#i drew this like a week ago after trying to draw a whole like. 5 page comic about it and then stopping it mid-board

[zymstarz]

yeah sure that's how i'll [re]come out

[stardestroyer81]

The artstyle of the Classic Mega Man series, which only began to find its footing just after the third installment, is iconic. I have a major soft spot for Keiji Inafune's artwork for the NES-era Mega Man titles, as well as Ryuji Higurashi's illustrative work for Mega Man 9. I've even spent a good while trying my hand at the style, of which you can check out here!

Though, every artstyle has to start somewhere, and even though the later NES Mega Man titles had some excellent looking artwork, the illustrations for the first couple of games were... interesting. The characters of the original Mega Man and its sequel were drawn in a much more rounded artstyle, looking more chibi like than the anime-esque style it would evolve into, and after the first few Mega Man games, it was quickly improved upon.

When you really take some time to sample Mega Man 1 and 2's artwork, however, you'll find that it's not that bad of an artstyle. Sure, the infamous 'Capcom hand' looked odd from having the middle two fingers fused together, but outside of that, I find that it's an artstyle that doesn't get a lot of representation in Mega Man fanart and is one I've grown to appreciate in these past few weeks.

And from having drawn a near-identical Inafune-styled Mega Man a month ago, yet another challenge for my artstyle replicating smarts arose... could I do it again, but take more after the style of Mega Man 2's artwork?

See for yourself!

I've been playing a whole lot of the first Mega Man Legacy Collection for the past few weeks, and in that time I've beaten all six games (Some even twice or thrice like Mega Man 5), read all of the database entries, and have been sampling the game's enormous backlog of illustrations from Mega Man 1 through 6!

In doing so, I found myself developing a fondness for the artstyle of the first two titles in the series— while I do prefer the artstyle of the later NES games, the humble beginnings of Keiji Inafune's illustrations for Mega Man appealed to me, and it was a style that I definitely wanted to see if I could come close to replicating.

And so, it was shortly decided that I would be drawing Mega Man in the Mega Man 2 artstyle! ... but what pose would I draw him in? I thought it would be neat to have a MM2-styled version of Mega Man from his appearance on Mega Man 10's box art, and the instant I thought of that pose, I got straight to work!

Compared to its modern counterpart, the style of the earlier Mega Man games has some pretty key differences: most glaring are the pupils of the eyes, which are much more wide than the slimmer pupil shapes seen in later titles. The eye shape itself is also a lot more circular, too, and certain aspects of robot master facial features (Such as their mouth or chin) are much larger.

The hands and boots of both Mega Man and robot masters are also greatly simplified, too. The 'feet' section of the boot is much more round, and also lack the 'Z' crease shape you would normally see on non-segmented boots. Instead, the boots (And often other parts of the body, such as the legs or buster) have minor crosshatch shading, though nothing too major.

These were design elements I made sure to account for in my initial sketch, and much like when I last drew Mega Man, the most important part was getting his head to look as 1:1 to the original that I could. You might notice the 'Capcom hand' looks a bit wonky, and this is because I was using my Switch for references and it was tough to draw a good looking one pointed left instead of right— it wasn't a huge deal. I could always fix it when I digitalized it!

After I got the sketch fully lined to my liking, it was time to figure out another crucial aspect to staying true to the look of Mega Man 2's visual style: the colors. The colors I used here were directly picked from Mega Man himself on Mega Man 2's box art, but when I wasn't liking how dark the colors came out, I brightened and desaturated them a slight bit to give it that vintage feel.

The shading was particularly easy, as I referenced the shading from my main reference of Mega Man in 10's main artwork, though I intentionally left some areas unshaded (Such as the buster meter and inner earpiece) seeing as Inafune tended to do the same every now and then.

An extremely small detail that I'm glad I acknowledged was how you can only see Mega Man's right (Or his left) earpiece as opposed to both. In artwork from the first two games, whenever Mega Man is at a 3/4ths angle, only one earpiece is present, whereas both can be seen at the same angle in later games.

I'll be honest, it was actually a whole lot of fun drawing in 2's artstyle, since it's a lot more simplistic compared to the perfection 9 and 10's style demands when replicating it— I may even attempt modern robot masters in the same style to see what they may have looked like in earlier Mega Man titles... or perhaps even draw faux official artwork for the obscure Bond Man!

That said, I hope you've enjoyed my dive into analyzing the artstyle of the earlier Mega Man games, and what my research yielded in perhaps one of my favorite drawings I've done this year!

[corpsentry]

january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: hehe hello cuties, before i get to the chapter, I just wanted to say thank you so much for all of the support and lovely messages you that you sent to me for the last chapter. as I said, it was one that was super personal to me and for it to be so relatable and emotional for you all makes my heart feel so, so full. these themes are going to continue, so please read the warnings cuties. as always, thank you so very much for reading my stories <3 

Part 6 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, HARD fluff to HARD angst, some sensual-azz fuckin’ (muhaha), unprotected sex (stay safe cuties!), lil bit of breath play, nipple play (f), cumshot, mentions of food, changbin has a cute butt (that’s the tweet) 

CWs: aftereffects of traumatic experiences, mentions of past toxic relationship, self sabotaging tendencies 

Word count: 6.6k (remember when i said i wasn’t gonna write long chapters? wellllll...ooP)  

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

When you were back in high school, before you knew a thing about what love was, your Art teacher had given you an assignment: what do you think that love looks like? At first, all you had really known love to be was the kind that you shared with your friends and your parents, and maybe with your family dog. You had read about love in your favorite books and seen it in your favorite movies, but you had never really considered what it looked like. Obviously, the assignment was all up for you to decide, but there being a million and one things that you considered love to be, to put it to paper with your own hand was something different entirely. 

At first, when you thought of love, you thought of the typical: hearts, hugs, the colors red and pink. But, this was too simple. 

“What are you drawing?” You had sneakily whispered to your classmate. 

She shrugged, and continued scratching away at her sketchbook. You had peeked to see what she was putting together, and for her, she had started to draw what looked like a house on the edge of a lake. The house was in the middle of nowhere and it was surrounded by trees of all different kinds and there was a single bench that sat at the edge of the water. 

You figured, love can be a place, so you started drawing that. 

Your pencil swiped over the paper in strokes big and small, and the lead rubbed off on the side of your pinky as you outlined the corners of your apartment building. 

You thought, I love the people who live here, therefore, this must be love. 

It made sense. People and places could make up love. 

When you turned in your drawing of your apartment building you were surprised to see the variety of other paintings and drawings that the other students had turned in. One student had turned in a whole piece that had been drawn with oil pastel. It was a jumbling of colors: mostly red, as you had expected, but it also held streaks of gold, black and teal. You remember your teacher really liking that one. 

Today, if you would’ve gotten that assignment, it would’ve been completely different. 

It was a sunny afternoon when you sat at your easel with your pencil in hand. Drawing out the mere outline and rough draft, tears welled in your eyes. A long time ago you had promised yourself that if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it?

The sun filled your room in the golden hour of the day best it could from your frosted glass window. The warmth that the rays held made your whole body swell with a warmth, and it gave your shaking arms the power to keep going. 

You brushed lightly over the rough canvas with your pencil, tracing out the lines as if they were the very memories that you had kept painted in your mind. 

You drew a snowy night, not much unlike the ones that you had been seeing recently. You drew an empty alley, not lit by much light. You drew the way that the oil slicked in potholes mixed with the snow. You planned out the way that the industry of the city lit his back as he stared out into that dark expanse where you knew that darker figures were hiding. You drew him. You drew him on that exact same night that you had fist seen him: a dark outline, who would become full of color. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“What’s that?” 

Changbin pointed to your easel with a sheet draped over it. 

“A surprise.” You answered. “I know that I’m not good with surprises, but, are you?” 

“I don’t mind them.” He chuckled. “For me?” 

“Mmhm. Its not ready yet so you’ll have to wait.” 

“I’m fine with waiting.” He sighed out. 

You nuzzled closer into his bare chest, right up to his heartbeat. Both of you were admittedly a bit dewy in your sweaty afterglow, but this was of no concern to you. These past few days, this had been your preferred way to drift off to sleep. Even on the occasional times when the both of you would be too busy to make the time, when you finally could see him, it was everything to you. In his large and muscled arms, there was no place else where you had felt safer. You too wrapped your whole being around him with a feeling so close it must’ve been unreal. If you could hear the muffled little rhythm of his heartbeat, you were sure that he could hear yours. 

“Soon, all this snow is gonna melt, and then I can take you to loads of other places. I’m just getting started.” Changbin’s airy breath tickled your scalp. 

“Really? Taking me to all the usual places?” You mocked. 

“No.” He said seriously. “I want to take you to places I haven’t taken anyone before. My secret places. I...you know...wouldn’t mind if you could draw them for me either.” 

You giggled, “Ever heard of taking a picture?” 

“Hey! It’s not the same.” 

“Fineee. Okay, okay. I’ll draw them for you.” Your fingertips traced down the muscles of his back. “Maybe I should start charging if you’re gonna keep being like this.” 

“You don’t do pro-bono?” He ran along with your joke. 

“If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll consider it.” 

He tsked, “Could you please draw for me?” 

You masked another adoring chuckle. “I do like it when you say please.” 

Everything about the one moment felt so sickly sweet, it was like you must’ve dreamt it up. In between the swaddling of sheets, you tried your best to enjoy the one moment: it was just enough to keep the doubtful whispers away. After all that he had done, said, all the pain that he had kissed away, or compliments he had hushed into your ear, the creeping feeling that you hardly deserved it all would rear it’s head time and again, even when you didn’t expect it to.

The two of you were quiet for a moment as you fell into the serenity of just existing together. After a while, you would narrow your focus best on the way that his breaths would rise and fall and the way this his body heat would melt into yours under the mess of sheets that neither of you bothered to fix. He would use his thumb to rub reassuring little strokes into the back of your neck where he had you. 

Your hand would fall down his arm, all the way down this wrist where his scar lived. Ever since you had noticed it, you couldn’t stop looking at it. Every time that you did, you were given a tangible reminder of everything that he had been, and was, to you. You rose the uneven skin to your lips to gift a little kiss to it. 

Changbin tried his best to hide his giddy smirk at the action. 

“Do you have to leave tonight?” You settled his arm around you once more. 

“No. Not tonight. But, for the next few days I don’t think I’ll be able to. They put me on the matinee shifts at the theater. I fucking hate those. No one comes in at all so it’s like I’m just sitting there.” 

“Wanna sneak me in some time this week? I should have a break.” 

“I would but...I’d prefer to keep that job. As much as I hate it.” 

“We could do something this Thursday? You aren’t busy on Thursdays as much right?” 

“Ahhhh I think so.” Changbin rolled the two of you over, allowing himself to lean over top of you. With a sly smirk he lowered his voice to say, “You know, my ribs really aren’t hurting as much any more.” 

“Oooh? Good to know.” You ruffled his curly strands. 

“I’m trying to say that I can go for another round if you would like to?” He bowed his head to kiss lightly into your neck and the fading love bites that he had put there himself. 

Your eyes wandered to your clock telling you that it was nearly 2 in the morning. If you had better judgement, you would’ve said no. But, these days, judgement wasn’t something that you took too seriously. 

He kissed down deeper, and pulled at your skin just in the way that he knew you liked it. Changbin knew the ins and outs of you perfectly, as well as exactly what to do send you quivering under him. All he had to do was press his body into yours so you could feel his weight, and it made you fold just for him. He followed his kisses up your jaw where he then lead them into your bottom lip and over every angle that your mouth would crave him. He often didn’t mean to do it intentionally, but between your parted mouths, his tongue would sneakily find yours, and he would slowly slide it against yours. 

“Do you want to?” He muttered between kisses. 

Under the covers, his hand cascaded down your side in a way that tickled slightly, but also made you shiver. 

He broke from his kiss to hold your eyes seriously. “We don’t have to.” 

“No, I want to.” You reached up to hold his sleepy and puffy face in your hands. 

Changbin said nothing more, but instead returned to weaving kisses back down your neck. Under your waist, you felt him angle up your hips higher and the heat of his tip teased at your entrance still slick with your arousal from before, and now renewed. He bowed his head down to your chest to pump himself with a few muffled grunts. After, he rose his head to hold your eyes with his own. The muscles on his arms flared where he held himself up, and those adorable little stretch marks in the corners of his arms moved with them. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” 

You melted under his compliment. No matter who many times he had said it, you still weren’t use to it. 

“So are youuuu.” You said with a dreamy tone. One other thing that you had figured out about him was that returning such comments to him made him a flustered mess. It was utterly adorable for someone as stoic as him at times. 

“Psh.” He scoffed, then lowered his voice once again. “Beautiful how I fill you up sweetheart?” Changbin angled your waist up higher, then spread your thighs, finally pushing them into your body to tighten you. He aligned himself over you, then pushed himself in agonizingly slow. “Beautiful how I can fuck you so deep? How I can m-make you...” 

He had given up on talking, but rather thrust himself further into you with his shaking breaths and little “mmm’s” getting caught on his tongue. 

“B-Bin...fuck, f-feels s-so good--”

He pushed your legs up closer to your body, allowing himself greater access to graze your g-spot. Your busy fingers found their way around his back to claw all the way down. He still relished in taking his time with you, and would never rush fucking you--it was as if he had all the time in the world to unravel you. You returned around him, tightening has he fucked in and out with his own pace. After a while of doing the same, his hand crept around your neck to give you a couple choking squeezes that made you whimper out like a kitten. He would never keep it going for long however, but rather indulged himself in the way that your gasps would remind him of how good it all felt. After, Changbin dipped his thumb into your mouth to run the pad over your tongue. 

The tip of his teeth caught the skin of his lip which he bit into hard. 

“You feel so good baby. F-feels so good on my cock. It’s all for you angel.” 

An unrestrained groan escaped from your mouth as he continued and your orgasm pooled steadily. In and attempt to steady yourself you clawed back into your pillow supporting your head. 

He swiftly changed your position, taking both of his hands to turn you on your stomach. Without a pause he lead his swelling head back into your pussy where he kept on going at his favored slow pace. Your face smushed into the pillow with hips raised in the air. The fluffy fabric muffled your helpless moans. 

“Louder for me princess.” He growled. 

With one hand he arched over to tweak at your nipples with force: twisting and pulling, then he wet his hand with his own saliva to let your skin feel the cold and wet sensation. His other hand he used to reach around and rub circles into your clit. He was gentle at first, but worked your bud harder and faster. Your knees and legs shook the faster he rubbed, and you spilled your loudest and most unapologetic moans into the room that had risen in temperature. 

“Fuck...” He swore. Changbin allowed himself to quicken his pace inside of you. The action alone sent you spinning wildly into your orgasm: a tear of white hot heat that shook your whole body and turned your swollen bud into a sensitive mess under his fingers which did stop, even when when he knew that you had just cum all over them. The harder he pressed, the more wonderfully painful it felt, and you let your tears fall hot from your eyes to the sheet. You attempted to call out his name, but no words that left your mouth made sense. 

He turned your body once more, using brutish hands on your hips as he pulled you overtop of the sheets to fuck you into the bed once more with your sweating back stuck to the comforter. Your body shook with your orgasm still, and you needily brought his lips down to yours to kiss him with your thank you’s as he milked himself out in your tightening walls. 

Changbin was animalistic in the way that he finally let his hips snap over you, at last reaching his orgasm mere seconds after he had pulled out and jerked himself over you. Ribbons of his white cum came spilling out over your gasping chest and stomach and dripped lazily from his pink and flaring tip. He took in shallow inhales as he did, and kept rubbing until the very end and he had nothing more to give. Even as his hand dropped, you took his dick in your own hand to just twist lightly and ride out the last of his orgasm. He softened in your hand with eyes closed in his focus and came down. 

The combination of your lust held in the air for a few silent moments, then he collapsed back down next to you into a blushing and exhausted mess. His pink chest shook, and his soft heather eyes found you. 

“We should...probably take a shower right?” 

“Probably.” You grinned. 

Changbin leaned over to plant even more sugary sweet kisses on top of your lips. He always was one to admire his work, so he chuckled lightly seeing the way that he had properly covered you in his cum. 

“I can help you clean that off.” 

The bed shook and he rose to get you something to clean up. You wished that you could’ve moved to see him saunter around your room without a single piece of clothing on. It was no secret that he had one hell of a cute butt. 

Changbin helped you out of the bed, finding that your legs had started to shake and betray you a bit more harshly than you had intended. He ran the water for you both, inviting you in to take the task of cleaning you to himself. He took the suds in his own hands to brush them all over your body and took careful and gentle attention to the more sensitive parts of your body. He giggled a little at the way that even under the warm water, your nipples would still harden when he ghosted his fingers over them with soap. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You scolded him. 

He took care of the little bruises on your neck and collarbones, giving them kisses under the clear stream of water as if he was healing them. After he was done, you did the same and cleaned out his hair with your shampoo. He always let out happy little groans when you would massage his scalp. He still had a couple scrapes on his face from a few weeks ago, so you kissed all of them too. 

Changbin’s favorite part was how he could mess up your hair with the towel afterword and make you look as ridiculous as possible. Of course, you would do the same. You would brush your teeth together, and dress somewhat all of the way back again. A while ago he decided keeping clothes at your place was a good idea, but you ended up wearing them more than he did. You blamed it on dirty laundry, but you really did just like the way that they would smell all tangled up in your blankets on your nights alone. 

With bare legs, you would tangle yourselves all up in eachother once more, and not even bother to look at what time it was then. 

As it had become his habit, before the two of you drifted to sleep, Changbin would kiss into your forehead “l love you. You know?” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chocolatey goodness wafted up Felix’s nose, and he let out a happy little squeal. 

“~Thank youuu~” He beamed to the waitress. 

He took a careful sip not to burn his tongue, then turned his head to watch the way that the snow had started to flurry outside of the diner window. Minho flipped the pages of his book and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Whatcha reading?” Felix said with a little tap of his feet under the table. 

Rather than answering, Minho sighed out and closed his book. “Nothing now. If you’re gonna ask questions, then I’ll get distracted, so, nothing now.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Felix frowned. 

Minho rolled his eyes, suddenly becoming exasperated over his new friend’s dramatic reaction. 

“It was something that I’m assigned to read for one of my classes. It’s about economics or something like that. I’m kind of just skimming; reading because I have to....” He took a sip of his coffee. “Y/n should be reading the same book considering that we are in the same class...but I haven’t even seen you with it yet.” 

You prodded at your plate of half eaten waffles. “About that...” 

“If you think that I’m gonna give you the SparkNotes you are sorely mistaken.” 

You writhed in your seat a bit like an upset toddler. “Come onnnnn, Minho, you know that I don’t have time for that, working at the library and such...”  

“--More like stealing my roommate from me. I hardly see him at our apartment anymore.” Minho made his remark with a type of snark, but knowing him, he was still just as sarcastic. 

“Yeah,” Felix piped up. “The three of us haven’t hung out in a while either!” 

“...Sorry, I’ve just been getting...caught up in things.” 

Minho cleared his throat. “I’m not saying that its a bad thing. It’s just something that I’ve noticed.” 

Felix nodded, “Me too! I’m really happy for you!! So is Chan, don’t get me wrong. We haven’t seen you so happy and like, not serious in such a long time. Really, I’m so so glad that you have someone like him for a boyfriend.” 

Your fork scratched your plate. “--Boyfriend?” 

“Yeah!” Felix beamed. “Isn’t that what he is?” 

Minho too held an expectant gaze. 

“I-I don’t think...we hadn’t really talked about what it is that we’re doing...or are.” 

“So you’re saying that he’s not your boyfriend?” Minho cocked his head in his confusion. “Well, you ask him and he’ll think that it’s a different story.” 

“H-he talks about me?” You sat up straighter. 

“Well, he hasn’t explicitly said anything, but the way that he never shuts the fuck up...” Minho suddenly became much more interested in his coffee. 

“What? You don’t want him to be your boyfriend?” Felix looked just as confused. 

In your hands, you crinkled up the napkin that you had resting on your lap. You hadn’t in fact, ever thought of such. Merely, you had thought that you loved him, and that you enjoyed being around him and that he had made you happy. Was it odd that the thought had never crossed your mind? 

“And he hasn’t said anything about it either?” Felix leaned in. To his side, Minho nudged his arm in the most non-obvious way possible. 

“...No?” 

Your heartbeat quickened in pace. 

“Af...after everything that happened back then? Didn’t you say that he like, confessed or something and you did the same? You’ve only been hanging out with eachother for weeks?” Felix pushed his cocoa away from himself to lay his hands flat on the table. 

“I...don’t think that we should press the issue.” Minho patted down the boy sitting next to him. 

It was the feeling that you had been avoiding for weeks: that kind of uncertainty and fear that you had pushed down so far after the night that it all came together, but you didn’t expect it to manifest like this. In your chest a knot tied itself together tightly and in a way that you couldn’t explain. 

“I...just like what's happening right now between us, I didn’t think that he would want--” 

Felix nudged Minho by the hip, motioning for him to let him out of his side of the booth. Minho rolled his eyes, but did so muttering, “I said we shouldn’t press the issue but here you go...” 

Felix slid over to your side of the booth, nearly shoving you up close to the wall with how near he scooched to you. Carefully, he removed the napkin that you had scrunched up into your palm. 

“Relax okay? You’re doing it again. Just calm down.” While his tone was sweet, you couldn’t help but find some condescending edge--real or not. 

“Doing what? I don’t think that I’m doing anything wrong??” 

Felix let you squeeze his hand tight, as patient as ever. 

“Do you not want him to be your boyfriend?” He repeated. “But he treats you so nicely? There’s nothing to worry about.” 

At first you were angry at yourself, angry at yourself for feeling the hot tears well up in your eyes in public, 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

Secondly, you were furious at yourself for feeling anything less than the happiness that had made up your whole world for the past few weeks. You had worked so hard just to make something that made sense, and he made sense. Why did it have to be much more complicated than that? 

“Y/n?” Felix bowed his head down with his softening gaze. 

“F-Felix, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I’m just trying to understand so I can help you out with this. Clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you about, I don’t know, putting a label on it? If that’s the right word--” 

Minho sucked at his teeth, “He’s too nice to say that you’re self sabotaging again. Listen, you don’t have to have the answers right now, we’re just saying you’re getting in your own way at having something that could be really great.” 

Felix shot daggers in Minho’s direction. 

“I wasn’t gonna say this, but Bin’s been going through shit right now with his family that I’m sure he isn’t telling you about. Someone tipped them off about what he’s been doing and they’re furious. He’s been telling them that no one knows that he’s tied to them when he raps but they aren’t listening. Literally when he goes to see you it’s like, what’s helping him forget all that shit. He cares about you a fuck ton, and I’ve heard about it all. He wants you to be his girlfriend. Believe me. Don’t know why he hasn’t brought it up yet, but...” 

Felix took in a shaky breath, then turned his attention back to you. “Besides all that, I think that you should at least talk to him about this all. I had no idea that you felt this way. I’m sorry for making assumptions. At least, if you and him talk about it, you can figure something out right?” 

You took at the papery and crinkled napkin and dabbed it harshly on your eyes to dry your tears before they had a chance to run further down your face. 

“Why the fuck doesn’t he tell me anything?” Your voice wavered. 

Minho folded his hands on the table. “Knowing him, he probably thinks that it would be burdening to you. Selfless dick. He thinks that putting that shit on you somehow makes him seem like a handful or some shit.” 

“B-but I don’t feel that way?” 

“Then tell him!!” Felix’s volume rose. “When you talk to him, tell him that.” 

“What the fuck is this, a drama?” Minho laughed a little. “These communication skills are god-awful.” 

“Oh fuck off Minho,” Felix rubbed your back to soothe you. “This is real life, and we’re here to help out Y/n.” 

“That’s fuck off Minho-hyung to you.” The older boy stuck out his tongue. 

You wiped your nose against your hand, then Minho threw another napkin from the holder in your direction. 

“I promise that things will get better when you talk to him.” Felix nodded. “Talking always helps.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Thursday afternoon came, and the forecast had called for snow, but none had come. Rather, the atmosphere had turned to be dreary and grey the whole day long, and the temperature dropped so low that some local schools had to cancel classes for the day. Your university had decided to do the same. While you had been thankful and decided to spend the day working on your various projects, you couldn’t bring your hand to the canvas. 

All day long you had spent figuring out what it really was that you wanted to say to Changbin, and you still hadn’t figured it out yet. Even you didn’t know what it was entirely that scared you deeply. But, you knew that somewhere you did. 

Why her? 

You could do better. 

Isn’t she...boring? 

You hugged your legs to yourself as you waited on your couch. The memories seeped into your brain like some kind of poison diffusing its way. 

No, no. You’re wrong. You tried your best to banish them. 

You’re all mine. No one else’s. Don’t you ever forget that. Tell me. Who’s baby are you? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, and dug your nails into the fleshy part of your knees where you held them. 

You don’t own me. You don’t have the fucking power. 

Three knocks clicked at your door, and you knew that it was Changbin. Your chest shook with a type of anxiety that felt like prickling thorns. You rose to open the door. 

“Fuck. It’s so freezing out there.” Was the first thing that he said. “I wouldn’t mind not having to go back out there if you are?” He slung his coat over one of chairs to your two person dining table. As soon as he was undressed, you were overcome with the desire to be as close as possible as you could get to him. It had been your safe place. 

Changbin let out a little surprised noise when you launched your body at him, but he just as quickly held you back firmly. 

“Is everything okay?” 

For a moment you let his rosemary and cedarwood cast aside all the ideas and words that ate away at you. 

“Can we talk?” You mumbled. 

“Yeah, of course. Can we sit down? Get a blanket maybe?” You nodded and let him do the work of going back to your room to get back your knit blanket that he knew you liked best. He threw it over his shoulders them beckoned you to join him in his arms. You snuggled right up into his chest where he had tucked himself into the corner of the couch. “Want to talk about it now?” 

With glistening eyes you tried your best to look up at him. His cheeks were still bitten pink from the cold. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents? Or about what’s going on right now?” 

Changbin sighed and bit at his lower lip in his discontent. “Minho said something didn’t he?” 

“You can tell me, you know?” 

Changbin shook his head. “It’s not your problem to worry about, so I don’t want you do.” 

“But you’re my problem to worry about. Don’t you get that?” 

He sighed once more, then rested his head atop of yours. Where he held you around your arms, he rubbed gently.  

“And if...being with me helps you...I’ll come around anytime alright? You don’t just have to come here.” 

He laughed a little. “My place isn’t as private as yours is.” 

You toyed with the fraying fabric of the blanket. “You know that I can be quiet if I need to be. Or if you just want me to sleep over, I can do that too.” 

“I don’t want you going out of your way--” 

“--I don’t mind.” You nuzzled a little deeper. “So, your parents are giving you a hard time?” 

He tsked. “Yeah. It’s just...stupid is all. They care so much about what I do and don’t do when I left so it wouldn’t bother them. They’re trying hand out some kind of threats to me like they have the right to do so....they don’t.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

Changbin helped you up a bit higher up his body so your head could rest on his shoulder. “Nothing. Keep doing what I’ve always been. No one knows except the people I have closest to me. They’re worrying over nothing.” 

You formed a “oh” with your lips. 

“But, it’s nothing to worry about. I promise.” 

Already, you had forgotten what you really had decided to talk to him about. It had slipped from your mind just as quickly as you had let it arise. The two of you grew quiet, and you let yourself become overcome with the feeling and warmth that his body and the blanket gave to you. You wondered if he would’ve gotten mad if you had fallen asleep just then. It didn’t seem like the worst idea.

“As long as we’re talking about things, do you mind if I ask you something?” Changbin asked after planting a small kiss on your forehead. 

“What’s that?” You said with a sleepy and cracking voice. 

“You...don’t have to have the answer right now, but I just thought it would be worth it to ask, since we’ve been doing you know, this, for a few weeks now. You already know how I feel about you, I think that I’ve made it pretty damn clear, but, I was thinking that we could make things exclusive between us? Like, it just becomes me and you?” 

Drip by drip, the drowsiness that had swept over your eyes dissipated. 

“Would you be up for that? I just, it seems a bit odd to me that we haven’t talked about it yet considering...well, I think that it would be easier if we knew what we were so then we could, I don’t know, plan or something like that? It’s kind of a commitment, I know, but I want you to know that I’m willing--” 

“Bin...” You pulled yourself up from his chest. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Did-did I say something wrong?” 

Who’s baby are you? 

“You want me to...be yours?” 

“Well, not exactly, you know what I’ve said before, but, I would like you to be my girlfriend--” 

A sob clogged your throat. Now that he had finally said it, the realizations came flooding over you like the deathly winter chill. 

“Angel, are you scared again? I told you that you don’t have to with me, I swear that I don’t ever want to hurt you or anything like what happ--” 

“--Like happened what? Back when I was so fucking stupid to get myself locked up in something that I thought would be good for me? Why is it that you want me to be your girlfriend, huh? I-is it because I-I fall over for you? I can’t run away from you? Am-am I just a good fuck for you? What is it?” 

“What the fuck? Where is this coming from? Y/n, you know that I love you, I fucking love you like crazy and I don’t think any of those things!! I’m not trying to restrain you our use you or anything like that, I don’t know why the hell you would think that!” 

“B-because you might not now, but what about later down the line...when I get boring or you figure out that I’m not as exciting like I used to be or--” 

“--What?! No! That’s not gonna happen!” Changbin reached out to pull you back into his arms, but you shook him off. 

Salty tears filled the corners of your mouth. “The last time that I-I did something like this, I--” 

“--Well this isn’t last time, this is this time, okay? It’s different! I swear to God that I’m not that fucking asshole. I get that you’re scared, okay, that’s totally understandable, but I’m asking you to trust me alright? Can you trust me?” 

Part of you wanted to trust him. In fact, a much larger part of yourself wanted to trust him so bad, it hurt. But, a smaller part of you, a much smaller part of you still screamed into the abyss that he was the last person in the world that you could trust; and that voice, was much louder. 

“I want you to be my girlfriend, and I want to give you everything that I have. All my fucking time, my attention, hell, just minutes ago you said that I was your problem, can’t you be mine? Is that not allowed? I’m just...I DON’T get you!!!” Changbin growled out the tail end of his sentence and only after he had said it he realized it was much louder than he intended. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...please. I’m not mad at you.” 

Your body had weakened, so when he had reached out for you, you let yourself fall into his arms. 

“Angel, can’t you see that what I’m trying to do is the complete opposite of what you think I am? Yeah I mean, it would be nice to call you my girlfriend, but not because I’m trying to control you or anything, but because...fuck, you make me happier, made me feel like I’m less lonely in this fucking crazy-ass world. I want to be that for you and you only.” 

Poisonous thoughts. Why were they even more alluring than the antidote that you had right in front of your face? 

Your limp body mustered up the strength of push yourself off his chest. Looking into his eyes you felt numb. With all the care that he held for you, you felt as if you didn’t deserve one single ounce of it. 

Why her?  

You figured that in some parallel earth, you would’ve been able to have said yes. In that parallel earth, nothing bad would’ve ever happened, and you wouldn’t have been crouched in that alley with snow melting into your dress. You would’ve lived a normal life without pain and doubt. Maybe you would’ve met him there too, and you would’ve been able to say yes. 

“You...don’t have to have the answer right now, but can you please consider it...for me? I meant everything that I said, but I...I also can’t wait forever.” You heard his voice grow thick. “I know that if...you can’t do it, or iff you don’t know, then I can’t just make it happen. There’s not a lot else that I can do. But at least I want to try.” 

You could do better. 

“I-I think that I need to be alone...right now--tonight.” Two more hot tears fell down your cheeks with a sting like a papercut. 

“Right now?” 

“Yeah, just--there’s things that I need to think about, I don’t..I don’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“No. I understand.” Changbin sniffled. 

Slowly, your two bodies seperated, and the heat from his body faded. You thought to yourself, it wasn’t yours to keep in the first place. 

You lead him quietly to the door where you watched him lace up his shoes and throw on his coat. His eyes had become puffy, as much as you figured you had looked as well. His grey eyes looked tired, just like the dreary day that you had spent all day hiding from. Still, he smiled. 

“Y/n. I know that you think that you’re hard to love. But you’re not. If you take away anything from this, I hope you know that your past doesn’t define you, and that you can have happiness after it all. I want to be that for you. If you’ll let me. Only if you’ll let me.” 

Your clogged nose made a horrible stuffed sound and you nodded. You had listened to his words, but had you heard? 

He sighed with finality, then bent down to kiss at the salty taste on your lips. 

“Call me, okay?” 

You closed the door after him, then collapsed down the door. Your pent up sobs flew out of your chest with loud and ugly sounding sobs. Each one hurt more than the last to get out. You crumbled against the wood door, and didn’t even mind the cool draft from under the crack. Your world became a blur in front of your watery eyes and your hands shook as they took your phone from your pocket. 

Words of self loathing filled your ears as you searched up the name, but it was the only one that you could think of in your blind emptiness. 

If only things could go back to the way that they were. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

The walk to his apartment was cold, freezing even. You had worn the shoes that you had been scolded for, and the coat that provided you with barely any warmth. You knew the way to his apartment well--it was almost muscle memory by now. Streetlights passed you overhead, and finally the snow that was promised started to drift from the heavens and before you. 

Your hands cracked with the cold when you pushed the button to his intercom, and he buzzed you in without saying a word. You showed yourself up the staircase with empty sounding footsteps echoing against the walls. Your eyes had welled with tears once you reached his floor, but you blinked them away harshly. It was a futile attempt considering that he would see how red your eyes had become. 

His door was cracked with old paint, and the number had been scratched off with age. You knocked one time, no more than that. Somewhere a tiny voice had hoped that he wouldn’t hear the knock at all, and figure that you hadn’t even come up, and that you could quietly slip back away. 

But he didn’t. He must’ve been waiting. 

He too looked to be a mess: his cheeks and eyes had puffed up and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. He wore minimal clothing that hung loosely on his frame. 

“--Jisung--” 

Before you could say any more, he had leapt into you, and wrapped his arms around you so tightly that he could’ve rid you of all your breath. 

“Baby, thank you so much for coming. Thank you so much. I’m sorry how I acted at the concert. I just missed you so much....I missed you so much.” 

[ceaderblocks]

Like Real People Do

A collab with @mine-sara-sp ! She drew the amazing art for this fic ♡ 

Iskall was in the middle of working on Sahara with Mumbo when he realized a very important, completely out-of-the-blue fact.

Iskall had been hanging around Mumbo for years before realizing they had never done a redstone grind together. Sure, they had gone End Busting and raided the Nether together, but they had never once strip mined for redstone.

“What a waste!” Iskall said out loud, slamming a shulker box down on the ground with much more force then required.

“What’s a waste?” Mumbo startled, looking at Iskall after his sudden outburst.

“You are!” Iskall gestured to Mumbo with both arms. The redstoner looked offended, and then a little hurt.

“Well, I think my skills are valuable and contribute greatly-“

“No, no, no no no,” Iskall cut him off. “You’re a magnet to redstone. You always seem to mine a bazillion shulker boxes-“

“It’s easy to find!”

“-and it’s a waste I haven’t gone mining with you. If we go together, you’ll do your weird redstone-attraction thing, and I’ll be set for the season! Plus, I need more for Sahara anyways.”

“... Do we need to go right now?”

“Yes,” Iskall said cheerfully, placing his hands on his hips. “I accidentally broke the last repeater I had when I slammed that shulker box down.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mumbo and Iskall found themselves underground in a long, hollow strip mine.

“Alright,” Iskall rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get mining! I’ll take the left side, you take the right.”

“What?” Mumbo asked, scrunching his nose in confusion. “Why?”

Iskall stared at Mumbo for a moment.

“So we can spread out and quicken out chances of finding redstone?” Iskall said, suddenly uncertain of his plan.

“Oh, well there’s a vein three blocks down and to the right,” Mumbo said, pointing in the general area he had just stated.

“Dude, what.”

“Can’t you feel it?” Mumbo asked.

“No! Oh my god, Mumbo,” Iskall squished his friend’s face between his hands. “How much redstone have you inhaled to get this superpower?”

“Well- I mean- well, you know,” Mumbo stuttered, gesturing wildly.

“Can you do this for other blocks?” Iskall asked, Mumbo’s face still in his hands.

Mumbo shook his head. “Just redstone.”

“That’s insane!” Iskall said with a laugh, dropping his hands. “You might want to get Xisuma to check that out, it doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh,” Mumbo said, his face falling. It was news to him that other hermits couldn’t detect redstone. Iskall said it was wrong, but Mumbo, from his first memory, could always sense redstone.

“It’s alright dude,” Iskall said, and threw an arm around Mumbo’s shoulder. “I don’t think it's an immediate health concern. Plus, we still have redstone to get!”

Iskall patted Mumbo’s chest with his free hand, spun away from him and pulled out his pickaxe in one smooth motion.

“Let’s get mining!”

Mumbo agreed nervously and directed Iskall where the nearest vein of redstone was.

That night, covered in redstone, Mumbo sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his red shulker box. It hummed with power, and Mumbo could see the faint outline of the redstone dust wrapped in a bag. He wondered why no one else could see it too.

——

Grian stood in front of Mumbo’s witch farm, humming to himself. He needed some goldstone (and gunpowder), and decided to borrow some while Mumbo was AFK. The problem was Mumbo was AFK inside the witch farm, which threw a very large wrench in Grian’s plan.

“I can sneak around while he’s AFK! It’ll be fiiine.” Grian said to himself. “It’s not like he’s awake.”

With his pep-talk out of the way, Grian opened the door to the farm. He immediately gave a small scream as he came face-to-face with Mumbo, staring directly at him.

“Oh!” Grian gave a nervous laugh. “Hey Mumbo! I was just coming to borrow some glowstone!”

Mumbo didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t react at all. Grian frowned.

“Uh, hello? Mumbo?” The builder waved his hand in front of Mumbo’s face. The redstoner stared on, unblinking.

“Oh! You’re AFK? Who AFK’s with their eyes open?” Grian asked. Leaning forwards, he frowned.

“Don’t your eyes get dry?” Grian asked. “You really are AFK. I can basically see the loading screen in your brain.”

Grian scoffed, and stood back. Then he frowned, and leaned forwards. Now that he was looking, there was something in Mumbo’s eyes. It didn’t seem like a reflection, either. As Grian looked closer, he could see three circles ellipsing themselves, moving constantly to create a sphere shape.

“Huh, it kinda looks like a screensaver,” Grian said, tilting his head and leaning in closer to admire Mumbo’s eyes.

“Kinda like NPC rebooting...” Grian muttered. He was much too close, their noses almost touching when Mumbo suddenly blinked, the sphere shrinking and being replaced with a pupil. Grian shrieked and jumped back, but Mumbo didn’t respond for a moment, robotically blinking again before giving his head a small shake, emotion returning to his face.

“Grian!” He said. “What’re you doing- hey, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

“Oh! I, uh,” Grian waved his hands around, trying to come up with an excuse why he had been nose-to-nose with Mumbo. “I was, uh, stealing glowstone?”

“Oh, you just had to ask.” Mumbo said, unfazed.

“Wait, do you not…” Grian paused. Mumbo had a terrible poker face, and would tease Grian mercilessly about this interaction. But he wasn’t. It was almost like he wasn’t aware it had happened, which was impossible.

NPC sometimes takes a few moments to reboot and never remembers the first 5 seconds of waking up. A rogue thought in Grian’s head provided.

But NPC was a machine, and Mumbo was not, and Grian was a little thrown off by the whole thing.

“Gri?” Mumbo asked, looking concerned.

“You know what? I just remembered I had some at home. Bye!” Grian said hurriedly, snatching rockets from his inventory and flying off.

“What in the world was that?” Grian asked himself, a large frown on his face and worry in his mind. “People don’t need to reboot.”

——

The more Grian thought about his interaction, the more concerned he became. He knew how robots acted, and Mumbo was not a robot. Uncapping his marker, Grian set to work writing everything down on his large whiteboard.

Robotic Traits. He wrote, underlining the title.

Robotic Movements

Rebooting when AFK or offline

Monotone or simple emotions

Overly polite

Grian paused, and added a smaller bullet point under the last.

(except when trying to kill me or take over the server)

He started on his next list, switching to a red marker and drawing an arrow from each robotic point to an explanation of why Mumbo Jumbo couldn’t possibly be a robot.

Mumbo Jumbo

Robotic Motions -> He’s just lanky and exhausted most of the time

Rebooting when AFK or offline -> dissociation(?)

Monotone or simple emotions -> mumbo is deadpan

Overly Polite -> ???

(except when trying to kill me or take over the server)

Grian sighed. His answers weren’t very convincing to anyone, let alone his own paranoia. He had been killed and kidnapped by both NPC Grian and Robot Grian in the past, and he couldn’t get Mumbo’s AFK loading icon out of his head. What if Mumbo wasn’t really a robot, but had been replaced by his own copy? What if this mechanical copy of his friend was trying to overtake the server? What had it done with the real Mumbo?

How long had the real Mumbo been gone for?

“Dude,” Iskall said, breaking Grian out of his spiraling thoughts. “What is… this?”

“It’s, uh,” Grian paused, trying to think of an explanation. “Well, I think Mumbo has been kidnapped and replaced by an evil machine counterpart.”

“...What?” Iskall said, letting out a nervous chuckle upon seeing how serious Grian was.

“No! Seriously!” Grian grabbed Iskall’s shoulders. “Listen, I’ve been replaced by robots many times in my past-”

“ You Have!?”

“-And I know what they act like! Seriously, Mumbo is always jerky and uncoordinated, just like Robot Grian. He’s suspiciously polite, almost like manners have been programmed into him! Plus I saw him wake up from AFK just a few hours ago, Iskall, it wasn’t natural. He rebooted.”

Iskall stared at him for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“Well,” He finally settled on saying, gently removing Grian’s hands from his shoulders. “That certainly is a theory.”

“You don’t believe me?” Grian cried, wrapping his arms around his torso, clearly distressed.

“Woah, woah,” Iskall said, “It’s not that I don’t believe you! It would explain Mumbo’s weird redstone mining.”

“His what?”

“He can, like, see it through blocks. It was so strange. He could also feel it when it was deeper,” Iskall said, deep in thought. “It was very useful when we were mining it, but it was very odd.”

“Oh my god,” Grian muttered, and sat down on a nearby shulker box. “He’s a machine. Mumbo’s been replaced.”

“Oh Grian,” Iskall placed a comforting hand on Grian’s back. “Let’s not jump ahead, okay? Why don’t we get more information first?”

Grian brought his head from his hands and nodded in silent agreement. He just prayed that Mumbo wasn’t suffering like he had.

----

Embarrassingly enough, it took Mumbo almost a week to notice Grian’s silence and avoidance of him. No more Sahara meetings were called, and Grian often said the bare minimum to him. Uncomfortable, Mumbo brought it up to Iskall once while they worked on Sahara together.

“Hey Iskall?”

“Hmm?” his friend responded, chest deep in a shulker box.

“Is… Is Grian mad at me?”

Iskall’s head hit the top of the box, and he let out a short curse. “Why would you think that?”

“I feel like he’s been avoiding me. Since he swung by my witch farm last week, actually.” Mumbo said, frowning. If he said something that made Grian angry or uncomfortable, he wanted to apologize for it.

“Nah,” Iskall said with a lackluster shrug. If Mumbo had been paying attention he would’ve seen the sweat on Iskall’s brow. “I think he’s just busy.”

“Oh,” Mumbo said.

“Speaking of busy,” Iskall stood. “I’ve got to go grab more redstone. I’m out. See you in a bit!”

“Okay,”  Mumbo said, his friend flying off with a wave.

Biting his lip, Mumbo noticed Iskall left his Redstone shulker box. They had just gone redstone mining a week ago, had Iskall run out that quickly? Mumbo opened the shulker box (not that he needed to) but he hoped the red outline he could see around it would be wrong for once.

He inhaled sharply.

It was full.

Sighing, Mumbo closed it. He decided that instead of overthinking why his friends were suddenly ignoring him and lying to him, he’d work on redstone instead.

Redstone, at least, was easily fixable.

-----

Cleo stood in front of Sahara, her face scrunched in an unpleasant emotion. Something in the shopping district stunk, and she followed her nose to find out what. It had led her to the redstone part of Sahara, overwhelming her senses.

It wasn’t a stench that could be smelt by normal hermits. She knew it well, it was her own. It was the stench of magic overworking itself to keep something alive.

Whatever this magic was keeping alive, it was working very, very hard.

“Hello?” She called out. “Wow, you guys need an air freshener in this place- oh! Mumbo!”

“Hello, Cleo!” Mumbo said cheerfully.

Cleo smiled, watching the redstone-covered hermit approach. Then she frowned.

“Mumbo, you smell dead.” Cleo said. “Well, not dead. You smell... un-alive.”

“I- wow. I don’t know what to say.” Mumbo said with an awkward laugh.

Cleo leaned closer, taking an intense sniff. Mumbo leaned backwards, a little uncomfortable.

“Yeah. It’s you.” Cleo confirmed. “What’re you working on?”

“Oh, uh... redstone?” Mumbo said, gesturing to himself, very confused with the whole scenario. His usually neat suit was covered in redstone, the red dust already settled in his hair.

“Are Grian and Iskall here?” Cleo asked. Mumbo made a face at that.

“Uh, no, actually. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“How long is a while?” Cleo asked, pushing past Mumbo and walking into the redstone circuitry.

“Oh, uh, maybe two weeks?” Mumbo said, frowning and fiddling with a ring on his finger.

“Huh,” Cleo said. “It’s because you need a shower.”

“Excuse me?” Mumbo said.

“Seriously, you smell like redstone and overheating code.”

“I showered this morning, thank you!” Mumbo said, a little angry.

“Then why,” Cleo turned and poked Mumbo in the chest, a small amount of redstone poofing off his suit. “Do you smell like an overheating machine?”

“I don’t-“ Mumbo stopped talking when Cleo took another long sniff.

“Mumbo, are you human?” She asked suddenly.

“What-“ Mumbo was furious. “Yes! Of course I am! God Cleo, what is wrong with you?”

Mumbo grabbed rockets from his inventory with much more aggression then they probably deserved. He lit one and flew off before Cleo could get another word in, and the Zombie watched him go, unbothered by his words.

“I guess I should see X,” Cleo muttered to herself, the scent lightening as Mumbo flew away.

——

NPC Grian usually kept to himself. He had a small plot of land that he had built outside the Hermit’s main map, not to be undiscovered, but to be peaceful. Hermits swinging by to say hello was not uncommon, and Grian came by every week or so to catch him up with whatever chaos had happened.

NPC was not surprised to hear a knock at his front door on a stormy, Thursday night. Grian often stayed when it stormed. He was a little surprised to see a soaked Mumbo standing at his door instead.

“Hello, Mumbo Jumbo.”

“Hey NPC.” Mumbo said, shivering slightly in the rain. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” NPC said, stepping to the side and letting the redstoner in. As Mumbo passed, a line of stats popped into NPC’s view, as it did for all hermits.

Name: Mumbo Jumbo

Species: Machine

Level: 54

Health: 20/20

Staus: Online

Role: Player

“Thanks. Sorry for invading, I needed somewhere without any Hermits.” Mumbo apologized.

“I understand,” NPC said, handing Mumbo a blanket and a towel. Mumbo smiled appreciatively, taking the towel and scrunching his hair dry. The dark, normally neat locks fell around his face, highlighting how pale Mumbo actually was.

“Sometimes humans get a little overwhelming,” NPC smiled, and Mumbo paused, a confused look coming over his face. NPC waited for his response.

“Uh, yeah.” Mumbo finally settled on saying, removing his suit jacket. “I guess we can.”

We? NPC mentally filed away the way Mumbo had used that language.

“Would you like some tea?” NPC offered instead, guiding Mumbo to the couch.

“Oh, yes please.” Mumbo said, all but collapsing into the cushions. The large fireplace in front of him was flickering, the fire strong but not overpowering.

NPC didn’t say anything while he made two cups of camomile tea, letting the clinking of cups and the whisper of the fire fill the air. Mumbo seemed much more relaxed by the time NPC came in, wrapped in blankets and eyes half-lidded.

“Your tea,” NPC said, offering the mug. Mumbo reached to grab it. “Careful not to spill it, you’ll fry yourself.”

Mumbo paused, retracting his hands. “Fry?”

“Your circuits,” NPC said, as if it was common knowledge, and he shoved the mug into Mumbo’s hands.

“I don’t have circuits?” Mumbo said, thoroughly confused. “You sound like Cleo. She said I smelt like an overheating machine.”

NPC hummed at that, realizing a few things at once.

One:  Mumbo has been confronted by Zombie Cleo about his origin, and most likely ran away from that conversation if the knock at my door meant anything.

Two:  Mumbo’s friends are starting to realize he might not be human.

Three: Mumbo does not realize that he is not human.

Four: Mumbo Jumbo must be malfunctioning if he is unaware that he is a machine.

A reset should fix that problem.

“Mumbo,” NPC said and sat next to him. If Mumbo thought he was human, NPC would have to treat him like that. “What made Zombie Cleo think that?”

Mumbo scoffed. “She said that I smelt ‘un-alive’ and like a ‘machine’. And redstone! That one was probably true though. It’s just like Grian the other day! He came over to get glowstone while I was AFK, and when I woke up he was a few feet away and super flushed. He said something about rebooting, and then flew off before grabbing glowstone!”

NPC took the mug from Mumbo’s hands as the redstoner got more animated when speaking.

“Oh! And then Iskall! We went redstone mining and he said he couldn’t see the redstone under the blocks, but he must be able too, because he always has lots of redstone too! He acted the whole trip like he didn’t know where it was, which, frankly, it just rude. Now Grian and Iskall have been ignoring me!”

Mumbo huffed and sat back. NPC handed him his mug again, and Mumbo took a very long sip.

“Thank you, NPC.” Mumbo finally said after a minute. “For listening. And also the tea.”

“Of course,” NPC said with a gentle smile. “Can I suggest a solution?”

“You have one?” Mumbo said, thoroughly confused.

“Of course. You just need a reset.”

“Not you too! Now you’re talking to me with weird machine terms that I know you don’t use those with Grian!”

NPC frowned. It was worse than he thought.

“That is because Grian is not a machine.”

Mumbo stared at him a moment, before placing his mug down and standing abruptly.

“Thank you, NPC. I have to go.” Mumbo headed towards the door when a strong grip caught his wrist. NPC tightened it as Mumbo struggled against it.

“Mumbo, when you get to respawn, don’t restart right away.”

“NPC, let me go!”

“Listen to me,” NPC said. “Don’t respawn right away. Just wait until you feel ready.”

“I don’t control respawn!” Mumbo said, his voice rising in fear. He desperately tried to break NPC’s grip, but his exterior was not made of metal as the builder’s was.

“Good luck, Mumbo Jumbo.” NPC said, and summoned a sword into his hand.

“NPC, no-!”

< MumboJumbo was slain by NPC_Grian >

——

Mumbo reached the void and was filled with panic. Immediately he went to hit the large, looming ‘Respawn’ button out of muscle memory. Right as his fingers brushed the lettering, he stopped.

He stayed still and waited as if he expected some invisible force to push his hand on the button, but nothing happened.

He always thought he had to respawn immediately, but here he was, hand hovering over the option as time ticked on.

The other hermits just woke up in their beds, he was sure of that. He moved his hand from the looming button, and took a deep breath.

Something else to add to the list of odd things about himself.

NPC said he could wait until he felt better, right? Besides, he had a lot to think about. Iskall and Grian were ignoring him anyways, and he didn’t really want to see Cleo or NPC. He could just wait a few minutes and collect his thoughts. Nothing bad could possibly happen, he was already dead.

He’d just stay here for a while. Just enough to collect his thoughts. Then he’d go back.

Just a few minutes.

Just a few...

----

Xisuma had never felt so much anxiety in his life. Having been an Admin for ten or so years, he was pretty adept at solving all problems. Evil counterpart destroying the server? Xisuma could deal with it. Bugs and code problems? He could do it in his sleep.

A server player being killed and not respawning for two days despite there being no bugs and his code being perfect? Xisuma was out of luck.

“God damn it!” He swore, covering his face in his hands and inhaling sharply. The line of code he had run had failed to bring Mumbo back, the redstoner still being stuck in respawn void.

Mumbo had been quite a character in Xisuma’s last few weeks. Iskall had come first, worried about Mumbo’s health when the man could apparently sense redstone through solid blocks. A few days later Grian had swung by, babbling feverishly that Mumbo had been replaced by a robot and was up to nothing good.

Xisuma had brushed both off with a gentle smile and a ‘I’ll look into it, thanks for letting me know’.

He wasn’t able to ignore when Cleo walked through his door three days ago, claiming Mumbo smelt un-alive. This very much caught Xisuma’s attention, and he sat her down to get her to explain everything.

Only an hour later the death message had come across his screen.

< MumboJumbo was slain by NPC_Grian >

Grian whispered to Xisuma: See! Even NPC realized Mumbo was replaced! Or worse, NPC is orchestrating the entire thing. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Xisuma left a concerned Cleo, teleporting immediately to Mumbo’s spawn point, waiting anxiously for the redstoner to reappear.

He waited.

And waited.

Xisuma sent a message to Mumbo.

Waited some more.

And then realized something was very wrong, teleported to his base and started working on Mumbo’s code.

“Okay, another try. Then a break.” Xisuma muttered to himself. He had been awake for far too long, but he needed to figure out what was wrong for Mumbo not to respawn. He couldn’t have the other Hermits panicking if something was wrong with respawn.

A gentle knock at his door brought Xisuma out of his thoughts. Standing and stretching, Xisuma walked over to the door, and opened it to find NPC Grian. He immediately took a step back. Grian’s messages creeping in the back of his mind.

“NPC Grian! It’s... good to see you.” Xisuma smiled, trying to look friendly, forgetting for the most part his helmet didn’t show his mouth. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed it has, Xisuma Void.” NPC said, as emotionless as always. “May I come in?”

“Oh! Actually it’s not really a good moment,” He muttered closing the door slightly.  “There’s just a huge mess, I’ve been-“

“Trying to bring Mumbo Jumbo back from respawn?” NPC interrupted.

“... Yes, actually.” Xisuma said, a little wary.

“There's no point in forcing him back.” NPC leaned in closer and patted Xisuma’s shoulder. “He’ll come back when he wants to.”

“Sorry,” Xisuma asked, confused. “But how do you know this?”

“Because he is like me.” NPC said. “If you need him back sooner, I can go get him.”

Xisuma decided to ignore the first part of NPC’s statement and the suspicions around him. He opened the door and let the robot come in. “Would you go get him? Everyone’s worried.”

“Of course. Set Mumbo Jumbo’s spawn point here-“ NPC put down two beds, and gestured to the bed on the right. “And I will set mine here. Then, kill me.”

Xisuma took a moment to fully digest the plan.

“And then what?”

“Well, then I will talk to Mumbo Jumbo and bring him back.”

“Oh,” Xisuma said, grateful for the apparently easy solution put before him. He was exhausted and decided that NPC was his best shot at this point even if there was the chance it might be a trap or something. If NPC tried to take over the server like Ex did he could deal with that later. He had already tried fixing every line of code of Mumbo’s, and he had nothing to lose.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and I already set my respawn.” NPC said.

Xisuma nodded, and brought up Mumbo’s code again. He changed the respawn to the nearby bed, and then closed the menu, drawing out a sword.

“Are you ready?” Xisuma asked.

NPC nodded.

< NPC_Grian was slain by Xisumavoid >

--

Being dead wasn't so bad.

Well, he wasn't really dead right now. Dead in the overworld, maybe, but not dead here, even if it wasn't clear where here was.

Was it respawn void? It didn't really matter.

Strangely, Mumbo felt better and better the more he stayed there, suspended into nothing with the looming respawn button hovering not too far away from him.

It was odd, resting here. Mumbo felt as if he had taken the longest sleep. Compared to how he usually slept, it felt like he had never once truly rested in his life up until that point.

Mumbo felt rejuvenated, his mind sharp like he could go and rebuild all the machines in Sahara from the ground up in a week.

Strange how NPC was right apparently.

Just about respawn. Mumbo reminded himself.

There must be some other explanation for all the weird things going on. Regardless of all the strange things that had happened, he wasn't a machine.

Mumbo would have noticed, it's not like he was born a week ago.

The redstoner felt ready to go back to the server, even if he would have had to talk with Grian and Iskall about why they were avoiding him. Also talk with Cleo… Maybe she was just having a weird zombie flu? It’s the only reason Mumbo could come up with for why she was smelling weird stuff.

It’s okay, it was just a weird couple of weeks! It happens.

Mumbo looked at the button ready to press it. He reached out and - wait.

Didn't he use to have fingers and hands?

He would have blinked but he realized he didn't have any eyes that needed blinking. He didn't have a mouth to speak, ears to hear anything, arms or legs.

He should have been terrified, but strangely enough something very, very deep in his mind felt almost comfortable with this sudden realization.

Which, arguably, was the really terrifying part.

He was reduced to… nothing? No, he was still something. He wasn't sure what. He felt immense but not really, like he'd always been wearing something too tight and only now he could finally stretch out.

His body…

His body didn't fit what he actually was.

What was he?

He was human! Right? Right?!

This void was just messing with his head. It must be--

"Are you ready to come back yet?” A familiar monotone voice spoke.

--

Xisuma watched the beds with bated breath. A few minutes passed and panic filled his chest, quickly becoming overwhelming.

“Shit,” Xisuma said, pulling up the Admin menu again. Fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard, Xisuma didn’t even know where to begin. Should he access NPC’s code first? Try and drag him back? But it hadn’t worked on Mumbo, and NPC was not a traditional player.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to enter any code, as NPC and Mumbo respawned on the bed. NPC sat up and gave Xisuma a emotionless thumbs up while Mumbo clutched his chest and rolled to his side, coughing.

“Mumbo!” Xisuma rushed to his side, rubbing his friends back.

“He’s alright,” NPC said. “It takes a moment to adjust back into a body. I go through it too after extended time in respawn. Being a machine forced into a flesh cage is very difficult sometimes.”

“I don’t…” Xisuma said, brain blanking after that information. “Okay, I’m going to ignore that. How do you spend so much time in respawn?”

“Machines are not affected the same way humans are.” NPC said.

“Shut up!” Mumbo wheezed, and pushed Xisuma away, stumbling from the bed. “I’m not a machine! Stop saying I am!”

“But you are.” NPC said, almost sounding confused.

“Okay,” Xisuma said, reaching towards Mumbo. “Regardless if you are, are you okay?”

“Regardless?” Mumbo squeaked, voice rising in anger. “Xisuma, you can’t be siding with them! Everyone has been treating me weird and now he says I'm a machine, and I’m not!”

“Mumbo-”

“No! There’s no proof! Everyone is just imagining things!”

NPC sighed, and brought up Mumbo’s code, displaying it for everyone to see.

Name: Mumbo Jumbo

Species: Machine

Level: 1

Health: 20/20

Staus: Online

Role: Player

“Okay, so, you get very different stats than me. ” Xisuma said. “But that doesn’t matter- It’s okay, Mumbo. Not everyone on the server is human. Hell, I’m barely human myself.”

“No,” Mumbo muttered to himself. “No! It’s not right!”

"Why can't it be that you're not hum-"

"Because I bleed!" Mumbo shouted. "I bleed and I cry and I get headaches and I get sick and all these stupid things that make me human!"

He tried to rub away some tears forming in his eyes as he continued shouting. "I can't just be a machine all of the sudden! It doesn't make any sense. I can’t be!"

There was silence, and for a moment no one knew what to say. The only sound was Mumbo's erratic breathing, muffled slightly by the hands covering his face.

Then NPC stepped over and patted Mumbo on the shoulder, which felt almost mocking.

"Silly! All those things only mean your body is human. Being a machine goes a little bit deeper."

Mumbo’s hands dropped, and the man looked exhausted.

“Mumbo,” Xisuma took a step closer, and Mumbo took a step back, hitting a wall. Uncertainty and confusion flitted across his face. “Please. Mumbo, not being human doesn’t lessen your worth. We still love you.”

There was a long silence, and finally Mumbo leaned against the wall, sliding to the ground and placing his head onto his knees. Xisuma sat beside him, hesitating for only a moment before pulling Mumbo into a side hug.

“I hate this.” Mumbo muttered.

“I know.” Xisuma said.

��It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know.”

“I am human. I have a human body, NPC said so. I’m human.” Mumbo said, sounding unconvincing to even himself.

“It will be okay, Mumbo.” Xisuma said, praying that it would.

Mumbo said nothing, hoping with all his heart that tomorrow, when he woke up, it would be nothing but a feverish dream. That he had worked on redstone a little too hard for a little too long and had fallen into some strange lucid dream. Mumbo felt Xisuma rub his arm lightly, the up and down movements calming.

“It’ll be okay.” He said again.

Mumbo had no choice but to trust him.

[official-weasley]

A New Home - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: A realtor ready to be hexed by Charlie

Word count: 3,695

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Nova

“So then we finally found the hole where Fang was kept and I wanted to investigate, you know, be cautious but your mum here decided to be a Gryffindor for a day and act brave and just jumped down there. I, of course, jumped right after her and I was a bit mad at her because...”

“A bit?” I raised my eyebrow at Charlie.

“Hey, I am telling the story.” Charlie stuck out his tongue at me. “As I was saying, a bit mad at her because I wanted to go first and didn't want to see her get hurt, and then we talked in a totally normal voice that one can't consider shouting...”

“Right.” I giggled at his ridiculous story-telling.

“Love, stop interrupting me.” Charlie glared at me. “Then we heard Fang and we ran to this cave that belonged to a Red Cap and well, we saved the dog!” Charlie threw his hand in the air all proud and hero-like.

“With a few alterations and details missed that's the story, yes.” I chuckled.

I ran my fingers through Charlie's hair who was resting his head on my knees telling our Red Cap adventure story to the baby in my belly. I am five and a half months pregnant now and ever since I started to show, Charlie has been talking and telling the baby stories, looking at it as if it's the most beautiful thing in the world. Sometimes he places gentle kisses on top of my bump and tells the baby that he loves them already and that he can't wait to meet them. He has evenings when I am reading a book and he gets bored and just starts to rub my belly, singing to it.

I find the whole thing adorable and it warms my heart that he is so excited to be a dad. I know that he is a family man and that he always wished to have a family of his own but I have never imagined him to fall into the role of being a dad so quickly.

The voice he used to talk to the baby was the softest I have ever heard him speak in and his exaggerated stories from the Sanctuary were my favorite to listen to. He made himself look like a strong superhero who all the dragons listen to and if I could, I would listen to him talk all the time. Less than 4 months now and we will meet our baby and I can't wait for Charlie to tell them more incredible stories, no matter how much he changes it or how many details he leaves out.

“I have another one!” Charlie exclaimed after a few minutes of him staring at my baby bump, probably daydreaming about holding our child.

“Char!” I giggled.

“Shh, love. I'm in my story mode.” He sluggishly made his way to me and pressed a tender kiss on my lips.

“So, let me tell you the story of how your mum and dad met.” Charlie went back to resting his head on my knees.

“Didn't you tell this one already?” I teased.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not in the way I am about to tell it.”

“Of course, there are variations.” I tried sounding serious, finding his excitement amusing.

“So, by now you probably know that when mum and I were at school I was a bit obsessed with dragons...”

“Was?” I raised my eyebrows again.

“Am...” Charlie playfully rolled his eyes, correcting himself. “Of course, not as obsessed as I am with your mother and with you.” He kissed the spot right under my belly button.

“Okay, where was I? Right, I am a bit obsessed with dragons...”

“A bit?” I pressed my lips together not to start laughing.

“Love, let me tell this story,” Charlie whined.

“Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” I ruffled his hair and nodded to make him continue.

“So, I was reading this book about dragons and some Slytherins came by to say hello in a bit of a rude way and your mother, amazing as she is, didn't like the way those students were talking to me and she drew out her wand and hexed them all to the ground and the look she was giving them scared them so much that they didn't leave their dormitory for a week!” Charlie gasped dramatically.

“That is not at all what happened.” I laughed wholeheartedly.

“Of course, it did! You're brain just remembers it differently because you're modest.” He smiled gently at me and sent me a wink.

“Your mum is a hero and never let her tell you otherwise, she just doesn't like to praise herself, so that's my job!” I grinned as he said those words, his eyes on my belly.

“And you're doing great and sorry to interrupt you but we have to go.” I cupped his cheek to make him look at me.

“But I was just about to tell them about Helga, the Giant Squid!” Charlie looked disappointed.

“And we would both just love to hear that story but we don't have time. We'll be late to meet the realtor.” I explained.

“That's not in another two hours.” Charlie swung his hand.

“Char, you have been telling stories for those two hours.” I giggled.

Charlie turned around to look at the clock on the wall.

“Blimey, I got a bit carried away again, didn't I?” His cheeks turned scarlet.

“No,” I shook my head, trying to get up, “I love how into your stories you get.”

He offered me his hand to help me stand up. It was already harder for me to get up and I still had so many months to go! I made my way to the bathroom. All I do all day is read baby books, listen to Charlie tell stories, and pee. Pregnancy isn't at all what I expected but not in a bad way – in a way, it's kind of fun.

“Okay, do you have everything?” Charlie asked as I walked down the stairs.

“I have to go pee one more time.” I smiled sheepishly, returning to the bathroom. “Didn't you pee five minutes ago?”

“Don't question the bladder of a pregnant woman, Charles,” I shouted from the bathroom.

“Fair enough.” I heard him giggle, waiting patiently for me to finish.

—

“I think this one will be more to your liking.” The realtor grinned at both of us before turning around and rushing to the building.

“And I think we should change the agent,” Charlie whispered to me looking a bit annoyed.

“One more house, one more chance.” I tried staying optimistic.

Honestly, I was only doing so to stop Charlie from hexing the man who was showing us houses. There are 3 wizard villages around the 3 kilometers radius of the Sanctuary and one Muggle one. We looked at 4 houses so far – one in each – and despite describing to the realtor in advance what we have in mind for our new home, the houses he showed us were nothing that we were hoping to see.

Charlie was getting annoyed, worried about me being on my feet and apparating as much as we did and I was losing all hope that we would be able to find a nice house so close to the Sanctuary. We both don't like to apparate so we wanted a place to live where we could easily walk to the Reserve.

Due to us having quite some money spared and both having a nice salary, Charlie insisted that I stay at home the second I started showing, due to how dangerous our job is. I tried protesting for about five minutes – missing my work due to being home because of morning sickness a lot already – but he didn't want to hear it and with all the years of being together I knew better than to argue with him.

Not that I have anything to complain about. Charlie makes me breakfast every morning before going to work. I mostly read during the time he is working because mum and Penny sent me so many books and the Ravenclaw in me was jumping from excitement. By my 5th month, I was so knowledgeable about babies and giving birth that I don't think I can get more ready. After Charlie comes home we eat dinner together and then we usually cuddle on the couch and tell each other about our day. He either tells the baby stories or we play a game where we try to guess who the baby will resemble more and of course, there's always the question will they like animals and beasts — more specifically dragons.

If I'm having a rough day – where everything irritates me and no matter how I sit or lay down I get uncomfortable – Charlie either massages my feet or my shoulders and brews me mint tea.

Because I was home alone for most of the day and I have a vivid imagination and know how to draw I made some sketches of our dream home. I also researched the villages around the Reserve and tried to get as much information for the realtor for him to have an easier job finding us the right home.

I know how much it means to Charlie that we stay near the Sanctuary and since I felt bad that he was working and I was just sitting at home, I wanted to do my best to make his wish to be near dragons a reality.

What the realtor showed us so far was crushing that. One house was half demolished and we would have to put in a lot of work to get it back in order despite us telling him that we want a completely furnished cottage-like house. The other one was about the size of our home now – which was the main reason we were moving in the first place and we said specifically that we wanted there to be at least three bedrooms as we weren't planning on moving again any time soon and we wanted to have more children.

The third one was empty and Charlie was sure it was haunted and the fourth one didn't have a single piece of wood in it and only a small window in the kitchen.

“Alright, one more and then let me hex him, please.” Charlie made puppy eyes.

“Deal.” I offered him my hand, a playful expression on my face.

“We are here!” The realtor turned to us, the proudest grin on his face.

“Wow.” Charlie and I said together.

“See, I told you you will like this one.”

He unlocked the front gate and rushed to the door of the house, or should I say manor.

“He is mental!” Charlie said through his teeth.

“Calm down, Char. Let's just look around and then get rid of him.” I whispered.

The house he thought so much would be to our liking was nothing like we hoped it would be.

“It has 5 bathrooms, 7 bedrooms, two gardens, and a pool!” The man almost jumped in the air.

“Great.” I forced a smile, looking up the tall ceilings of the dark room, feeling more like in prison than at home.

“I didn't know we apparated from Romania. Is this Azkaban?” Charlie tried lightening the mood, probably when he saw the disappointed expression on my face.

“7 bedrooms, what are we supposed to do with that? It looks nothing like a home and I most definitely can't picture us raising our children here. Imagine them running around and getting lost in their own home. How are we supposed to find them? Shout all around the house? It's not intimate, it's not family-friendly and it's cold!” Charlie's eyebrows came closer together with each sentence, gripping his wand.

“It's so big, I don't even know where that man is so that I could hex him!” He continued.

“Let's just go,” I suggested.

“What?” Charlie turned to me.

“Let's just leave him here. We don't know where he is anyway and before we find him we can already be halfway home if we walk.”

“But...” Charlie tried to protest.

I knew he wanted to shout at the man and probably wasn't joking about hexing him at this point.

“Char, please. I really have to pee and my feet are killing me.” I pleaded, hoping he would let this go.

“Okay.” He sighed. “But I am only doing this for you because you have to pee and I want to massage your feet.”

“Of course.” I nodded and gently entwined our fingers to pull him toward, what I hoped, was the right door to get out of here.

“Charlie, we have to apparate,” I said as we got out of the house after what seemed like 15 minutes spent in this labyrinth.

“No, love. You apparated enough as it is. Remember what the doctor said.” He gave me a warning look.

“But I need to pee and I can't hold it until we come home,” I whined, pressing my legs together.

“Okay, okay.” Charlie pulled me in a hug and started looking around. “There has to be a pub or a restaurant around here where you could go pee.”

“There!” I pointed at a sign that had a plate and a fork on it.

“Go, go, go. Find the bathroom and I'll explain to the staff why we came.” He gently pushed me toward the building.

I tried walking as normally as possible, me having to pee so badly that it hurt while avoiding eye contact with everybody inside the restaurant as I was hoping nobody would stop me. I spotted the bathroom sign at once and rushed inside.

Just as I was ready to head back out, drying my hands in a paper towel, I looked at the mirror and my eyes caught sight of something behind me. I turned around and looked through the bathroom window.

It wasn't just a house. It was a two-story wooden house. It didn't look too big and it had a For Sale sign in front of it!

I hurried out of the bathroom and found Charlie talking to the bartender, telling them why I needed to urgently use the bathroom.

“Thank you.” I smiled at them and pulled Charlie by his sleeve.

“Where's the rush, love? This place looks nice. Let me treat you to lunch. We haven't been on a date for a month.” Charlie bestowed me with one of those smiles that usually weakened my knees but I was so excited now that I couldn't let his charms work on me.

“Maybe later. I have to show you something.” I jumped a little, excitement in my voice.

“What?” Charlie got curious.

“Come with me.”

We exited the restaurant and started up the path to the hill where the house stood.

“Look!” I pointed at it as I finished explaining how I know about it in the first place.

“That looks promising.” Charlie gasped.

We knocked on the door but nobody answered. With one look at each other, we knew we have to see how it is inside. I don't know if it was the excitement in my chest or did I have a good feeling about this.

We knocked again and then tried the door. It was open.

“Just a quick peek and if we like it we go to the agency tomorrow,” Charlie said and I nodded.

It was perfect. It had big windows that let a lot of light in. It was completely furnished with modern yet minimalistic furniture. It had two bathrooms, a master bedroom, and three other rooms – just like we wanted. The kitchen with a big dining table. The living room was spacious with a very cozy sofa and a fireplace – something Charlie was hoping for because it reminds him of the Burrow. The walls were wooden but well isolated and there was even a small guest room on the lower floor.

I watched Charlie walk down the stairs as he finished looking at the upper floor and I couldn't help myself imagining him walking down those stairs every single day. I was ready to tell him that when I felt a weird tickling sensation on the inside of my belly. I narrowed my eyes, not really familiar with the feeling, when it happened again.

Before Charlie could ask me why I was making a weird face, my eyes widened as I realized what just happened.

“Oh, Merlin! Char, come here!” I motioned with my hand.

“What? What is going on? Is everything okay?” His eyes went from mine to my hands on my belly.

“I...I think the baby just kicked!” I exclaimed, moving my hands around to feel anything.

“No way!” Charlie gasped and kneeled before me.

“Yes, twice!”

Charlie didn't know what to do, he was shaking from excitement, looking at my belly as if the baby was about to wave at him.

“It happened again!” I was pretty sure that at this point, my eyes were sparkling.

“Can you feel it?” Charlie asked, hope in his voice.

“Put your hands on it. Maybe you can sense it.” I gestured for him to lift his arms and positioned his hands on my belly the second he did.

“There it was! Did you catch it?” I looked down at Charlie who was staring at my baby bump with his mouth slightly open.

“Char?” I tilted my head, rubbing circles on the back of his hands.

“I...”

“Did you feel it?” I lifted his chin gently so that our eyes met.

The second they did I knew he felt the baby kick because he was on the verge of tears.

“Nova, I felt it. I felt the baby kick!” He stood up so abruptly that I thought he was going to make us both stumble and he squeezed me in the tightest embrace, rocking us back and forth.

“This is a sign.” He whispered in my ear. “The baby likes the house, we have to go to the agency.”

“You want to live here, sweetheart?” I looked down at my belly as Charlie let me go and I felt another kick.

I didn't know if the kick was coincidental or if the baby could understand me, but I didn't care. I looked around one more time and I knew this was it. This was exactly what we were looking for.

“Who are you?”

We both jumped in the air, startled by the voice.

“We...we saw the sale sign and we...we wanted to look around. We...we didn't know anyone lived here.” Charlie stuttered, his cheeks bright red.

“There isn't anyone living here and the house is for sale. I'm the realtor.” The woman carefully took another step forward, offering Charlie her hand.

“Is it still available?” I couldn't hide the hope in my voice.

“It is.” The woman grinned when she saw how excited we were.

She showed us around and told us that the owner who built the house figured that the still life wasn't for him and decided to travel the world instead. She took us to see the garden which was perfect for children to play in. We felt as if we just got the best birthday surprise and without speaking I knew that Charlie already felt at home as much as I did.

However, our smiles were wiped off our faces the second the woman told us the price.

“That is a little bit out of our budget,” Charlie said to me when the realtor left us to discuss her offer.

“A little bit?” I sighed, disappointed.

“We can manage.” Charlie put his hands on my shoulders, making me look at him.

“Char, that's all our savings, and I won't make any money when I'm home with the baby, we can't be that reckless.” I shook my head.

Even though I was in love with the house, I knew we had to think reasonably.

“I'll work extra hours then.” Charlie offered.

“Char, we have to think with our heads here.” I pressed my lips together, to stop my jaw from trembling.

I couldn't stop myself from being so emotional. Of course, it was too good to be true. The house was exactly as we pictured it. I knew it was farfetched that we would get our dream home.

Charlie's brows furrowed when he saw the expression on my face, me obviously failing at hiding my emotions.

“Stay here.” He kissed my forehead and went outside.

I turned around to look at it one more time, to say goodbye to the house we could almost afford. I sighed and turned around to go outside. I stopped, however, when Charlie walked back in with the biggest grin on his face.

“Welcome home, love.” He cupped my face and kissed me hard on the mouth.

“Charles, what did you do?” I wanted to be angry with him so badly.

This was supposed to be a mutual decision and he wasn't thinking clearly, already being in love with this house. But at the same time, I couldn't blame him.

“I played the baby card.” He winked at me, looking proud of himself.

“What?”

“I told her that we can't afford it and asked if there is any way to lower the price a little bit. She asked me why we wanted the house so badly and I told her that we looked at so many today but that the baby kicked for the first time right in the living room and the woman melted when she saw me tear up, lowering the price to our budget!” Charlie jumped in his spot.

“No way!” I breathed. “Saying that I am pregnant, really does wonders!”

“I know!” Charlie lifted me and twirled me around.

“So, this is really our new home?” I asked one more time, the biggest smile on my face, my eyes glistening with tears.

“It's our home.” He kissed me on the nose and then leaned down to press his lips on my belly as well.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He said with a shaky voice and rubbed my belly.

[johannesviii]

This is a long post about Shaman King I started to write ages ago and I don’t have a good title for it

Let me tell you about Shaman King for a few minutes, okay. Because the new anime adaptation is coming in like 3 months and I’m still not ready for it. Also I started to write this post 5 years ago just because I re-read the whole thing at the time and it’s been in my drafts since then. Oops

But yeah Shaman King was the very first fandom I got into when I first had a real internet access, around 2003-2004. I was around fifteen. The manga was still going. And in retrospect, it was full of problems. Among other things:

Not enough female characters & questionable choices for most of the ones who actually have a part to play in the plot

A black character drawn with big lips (see above), and I REALLY HOPE this is gonna get fixed in the new anime ; I mean even the author stopped drawing him like that a few years ago when he did the “remix tracks” extra chapters so come on please

An imaginary native american tribe who, while pretty cool, is still imagined by a Japanese dude in 1999 soooo yeah there’s some rough corners here and there (edit: got some anon hate about that but I'm sorry, "ancient aliens" tropes always make me uncomfortable)

An art quality which gets worse and worse over time due to deadline pressures and an increasingly exhausted author

Was stopped before it could reach its natural conclusion (the author drew an actual ending years later and tbh it’s great so I’m putting this very low on the list)

So yeah. Manga from 1999. Problematic. Aged badly. It happens.

BUT.

In retrospect, most of it is such a kick in the metaphorical butt of shonen manga as a whole I can’t believe it was competing against Naruto and One Piece at some point?? Like

It’s a shonen so it plays the "dramatic and sudden power jump” game, but it uses it to reach a surprising conclusion (in the “new” ending I mean)

Most of the characters are “shamans” which means they can see ghosts and spirits, and they use them to fight, to work, or to help other people. This is a manga in which you’re gonna see a Russian shaman channeling a Vodyanoy spirit into a drum to create a torrential flood. You don’t see that in every manga

It’s stated right away that no shaman can be truely, irredeemably bad, because only good-natured people can see ghosts and spirits.

So, no matter how bad a villain may be, they must have had a good nature once even if they look like a complete bastard at the moment.

How far is the author willing to go with that concept? Pretty far

Even without talking about the main villain and how the story ends because, duh, spoilers... Like

My favorite character, who gets a full redemption arc later, cuts someone open in his first chapter

He’s one of the good guys 10 volumes later

Speaking of which the amount of gore in this manga has to be seen to be believed, Jump would never let this happen nowadays

If you’re wondering why this is in the “positive” (......?) list it’s because I was 14/15 and all kids that age crave blood and angst

The main character, Yoh, pictured above, is very laid-back, and I mean very. He listens to the in-world equivalent of Bob Marley and constantly wears big headphones. Also he wears sandals, and sometimes there’s a weed leaf drawn on his t-shirt

His parents arranged a mariage between him and a girl shaman even though they’re still teenagers, so this would have potential for High Drama - but surprisingly enough it turns out they like each other and after that he just goes around saying “this is my future wife” and she’s like “hello if you touch him I’m going to end you”

It sounds weird and it......... is, tbh, but it’s also refreshing among all the “ugh, girls, yuck” tropes that nearly all shonen mangas used to have at the time

Yoh’s main goal in life is to live with minimal effort

When his grandfather tells him he must train to participate in a shaman tournament which happens every 500 years, because the winner gets a wish granted by the Great Spirit, he decides his wish will be to make everybody’s life easy so that nobody will ever be forced to work or do shit they don’t want to do to survive anymore

Yoh Asakura is a Millenial icon don’t @ me

Speaking of which

Almost everyone in this series is broke as f█ck

Yoh owns a big house but that’s only because the price was ridiculously low since it’s the most haunted place in Tokyo and nobody else wants to live there. The house is constantly full of other characters (including enemies) who have literally nowhere else to go

The only important character who isn’t broke has money because his family is super rich but he hates all of them because they’re all bastards so it’s super awkward

Another character bought a really cool motorbike but he’s going to be in debt for the next 40 years

Also he’s a hobo

And also bi

What I’m trying to say is: relatable

Also the tournament is held by an imaginary Native American tribe. They’re also broke. All of them. The two judges who are in charge of the main characters live in a cramped appartment and often try to sell souvenirs in the street to pay the rent

I know that’s hashtag problematic but I still love them I can’t help it

Just like in most shonen mangas the hero seems to amass a big collection of Friends but since everyone is a weirdo in a way or another and comes from all over the world it looks even funnier

At some point during the tournament, the main characters have to form small groups of three in order to participate to the next part. Yoh’s team is one of the strongest teams among the ones we’ve met at this point, and is composed of 1) Yoh, a laid-back sleepy kid wearing toilet sandals 2) the aforementioned bi hobo who’s sad because his current crush is in a rival team, and 3) a thirty-something tatooed guy with no legs and an IV drip and who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1997

Oh and they all wear adds for a bath house

Because remember: everyone’s f█cking broke

Spoilers for the mid-point of the manga but I need to talk about it because it encapsulates everything I used to love in it

You’ve been warned

So

At some point the main character, Yoh, is asked to choose between staying in the tournament or resurrect his rival

This is framed as some kind of very heavy, very huge dilemma. Like oh no what will he do. Will he give up his dreams and hopes. Will You Push The Button(tm)

So the choice is presented to him

In a very dramatic way

And he immediately goes “there’s a way to save him?? YES PLEASE”

He doesn’t hesitate a single second and drops the tournament in a heartbeat to save the guy

This scene greatly contributed to make me a better person I’m not even joking at all

I love Yoh

So anyway I don’t have a proper conclusion for this

Shaman King is very flawed and its flaws need to be acknowledged to fully appreciate all the good things in it, and the “old” fandom from more than 15 years ago was a very good formative experience for me because the forum I was on (which was nuked from the face of the internet by a hacker “looking for training grounds” (his words not mine, he posted it on our frontpage a full week before he did it) in 2005, rip) was full of people who were really into criticising every little aspect of the manga but still loved it dearly

And I think that’s a healthy way to enjoy things and I think we should bring this back

Anyway

Shaman King extremely flawed but full of good things

I still can’t believe it’s back

Johannes out

[darkenedreaper]

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part: 5/5

A/n: I’d like to state that I made up a few lines of poetry and I’m proud of myself.

For the time you had been taken it seemed like your body had been put under severe treatment. At this point you could’ve been gone for months. You recognised the big symbol that was painted onto the wall. Hydra. They had been testing on you, testing on the Avenger. Every day you’d go through a new pain until they found the right one. From what you could catch they were planning on using you as their next super soldier. They had obviously saw the News and what had happened and who did it to you, so they took their chance and succeeded. You were laying back onto the white bed, your arc reactor now had a new red vibranium lining on the outside of it and your new suit which stood beside you, was black, with the logo on the back. You felt stronger, stronger than you would after training, stronger than you would after once pinning Steve on his back. Steve. Steve Rogers, your enemy according to Hydra. And ‘let’s not forget’ they said ‘what that Russian Widow did you to you’. They now began another experiment on you, testing a new serum.

Back at the compound and above the ground. It had been 10 months, 3 weeks, 2 days 6 hours that you had been missing for. To say they were all ashamed would be an understatement.

Steve wanted to get away from his shield, he couldn’t look at it let alone touch it. On his wardrobe floor where he had placed it 10 months ago, it had pieces of the glass from your arc reactor surrounding it. From the impact, some of the glass had melted to his shield. He didn’t want to be reminded of it, but his tears for you couldn’t help but.

Tony nearly drunk his whole cabinet if it wasn’t for Bruce dragging him back to the lab. And then went Tony was alone, the man would cry.

Bruce didn’t want to focus on the thought of you being tortured, which you were or experimented on, which you were. But he did focus on doing everything to find your arc on the map somewhere.

Thor went back to Asgard and he didn’t want back to Asgard and he spat in everyone’s face that he didn’t want to talk to them unless the found you. His mother back at home was increasing getting worried of your absence.

Clint was home aswell to his wife and kids. Laura distanced herself from him whilst he was back there as she thought of you as family. The kids just drew drawings and tried to make their Daddy and Mommy feel better.

Wanda and Vision tried to buck up the team, but they were falling apart themselves and if they didn’t have each other, they’d be lost.

Bucky spent time on his own, he would stay in your room and sit in your chair, hoping you’d walk in the door and do his hair. He felt his arm was tainted but there was nothing he could do about that, so he tried his best to find you with Steve.

Natasha. She wallowed. She was dying inside. She wondered if the heartbreak she was going through was what you felt all those months, creeping around hiding from the team. If it was what you felt when she watched the shield drive into your heart. She didn’t dare go in your room. She couldn’t. She couldn’t look at herself.

She worked night and day trying to track you down, on every mission, in every country, yet all were failures.

They barely spoke to each other now. You affected them massively and they wanted their Y/N back. Whether you hated them or tried to kill them, they’d be so joyful that you were back.

Right now you felt best coursing through your veins and the machine that was attached around your head was slowly vanishing away your memories. You could feel all your knowledge slipping away from you. Your weaknesses being taken over from the amount of power your body had. You yelled out in pain as they would boost it up, clear it was working. A huge flash of light took over the large base and you were listening for your first command. You saw your Commander walk up to your face and he saw the change in your eyes. He snapped his fingers towards the leather straps that had metal chains wrapped over them. And you broke free from them. You hadn’t gotten taller perhaps a few inches, but your muscles were evident as your suit was placed onto you.

You were supplied with 4 guns and 3 knives. Your arc reactor had layers of protective and bulletproof glass coated over it. Now you were unbreakable. You didn’t have a name. You didn’t remember. You don’t remember your friends or if you had any, or any family. All you were focused on was your mission, the Avengers. And your main targets were ‘Captain America’ and ‘Black Widow’.

When you had been brainwashed they had managed to rid of everything except the torture the Avengers put you through. The heartbreak and physical damage. You were given your own jet and a black helmet with a red H on the front and you went off to the compound in search of one of your targets. And it wouldn’t take you long to get there.

Night had fallen at the Avengers compound and they were all in the sitting room. Silently watching a movie that no one was paying attention to. Jarvis seemed upset as he wouldn’t talk to anyone anymore, unless that was because she hadn’t been looked after for months. Friday nearly disabled herself because she was so mad at her boss. If she were a human she’d be looking for you non stop as you often had conversations with the AI.

They had all dragged each other for ‘bonding time’. They were so down and ashamed that no one heard heavy footsteps. Until Bucky picked up on the reflection and he sat up a smile on his face as it could be you.

And around the corner you came, every Avenger jumping up from their seats. No one noticed the Hydra suit because they were so focused on your breathing body. Until Natashas gaze landed on your eyes. She saw it wasn’t you, well it was. But right now you were a Hydra agent trying to kill the Avengers.

“Y/N!” Tony shouted with a big grin on his face. You pulled dour your gun and shot above his head and you would’ve gotten him if it wasn’t for Bucky pulling him away as they all scattered off in all directions. Right now you were behind a man known as Hulk. You were shooting everywhere at everyone who crossed your path or came into view. You were putting multiple holes in walls at once and you put your gun back and instead ran towards the coward and grabbed him t shirt nearly picking him up off the ground. You got out a knife from your thigh pocket and nearly jabbed it into him if it wasn’t for that voice that came from behind you and him.

“Y/N.”

You recognised the voice as Black Widow and she was a main target so you flung the other man into a wall, crashing him into the next room. You ran after her and you were nearly faster than her if it wasn’t for her jumping up into a vent. So you took a gun and starting shooting holes in the vents, hearing scurries of fear through the vents. Your super soldier hearing picked up on a whisper that came from East.

It was Tony and Wanda. They thought they were hidden as Tony was crawling towards the table with his iron fist on.

With one quick shot you blew it up. Wanda tried getting into your head but she couldn’t even get past the thick line of Hydra.

“Come on Y/N I made that! It’s Tin-Man you know me!”

He kept calling out a name you didn’t know and as he hit the wall you took a look at his arc reactor and looked at yours. You saw his hand pout from his to yours.

“The same. You see. It’s Tony.”

You put your hand around his throat and lifted him up, his head hitting the ceiling, and you started punching at his bright light. Groans, pleads and yells at you to stop game from his mouth but you soon threw him to the side aswell, discarding of him while he collapsed onto the floor. Watching you walk away, walking on the glass that had fallen from his reactor.

You went in search for the girl who was trying to break into your head and instead you ran into the man with the metal arm known as the Winter Solider. He was trying to call out your name trying to talk to you but you shut him up by grabbing him arm and jamming a piece of glass into his weak spot where the arm connected to the body. Footsteps were approaching and it was the girl again. You took a knife and held it in the air to jam into ‘Buckys’ throat but your knife was thrown across the room with some sort of red magic around it. You threw the limp body of the other super soldier towards the girl and she was too slow to react as he came crashing down into her.

The compound was a mess, glass everywhere, holes everywhere, a little spark came from a wire where your bullet had hit it.

Vision had also been seen to. He just approached you and you didn’t even acknowledge him so you just drove the bottom of your gun into his temple sending him down, and kicking him out of your way.

You would finish the targets of after you’d found your other two. You went towards the hangar where their jets were stored to see no one around.

Meanwhile, Steve was on his way down to you. His shield in his hands, not strapped onto him arm.

You knew who was behind you and pointed your gun to the troubled and saddened man who stopped in his tracks.

“Y/N. I know your in there.”

You walked up to him and smashed the gun into his face, making him fall onto his side, shield still in his hands. He got up.

“You’re not a Hydra agent. Your Y/N. Our family.”

With a grunt you hit his stomach with your fist, sending him flying backwards. He got up.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

And now you sent your boot into his chest and made him fall on his back. This time he struggled to get up.

You had punched and kicked him so far bad that you near the edge of the runway, splashed of the water hundreds of feet beneath you. He got up.

“I’m not gonna fight you.”

He tossed his shield away from him, trying to bring you back. His face was bleeding, his back was in agony and his suit was torn because of how far and harsh he skidded backwards.

“Your my friend.”

It was an odd feeling, one you hadn’t felt for months. Did you know him? Steve? No. He was your target right? And you went with your head. As soon as he saw movement from your feet dashing towards him, he didn’t move. If you were to kill him he wouldn’t envy you, he would’ve said he deserves it. His head didn’t hit the ground and he was now on the edge of the cliff with you above him, one fist balled into his suit and the other clenched.

“Your my mission.”

The first time he heard you speak in months and it was this.

After the first punch his eye had already began to close over. The second punch, his facial skin was torn. The third punch, both nostrils began to bleed. “Your.” The fourth punch his lip cut. “My.” The fifth punch, his lip bled out. “Mission!” The sixth punch sent his head lolling around.

You had to stop to consider if what you were doing was right. You knew this man. You knew them all.

“Then finish it.” His voice broke.

“Cause I’ll go with whatever your ordered.”

He even nodded confirming that it was okay for you to kill him.

He was talking about him being your target to kill. You were ready. You were so ready to throw him off the edge of it wasn’t for that voice.

Calling out a name. You turned your head and got up. The red head was standing. Arms crossed. She had fear and tears in her eyes. As soon as you stood quickly her arms unfolded like lightening.

She took a step back as you slowly approached her, getting a knife from your pocket.

“Y/N, this isn’t you. You need to listen to me. Y/N please.”

Your anger had slowly started to build again inside you.

“Stop saying that goddamn name it’s fucking pissing me off.”

Her mouth was bobbing open and closed. She wanted to sob at seeing how you were. She wanted to see those E/C eyes staring back at her instead of the blank ones that had one thing in mind.

“Do you not know me?” She was starting to walk back into the weapons room but she had no intention of doing any harm to you. And if you wanted to beat her and kill her then so be it. She’d let you. Your fist that was empty was slowly beginning to ball up but you couldn’t hit her and why? You didn’t know.

“моя любовь, пожалуйста, послушай меня.”

The Russian sentence of ‘my love please listen to me’.

It caused you to snap and you swung at her face, causing her to groan and stumble backwards.

“Do not tell me to listen to you. I’m not your fucking love.”

She wanted to cup her face as she felt the bruise appearing but that would be selfish after everything you’ve been through.

“Ты понимаешь русский мой дорогой”

‘Do you understand Russian my dear?’

You were never taught Russian at your Hydra base so why could you understand it. You took heavy breathes and you had a confused look on your face because your lip trembled and anger was painted onto your face again. You threw your fist at her again causing her head to snap backwards and blood tricked down her lip.

She was exhausted. The sleepless nights without you, the guilt drowning her. You ran towards her and she put her arms up to defend herself but you were quick to pull them down and you landed kicks to her side and plenty of hard punches to her ribs. By the time she had cornered herself she was sure a rib or two were broken. Her forehead was gashed and bleeding. Her sides hurt like hell and her neck was strained and had knots in the muscles because of how many times her head had flung back from the strength of your fists. You were still standing strong and unharmed and that was when you retrieved your knife again.

“Моя любовь, когда ты вернешься дома, только тогда я буду дышать, моя дорогая, когда ты узнаешь мое имя, только тогда я буду улыбаться. Когда ты вернешься ко мне, только тогда мое сердце поправится.” ‘My love, when you get home, only then will I breathe. My darling, when you know my name, only then will I smile. When you return to me, only then will my heart recover.’

You were lost in thought and you could hear voices just like hers whispering that into your ear late at night or when you had gotten back from a tough mission. You heard other voices. Buck? T? Banner? Wands? Vis? Stevie?

“Natasha?”

She had tears freely falling and she noticed your tight grip on your knife still. She nodded and she slowly approached you limping but smiling to herself as you didn’t tense or move backwards.

“But you hurt me.”

She nodded again as she was in front of you now, subtly slipping the knife from your hand. She took of your helmet and placed it on the floor alongside the knife. She could see it in your eyes. The good and bad memories coming back to you. But she could see hesitance.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sorry but please stop this. This isn’t you Y/N, it never has been and never will be.”

You took in her words and started to accept her, not yet forgiving her and the team for what they had done to you. She knew you were still going to be a super soldier and she knows her and the teams’ actions were always going to haunt you. She placed her hand on your arc reactor and it felt like home. All she could do was hope. Hope that you still had forgiveness in your heart. Time would need to be taken for you to heal. For the hydra walls to break down. But she would be there for you. She’d do whatever it would take for you to forgive her, for her to get you back.

They all would.

(My gif use as you want)

@natasha-danvers @imnotasuperhero @aaron-despair @confusinggemini612 @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz @fcbarcelona-and-marvel-4-life @gaytrashgoblin @capmarvelq @nat-romanoffdanvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @emilyprentisswife @captain-josslett @fayhar @oblivious-horny-lesbian @trikruismybitch @summergeezburr @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me Chapter 5: The Game

Sorry this chapter is a bit short, I am in the midst of finals and final projects. Thank you for sticking by my side, despite the crazy schedule 

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Masterlist

Warnings: Stalking, Swearing, Violence

Spencer made his way to the counter, a smiling Ava greeted him. 

“Spencer! I’m surprised you’re not with (Y/N), not that I’m not happy to see you of course.” 

Spencer returned her smile with a slightly nervous one, “She’s still in bed, I thought I would bring her some coffee before I head to the office. I also wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Oh Spencer, if you’re confessing your undying devotion to me now, I’m afraid it’s a bit too late, I have my own sexy superhero boyfriend now.” Ava said, doing her signature eyebrow waggle, causing Spencer to laugh. 

“I do have a confession, but it involves (Y/N).” Spencer said, a smile spreading across his face.

Her expression became more serious. “Wait is (Y/N) pregnant?” 

“I- no, that’s not what-” Spencer stuttered, Ava let out a giggle out Spencer’s flustered face. 

“I want to ask her to move in with me.” Spencer said finally. 

“Oh my gosh Spencer, that’s fantastic! And I’m honored that you’re asking me, as (Y/N) was mine first, so it’s only right you ask me permission.” Ava grinned, pressing a hand to her heart. 

“Do you think she’ll say yes? I don’t want to rush her, I know we’ve been only dating for 8 months, but it just feels right. I love her so much and I want to wake up to her every morning and kiss her goodnight every night. Besides it will be so much easier because she basically lives at my apartment now and I just want to make it official, you know?” Spencer rambled. 

Ava’s face radiated pure joy. “Oh Spence, she’ll definitely say yes! God (Y/N) will be over the moon are you kidding? You two are the cutest fucking thing, oh my god this is so exciting!” She squealed. 

“I’m going to ask her when she gets back from Florida, I know her lease is almost up so that will make things a lot easier too. I’ve been looking at different apartments that are slightly bigger because I know she wants an at home office and I’m sure it will be nice to have her own space-”

“Spencer, I am so glad she has you. You make her so happy and treat her so well. I know she’ll be happy with whatever. But beware, her full interior designer will come out if you guys get your own place.” Ava warned teasingly. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” Spencer grinned. 

________________________________________________________________

His hand shook as he opened the door to his apartment. As he slammed the door shut, he met the worried face of his roommate, who was putting on his jacket to leave.

“You okay man?” His roommate Nick asked, eyes filled with concern. 

“Don’t worry about it dude.” The Boy said with an angry shrug making his way to his room. 

“Uh, okay dude, if you need anything shoot me a text. I’m meeting up with Ava, I’ll probably stay at her place for a couple days.” 

“Cool bro, have fun.” The boy said flatly. 

Nick looked like he was about to say something, but he shut his mouth and shrugged.

“Later.” Nick said quietly, grabbing his bag and fleeing out the door. 

The Boy didn’t respond. He just stomped into his room, red filling his vision. 

The Doctor was going to take you away from him permanently, he could feel it. 

Moving in leads to marriage, then kids. How could he have let it get this far? The Boy should have intervened earlier, opened your eyes to the truth. 

The Boy let out a scream and punched a whole in the wall. It felt good to let his anger out. He pictured the Doctor in place of the wall, the image brought of that man bloodied and pleading sent pleasurable shivers through him. The Boy made his way to his bed and pulled out a box from underneath it. It was an obvious spot to keep it underneath there, but Nick respected his space, so the boy had not been worried. 

He pulled out his pictures of you. Each image lovingly taken of you, images of you getting ready for work, smiling with Ava, and then his favorites, the ones of you sleeping peacefully in your bed. He had to resist reaching out and caressing your face. He knew he couldn’t risk waking you up, it wasn’t time for you to see him yet, but now it was. 

The boy had started to calm down, until an image of you kissing Spencer fell out of the pile. Red filled his vision once again. He had purposely taken this picture to remind himself of his goal; being in the Doctor’s place. 

He ripped the image to shreds, and threw the box of goods causing your pictures, some of your old coffee cups and Drew’s home videos to fly all over his room. His rage filled him as he flipped his desk. He couldn’t stop himself as he ripped his rooms to shreds, breaking things and tossing various items at the wall in rage. 

When his breathing finally returned to normal, the boy grabbed a bag and began packing. He threw in all of his essentials and grabbed the tapes and photos he could of you. He wasn’t coming back here after this. You and him were going to start a new life in Florida, he had already set everything up. He had his own secluded place and sent ahead some of the things he needed ahead. 

He would leave tonight and be down in Florida a day before you. He had planned to arrive a day ahead of you so he could get your home ready. He had even made a little room for you to adjust to everything, knowing how this big of a change would affect you. But he knew you would do it once you realized that you two were meant to be. 

Joy filled the boy as he looked around his mess of a room, he felt relief at the thought of never seeing this place or the Doctor again. Yet in his happy stupor, he failed to see the photos and tape he had missed to pick up.

________________________________________________________________

Present Day

Reid had reached speeds of nearly 110 as he raced back to the precinct with Emily. SHe had not chastised him for his speeds, too worried about the sorrow in Penelope’s voice and what that could mean. 

They raced into the precinct and found Penelope, JJ, and Morgan in the meeting room. 

“Hotch and Rossi are still talking to Curtis, but they should be back in 30.” Morgan explained. 

“There is no time to wait.” Penelope growled. “I can show this to them once they get here.”

“Any luck at Special Delivery?” Emily asked JJ. 

“It shut down 5 weeks ago apparently. So whoever we saw, still had access to a uniform. They probably did it to copy Curtis.” JJ explained, her face solemn. 

“Shit.” Emily said, flopping down into a chair.”

“I received this ten minutes ago.” Penelope explained, drawing everyone’s attention to the screen at the front of the room. “Reid, you aren’t going to like this, I’m so sorry.”

Spencer’s blood ran cold as he prepared himself for the worst. 

The screen was black for a few seconds and then an automated voice rang out from the speakers. “Ring! Ring!”  the deep voice said. “Have you figured it out, Dr. Reid?” 

Spencer’s heart stopped as images of you flooded the screen. Photos of you and Spencer flashed across the screen. None of which either of you had taken yourselves, each of these was taken from afar. He felt ill when he saw the ones from outside of your apartment. He nearly vomited when the screen switched to photos of you inside your apartment, peacefully sleeping, completely unaware that a completely crazed man was inches away from you. 

“I’ve been to your lectures, Dr. Reid.” A voice narrated from the screen. “I know you’ve studied men like me. It’s very fascinating to hear someone talk about you like they’ve known you since birth, when the two of you haven’t even met once. You took one of my dearest friends away from me. But we adapted, your small victory didn’t stop him from guiding me to my love and taking her from you. Do you think with all your knowledge, all of your cases, all of your team, that you can find her in time?” 

A timer appeared on the screen, counting down from a minute. 

“What?” Penelope cried out, “That wasn’t there before, how in the hell is it there?” She rushed to her computer and began messing around on the keyboard. 

Spencer shot out of his chair and raced over to Penelope’s side. “Penelope, what does this countdown mean?” He asked, panicked.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! It didn’t appear before this. The email didn’t even mention a countdown! I tried to track the email, but it was a throwaway.” Penelope looked ready to cry. 

“Spencer, it could mean anything.” Morgan said, trying to calm him down.

“Oh yeah Morgan?” Spencer spat. “Well considering it was showing images of my girlfriend before it, my hopes aren’t too high!”

“Spencer.” JJ snapped, “Yelling isn’t going to solve anything.”

“What if it was Will JJ? Would you be calm?” Spencer growled back at her. 

The timer was quickly reaching its end. 

“Penelope do something, please.” Spencer begged, his voice breaking.

“I’m trying, I don’t know what to do.” Penelope cried out, horrified at her helplessness. 

Tears began to flow down Spencer’s face. The room watched in horrified silence as the timer reached zero. 

It was silent for a moment and then Spencer’s phone rang.

He looked down at it to see it was an unknown number. His heart stopped as he realized “Ring! Ring!”

“(Y/N) promised to call me after her meeting, if she had been there, she would have called me now.”  Spencer said quietly. 

“Spencer, if you answer it, I can try and track the number and centralize the area it could be coming from.” Penelope explained urgently. 

Spencer took a deep breath and answered the phone. They all jumped up in shock as a video feed came on at the same time he pressed answer. 

His heart swelled with relief, you were alive, you seemed unharmed, but god you looked terrified. 

“Penelope, scan the room, see if you can find any recognizable items.” Morgan mumbled quietly.  

As Penelope’s keys began clacking a way, a voice that sounded eerily like the one in the video of you smugly said, “Hello Doctor, so nice to finally talk to you. Or have we talked before? You never know, let’s see if that big brain of yours remembers.” 

“Who are you?” Spencer hissed into the phone.

“Someone who you’ve taken so much from. My mentor, the woman I love- but luckily this ends now.” The voice purred.

“What do you want?” Spencer tried to keep his voice calm. 

“I want to play a game with you Doctor, let’s see if that genius brain of yours is as good as they say. You have 24 hours to find your girl. If you are so smart you’ll be able to find her. But when you don’t, and you won’t, it will prove that you don’t don’t deserve her. That you never deserved her. If you can’t find her in time, you will never see her again.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn  @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz​ @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi​ @iifloweringnightsii @mggsprettygirl​ @bravegirl221​ @messyhairday-me​ @n1ghtsh4d3-67​ @abbeypaw7​ @findmedontlooseme @hiiwouldlikesomesleepplease @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @ajeff855 @astronomynous

[mostlycompetentwriter]

FAM

F/M Pairing: Fem!Reader x Lee Minho (SKZ)

Word Count: 2.4K

Genre: Hybrid AU; Strangers to Lovers AU

Warnings: None!!

Summary: You weren’t entirely sure about adopting a hybrid, but your friends insisted that you have someone to keep you company in the giant apartment where you lived alone. But you never imagined how much you were missing out on, until you also fell in love...

A/N: I’m trying my hand at writing hybrid AUs, so please forgive me if it isn’t up to expectation! Tagging @skzwriternet​ as usual!!

The adoption center was located in a giant brick building at the center of the downtown district where traffic was always heavy, and swarms of people migrated together to walk down the crowded sidewalks as a means of occupying their time on the weekends.

But you were hardly the type to enjoy such things, and you and your friends often spent time in each other’s apartments as opposed to dealing with the claustrophobia of the 5:00 rush hour. But on this afternoon in particular, you carefully navigated the intersections and bustling extensions to find a parking spot in the freshly paved lot of the adoption center. Because you were finally going to meet the cat hybrid that you had recently adopted after a lot of pressure from your friends and several hours scrolling through the online website.

Eventually, after an interesting internal-debate, your eyes were drawn to a hybrid cat with calico-colored ears, and the bright green of his eyes had captured your heart in an instant. From there, you didn’t need any more intervention to call the shelter and arrange a time to meet them at the center to pick-up your new friend. Even though you didn’t know much about taking care of a hybrid, you had spent the past week reading anything that you could get your hands on.

You were feeling both confident and excited when you offered your name to the receptionist upon your arrival, and she offered to bring Minho out to you. “He’s been here for so long,” she explained. “His last owners brought him in before they moved.”

“They gave him up?” you asked, appalled at the idea.

However, the receptionist merely shrugged, and you had a feeling that this sort of thing happened all the time. “Well, let me get everything arranged for you,” the receptionist said, and you lingered around the lobby while you waited, flexing your fingers because you had already signed so much paperwork.

But it was all worth it when you saw him for the first time, looking at you with the same green eyes that had first captivated your attention. “Y/N,” the receptionist said. “This is Minho.”

You shuffled in place, pasting on your best smile as you studied the hybrid. “Nice to meet you, Minho,” you said. “I hope we can get along well.”

“Yeah,” Minho replied, and you were a little caught off-guard by his nonchalant attitude, but the receptionist was positively beaming and you finished signing all the required forms before you brought Minho outside to your parked SUV.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” you said to make conversation on the drive home. So far, even with your introverted tendencies taken into consideration, you were having a hard time maintaining a conversation with him. “I redesigned the guest room for you.”

“That’s fine,” Minho said, and you took a deep breath because you weren’t expecting him to be so dismissive. But maybe he wasn’t the type who talked very much after just meting someone for the first time, and you could understand the value of your silence. Still, you only wished that it didn’t feel so awkward, returning to your apartment only to watch Minho barricade himself inside his room for the rest of the night.

From thenceforth, life with Minho...was the opposite of what you expected.

Instead of living together cohesively, and enjoying the company of someone else in the apartment, you found yourself seriously questioning whether or not you had made the right decision in adopting him. For starters, he never left his room, and you only ever saw him on rare occasions when he needed to use the bathroom, or to grab his dinner from the table. Which leads you directly to your next point: other than rushed greetings in passing, Minho never spoke to you.

And that was certainly not something that you were okay with, especially considering the fact that it felt like you were living with a total stranger. But when you brought it up to your friends and colleagues, they assured you that he just needed more time to adjust: “Maybe buy him something that Cat Hybrids really enjoy?”

So, you did, and the price of the rare treats was a major blow to your checking account, but you were desperate to get a reaction from him. And you were incredibly disappointed when he ignored the treats on the table, choosing instead to pretend like they didn’t even exist. However, that’s where you drew the line, deciding to confront Minho about your scarce interactions.

But when you stepped into his bedroom unannounced, you realized that he was absent, which meant that he was probably showering. In the meantime, while you waited for him to return, you cautiously studied the little knick-knacks and photos displayed all around the room on the shelves you had installed. Apparently, Minho was quite sentimental, and you paused on a picture of Minho smiling next to another cat hybrid who was similar in age and appearance...

“Please don’t touch that,” a guttural voice interrupted your thoughts, and you nearly had a heart attack as you returned the decorative picture frame and turned around to face Minho.

“I’m sorry,” you said, swallowing hard because you felt guilty about messing with his things. “I was waiting for you to get back.”

Minho nodded, choosing to walk around you to peruse the collection of papers stacked on top of his desk. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah...” you started, trailing off when you glanced back at the picture. “Who is that with you?”

Minho sighed at your question, and he pursed his lips like he was considering whether or not he wanted to respond. “He’s my little brother,” Minho eventually relented, and he returned to his files while you studied him with an enlightened understanding of the mercurial hybrid.

“You were separated,” you said, more as a statement rather than an actual question, but Minho still nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Jisung, and I’ve been looking for him,” he said. “But none of the registries match.”

Suddenly, a lightbulb turned on inside your head, and you connected the dots as you realized that the files on Minho’s desk were all documents recording the names of the Hybrids registered with the government - as mandated several years ago.

“I’ll help you find him,” you said, and you could tell that Minho was affected, shoulders rising even as he remained facing away from you. 

“Why would you do that?”

“Because nobody deserves what you’ve gone through,” you said. “I adopted you because I wanted a companion, but there’s more than enough room for another Hybrid.”

He was silent for a moment, and neither of you even took a chance on interrupting the tension until Minho spun around with evidence of fresh tears in his green eyes. “Thank you,” he said, but you didn’t need any gratitude for doing something that you knew was right.

“Let me help you,” you continued. “I’ll do whatever it takes, and you don’t have to avoid me anymore. I think it would be nice if we lived together as a family.”

Minho nodded, and he swiped the sleeve of his shirt beneath his eyes. “I’m sorry for ignoring you....I thought you might send me back to the shelter.”

“I wouldn’t,” you said. “I chose to take on this responsibility, and I’m not the type to just give-up if something proves to be more difficult than I thought.”

“But I made it hard...”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you interrupted him, chancing a few steps closer to place your hand on his shoulder - a soothing gesture. “Let’s find your little brother, okay?”

“Okay,” Minho agreed, and, for the first time since you met, he even managed some semblance of a smile.

Over the course of following two weeks, you and Minho continued to grow even closer as you relentlessly searched for his little brother - constantly reassuring him to never lose hope.

You could tell that he was growing disenchanted with your repeated failures, and you always did your best to improve his moods. You studied him closely, discovering little things that he liked - K-dramas with cheesy endings, chocolate-flavored sweet things, and the feeling of warm towels straight out of the dryer that you always left on his bed after cleaning them.

Each night, you made Minho’s favorite dishes, and the two of you sat together in the living room and ate dinner while watching TV - making jokes about the characters or plot on-screen. It turned out that Minho was very personable, but you had to be very patient to understand his intricate layers. You had to be compassionate and empathetic, and you slowly earned his trust and watched him open up to you. Especially when you would sit together as the kitchen table and search databases online while calling as many adoptions centers as you could find in search of his brother.

“Are you tried?” he asked one night as the two of you finished the last of your calls for the evening.

“Not really,” you replied, but you weren’t expecting him to reach out to skim his fingers over the skin beneath your eyes.

“You have dark circles,” Minho explained, but you found yourself whole-heatedly captivated by a pair of electric green eyes, drawing you closer until the soft brush of his lips across your own snatched you into a hypnosis of pleasure.

The feeling was warm - like something that had been missing, but then rediscovered to make all the pieces match around the edges, and there was nothing left but a comfortable glow sitting on your shoulders as you resisted the urge to hasten the exchange and deepen the tender presses of your lips together.

Unfortunately, the sound of your phone ringing broke the two of you apart, and you sat back with a start as you listened the delicate thud of your heart beating loudly inside your ears. “Hello?” you spoke into the receiver, and you were embarrassed by your breathless tone. 

“Hi, is this Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, this is she,” you said, avoiding Minho’s gaze as you tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

“Perfect! My name is Elise, and I work the adoption center in upper Manhattan. Apparently, you called us earlier about a hybrid registered as Jisung? We just wanted to let you know that some files got mixed up, but we have him here for you safe and sound!”

“Really?” you replied, excitement coursing through your veins as you relayed the news to Minho whose eyes lit up like he was seeing the entire world unfold right in front of him. “Please keep him safe for the night. I’ll be in tomorrow to formally adopt him.”

It turned out that Jisung was the complete opposite of Minho: loud and outgoing, he walked inside your apartment while chattering away about the wallpaper color and other trivial details that made you laugh at his eagerness.

You were amused by his observations, watching as Minho gave him a tour of the apartment while keeping an arm around his shoulders. It was both a protective gesture and an affectionate one, and you were glad to see Minho and Jisung reunited after such a complicated spell of time apart. They deserved nothing more to be together - you could tell that they loved each other, and their easygoing chemistry revealed a complex history that exposed the depth of a brotherly relationship.

But you and Minho had discovered that the two brothers had been separated somewhere between their last transition between owners. It seemed that the couple who had adopted them didn’t care to ensure that the brothers stayed together, and they mishandled the entire process. The situation itself angered you to no end because you couldn’t imagine how cruel a person must be to disregard someone else’s thoughts and feelings simply because they weren’t entirely human.

“So, what do you think?” you asked Jisung when he finally started to unpack his minimal belongings in the guestroom that he would be sharing with Minho. “It might be a little small...”

“Are you kidding?” Jisung interrupted. “I love it!”

“Really?” you wondered, glancing at Minho when his hand found yours, weaving your fingers together with a squeeze.

“Better than the shelter,” Jisung said. “Seriously? I’m so incredibly grateful that you went out of your way to find me.”

“Of course,” you said. “I’m glad to have you here with us.”

“That has a nice ring to it,” Jisung said, and he sat down on the edge of his bed with a sigh. 

“You should rest,” Minho suggested. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” Jisung agreed, and he shot you another grateful smile. “Thank you again, Y/N! For everything.”

You nodded with a contented sigh, allowing Minho to drag you out of the bedroom to allow Jisung some time to himself. Meanwhile, you and Minho enjoyed one another’s company on the couch in the living room, playing a drama in the background while you sat in his lap, sharing heavy kisses and oxygen while scratching your fingernails behind his ears where you had discovered that he was sensitive. 

“This is okay, right?” Minho asked at one point, pulling back to look at you with wide eyes. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about this...thing.”

“Thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “You mean our relationship?”

“Is that what it is?” Minho questioned. “Like...a boyfriend type of thing.”

“If you want,” you agreed, and you were more than amused by his choice of words. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you too,” Minho agreed with a furious shake of his head, followed by his nose sniffing across your collarbone. “You smell good.”

“Thanks?”

“I -uh - it’s a hybrid thing,” Minho said, and you practically snorting from your uncontrollable laughter.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “I’m glad to have you and Jisung here with me, and I think we’ll make a pretty good team together.”

“That sounds nice,” Minho said. “Does that mean we can keep kissing?”

“Isn’t that what boyfriends do?” you grinned, and Minho returned your smile before kissing you senseless with his hands wrapped around your waist - fitting perfectly against your curves like they had always belonged there. 

It was everything beyond your expectation, and you knew that your life was about to become very interesting...

[joaquinwhorres]

The Fool (Ch. 5) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 5,327

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› This ended up shorter than expected but posted sooner than expected. Since I’m needy, please let me know what you think via reblog, message, ask, etc.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net | Read on AO3

"That's it. You officially need a break," Alicia decided, pulling Wren's copy from Advanced Potion Making out from under her forearm. Wren made a noise of protest, reaching up to try to grab the book back from her dormmate, only for Alicia to hold it up out of reach.

"Alicia, I need that."

"Nope," Alicia answered back, popping the p. "You need to relax. You've spent the past two weeks with your nose in this book. Lee says you've already figured out the potion. At this point, you're just obsessing over answers you won't get until you make it."

Wren huffed, sitting up on her bed and glaring at Alicia. "I'm trying to keep the boys out of the hospital wing."

Angelina snorted from her bed, pulling Wren's attention to her. "That's going to involve several sticking charms and maybe a good Body-Bind Curse."

"The only adult they spend more time with than Filch is Madame Pomfrey," Alicia nodded with some finality. "Your potion's fine. You said you even had Cedric check it."

She had, and even he hadn't been able to spot any potential problem spots. Her face must have softened some because Alicia let out a triumphant Aha! which made Wren think she was spending a bit too much time with Nora. This was perhaps more dangerous than anything that could happen with the potion.

"See? You deserve a break."

"Get your mind off it," Angelina added.

"Easier said then done," Wren said, throwing herself back into her pillows. "Between this and classes, it's not like I'm brimming with opportunities to relax."

Alicia turned to Angelina giving her a very significant look. Angelina, for her part, returned the look with a very clear, stern, no. The two girls held each other's stares for a long moment as Wren looked between the two of them, her brow crinkling in confusion.

"For Wren?" Alicia's voice took on a slight pleading tone, and Angelina let out a long-suffering sigh, hanging her head.

"Fine."

The absolute glee on Alicia's face at Angelina's apparent defeat was almost laughable. In fact, it took just about all of Wren's self-control for Wren to keep herself from laughing.

"I'm missing something," Wren said, fighting to keep the corner of her mouth down.

Angelina looked up at Wren with an exhausted sort of resignation. "Apparently I'm having a birthday party on Friday." Alicia turned to Wren, widening her eyes with excitement. Wren smiled reaching out for her copy of Advanced Potion Making, and Alicia passed it over. "But nothing big!" she pointed an accusing finger at Alicia.

"How big can she make it in two days?" Wren asked, raising an eyebrow.

Angelina scowled. "You'd be surprised."

"I promise we'll keep it small and quiet."

"Small and quiet," Angelina repeated with a nod. "And if it's not--just remember I know a lot about you Alicia Spinnet. And I know there are certain things you might not want certain people to know about."

Interest piqued, Wren turned to face Alicia who had narrowed her eyes at Angelina. "You wouldn't."

"And you wouldn't throw me a huge birthday party, would you?" Angelina asked lightly, a bit of a smile turning up her lips as she began stacking her books on the bed.

"Well played, Johnson."

Angelina didn't respond, but there was a certain lightness to her movies as she slid from her bed, picking her books up before making her way to the door.

"Have fun with Katie. Don't forget to invite her!" Alicia called after her, and Angelina waived before exiting the dorm.

There was a beat of silence as both Alicia and Wren stared at the door. The moment stretched one breath, two, three…

"Fred and George are right, you are more devious than you look," Alicia said, spinning back around to face Wren. "You had me convinced you were going to have a breakdown."

Wren laughed. "I still can't believe Angelina needs to be tricked into having a birthday party."

Alicia rolled her eyes shaking her head. "You remember her birthday second year, don't you? We threw her that birthday party and Lee brought those enchanted balloons?" Wren couldn't believe she'd forgotten those balloons. They had filled the common room. When popped they cheered for Angelina, and when the air was let out of them slowly, they literally sang her praises. Not only had Angelina never been one to be the center of attention, but some of the compliments they sang about her were rather...romantic in nature. Wren remembered attempting to corral as much of the balloons as possible and pop them all at once to get it over with. The whole thing had been a complete spectacle leading to a common room had been full of laughter and an extremely mortified Angelina.

Alicia must have seen the memory dawn on Wren because she let out a sigh. "Ever since she hasn't trusted us enough to throw her a party."

"Tell me you haven't enlisted Lee's help for this one," Wren said with a smile.

Alicia paused, her mouth dropping open slightly before a sheepish look overtook her features. Wren laughed out.

"He's the only one able to get us some fire whiskey!"

Wren raised both of her eyebrows at Alicia who sighed, running a hand over her face. "I've made a huge mistake haven't I?"

Wren shook her head. "I'm sure we'll find out Friday."

Wren's eyes followed each jerk of the second hand.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Two more minutes left.

Alicia had left a good twenty minutes ago with Lee and Katie, on their way to the Top Secret Location with the drinks and decorations. Wren and George were slated to come next with the food.

The boys had insisted on a phased departure so as not to draw too much attention to the fact that seven students had left the portrait hole all at once after hours. "A couple here and there the paintings turn a blind eye to," Fred had explained. "A large group at once? Someone's running off to a professor's study."

"Learned that the hard way," Lee chimed in.

So, they'd broken themselves up into groups each with a boy to guide them through the castle to the undisclosed location. Why the location had remained undisclosed was a small mystery that Wren hadn't been able to get a straight explanation for. But, seeing as it didn't really matter, and as George had guessed, she did rather enjoy the thrill of doing something she wasn't supposed to, Wren let it slide.

The second hand landed on 12, and Wren felt her stomach drop as if she were diving on a broomstick. She swallowed hard, standing up from her bed and wiping her palms onto her jeans.

It wasn't the first time she'd snuck out after hours.

But sneaking out to meet a prefect was a bit different than sneaking out to hold a clandestine birthday party. It felt more like a bend than a break of the rules.

She took a breath in and headed towards the door, careful not to wake up Genevieve or Fiona. She closed it behind her with a soft click before padding down the stairs and into the common room. She was halfway down before she noticed George, standing in the shadows close to the portrait hole, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Where's the food?" Wren whispered halfway across the common room. George raised an eyebrow and then gestured to two bags. The closer she got, the better Wren could see that they were bulging with carefully wrapped foods. In the back of her mind, she wondered if they would be too heavy for her to carry inconspicuously through the castle. Rather than voicing the question, she reached for one and slung it over her shoulder.

It was bulky and fell oddly against her side, but she felt confident enough that she'd be able to navigate it through any tight spaces.

"Ready then?" George whispered back, and she nodded, following him out of the portrait hole.

The pair walked silently through the castle halls. There was far less pressing themselves flat against walls, peeking around corners, and freezing to listen for any sounds of movement. Instead, it was simply a silent stroll through a still and dark castle. As if they had every right to be going where they were going.

George stopped suddenly, and Wren almost ran into his back, instead taking hold of his shoulder to steady herself and keep some distance as she pulled up short. George looked over his shoulder at her. "Can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?"

It was a miracle the castle was dark because Wren was sure her face was scarlet. Instead, she settled on a scowl as she yanked her hands back. "A little warning would be nice," she hissed, and George's smile grew as he turned back around, brushing aside a tapestry. He drew a large arc with his wand against the stone, and as if he'd just drawn a doorway, the stones in the center vanished, allowing them passage through the wall. George started in and Wren went to follow when he pulled up short again.

"As a warning, the passage is like 50 meters and then there's a staircase. I'll be stopping to go down the staircase."

Wren glared at him. "That's actually helpful to know, thank you." she snapped lightly, and George grinned, disappearing through the dark doorway and Wren followed.

The tapestry swung closed behind the pair, leaving the passageway completely dark until both students illuminated their wands. It was a fairly straightforward passageway, no choices for turn offs and pleasantly wide enough and tall enough for them to easily walk through. As she always did, Wren wondered how the twins had managed to find this passage and go to class and have friends and do homework and work on their secret projects and manage Quidditch practice along with all of the other routine survival tasks wizards and witches did every day. If she had to guess, the two sacrificed a lot of sleep. And good marks in their classes.

"You might be happy to know that the hard part is sneaking out. Coming back in should be a breeze," George said from ahead of her. His voice was still soft, but it was above a whisper, and the fact that he felt comfortable raising his voice put Wren a bit at ease.

"I'm worried you're lying to me."

"When have I ever lied to you, Wren? Or anyone for that matter?" Despite her certainty that there had been a time, she could not, at the present, name one. George took her silence for what it was: an acquiescence.

"The beauty of it is that tonight's Astronomy for sixth years. They'll be gone past one, and we can just come back in with them."

It was rather ingenious.

The two grew quiet once more as they drew nearer to the staircase, the sounds of their footsteps lightly echoing against the stones. It was on the fourth wraparound that Wren spoke.

"So, where are we going?" Wren asked, gathering her bag up into her arms to keep it from bouncing against her leg any more.

George looked up at her from his lower stair. "The forest."

"The forest?" Wren repeated.

"I know. I had half a thought to leave without you. You've been known to do some impulsive things in forests," George quipped turning back around to watch where he was going. "Last time I brought you into one--"

"I thought we agreed we didn't need to talk about that," Wren said, her voice high and tight.

"I don't remember making any such agreement," George shrugged with a cheeky grin.

"Well let's agree to it now," she huffed.

"Alright, I promise to only bring it up around those who already know."

"Who already knows?" Wren asked, her voice taking on a panicked quality. George shushed her.

"Just you, me, Nora, Fred, and Ginny. Lucky for you it's a tight circle."

"Don't bring it up around Nora and Fred. Fred will just tease me mercilessly about it and Nora will use it to get on my case about Simon."

"Not a fan of his?" George asked, his voice taking on a careful quality.

Wren went quiet. It was hard to explain the depth of Nora's detest. Even Wren wasn't exactly sure what had happened between her boyfriend and her cousin. It had happened slowly over time going from polite greetings to faces pulled behind the other's back and now snide little remarks.

Wren had asked Nora once why she didn't like Simon and she'd given her a litany of reasons (his friends, how he always had to have the answer, his strong opinions), but none of them seemed to make sense as THE reason.

When she'd asked Simon the same question he'd shrugged it off as Nora's problem.

"They don't get along. They're quite different."

George snorted and Wren glared. "What?"

"Bit of an understatement is all," he shrugged. Still suspicious, Wren decided to let it slide as the end of the stairs came within sight.

"So, you agree? Not to bring it up anymore? To anyone?"

"Thought I still had Ginny."

"George!"

"Fine. I agree," his lips curled up into a teasing smile. "Which you should know is a huge sacrifice. You're wonderfully fun to tease about this."

Wren ignored him, hopping down the last step and George led the rest of the way out of the castle in quiet.

When the pair emerged from the castle, it was from under a bush. George reached up and pushed at the bush's trunk, swinging it over to the side so he could scramble out. He reached out a hand to Wren and pulled her out. Wren dusted herself off as George put the bush back before nodding with his head to the left.

Wren felt fairly grateful that when George said "the forest" he didn't mean "in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. They tramped along just at the edge of the forest, the castle remaining visible the entire time. It seemed there were some places even Weasley Twins recognized were forbidden for a reason.

A blue glow up ahead gave away the celebration's spot. As they grew closer, Wren could hear Alicia giving orders to Lee and Katie, and the soft hum of music playing.

"Who's that?" Katie asked above the noise, and all sounds silenced.

"Just us," George called out as he and Wren entered into the small clearing.

It was gorgeous. Small lanterns hung from the trees, luminescent purple, blue, white, and yellow flowers filling each.

Bottles of Butterbeer, Prosecco, and Firewhiskey were gathered on a large stump draped with a purple table cloth.

The music was coming from a small radio placed at the foot of the stump.

At the moment, Lee was looking up at them from where he was bent over a small pile of firewood. Alicia stood over him, rubbing at her arms while Katie finished tying a purple HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner with shimmering gold letters between two trees.

"Hey," Lee grinned before turning back to lighting the fire. His features contorted in concentration and then a small smark appeared

"Got it!"

"You would have gotten in three minutes ago if you'd just said the bloody spell," Alicia muttered, stepping around him and the fire to come up to Wren and George. "Well, what do you think? Think she'll like it?" she asked, rubbing her hands together. It was difficult to tell if it was her nerves or the cold that inspired the action.

"I can't believe you did this all in fifteen minutes," Wren said, looking around to admire the set up once more.

Alicia shrugged sheepishly. "I may have forced Katie and Lee to leave a little earlier."

Wren felt the bag lift from her shoulder and turned as George took both of the snacks and followed Lee to the fallen tree draped with a tablecloth.

"I don't know if anyone can undo what Lee did and make her love birthday parties again, but this has to come pretty close."

"I hope so," Alicia said, turning to watch Fred and Lee lay out the snacks. Lee took his wand from his pocket and pointed it towards the bag. "Oi! No wands, Jordan!"

He looked back at her with a cheeky grin and slipped it back into his pocket before bending over to take the snacks out.

There wasn't much to set up after that. Alicia, Katie, and Lee had done much of the work so that by the time the telltale rustle and snapping of branches could be heard, all of them were sitting on logs, eagerly waiting for Angelina to appear.

Fred came through first, grinning ear to ear, before revealing Angelina looking rather exasperated behind him. The look vanished from her face with one look around the fire at her beaming friends and the whimsical little clearing.

"Oh," she said softly. She seemed to lose her grasp on words as she looked around, blinking rapidly. Alicia let out an excited squeal and launched herself towards Angelina, throwing her arms around her. Katie was not far behind.

"You like it, then?" Alicia asked, pulling back to look at Angelina who was still being rocked side to side by Katie.

"Yes," Angelina nodded, smiling, and the joy was evident in every ounce of Alicia's being. She swiveled to face the rest of the group and twirled a finger in the air.

"Butterbeer all around!"

The last time Wren had been to a birthday party that was this much fun, she had been eight. Her parents had gotten a host of magical creatures and miniaturized them so she had her own petting zoo for the afternoon. She and Nora had gone through and named each one and created a backstory, personality, and relationships between the creatures. In the end, Wren's mother brought out a cake that Aunt Kathleen had made and the family sat around eating cake and sharing stories.

It had been intimate and grand.

Which was exactly how Wren would describe Angelina's birthday party. Although the sweet naivete of a child's petting zoo was definitely lacking as they had each taken to keeping Angelina continuously supplied with firewhiskey. After all, there was no class tomorrow.

This was the same excuse Wren used when stealing her own shots of the burning liquor, throwing them back as she watched George spin Katie around to the music as Lee attempted to dance with a more than slightly tipsy Angelina.

Next to Wren, a body sank down and she looked up to find Fred, holding a bottle of firewhiskey by its neck. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Very much," Wren said, twisting her shot glass into the soft earth so that it didn't tip over. "It's a good break from all that," she said, flailing a hand towards the castle.

Fred let out a low laugh. "The professors have been particularly dragon-like recently."

Wren let out an amused exhale. "And there's the tournament and just all of life at Hogwarts," she shrugged. "It's nice to get away from it for a few hours."

"Not to ruin that," Fred said, and Wren had the distinct feeling that he was, in fact, about to ruin it. "But I did mean to tell you that Charlie sent back a letter, and he will not be giving us any of his hair. For some reason, he doesn't trust us."

Wren laughed and hung her head, shaking it before turning her attention back to meet Fred's gaze. She could see the fire flicker in his eyes making them shine a bit more. "I can't imagine why."

"Beats me," he shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "You'd think we'd done something terrible to him before, like put itching powder in his clothes right before he went out for a date in Hogsmeade."

Wren clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter as Fred's grin grew. Once she felt moderately under control, she dropped her hand. "Well, I think we'll be close enough even without the hair."

"Careful Collings, that sounds dangerously close to confidence."

"Guess your plan is working then," Wren smiled, absentmindedly twisting the shot glass once more.

Fred looked back to the fire and their dancing friends, and Wren followed suit. Alicia had stolen Angelina away from Lee to dance with her and Katie, and Lee and George were amusing themselves, pulling out embers from the fire and making them dance or explode into little tiny fireworks. "They usually do."

If Wren had known what the week leading up to Halloween would look like, she might have tried convincing Alicia to push back Angelina's birthday party to this week. Although, if she had succeeded, she probably wouldn't have been the best of company. And George probably would have had to pry her work from her hands and carry her out of the common room.

So maybe it was best that they'd had the party on Friday.

Still, the tension within the walls of Hogwarts was bordering near unbearable. Not just from the short-tempered professors and the mountains of homework, but the impending test to see if Wren could really create a potion that outsmarted Dumbledore.

She, Fred, George, and Lee had finally settled on a variant that they felt confident would work. (A variant which included no human hair despite the fact that Lee had been able to get some of his father's hair, no questions asked.) Still, Wren continued to double check and triple check her equations and ingredients. No trips to the Hospital Wing. The small mantra rang throughout her head as she made her way to class, checking off her list of measurements.

A hand gripped Wren by the inside of the elbow, tugging her to the side of the hallway. Instinctively she yanked her arm away, whirling on the person who grabbed her. Simon stood with a look of amused confusion.

"Did I scare you?"

"Yes," Wren breathed out, clutching her books tighter, pressing her notes into her chest.

"Sorry," he grinned, looking anything but.

There was a beat of silence between the two of them, and Wren checked over her shoulders at the rapidly clearing hallways. "I don't have long, I'm running late to Herbology."

The grin slid off of his face as he studied hers. "I haven't seen you in over a week."

Wren shook her head and turned to start heading to Herbology. "I know. I'm sorry. I've just been busy."

"Too busy for your boyfriend?" The words came out light, but Wren could hear the line of tension underneath them. She could feel it radiating from his presence next to her as he walked her out to the lawn.

"Too busy to breathe, really," Wren said offering a quick, frazzled smile.

Simon was frowning at her. Not quite anger, not quite concern. More of a disappointment than anything else. "What's got you too busy to breathe?"

Wren shook her head, shrugging. "Sixth year."

"Sixth year?" he repeated, and Wren nodded. "That's it."

"Yes. You were right; it's crushing."

Simon let out an angry sigh and stopped suddenly in his tracks. Despite the fact that the greenhouse was in sight and Professor Sprout had been docking points for tardy students for the first time ever, Wren slowed. "What's wrong?"

"I'm trying to have a conversation with my girlfriend and getting one word answers," Simon said, gesturing at her. "You're not still mad at me about the potion are you?"

"No," Wren shook her head. "I just need to go."

He raised a hand to his brow and rubbed it, letting out an angry exhale. "I don't understand why you're punishing me for trying to help you."

"What? No. I'm just busy--"

"Busy for a week and a half?" He interrupted, raising both his eyebrows.

Wren shrugged. "Yes. You know what it's like. You have weeks like this."

"Don't turn this back on me," he argued.

"Simon--" A bell tolled, alerting students they were officially late to class. Wren winced. "I have to go."

"Fine. Go. You've made it clear I'm not a priority, so carry on." Simon gestured to the greenhouse, and Wren shook her head, reaching out for his hand.

"It's not like that--"

"Maybe I'll see you later, if I'm worth your time," Simon said, snatching his hand away from Wren's and turning back up the hill.

Wren breathed in sharply, taking a moment to compose herself and blink back the tears before turning around and heading to the greenhouse. Quietly, she opened the backdoor and shuffled to her place next to Fred.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Collings," Professor Sprout admonished from the front. Wren nodded, keeping her head down and fixated on the glowing blue plant in front of her.

Fred bumped her shoulder with his own. "You ok?" he whispered.

Wren nodded, giving him a quick glance. His warm brown eyes were fixated on her face, his mouth tugged down with concern. It made it harder not to cry.

So, she looked back down at the plant and gave a halfhearted smile. "Fine."

She couldn't believe the day was here.

The past week seemed to have passed by in a blur. One moment she was agreeing to make the potion with Fred, George, and Lee. Then it was Angelina's birthday party, the final day of classes the other week, and the arrival of the other schools.

When they found out that Impartial Judge was the Goblet of Fire and that all Dumbledore was doing to assure participants were of age was drawing an age line, she was certain she would burst.

It was the best possible scenario, especially since Charlie turned down the twins' requests for some hair. There were only so many failsafes someone could put into an age-line versus layered complex enchantments on the cup itself.

This could work.

This could really work.

When the four of them had brewed the potion last night, none of them could keep from grinning. Compared to the mess of figuring that part out, getting selected seemed a breeze.

Yet, in spite of obstacle after obstacle being overcome, Wren couldn't shake the feeling of anxiousness that buzzed through her. And that was why she sat alone in the common room while the rest had all gone down to the entrance hall to watch prospective champions enter. She decided that she'd simply wait up here to hear how it went. If it worked, the boys would be leading a triumphant parade back. And if it didn't...she didn't want to see it.

"Angelina told me I might find you here," Fred said, dropping into the seat across from her. "Said you were too nervous to come down."

Wren's cheeks grew warm. She wished she wasn't such an obvious read. Especially when it came to her nerves. She was in Gryffindor and nervous about someone else taking a risk. It didn't make any sense.

"Unfortunately, your presence has specifically been requested by myself, George, and Lee, so you're going to have to come."

She snorted. "Is that how it works?"

"That's precisely how it works," Fred said, leaning back in his chair and looking at her with an amused smile. "But I am glad to have caught you here because I also wish to collect."

Wren tilted her head. "Collect?"

"You owe me, Wren Collings," Fred said, meaningfully as if that were enough to clear it up.

"I believe you owe me," Wren said, crossing her arms.

"Ah, fair point," Fred said, taking a piece of candy from his pocket and handing it over. Wren took it. "Now I've paid up, and you owe me."

Wren's eyes furrowed a bit and she offered the candy back. Fred held out a hand to stop her. "Nope, I want equal payment for services rendered."

"What are you on about?"

He turned to look at her with eyebrows raised and an expression that made her stomach twist. “You owe me a kiss.”

“I—” Wren started and he cut her off.

“I also helped to pull Nora to the trees. I just wasn’t first because I had to make sure Ginny didn’t run after the other lot. And George's been holding it over my head for while so…” Fred puckered his lips and Wren laughed in spite of herself.

“Absolutely not.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a quick one; no one's around for a show.“

“No,” Wren shook her head, the smile slowly fading. “Because that other one--it was just an act of irrepressible gratitude.”

“Interesting because it looked rather like a kiss."

She shook her head again as if he'd missed it the first time. "No, I just wasn't thinking. I mean my head was completely gone. One moment I thought we were going to die, and then we didn't and--"

"You don't have to explain," Fred said, holding out a hand for her to take. Wren slipped her hands on his, and he squeezed it reassuringly. "You just have to bestow an act of irrepressible gratitude on me," he grinned. Wren snatched her hand back as he laughed out loud.

"Shove off," Wren snapped lightly, standing up from the table. Fred stopped laughing as he joined her, walking towards the portrait hole. They had just exited when Wren spun on him again. "None of the jokes in front of anyone else, ok? I don't want--I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea and then...it didn't mean anything and I--"

"Don't hurt yourself, Wren," Fred said with a shake of his head as he led the way down to the Great Hall. "It'll stay between us."

There was a small cheer from their friends when Wren appeared behind Fred. Everyone else had their eyes fixated on the cup which stood in the center of a glowing golden circle. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione hovered near their little group, each looking rather skeptically at George and Lee.

"Ready then?" Fred asked, clapping Lee on the shoulder.

"Who's going first?" Lee asked, looking between the two twins.

"I'll go," Fred said, pulling a slip of parchment from his parchment with his name and Hogwarts scribbled on it. He walked slowly up to the line and paused just before it. Wren's eyes were glued on him as he took a deep breath and then stepped over the line. Her mouth dropped open and George let out a triumphant yell and jumped in after Fred.

And then it went wrong.

A loud sizzling sound echoed around the Entrance Hall and then both of the twins were flying out of the circle, crashing into the stone floor. Wren lurched towards them, stopped only by Angelina's arm looped through hers. Then, there was a loud pop and Fred and George had each grown identical white beards, long enough to rival Dumbledore's.

Everyone laughed. Lee was bent over clutching at his middle, Katie was wheezing like she couldn't breathe, and even Hermione was giggling loudly. The twins stood up, brushing themselves off and upon one look at each other broke out into laughter as well.

Wren didn't laugh though.

"I did warn you," said a deep voice laced with amusement. The whole hall turned to see Professor Dumbledore emerge from the Great Hall, his eyes on Fred and George. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred turned to Wren and wiggled his eyebrows at her, but she still couldn't bring herself to smile.

Because she had sent them to the Hospital Wing.

[popculturebuffet]

Legend of the Three Cablleros: Nazca Racing and Mexico A-Go-Go

Saludos Amgios and welcome back to The Ride of the Three Caballeros! And we’re almost at the finish line! After this reviews only 4 episodes, 2 reviews and a top 12 list/celebration of this long and fun as hell journey, this one for free to thank kev for paying for all these reviews and because without him this probably woudlnt’ of happened for some time and I thank him for that. Point is we’re so close I can taste it to being finished here so with nothing else to cover, after the cut we’re diving right into adventure.. literally. 

Nazca Racing: 

So we open at the outside of Sheldgoose Manor as while we’re not at the scene of the action YET, the show has kept it’s tendency to have intresting intros as it goes on. Point is Xandra is incredulous about the guys claims of a magic barrier.. for some reason. Seriously Sheldrake is a powerful sorecerer, has a lair, even if they don’t know about that part, why WOULDN’T his place be shielded from you guys? Still she has to test it punchiing it , arrowing it and throwing a rock at it.. and the rock does take out a window prove it even if i’ts vandalism but that wasn’t a crime thousands of years ago and no one saw them so we good. 

Our heroes brainstorm back at the Cabana what to do, ignoring the girls suggestion that since the cabs can’t get through the barrier they can but are ignored because ... I dunno. I seriously dont’ know, they haven’t treated the kids like this before or since. Also if you were wondering why not humphrey, spark of life. Too risky. But this discourse is interupted as there’s a signal in peru. The trap has been sprung and the girls warn it might be since they KNOW the cabs will show up where they are and have time to plan but are brushed off. We also get the start of a thread with Jose as he gives all his money to some kittens who are actually con artists. Turns out that’s WHY he’s poor: he gets money easily but donates it all to bogus charities. You know like Louie’s kids or PETA. It’s a nice character trait, showing despite being a lady’s man and having a bit of an ego.. he’s still a very good guy if very, VERY gullible. Hopefully it comes up againa s this smacks of a flaw brought up and solved in one episode, and while ti’s adressed her it really dosen’t get resolved, but with 5 episodes left after this I HIGHLY doubt it. 

So our heroes are off to the Nasca lines of having gotten there with the help of a shady pilot... instead of you know.. porting there.. but given the Nazca Lines are best seen from air according to wikipedia and best shown off that way, as well as the fact it’s revealed you can enter the realm the creatures represented in the lines inhabit via plunging into it, it does make sense. She could’ve TOLD them all this before going but this is one of her off days. The Nazca Lines are a real life set of geoglypys that look really damn cool, and show up in all sorts of works, the two off the top of my head are Mega Man Starforce 2 where their used as the basis for the villians, and Yu-Gi-Oh! 5ds, where there used for the basis for the earthbound immortals.. also villians, a series of powerful and evil gods, and naturally represented by cards, that bring people back from the dead to serve as their avatars, known as the dark signers. 

As you can see they also look really fucking awesome. Sadly I have not had a deck with them as I haven’t really thought about it and you need a field spell to keep them alive, but still good stuff. Really need to watch that arc in full some day. 

Point is the plane starts to fall apart because the pilot swindled them, or rather Jose, and they have to jump without a parachute as there’s only one. Xandra of course leaps first forgetting her friends don’t have god strength or durability and will just go squish if her logic doesn’t pan out. Panchito naturally leaps without thinking and Jose decides why not and sky captain and the crappy plane he bought for 5 bucks decides to snatch the parachute so Donald’s forced to leap.  It does work though and we do get one of the best parts of the series thus far: our heroes are drawn in chalk which is beautiuflly animated and a really creative idea. Granted the magic chalk thing dosen’t make a LOT of sense given the lines are carved in.. but at the same time we’re talking about three talking birds and a goddess chasing after an overweight one percenter, his talking staff and said talking staff’s son/lover/donkeybatmonkeyrat. Exact accuracy to real life can be waved just a smidge. Point is they find Mono, a monkey and one of the guardians of the lines, who Feldrake apparently trapped, though Xandra is suspcious. NOW, after their already in the trap basically. 

But yeah Mono tells them Feldrake is going after the Nazca Gyroscope, a device at the center of the earth that keeps the earth orbiting the sun. 

Point is our heroes have to stop him though Xandra is again suspcious as Feldrake wants to conquer the world not destroy it....  forgetting the whole lava lizard scheme... just.. seriously what was his plan there. rule over a pile of ashes.. actually given Feldrake’s competence and intellegence so far. that’s probably exactly it. Why is Sheldgoose the one getting called fool a lot again?

So we get another really stellar Musical Number, draw the line as our heroes progress through the Nazca world. Also I forgot to mention but earlier, in a nice bit of setup, we set up both that jose is a talented artist, which comes in handy here, while donald struggles and doubts himself. Can.. .can relate. Say that a lot but REALLY can relate. They end this wonderful song easing on down the road while our villians watcht hem.. instead of you know going ahead up and erasing them as is their plan. 

Meanwhile, the trips sneak into Sheldgooses mansion trying to find some sort of evil scheme or lair or some clue they can use. But instead june, looking for some secret in the money vault, instead is caught by security so a chase insues and our heroines spend the episode barely outrunning the security dogs.. who SHeldgoose apparently raised. 

Don’t.. DON’T want to think about THAT any longer than I have to. Point is they find Feldrake’s hidden lair we saw in the second episode where Sheldgoose found the staff. Not bad stuff, just really not something I need to spend an hour recapping. 

So our heroes continue along encountering Hanzy, another guardian with giant hands who they free from a finger trap.. and her reasoning is both adorable and chucklesome, as Sheldgoose, having a piece of the chalk, drew a finger trap and never having had one in her size she just had to try it. So the party gains another member as they tread carefully past the spider, the final guardian and one who will eat them without a second thought.  With that they reach the gyroscope.. and Mono turns on the cabs revealing Sheldgoose tricked him into thinking they were the bad guys and this is naturally a trap. And that is part of the episodes problem: the tension from “well their walking straight into a trap” is kinda.. nonexistant. OUr heroes ran in blind, and even when suspicious in the liens being on their guard amounts to nothing and we know from last episode this is a trap. It’s one thing to have a plan turn out to be a trap for the heroes or for the villians, as we’ll see later this week, that’s fine.. but either the audience isn't aware or there’s general tension from our heroes not knowing. Here there’s none of that. 

So our heroes are trapped in a cage while Sheldgoose and Feldrake head up top to erase them, as if their drawings on hte line, the way they came in are erased so are they. It’s a good plan.. and the tension is dissipated again as hanzy just casually tosses the cage off, mono apologizes and our heroes use the chalk to draw themselves flying machines, with Donald only having a balloon and a basket. Comedic gold.  Despite once again any dramatic tension this episode evaporating like ..t ears in the rain? I dunno I don’t have a metaphor that works here. Despite this the race is genuinely thrilling with sheldgoose busting out a shark rocket launcher since neither Feldrake nor Xandra’s magic work in the lines. Nice touch by the way. But he runs out of chalk (”You should’ve learned how to conserve space!”) though our villians reach the exit first by unleashing the spider, who Jose tries to smooth talk into not eating them.. and Donald, like me afriad of spiders, iconically shouting “KILL IT, KILL IT WITH FIRE!”

The heels erase Hansy, which is genuinely sad. Our heroes do escape in time though before he can get them and while Feldrake makes a speech in an awesome moment, Xandra just.. ignores it and fills him full of arrows.. well the g rated equilvent about that, I don’t think any of us want to see Wayne Knight bleed buckets. I”m still not over that scene from Jurassic Park where we saw nothing but I imagined it all right.. I.. imagined it *shudders*

So i’m scared for life but our heroes are free and revive hanzy with the chalk and we get a really sweet payoff to Donald’s trouble drawing as his new finger for her is a bit crooked but she loves it. It shows even if your art isn’t as good as other people’s it’s still worth something. A nice message. Feldrake once again berates Sheldgoose who points out the cabs can escape death again and again... giving Feldrake the idea to go talk to death personally. And yeah these teases... while I get this series was made for streaming.. they keep hurting the story slightly like they did here. Though I will give them credit this one.. ends up ratcheting up the tension next time so props. 

Final thoughts on Nazca Racing:  This one was decent. The animation was gorgeous and always the jokes were top notch, and the subplot was a nice opportunity for the triplets to take the stage and have an adventure.. but the plot banks a lot on our heroes walking into a very obvious trap and that just sours things for me. Still it’s not a bad episode like “World Tree Caballeros” or “No Man is an Easter Island” for the reasons stated above. And there was no daisy for an episode so while I badly wanted to find out how she’d react to the events last episode, we also got a break from her being bitchzilla, queen of monsters for an episode.. for an episode. “Sigh”

Mexico-A-Go-Go:

Okay back on form. Our heroes return home to find.. a conspiracy board all around the house. 

Sadly it’s not that but it turns out the girls haven’t slept since the mansion and while Donald objects to their breaking and entering, they soon reveal what htey found: The Sheldgooses have all been linked to eveyr major disaster over the centuries... ever since Feldrake, who we see as a mortal for the first time, holding his OWN book as a counterpart to the heroes. They also uncovered a connection to Clinton coot and the sheldgooses but don’t have time to elaborate before Donald waves them off to check his messages.  Unsurprisingly it’s Daisy who says “In light of recent events” i.e. you know seeing Donald’s friend save her life, dapper abandon her and seeing donald fight an evil sorcerer and wrangle a bear, to give him one more second chance. 

Yeah i’ve spent a good chunk of this series complaining about Daisy.. and given she appears in the final two episodes i’m probably not finished. But this is just.. wow. So now she KNOWS, if not all the details that Donald and his friends are entangled in something big and scary, that involves a lives bear and actual fucking magic, so that his ducking out on her last time was NOT him being irresponsible or going to hang with his pals or something stupid, but probably something pretty important, she’s not fully aware of everything but she’s aware ENOUGH to know Donald really is making something of himself or at least is trying and really didn’t mean to mistreat her.. and she STILL is giving him fucking ultimatums!

I just.. i’m so done with this whole fucking subplot. All of it. Not just Daisy, Donald constnatly having a moan about loosing her and whining about going on missions to save the world instead of keeping this ungrateful, bossy, self esteem shattering, shrill, selfish, gold digging, impossibly high stand’s keeping big gulp full of bitch. 

Donald.. buddy YOU CAN DO BETTER. Xandra’s right there and even if she’s not interested there’s a WHOLE TOWN of rich, eligible ladies. Go woo one of them! it’s hard getting out there, believe me I know, it’s VERY hard and i’ll probably die alone.. but your a good man, you have good friends. Friends who’ve screwed up yes but good friends to wingman and wingwoman for you. Just... leave Daisy behind. It’s not good for your mental health to keep bending over backwards for someone who wants you to be something you’ll NEVER be. Who wants someone sophisticated and with a steady job.. and the latter part’s never going to happen now your a Caballero, and given that’s more important.. good! If she can’t see what you do or won’t take the time to fucking listen... MOVE. ON. I know moving on’s hard but you have to. For your own health. Staying stuck in place over a person just hurts you and them. 

And as for Daisy..  this is easily the worst version of the character. And I went into this FULLY KNOWING this version was bad, FULLY KNOWING she was going to be grating and some of the things she’d pull like Dapper thanks to spoilers. It’s why I held off watching this for so long.. and turns out while it was worth it, the series is quite good, my fears were JUSTIFIED and no amount of reading it could prepare me for how terribly written and horribly damaging this all is.  And I do mean damaging: Kids pick things up from media. And while I should’ve caught on sooner, can’t fully blame a cartoon, I did as a kid and teen get my idea of romance from cartoons and tv and thus got the idea that pining after someone in secret was okay and they’ll come around eventually and starring at them and what not is entirely fine and not creepy. Of course it isn’t, of coure you have to say something, and of course you have to let it go if there with someone else. I know that NOW, and there have been much better geek gets the girl plots. .but it still seriously fucked with my autistic brain’s view on friendships with women, something I still struggle with at times.  And that’s why I take this shit seriously: Because while thankfully I never bought into THAT , shit where “it’s okay if it’s a WOMAN, abusing a MAN”. Men can be abused to. It’s why we had SO SO MANY unfunny stalker characters in the 2000′s, and so many plots like this where the guy is wrong.. because h’es male and his partner being domineering and expecting him to change everything without doing anything for them or treating them as an equal.. is just not okay.  And it speaks to a bigger problem.. out of touch writers who assume because THEIR wives are only with them out of obligation that’s how ALL relatoinships work, when no it’s not get a divorced please god. The Duckverse REALLY doesn’t need this According to Jim, My Wife and Kids, George Lopez, Home Improvement, Cleveland Show, King of Queens, Dinosaurs, Rick and Morty, Glen Martin DDS, etc all bullshit. People break up and Donald deserves better. And I genuinely blame both EP Matt Daner and Tony Anselmo for this. And I have a LOT of respect for both guys, i’ve made that very clear.. but Matt as EP and thus the one in charge fo the overall storyline is clearly the one who thought of this and Tony, who helped write for Donald this series, didn’t either get Tress, whose been doing daisy for two decades and is as knolwedgle for her as he is for donald the same courtsey or chime in given he should know daisy better. Both of these men should know better. Danner wrote for Xiaolin Showdown, that had great female characters for the most part and Tony is a grown ass man whose worked with women and is married as far as I know. Figure it out.  This Daisy thing has EASILY been the worst part of this retrospective as a whole, the worst part of this series and probably the worst thing i’ve seen in a duck property.. and again I saw daisy ACTUALLY HIT DONALD. 

And this is worse. Because instead of one moment of terrible writing and misplaced slapstick that comes off as abuse, it’s just a constnat barage of emotoinal abuse treated as if i’ts DONALD’S fault. Donald did nothing wrong to her and his only crime is obessing of this hellspawned hardian. Fuck this entire plot with a garden rake lined with acid.

Also just a quick note before we speed through Daisy’s screentime to get to the good part of the episode, there’s, at least no yet NO proper reaction to Donald’s new life and it bothers me it bothers me a lot. She learns he has this whole secret life and has no fucking questions just more of the same old bullshit. “SIGH”

So yeah this b-plot: Donald wants to stay for Daisy

And the others drag him along though this time.. Donald comes off as the asshole because he KNOWS they need him, knows he’s useful and knows this is more important but drags his feet anyway for someone who again, has done NOTHING good for him. And even with the girls saying the’ll help and telling him to keep the mirror handy, he still keeps complaning up until the plans reveaeld. 

The plan, which.. May I think, the orange one. I know June is purple, but while May isn’t on board for this, the plan is to have April and June do the totoem pole trench and have donald be the face. So the entire plan is basically this

They have an actually nice date till the ruse is revealed, and while he says “I can explain” which he can.. she PUNCHES the mirrror saying explain this. 

So our heroes need to go to Mexico, Panchito’s homeland and somehow, in a series based on and starring primarily south american characters... one of the two times we visit the region and the only time we visit one of the cabs two home countries. Now the latter part i’m fair on since they were likely saving Brazil for the season 2 that never happened and didn’t want to blow their load just yet. The other part.. not so much. I’m not saying set the entire series there, there’s a lot of world, but most of the locations aside from the world tree are pretty common for globetrotting adventure: Easter Island, Stonehenge, Mt. Rushmore, The Pyramids, the Moon, and coming up Camelot and Shangri La. These aren’t BAD settings mind and are used creatively and probably will be in the two I haven’t seen, and the setups involving king arthur and a yeti spa do sound like they wont’ dispoint, but you had a real opportunity to teach kids, and my grown man self, about South America and ya blew it. 

But we’re in Mexico where after meeting a spooky cloaked guy who says they might not leave alive

So our heroes enter the temple and the other side and find a bunch of chickens who see Panchito, who insisted on the trip due to his luchadores code of always helping the incident, as a god and their chosen champion for the goddess of light as the preistess explains. So we get a montage of Panchito getting pampred while the other cabs get pushed around, ending at a restraunt.  Xandra is naturally suspcious as the locals are being AWFUL vauge about what’s going on here, and this is getting pretty midsomar. Donald is distracted by daisy and Jose is distracted by a beautiful senorita, leaving Xandra to TRY and get panchito to think.. before being distracted herself by a mysterious handsome latino gentleman in black. Though during the dance with thier respective partners, Xandra and Jose both remark that it’s weird.. but are distracted by the sexy long enough for it to be revealed what Panchito’s duty is: as the champion of life.. he has to fight the champion of death. No Prize for guessing who. Though unlike with “Nazca Racing” where the teaser removed all tension since we knew it was a trap, here the teaser last episode helps, as we don’t see Team Feldrake till this moment, and we know something involving death itself.. and finding out panchtio’s representing life just ratchets up tension: we know the bad guys are involved.. but we don’t know how or what they’ll do. 

And the how is simple: A one on one wrasslin match! 

Or lucha match since we Panchito’s a luchador and we’re in mexico. He’s wearing his usual outfit while Sheldgoose is wearing standard wrestling tights.. so a superstar babyface versus a heel comentator... but actually entertaining this time. As you can tell I love wrestling. While i’m more of a casual fan, I watch OSW and some other wrestling youtubes and don’t really watch the product at the moment, I do love and respect the sport and love a good wrestling episode or series of television as a result, so this hits the spot. 

So the match goes on and Panchito has the clear lead as Sheldgoose is playing by college wrestling rules and Panchito is playing by pro wrestling rules. And while you can use standard holds well you gotta mix the two together kurt angle style. Eventually Xandra decides to confront the sexy bird and sexy boy, and finds out, in a twist I didn’t see coming they ARE the god of life and god of death, respectively. While I knew this was a fight to the death, as death explains, a symbolic battle between the two with real stakes to keep ballance, I thought these two were just illusions brought up to keep Xandra and Jose from leaving or digging deeper. Instead they were just doing it on their own and as the god of death shows, they were genuinely intrested. I mean... why not get some while preparing to have your champions do battle. God for you death god, multitasking like that. Same for you goddess of life. Get it girl, you get after it. Jose is a fine man. I’d tap that if I could. Get after it.  So Xandra warns Panchito who finds taking life against his code and Jose again shows his awesomeness by pointing out the obvious: the match is timed, so if they run out the clock it’s a draw. Might lead to something but it’s better than nothing. So Panchito TRIES this, but Sheldgoose has leopold “Throw mommy to daddy” (One of my faviorite gags of the episode), and wacks him with feldrake before the whole thing becomes a brawl. And the god of Death does not take DQ’s or outside intefernce well and instead kills them all for breaking the rules. 

Not kidding. The main cast is DEAD minus Xandra, as Death still wanted to bone her, but she refuses. So now Xandra is left while al lher friends are dead while the god and goddess head off in his caddy to go knock over mailboxes I guess. 

Final Thoughts on Mexico-A-Go-Go:  Outside of .. certain parties, this was a REALLY fun one, with a great wrestling theme, a great mystery and the awesomeness that was the god of death, who was smooth, cool and thoroughly interesting and I wish there was a second season and his and xandra’s dynamic was really interesting. One of the series best, helped by the fact the Daisy bit while thoroughly irritating, was religated to a pretty funny subplot, with May being understandably skeptical of the plan, it somehow working and the sheer redicuonsess. It dosen’t make daisy tolerable, but it makes the episode better. 

[harrylee94]

The Tournament - Chapter 5

You can find this on AO3!

Summary: "You are not fit to wear your armour. You are not fit to bear your clan name. You are not fit to be called Mandalorian."

Notes: I was not expecting this to happen! I have no idea what's going on!

Chapter 4

——————————————————————

“I’ll be watching you, Djarin” - Din

It was the day before the Trials were set to begin. Contenders from across the kingdom had been arriving since the day after the announcement had been made, and now Din was sure that half of the Lords and Chiefs under his soon-to-be reign were either camping at his doorstep or even housed within his walls, maybe more. Tonight though, it was time for the welcome feast, a chance for him to show his appreciation for the support they were offering, and to pretend that he didn’t notice how they were all trying to make a grab for power.

As Prince of Mandalore, he had been the first to arrive, taking his place at the high table just to the right of the Witch King’s seat and watching as the nobles filtered in, their names and titles announced by the master of ceremonies, each pausing at the door as they did so before walking before him, offering a bow or curtsy -- depending on whether they were wearing skirts or not -- and heading over to their assigned seat.

It was a long and tedious process, but Din made sure to pay attention; these were to be his subjects, it wouldn’t do to make them think he didn’t care about them.

“It is an honour to meet you, my Prince,” another Chief, Veranaar of Clan Ruusuk Din remembered, said as they bowed to him. “My daughter, Veryn, shall be competing for the honour of being your Protector in the coming days.” He waved to the young woman at his side, who bowed as well, the pieces of armour she wore emblazoned with the symbol of their clan.

“I wish you the best of luck, Veryn of Clan Ruusuk,” Din said diplomatically, nodding at them as they continued on towards their seats.

There were a number of contestants in the room, most of them third or fourth born and wearing at least the pauldrons of their armour, but there were also some first or second born ade who were sending looks his way. Looks he was sure were meant to be provocative and alluring, but they felt slimy on his skin and made him want to shiver.

Being married to someone who only wanted to use you for the power he held wasn’t as bad as the idea of someone he didn’t trust following him around every second of the day, but it still made him sick to the stomach.

“Lord Shir’aat Suum’anar of House Suum’anar, and Ser Jaonar Suum’anar,” the master of ceremonies called, and two of the most pompous Mando’ade stepped into view.

The older of the men held himself like he was one of the highest ranking in the room, though Din noted that he was very careful to keep himself from overstepping. He wore no armour from what Din could see, but his tunic was beautifully embroidered in such a way to make it look like mail. His son, on the other hand, proudly wore his pauldrons, leather replacing what would usually have been a breast plate, a sun hammered into the surface, and vambraces tied to his forearms. He looked around the room like he belonged here, and gave off an air of vanity that did not bode well.

Together, they made Din feel both underdressed -- though the embroidery on his tunics still felt like too much, and his armour had been made by the best smith and leatherworker in the kingdom --and angry. Clothes like that would have cost a fortune, and the money could have been put to better use paying for the upkeep of the roads and for the welfare of their people, but instead they used it to show off just how grand they were.

He bit the inside of his cheek as they approached and bowed.

“My Prince,” Lord Suum’anar said with a flourish as he rose. “It’s such an honour to be welcomed to this celebration.”

“How could I not welcome one of my closest allies?” Geographically speaking. “Plus your son has been here for many months now.”

“Indeed he has,” Lord Suum’anar agreed. “Jaonar intends to compete for the position of Protector in the Trials.”

Position, not honour, Din noted.

“I wish you luck, Ser Jaonar,” he said with a false smile, and building suspicion when the knight went to say something but his father stopped him with a nudge of his elbow. He pretended he didn’t notice as they walked away with another quick bow to allow the next person -- who he'd missed the name of -- to approach.

It continued on like this for a while, listening to names, greeting people with false smiles and wishing he was somewhere else, perhaps having a drink with Cara, or finding an excuse to talk to Vanth, perhaps to ask about the shovel handle he’d set on his buir’s pyre, but then a name was called that he couldn’t ignore.

“Lady Bo-Katan Kryze of House Kryze!” the master of ceremonies called, and a woman in a blue tunic and trousers entered, chain mail resting over the top of the fabric, and dyed leather pauldrons were strapped to her shoulders. Her chest plate was painted with the owl of her clan in white, and her helm, peeking out from beneath her arm, had been crafted to a similar visage. It was the definition of overkill, but she moved like she'd been born in it.

Conversation around the room came to a halt as he rose from his seat, the guests Din had been speaking to quickly scuttling out of the way before she came to a stop before him.

The silence dragged on for several tense seconds, neither one of them moving. You could hear the wind whistling through the windows from how quiet it was.

House Kryze and House Djarin had been rivals for many years, the throne having once belonged to the Kryze family not even a hundred years ago, before the Djarins won it from them. Though the tension between their Houses had dissipated somewhat, it still remained.

The Lady Kryze bowed her head in a nod. “Prince Djarin.”

“Lady Kryze,” he replied.

The silence returned, and Din could feel his magic buzzing in anticipation.

She stepped closer to the table until they were less than a meter apart, and Din had to signal to keep Saruk and his guards from acting. A smirk appeared in the corner of her lips as she leaned over the table; perhaps she was impressed, but Din would likely never find out.

“I’ll be watching you, Djarin,” she said.

“Likewise,” he replied, keeping a careful eye on her as she stepped away and moved around the table to sit not three seats away from him. She took the goblet before her and held herself tall as she drank, and slowly the conversations started up again. Din set himself back down in his seat, and waved for the master of ceremonies to continue announcing the guests.

Despite the tension, he couldn't help but be a little relieved of Kryze's presence. In a room full of falsehoods, she was one of the few who didn't hide her intentions.

The rest of the introductions were difficult to concentrate on, especially with Kryze so close at hand, but soon enough all his guests had been seated and the food was being produced from the kitchens.

Roasted boar and fish were placed on a table in the centre of the hall, as were whole legs of lamb, pheasants, and even a swan. Dishes of vegetables and specially prepared fruits were offered by the servers as the carvers sliced the meats into servings, baskets of bread and cheese were offered, jugs of mead, ale and wine passed around, and, of course, a large cauldron of Tiingilar was carried in.

The smells that filled the room were enough to make even a full stomach rumble, but first Din had to make a speech.

Once again he rose from his seat, the action alone drawing everyone’s attention, and he put on his smile.

“My Lords, Ladies, and Verde,” he began, looking around the room. “I welcome you to my halls to share this celebration. Tomorrow the Trials for the honour of becoming the next Protector begin, but tonight we feast and make merry!” He raised his goblet high. “Oya!”

“Oya!” his guests cheered, their own drinking vessels rising.

As Din brought his own goblet to his lips, his magic suddenly fell silent, and it drew him up short. Ever since he could remember it had been there, humming at him in the background, curled around him at night, and in the past few weeks it had been the loudest it had ever been. The sudden silence unbalanced him, and he swayed a little in place. He was vaguely aware that Saruk had gripped their sword from where they stood at his side, but he was otherwise occupied by the sudden gap inside him. What was happening? Where had it gone? Why did he suddenly feel so cold? Had it abandoned him? Was he unworthy?

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, his magic surged back like a tidal wave, filling his limbs with warmth and washing his fear away, replacing it only with danger, danger, there .

His goblet fell as he released it without a thought, fingers curling instead around the sword at his belt. His magic continued to scream at him, and he spun in place, drawing the sword with it in one smooth moment. There was the sound of metal hitting metal, and Din was aware of something clattering to the table, and then the paved floor behind him, but he had eyes only on the young woman who still had her arm outstretched, eyes wide.

“Guards!” Saruk cried, and they swarmed the would-be assassin, grabbing her by the arms and shoulders and removing any other visible weapons before dragging her around the tables to stand before him as she struggled. It was as she was stood there that he was able to put a name to her face; Veryn of Clan Ruusuk. His eyes searched the tables until they came to rest upon her father, Veranaar, who looked pale and shocked. Perhaps she had worked alone then.

“Veryn of Clan Ruusuk,” he said, voice echoing in the now silent hall. “Would you care to explain why you have made an attempt on my life?”

She remained stubbornly silent as she glared up at him, struggling in the guards’ arms as they continued to pat her down to remove any additional weaponry she might have hidden away.

He waited for a few seconds more before nodding. “Very well. You are not fit to wear your armour." Straps were cut and leather and metal hit the floor. "You are not fit to bear your clan name." Her father gasped. "You are not fit to be called Mandalorian. You are dar'manda, and for your crime of treason, you are to be executed at dawn."

Veranaar choked on a sob. "Veryn, why?"

She turned to him with a sneer. "You've become weak, father," she said. "We were once a proud family, but now we are forced to bend low for the welfare of those lesser than us." She spat on the floor. "I will not bow to a King who allows this to continue."

"Take her away," Saruk ordered, "and escort Chief Ruusuk and the rest of his clan out of the keep." That they would be watched was left unspoken, but heard by all.

As Veryn was taken away, one of the guards who had come to stand behind him stooped to retrieve the weapon she'd thrown, and offered it to him. It was a wicked looking blade, though well balanced as all throwing knives were, the edges serrated and the blade itself holding the oily gleam of some sort of poison. He set it down carefully and waited for Clan Ruusuk to leave before waving at the minstrels who had been waiting in a corner and sheathing his sword.

Music began and he sat back in his seat with a sigh. He hadn't even been crowned yet and already there was a threat on his life. He looked over at Saruk, who gave him a nod of approval, their hand now resting threateningly on their sword, and then at Lady Kryze, who, much to his surprise, gave him a similar nod.

He sighed as talk resumed, and he was sure that the news of the attempt on his life would spread to the edges of the camp outside the walls before the day was out. Had it not been for his magic, he was sure it would have been a successful one.

Shoving that thought away, Din tried to focus on eating, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach much.

He'd just sentenced someone to death, and he was the one who would have to swing the sword. But even worse than that, now he knew what people thought of him, how could he trust any of the contenders for Protector?

——————————————————————

Mando'a Translations:

Ade -- children

Mando’ade -- children of Mandalore

Buir -- parent

Tiingilar -- a hearty and traditional Mandalorian stew made with a multicoloured blend of meat, various vegetables, and a potent mix of spices

Verde -- warriors or soldiers

Oya -- cheers - lit. ‘let’s hunt’, but can also mean ‘stay alive’ or ‘go you’

Dar'manda -- not Mandalorian, soulless, has lost a right to their heritage

Chapter 6

[stahlop]

Making a Memory (12/12) Epilogue

This is it guys! The final chapter. More of an epilogue. But it's finally done! I'm so grateful for everyone who has encouraged me to write this story and for those that have written wonderful comments about it. I could never have imagined such a response when I originally just had a Parent Trap idea that then turned into a cursed Emma and Killian idea.

Thank you so much to @profdanglaisstuff​ and @thisonesatellite​ for being my betas on this. You two and @mariakov81​ encouraged me so much to write this and I couldn't imagine it would turn into this great big MC when I did.

Also thank you to @gingerchangeling​ for the header for this story and to @mariakov81​ for the drawing that she drew me for my birthday that went with this story.

And thank you to the @cssns​ for having this event so I actually had a reason to write this instead of just having the idea in my head.

So without further ado, the epilogue to Making a Memory.

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Ao3

It always amazed Alice that in her Papa’s cursed persona he obviously still had the love for the ocean but had never rented a boat and taken her out on a cruise around the Boston Harbor. She could see how much he’d missed it when Henry came back from the Enchanted Forest a few months after the curse had broken, with the Jolly Roger. It was the least he could do after having lost it in the first place, Henry had said as if it were no big deal (although Alice saw him patching himself up later on, the cuts and bruises from an obvious sword fight he’d had to endure to get the Jolly Roger back).

The first time Killian took them out on the water, he dressed himself in his full Captain Hook ensemble. Emma had laughed an almost girlish laugh and blushed, something that horrified both Hope and Henry, but Alice thought it was cute. Henry may have been there for their parents' romance originally, and Hope may not have cared much for it, but Alice loved finally having two parents that were so hopelessly in love. Although, Alice wished her Papa had a few more buttons done up. She supposed that was just the fashion for pirates in the Enchanted Forest.

Their first trip happened the following spring. Killian spent the entire winter fixing the Jolly Roger up on the weekends (when the weather permitted), as he and Emma had gone back to being deputies since they’d returned. There was obviously already a sheriff, seeing as Emma had been gone for twelve years, but Sheriff Javert welcomed them back, having remembered them from before they’d been cursed, and because he felt the Three Musketeers weren’t the best deputies (too many hijinx for his taste). Regina putting in a good word for them not only as the mayor, but as Javert’s girlfriend, didn’t hurt either.

And so it became a tradition for the Swan-Jones/Mills family to take a cruise around Storybrooke’s harbor every weekend once the weather permitted.

Alice could still remember how overwhelming it had been to meet everyone for the first time; her shyness and anxiety ramping up as they’d walked down to the center of town, the orange moon hanging in the air (Alice didn’t know if she’d ever be able to see the Harvest Moon without Gothel hanging in front of it ever again). A large amount of people had been milling around, hugging each other and screaming as if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Alice guessed they hadn’t really. Even if they’d seen each other everyday, they hadn’t really seen each other. Just like their parents hadn’t known who the other was until their memories had broken through.

Alice recognized Snow White and Prince Charming right off the bat, not only from the illustrations in Henry’s books, but from the old photographs in Henry’s photo album that she and Hope loved to look through. Their parents had purposefully avoided running into them when they’d permanently moved there. Something about it being too painful to not see any recognition in their eyes. They turned around, both of their eyes glittering with tears as they had slowly approached Emma. Snow had taken her daughter’s chin in her hands, tears streaming from both of them, and then enveloped her in a huge hug.

“You found us.” Snow had cried, and Emma let out a breath she probably hadn’t even known she’d been holding as David joined them in the hug, cradling Emma’s head with his hand. The whole town seemed to applaud their reunion and the end of the curse breaking. Alice may have gotten a little teary-eyed over the whole thing.

Of course, they were just Grandma and Grandpa now. Alice still found it weird that she had grandparents, and that they were around the same age as her own parents.

“Still think you can captain this ship, old man?” Snow and David had arrived, and David never could stop ribbing Killian about how he finally looked his age. I don’t look 300 years old, mate! he’d reply, always trying to suppress a smile. Alice knew he actually liked the ribbing. Also, her Papa was over 300-years-old. Weird.

“If he’s an old man then so are you, Dad,” Emma said, coming up from below deck. She had put her hair back in a simple braid, just like Alice and Hope had, so their hair didn’t get tangled during the trip. “Here Mom, let me help you with that food.” Snow, as Alice and Hope had discovered, loved to cook, and usually cooked enough to leave them leftovers for weeks.

“Don’t worry about it, Emma.” She said, handing off some of the plastic containers to her. “Neal and Eva have everything else. They’re right behind me.” Of course, twelve years later Emma’s baby brother would be sixteen (they’d just recently celebrated his seventeenth birthday that past May), but discovering that she now had an eleven-year-old sister had been a huge shock.  I must have been pregnant with her when Gothel enacted the curse. Snow had told Emma almost guiltily.

Alice was hiding out up in the crow’s nest, a favorite place of hers. She could still see and hear everything, but sometimes the throng of her family felt suffocating. A hand clasped hers which put Alice at ease. She hadn’t even heard Hope come up. “You doing okay?” Hope asked. 

“Can you believe it’s been a year since we met?” Alice said, avoiding the question Hope had asked her. It was the cause for the festivities this weekend. While they did go out each weekend on the Jolly, there usually wasn’t this much pomp and circumstance (or food) to go along with it.

“I hated you so much.” Hope giggled. It seemed almost impossible that she could have ever hated her sister.

“Well, you weren’t such a walk in the park either,” Alice joshed back, nudging her with her shoulder slightly. 

“Girls!” Emma called from the deck, the food having been all set up buffet style. “Come on down and eat before Dad takes the ship out.” Alice and Hope looked at each other, hands still clasped and floated down from the crow’s nest. 

“Always showing off.” Regina mumbled, setting up her lasagna on the table, while Mary Margaret fussed over them like she always did. It was like she was trying to make up for all the years they’d been separated every single time they saw each other. Hope was kind of annoyed by it, never having cared for being fussed over, but Alice secretly loved it.

“Look how big you two are getting. I swear you’ve grown two inches since I last saw you. We’ll have to go shopping again” Mary Margaret gushed.

“You just saw us yesterday, Grandma.” Hope rolled her eyes as she let go of Alice’s hand and headed over to the table to grab some food.

The twins’ 14th birthday had arrived a week after they’d defeated Gothel and Mary Margaret had literally bought out the few clothing stores in town with anything that fit them. Alice had never been so doted on in her life. You realize that if we were in the Enchanted Forest we’d be getting you ready for your first royal balls. Snow had sighed during the shopping trip. She insisted for their 16th birthday they would have a ball of some sort with real ballgowns and dancing. Alice was elated and Hope was horrified. Snow had just laughed about how much like her mother she was, and that she fell in love with their father at a ball, despite everything.

They all sat around on the deck stuffing their faces with delicious food. The kids and Henry all sitting together, watching and commenting on the adults. Like how Regina and Javert fought all the time, but that just apparently fueled their fire (ew). Or Snow and David always had an eye on the other one no matter where they were. Or how Killian was always stroking a lock of Emma’s hair and she loved playing with the hair on the nape of his neck (“Do they always have to be so obvious about it?” Hope complained. “You know you love it.” Henry retorted back.). They also teased Neal about his crush on Lexi Herman (apparently the daughter of Cinderella), and how he’d spectacularly been shot down when asking her to prom a few months ago (“She’s 20. In a few years the age difference won’t matter to her.” Henry had said matter-of-factly.).

After everyone finished eating and the food was packed away in the refrigerator that was in the Captain’s quarters (August had wired up the Jolly Roger with electricity as well), Killian took the Jolly out to cruise around Storybrooke Harbor. Killian had been teaching Alice and Hope how to steer the ship. Hope didn’t seem all that interested, but Alice was thrilled (must have had something to do with the whole manipulating water powers that she had). The weight of the ship’s wheel in her hands and the feel of the wooden planks beneath her feet had brought her a sense of comfort she’d never known in her life before. Her Papa had her guide the ship once they’re far enough from land for him to worry about her hitting anything (okay, so she hit the floating dock that one time…), and he went to stand by Emma as she looked out over the water.

After the battle and the curse ending it had been like starting over again. All of a sudden Hope and Alice had been thrust into the limelight. They’d gone from being those new twins from Boston to the twins who had magic and had defeated Gothel. The daughters of the Savior and Captain Hook. Alice could no longer meld into the background like she had been and Hope now had to deal with people wanting to be her friends who were less than genuine (although, she’d still managed to find a boyfriend in Lexi’s younger brother, Ryan). Their peers hadn’t grown up with magic like everyone else in the town had and it had affected many of the children who had no idea about the Enchanted Forest; unlike the previous curse in which all the children actually had their memories restored and knew about everything. Dr. Hopper had been very busy in helping children believe their background was actually rooted in fairy tales and that didn’t make them insane. The trips on the Jolly Roger helped ground Alice (which she found completely ironic), made her feel safe, and more in tune with reality.

Finding out that she had a twin had been strange enough, but finding out she was the granddaughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, the daughter of the Savior and Captain Hook, sister to the storybook author, and somewhat adjacently related to the Evil Queen was just plain out of this world. And Alice loved their family, but never in a million years would she have dreamed that she would have the large family she’d now acquired. After everything had been said and done, Hope told her she must have been a little psychic as well, after all, she had claimed to have dreamed about many of the people in the Enchanted Forest before Henry’s book had even been published. Hope almost seemed jealous that Alice had had their family with her long before she’d even known they existed. 

“You’re doing wonderful, Starfish,” Killian said, extricating himself from Emma and coming back over to the wheel. “Why don’t you take a break and go hang out with your sister.” He ruffled her hair and gave her a peck on the top of her head. It was still a complete trip for her to imagine that her Papa had once been the notorious Captain Hook, even after seeing him in full pirate regalia.

She settled herself on a large amount of pillows where Hope and Henry were hanging out (Papa had a thing about pillows, lots and lots of pillows everywhere), but could still see the ocean. Alice could tell that Papa was getting ready to bring the Jolly back toward Storybrooke, so she leaned back and just watched the water fly by. 

“So, a year, huh?” Henry asked right as she’d gotten herself comfortable. Both Alice and Hope turned their heads toward him, smiling.

“Was it as you thought it would be?” Hope wondered. “Finding us, getting us to believe, and fighting Gothel?”

“Honestly, I had a hundred different scenarios in my head as to how things could have gone. I’m just glad we all survived it and no one got hurt. I’m just glad I ended up with my dad and both of my sisters.” Henry was almost blushing. His sequel to Once Upon a Time had been another best seller. Emma’s Story had brought his audience into the modern world while already knowing the fairy tales were true. There was even talk about making his books into a movie or television series (Alice voted for television series, she couldn’t imagine how they’d get that much information into a movie). His last book in the series was going to be published in a few months, on their 15th birthday of all days. The story of how Lianna Jones and Faith Swan (names changed, obviously) had met at camp and then had come together to defeat Gothel while the beloved town of Storybrooke had no clue who they really were. Once Upon a Time: A Happy Beginning.

“I’m glad we survived too.” Hope said, rolling her eyes. “And I’m glad we have our entire family together. I always thought it would just be us and mom, I’m glad we got the full package deal.” She laughed as she really thought about it. “Who would have guessed that my urge to want to go to sleep away camp would end with me finding my long-lost twin and father?” 

“Or that we’d be related to fairy tale characters.” Alice chimed in.

“And that we’d have magic.” Hope said as she created a green spark from her hand (green like her mother and grandmother’s eyes).

How different one year made. Last year all Alice and Hope had worried about was school and friends. Never in a million years would they have thought they would be surrounded by such a large family. Never in a million years would they have thought they’d have each other.

And at that thought, both girls stood up to look at their family on the ship (it still took them by surprise how in sync their thoughts were), the family that only a year ago they didn’t know they had. It almost brought tears to their eyes (yes, even Hope who had finally let some of those walls down to let love in). They both breathed in the salty sea air that they now associated with their father. 

“What are you two up to?” asked Henry as he watched them from his spot on the deck.

“We’re making a memory,” they both answered. They smiled as they watched their mother lean in to give their father a kiss as he steered the ship back toward the dock.

Back to Storybrooke.

Their home.

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[tired-college-student-writing]

Tim’s Secret Weapon Pt. 5

I’ve been slightly obsessed with @ozmav​ ‘s Damian Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng pairing as of late, and just saw a post that has inspired me more than anything else has in months, so I felt the need to write it

Summary- Tim has always seen the numbers floating above people’s heads, been able to perceive their threat levels with a single glance. After being a hero for so long he thought he was desensitized to seeing high numbers above people’s heads until Damian brings a new friend home. Part 1 Part 4 Part 5 (HERE) Part 6 _______________________________________________________________________ Dick got a look on his face. 

A pinched sort of look that made it look like he was thinking something over intently.

It was a look that filled all of the Bats and anyone that knew him from his Robin days with a sense of dread.

“Dick…” Jason drew out slightly, “What are you thinking?” 

“I’m going to do a thing,” He replied almost offhandedly, “Since she hasn’t seen us yet.” 

“Don’t-” Damian didn’t even finish since Dick had already disappeared, causing Tim to bury his head in his hands. 

“God that’s annoying,” The other three found themselves groaning in unison, their own inside joke even as found his path almost instantly.

The eldest son snuck through the crowd of teens unnoticed, surprisingly. Most would think that one would notice the thirty-year-old right outside the secondary school, but he easily weaved through the crowds and worked his way behind the baker’s daughter. 

Marinette was too involved in his conversation with the blond to notice Dick grinning mischievously at her from behind the half wall she was leaning against. 

In a swift move, the acrobat grabbed her and lifted her onto his left shoulder in one fell swoop, earning a high pitched squeal from the girl as he spun in a circle perched on the half wall and drawing almost all of the attention of the whole courtyard.

“Hello, Mari!” He greeted casually as if her hands weren’t twisted into his hair in her shock. 

She blinked down at him, taking a few seconds to register what was happening before her face morphed into fond irritation, “Seriously, Richard?” 

The blond, Neon Green 15, she had been talking to was staring in between them as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be concerned or bemused. 

“Ummmm… What’s going on?” the buff boy, White 12, from nearby asked, hand raised slightly. 

Marinette glanced around and groaned as she realized that her entire class was staring at her up on top of Dick’s shoulders. 

“Everyone, this is Dick” Marinette introduced, “He’s a family friend of sorts. Dick these are my classmates.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Dick greeted waving a hand happily with Marinette still balance on one shoulder. 

“Should have known Mari was skanky enough to get with a guy twice our age.”  The Batfam stiffened and turned to look at the origin of the voice. It was the girl Tim pointed out earlier as being dangerous, Copper 9, a wide smirk on her face as her posse snickered. None of them had to turn to feel the bloodlust boiling off of Damian, not that they would deny the red tinge to their vision. Marinette had wilted in a millisecond. 

“Told you that was a bad idea, Grayson,” Damian snapped as the other three walked over much calmer than they were feeling. 

Marinette lit back up at their appearance and started poking Dick’s cheek.

“Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down.” 

“Okay, Okay!” He laughed as he lifted her off his shoulder and passed him easily to Jason. 

Jason grinned, holding her on his hip, “Hey Marigold,” 

“Jay!” She giggled giving him a hug, “Not the brother I wanted, and don’t hand me to Tim cause he looks like he hasn’t slept this week and I don’t want to be dropped.” 

Jason clutched his chest, “That’s so mean, sunshine! Though you’re right about Tim.”    

“Rude,” Tim grumbled, but couldn’t stop the grin that came to his face, “but hug the devil spawn before he tries to rip our arms off.” 

Damian glared at him, but as soon as  Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck he softened, placing a kiss on her hair, “Missed you, Habibiti,” 

“Missed you too, Dames,” She giggled, excitement bubbling, "What are you guys even doing here? I know you don't like to travel too much." 

Jason cut in, "Bruce was inspecting the Paris branch, so we just decided to tag along." 

"Oh, Bruce is here too? I'll have to make some of those strawberry cream macaroons he likes."  

“Brothers? Wow, that’s a new low,” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Jason finally snapped, glancing over at Copper 9. 

“Who are you?” one of the other girls standing with her, an obnoxious orange 5 twisting over her, asked, phone pointed at them,  “Cause showing up to a high school isn’t exactly a good look for post-college graduates, mister.” 

“Well going from oldest to youngest, He’s Dick, as Mari already said, I’m Jason, that’s Tim, and the twerp that’s snuggling up to Marigold is Damian, her boyfriend.”  

“We’re brothers,” Dick added, as the group around the two girls looked stunned while many of the others perked up. 

“This the guy you’ve been telling us about huh?” The tiny pink-haired girl, Icy Blue 13, comments, giving Damian a considering look. 

Buff White 12,  next to her smirked at them, “You do go for the lookers, huh, Nette?” 

A red-haired boy, a lavender 4, laughed softly, “I thought he’d be taller,”

“Since when do you have a boyfriend?!” Orange 5 yelped, causing Mari to roll her eyes as she finally pulled away from the youngest Wayne. 

“I’ve been telling you, Alya,” Marinette snapped making the boys blink. There was actual venom in her voice, ice pointily aimed at the other teen. Marinette never had real heat in her words, not even with the Rogues, “I started dating him a year ago, but you didn’t believe me.” 

“Two soon,” Damian piped in, looking smug at the flabbergasted group. 

“But you’re into Adrian!” 

The blond boy, Adrian, Neon Green 15, frowned, “She and I are just friends. She’s been trying to get me with my crush for the last six months? Why on earth would you think she had a crush on me?” 

Marinette shrugged, “I mean I did, but I got over it around your fourteenth birthday.” 

“Wait,” the boy got a look of realization on his face, “Is that why you always stuttered around me?!” 

“Oh my god!” Icy Blue 13 cried, “You can’t tell me you’re seriously that dense!” 

“Homeschooled Alix!” He snapped back, “I was homeschooled by a recluse!” 

“But if she’s not in love with Adrian,” The pixie cut blonde, Buttercup Yellow 3, questioned trembling slightly, “ Why has she been so mean to Lila?” 

“Perhaps,” the nerdy boy, Nerdy White 12, pushing up his glasses, “Marinette’s feeling towards Lila has something to do with the fact that Lila’s claim of having a disease that causes her to do or say things she does not mean to can only be labeled as Compulsive Lying and yet half of the class believes every story that she tells and gets upset at anyone that dares to question her.” 

“Shut it, Max,” Alya growled, “This has nothing to-” 

“Utterly ridiculous,” The blonde girl, Canary Yellow 14 over her head, cut in without looking up from her phone, “You can’t seriously tell me this has nothing to do with Dupain-Cheng questioning Rossi’s idiotic stories.”

“No one cares about your opinion, Chloe,” Lila purred with an ugly scowl, “Or is it Chealse? I can’t keep up since your mother never seems to get it right.” 

“Yeah, no,” Chloe continued, “That insult is like a year and a half too late, and I don’t have to do anything but ask questions.” 

“What are you playing at, Bourgeois?” 

Chloe looked up from her phone, eyes going to the group surrounding Lila, “At lunch, Lila was talking about her new boyfriend, right? Who feels like reminding everyone of who that was?” 

The ginger girl, Tan 4, piped up, “She’s been dating Damian Wayne for the last month! They met at a conference for her nonprofit in Achu.”  

Tim couldn’t stop the snort that escaped from him as Damian’s face twisted into disgust. Marinette’s hand covered her mouth to cover her smile but Dick and Jason didn’t even try to stop their laughter from shaking their frames. 

“Of all the fucking people!” Jason wheezed, “You pick him!” 

“Hey! Don’t laugh it’s romantic!” Canary Yellow 3 cried, tears pricking her eyes. 

“Isn’t it Rose?” Lila cooed, eyes narrowed at the laughing group, “Dami-bear is such a sweet man.” 

Chloe hummed, eyes sparkling, “I bet he is, but I have another question.” 

“What?” 

Instead of answering Alya’s question, she turned to the group that was laughing even harder, Dick and Jason were only standing from clutching to each other as they repeated, ‘Dami-bear’ over and over again. 

“Do you boys happen to still have your passports on you?” 

Tim held up a single finger as he tried desperately to regain his breath. 

“What are you playing at, Chloe?” Alya snapped after a tense moment. 

“Her point,” Damian growled, and suddenly Tim had a giggling Marinette leaning against his shoulder as the younger man stalked over “Is that I’ve never been to Achu.” 

He thrust his passport into her camera lens. 

Damian Wayne standing out from the page in stark clarity. 

"Oh that note," Tim piped in, smirking slightly as he watched her nine wavier in place as if ready to flick down. Oh, how her tower of lies was crumbling, "using the Wayne to further yourself or claiming that one of us is cheating on anyone can be considered Defamation so I would suggest that you retract any statements you've made before we're forced to talk to our lawyers." 

They didn't stick around to see the effect the pronouncement beyond the sickly color Lila turned as her whole posse turned to stare at her in disbelief. Alya looked panicked as the boys grabbed Marinette, who was practically vibrating with nervous energy and herded her towards their car. 

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Did you enjoy yourselves, sirs?"  

"You know it!" Dick laughed, as they snapped their seatbelts. 

"I hope they didn't cause too much trouble, Miss. Marinette." 

"Hello Alfred," She greeted lightly even as her shoulders pulled up next to her ear, "It's nice to see you, and don't worry, they fixed a problem for me."

Tim wanted to ask, and he could see his brothers did as well, but Marinette shook her head. 

"Can we go to where you're staying? I think my classmates are going to break out of their stupor soon and I don't want to face them yet." 

Alfred's eyes were hard in the rearview mirror, but his voice was as level as ever, "Of course, Miss Marinette. Master Bruce actually would like to meet you at the hotel we're staying at." 

"Let's not keep him waiting then,”

______________________________________________________________________ 

Telling Marinette they knew she was Ladybug could have gone in a lot of different ways, they were aware of this, and had planned for a multitude of them to try and ensure an easier time of getting the girl used to the fact that they knew and were in fact Superheros too. 

What they weren’t expecting was for Marinette to pale the second Damian spoke the words, “We know you’re Ladybug,” and flip the platter of sweets into his face, effectively cutting him off before sprinting to the window screaming, “Spots on!” 

They were not expecting a bright pink light to overtake her, nearly blinding them. 

Tim was not counting on the fact that he could see her number through the blinding light as it faded to pure white as the numbers climbed higher and higher, vanishing once they reached 99, the light fading in the next millisecond to reveal Ladybug in all her glory. 

They were not expecting her to open the 80th-floor window of their hotel suite and throw herself out of it, yo-yo catching the next building and flinging her away faster than humanly possible. 

“Well,” Jason drawled, eyeing the carnage, “That went well.”

_______________________________________________________________________

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[katherinemallory]

#6 A sign from the stars

You can find the previous chapters here: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5

In the last few days it seemed I hardly recognized myself. One Friday I stayed at the MI6 Headquarters much longer than usual, because I needed to finish all the work before the weekend. I wanted to prevent anyone from bothering me on one of my free days, so I did everything I could to make sure I didn't forget about anything. It was getting dark outside the windows, as 8 P.M. got closer, so I drew the curtains before I sat in my armchair.

I was trying to relax and regain the energy. I've just finished preparing some of the documents I had to deliver directly to M, but didn’t intend to go there just yet. I needed a short break. I waited there for 15 minutes, doing absolutely nothing, apart from listening to the cars that were passing by the MI6 Headquarters outside the window. Then I locked my office and went to the last floor.

I was wondering whether Eve would still be working that late in the evening. My assumption was that she would stay in the building as long as Mallory was there. But with Mallory... you could never know for sure. No one was fully aware of his schedule... perhaps for safety reasons.

The corridors on the last floor were empty and it felt like the whole building has been abandoned. You could hear quiet phone conversations from behind the doors, but that late in the evening it felt a bit as if the ghosts had invaded the place.

I knocked on Eve’s door twice, but didn't hear that welcoming voice in response. I was extremely tired, barely could see anything with my eyes, and I wanted to go home so badly, that I ignored the basic savoir-vivre rules and went inside even though I had not been invited.

There was no one sitting behind Eve's desk. The lights were off, and with all the important stuff left on the desk I felt like a burglar.

Great, I thought. There is no one around to assist me. I can't leave these documents here, not making sure they would go directly to Mallory... but I can't step into his office either if he's not here!

To me it seemed like he wasn't there. The omnipresent silence suggested that the office was empty, but I didn’t have much choice. Damn it, I'm going to check if the door is open...

I placed my hand on the doorknob and pushed the famous maroon door. To my surprise, the door has opened, but no one greeted me, which meant I've just broken into M's office.

The interior looked quite mysterious. Just as in the previous room, the lights were off, but the office wasn't covered in total darkness, as someone didn't draw the curtains next to the M's desk. The city lanterns’ light was trying to reach the book shelves behind the desk. For a moment I wondered what kind of books does my supervisor enjoy the most.

I went straight to his desk, my moves being extremely clumsy. The only thing I had in my mind was to do it as quickly as possible and leave. 

When I stopped in front of the desk and placed the documents on it, I felt my heart *racing* in my chest. I tried to remain calm. Calm down, Kath. You *had* to deliver this directly to Mallory... and you just did it. Calm down. There's nothing wrong with you being alone in your supervisor's office. I had trouble with convincing myself of that. That is probably why I didn't hear someone coming inside.

I didn't hear the footsteps. I realized that someone has joined me only seconds before being hugged from behind. I felt the warmth of a man’s body.

"Someone has broken into her supervisor's office?" whispered a pair of lips that gently kissed me on the neck, refusing to wait for my response.

A familiar voice had come from the lips that kissed me. I knew exactly who that man was.

"I came to bring you... the documents... you had asked for... earlier today... sir," I said, staying still: having M's desk in front of me, and unable to see the face of the man who was still holding me in his arms.

"Thank you, Katherine," he replied, while he moved his hands to my waist. "But it would be a waste of time... to come here only to bring me documents."

He kissed my neck once again, this time more predatory, and turned me around.

At first, I only saw his silhouette in the office's darkness, but soon recognized Mallory's face thanks to the dim light coming from outside the window. I was both astonished and thrilled, and, as a result, unable to move. He held me tight in his arms, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I *couldn't* wait any longer," confessed Mallory and smelled my hair. "Since your first day in the section I've been thinking about you..." he made a pause and hungrily glanced at my lips. “So I stepped in when I saw you here. I just hope..." he whispered, "... I just hope you're okay with that."

I couldn't believe my own ears, but I knew exactly *what* I wanted to do and *how much* I wanted to do it. I seductively bit my lower lip and then slowly raised my right hand and caressed his cheek, admiring his face for a brief moment.

"The feeling's mutual, sir," I said breathlessly and kissed him.

My hands laid on his chest, impatiently exploring his body in the dark. He continued to kiss me passionately as he lifted me onto his desk, while I started to unbutton his shirt. We got lost in the moment completely: he, caressing my hair and my back, and me, sitting on his desk, with my hands taking off Mallory's braces...

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

I opened my eyes, as the alarm clock rang. I looked around, expecting Mallory to be lying in my bed next to me, but I was the only person in the room. So, that was only a dream... such a shame, I thought, as I touched my neck as if I were a man who intended to kiss me. 

I wasn't in the good mood. Who would like to come back to reality after such a night? But I got out of bed to turn the clock off and to check my phone. Still no response from 007... You have really screwed this up, Kath.

I wasn't sure how many days or weeks have passed since my failed mission and the infamous conversation I had with Bond. I stopped to count them.

The life in the double-0 section has slowed down, but there was one thing to look forward to. All of us had to attend a one-on-one meeting with M who has been trying to figure out if there's a leak in the section.

I looked at my wall calendar only to discover that today was the day of mine "interrogation" with Mallory. Maybe that's why I had such a spicy dream tonight... cause my heart gets crazy before our every meeting... And let’s be honest Kath, your subconscious wants him *really* badly. 

The truth was that I missed Mallory dearly, as I haven't ran into him in the recent days. It was an uncomfortable feeling - to miss someone you don’t know much about, but at the same time be aware of the fact that this *someone* makes you unable to sleep at night. I found myself regularly thinking about his mysterious green eyes and dark brown hair. I *loved* looking at him when he was giving orders to other double-0s, talking to Eve, or even just wandering around the corridors. The way he moved like seemed fairly attractive to me... Was I being ridiculous? Was I really in love with him? I wasn’t sure, but I was *craving* for my next meeting with Mallory.

I was nearly ready, drinking my everyday cup of Earl Grey and eating breakfast, when my phone rang unexpectedly. I had to stand up to pick it up.

It was Eve. Did the hour of my "interrogation" change?

"Hello, Eve, what's up?"

She sounded a bit strange, as if she was afraid to tell me why she has called me.

"Hi, Kath," she said in a faint voice. "Have you... left your apartment already?"

"No," I replied. "But I will do it in 15 minutes time."

"Well... in that case... don't leave your place then."

The way Eve said the last few words made me feel really worried.

"Why so? Eve, what is going on??" I said nervously, but determined to uncover the truth. "You sound differently than usual... did something happen??"

"Y-y-yes," faltered Eve. "Do you remember our last conversation about M when you said..."

"Yes, I remember," I interrupted her. "Though I’m not sure what that has to do with this..."

"Well Kath... I'm really sorry to tell you this, but... 003 who had his meeting before you... he tried to assassinate M."

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed and fell on the couch. I began to tremble. "He tried to do WHAT...? Is M alright???"

"He was taken to the hospital a while ago," responded Eve. "A stab wound to the left arm. 003 attacked M with a letter opener from his own desk..." she made a pause and then sighed. "It was really awful, Kath. I was behind the door and could do absolutely nothing! I didn't even know something was going on there! M must have pressed this button under his desk to signalize emergency... the guards came into the office very quickly and took 003 to the isolation room but... M's arm has been already covered in blood. When I saw him I nearly fainted... and then I thought of you... since you feel something for him..."

"How serious is his injury?" I asked immediately, being surprised by my ability to remain rational.

"I have no idea, Kath. But I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you so much Eve... I really appreciate that you've called me..."

I suddenly realized that something was not right. Again, I was surprised by the fact I was able to think straight in such an emotional situation.

"... but Eve, why you've told me to stay home? I can come to work and continue with the documents..."

"No, Kath, I'm sorry, but you can't," she said. "003's last mission was set in that area in Australia where Abbruscato wanted to buy mines... and since you and Amanda were both so close to him... you're first ones on the list of suspects. I'm sorry, but..."

She didn't have to explain this to me. This is how the world of espionage looks like.

"... but we're under arrest," I said calmly as I opened the curtains, and looked through the window to see the street. "The guards are coming right now, aren't they?"

"Yes, they left a while ago. They will stay at your door until the investigation's over."

I became quiet. 

"Katherine, are you still there?"

"Yeah...” I answered, staring at the street and tucking the hair behind my left ear. “Thank you, Eve. Thank you so much," I said briefly and I hanged up.

After a while, I was sitting on my couch, looking on my cup of cold Earl Grey. 

I didn't want to talk anymore. To anyone.

Just as in my dream, I couldn’t move. It seemed like I lost the ability to feel anything because of the unexpectedness of the news. If someone came to me and wanted to hurt me in any way, I wouldn’t care at all. I just wanted to know how’s Mallory.

So this was the real meaning of my dream... It was a warning. A prediction. A telepathic sign from Mallory? A sign from the stars telling me something terrible has happened to the man I love?

Wait, did I just think that? Did I just call Mallory the man I *love*?

***

To be continued.