to Anora in this world state) have a bit of a scuffle, then manage to get over their shit (sort of), so Stroud has some hope that they’ll all figure it out eventually. He just won’t be there to see it cuz he stays in the Fade, the self-sacrificing bastard.