#i just mapped out the rest of the fic in a little work notepad

[rainbowcolored7]

Oh... oh no. This fic is bringing me back into my 'take it just in case' comfort item era. 😳

[caspercryptid]

I am on the edge of my seat to see what happens next in your vampire ford/Billford fic! Really awesome work <3

Thank you <3 Ask and ye shall receive. << Part 1 < Part 2 Requests still open, all request fills I've finished are posted saturday, love and light. Remember you're free to request follow ups since this is just gonna keep going and going and going. ____

Bill wasn't quite sure how he felt about fear.

Pain, now. Pain was hilarious. He was grateful even in his new body that his pain sensors seemed to be wired to his pleasure sensors. That was probably a design flaw, but it was one he was very happy with. He considered it jailbreaking his fleshsack to do more fun stuff with it outside the manufacturer's guidelines.

Fear had some perks-- it was...fun? pleasurable? He wasn't sure how to describe it. It made everything more intense. He knew that was normal, for mortals, that their dating television shows deliberately took people on high stakes adventures to make them fall in love faster. but he didn't think he was falling in love. That was a much simpler emotion, in some ways. Sure, okay. Maybe he was in love with Ford Pines.

Currently, though. he was mostly just. terrified of him.

He wasn't quite sure what it was about Ford that was setting his (boring, flat tipped) teeth on edge. He seemed much the same as always, except for the addition of the teeth. He's still clever, enthusiastic, always scratching in his notepad. Since they've gotten into the ship he's explained twelve different things completely unnecessarily. Same old Ford. He's still--

It clicks as Bill's watching Ford step back from a panel and watch the sky pass by. Ford is still. Ford isn't pacing, twitching, fidgeting. Ford is moving with a casual cold confidence. There's no hesitation. Every single movement he makes is precise and deliberate, not once since they've stepped into the ship has Ford reached for something and missed because he was looking somewhere else.

uh-oh.

There's something....wrong. About this. Maybe it's just the uncanny valley of someone he knows as well as he knows himself being different. He'd settled in Ford's mind, watched from behind his eyes. He knew Ford's movements perfectly. He had him mapped out like the stars. But not this Ford. This was a layering of something on top of the man he knew, the image just slightly distorted.

Ford catches him staring and tips his head a little.

"Are you alright?" He asks. "Never better!" Bill says, "Nowhere else in the galaxy I'd rather be than heading home."

He tries not to think about how true that is.

Ford smiles as he turns his head back towards the dials, adjusting them and setting in a destination. Bill's almost embarrassed that he has no idea how the navigation system of this machine works, but he thinks even if he did he'd be too busy watching Ford's fingers to pay much attention.

He's missed those hands. There was no one else's like them. Sure, other people might have that birth defect, but Ford's hands-- the strength of them, where his callouses are--

Bill gets a little queasy. Would Ford's hands have changed? It shouldn't matter, Ford would probably never touch him again. But somehow it did.

"Are you tired?" Ford asks, tone casual.

Bill realizes that he is-- stupid flesh sack weaknesses again. he wonders how Ford could tell-- he's still looking at the controls and not at Bill. He ought to find it creepy, but somehow it's just charming.

Bill opens his mouth to lie, but a yawn catches him off guard. Ford snorts. "There it is," He says. "We'll be travelling quite a while, you should get some rest."

"--Yeah," bill says, "I probably should." "I'm afraid there's only one room, but I don't use it much," Ford says, turning away from the controls and leading bill down the hallway-- his boots making deliberately-paced taps on the metal floors.

Bill is too caught up in thinking about sleeping in Ford's bed to mock him for timing his steps. It'd been so long-- The door to the room opens-- it smells like him in here, still, faint but distinct, and Bill climbs right into the bed. "--take your shoes off," Ford says, sounding amused. "--right, yep, sorry," Bill says, reminding himself. normal human. "Goodnight," Ford says, and the door closes before bill can say it back. The silence is heavy-- the door must really seal sounds, because Bill can't even hear Ford walk away.

He pulls off his boots, presses his face into the pillow. Humiliatingly, he's asleep in seconds. the last thing he hears is the ship's controls clicking.

strange, he thinks, but he can't put a finger on why before sleep claims him again.

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

The Weight of the Mask

Animan

Hey everyone! I know it's been a hot minute since I updated this! For those of you that follow me here on Tumblr, you'll know that back in December I said I would be putting this on a brief hiatus. Well, that hiatus was only supposed to be for December, while I worked on all my Christmas fics. But obviously, it ended up being a little longer than anticipated 😅. I'm sorry for the long wait and thank you so much for your patience.

I am at a very busy time in my life right now because I'm trying to switch careers and there's a lot of work I have to put into that. So updates won't be as frequent as they once were. But that being said, I promise this isn't going to be abandoned! I intend to see this (and all my other fics for that matter) through to the end.

Also, a big shoutout to everyone on the discord server for peer pressuring me to finish writing this chapter (don't worry, I asked them to!) I couldn't have done it without you guys! 💖

The Weight of the Mask (AO3)  

____________________________________________________

Acrid smoke poured out of the peacock brooch, burning his throat and eyes as he stumbled back. Over the sound of his own hacking coughs, he heard his kwami mutter something. He didn’t know what it was, but he had no doubt it was some jab at his inability to fix the brooch. 

“Silence, Nooroo,” he managed between coughs. “Open a window.”

Once the dark smoke had cleared, he could see the kwami hovering dejectedly beside the computer monitor. Refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Why did it not work?” he demanded, glaring at the kwami. But it just stared back silently. Icy anger began to fill his veins before he remembered the command he had given his kwami. “Speak, and answer me.”

“I do not know, master. The guardians did not permit us to-“

“I know,” he snapped. “But you must know something of the things that contain your powers. Something of what is written in this book.”

“No, master, I do not. None of us do.”

The kwami wilted under his glare. With a sigh, he turned his attention away from the cowering kwami and back to the grimoire. He had translated the pages that described the process for repairing a broken miraculous down to the letter. 

He was a stickler for the details; they were where the devil hid. 

But it hadn’t worked. He spared a glance at the still smouldering brooch; he had followed the instructions exactly, even the more ridiculous ones. But then… perhaps that was the problem. 

He scanned his notes, eyes flicking back the original text at every question mark he had written in his notepad. At first, he had thought it was just the nature of magic; to call on the bizarre to fix that which was miraculous. But the more he looked…  

His teeth ached with the tension of his clenched jaw. 

How could he have been so foolish? It was not enough that the grimoire was written in an old, almost extinct dialect. It was written in code as well. 

He took in a deep breath to calm himself. He would crack the code. He would finish what he had started.

But for now… He turned abruptly to face the portrait that hung in his office and pressed the hidden buttons. 

“Master?” 

He ignored the kwami, save for a gesture for it to follow him into the elevator. The past days had been consumed with work on the brooch. It was high time he drew the heroes out into the open again. 

The code would be much easier to crack if he had their kwamis to lead him to the guardian. 

                                                                ***

Kim bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for the rest of the gang to arrive. Alya had managed to score them discount tickets because of her dad, and he was eager to make good use of the beautiful day. 

He cast a look around at the rest of the group; Max was standing beside him, using the zoo map to plot the route they would take. Alya was showing Nino something on her phone- probably her new blog about the heroes. It was pretty cool to have a blog about him! Even if no one knew he was one of the heroes. 

Ivan and Mylène were explaining their latest environmental project to Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel. Every once in a while, as they nodded along, Juleka and Nathaniel would cast glances to where Luka and Marinette stood a little ways off, deep in conversation about something. It was…odd. They looked like they were trying not to get caught looking at the two, and they didn’t really seem to be listening to Mylène and Ivan. 

But before he could point out their weird behaviour and ask Max what he thought it was about, Alix arrived. All thoughts of the weird looks Juleka and Nathaniel were shooting Luka and Marinette left his mind. Replaced with ideas of how they could kill time until Adrien arrived. 

“Hey, Alix! Do you want to-“

“No. No racing,” Alya said before he could even finish. Her hands were on her hips, and she was giving him the same look he had seen her give her baby sisters when they acted up. “The zoo is no place for monkeying around.” 

“What makes you think I was going to suggest a race?” Alya, and the others who had dropped their conversations at Alix’s arrival, all gave him exasperated looks. All except Marinette and Luka. They were still chatting away as if they hadn’t even noticed. “Fine,” he groaned. “But racing isn’t ‘monkeying around.’” He mumbled.

“Yes, it is. Especially when it’s one of your dares. Besides, my dad is already…”

Monkeying around. 

He knew he should be listening to Alya; based on the look on her face, it wasn’t good. But her words had struck a thought, and he couldn’t help but wonder… could Xuppu talk to monkeys? 

Xuppu was a monkey… kinda. Why wouldn’t he be able to talk to monkeys? And if Xuppu could talk to monkeys, that meant he could talk to the monkeys! Indirectly. Xuppu would have to translate. But still. And what if…

Could he talk to monkeys if he was transformed? 

When he was King Monkey, he had Xuppu’s power! Would that include his monkey-talking-to abilities? He couldn’t see a reason why it wouldn’t. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet again. But this time it wasn’t from impatience. Well, not entirely. 

It would be so freaking cool to talk to monkeys! But he couldn’t exactly let Xuppu out with the others around. And he couldn’t transform with them around either-

“…not enough foot traffic…” 

Foot traffic. Feet. Racing. Going fast. Getting ahead of himself.

Crap.

He hadn’t actually asked Xuppu! Max was always telling him to find things out directly from the source and to not make assumptions. 

He cast a surreptitious glance around. The rest of the group had gathered around Alya, listening intently to what she was saying. Even Luka and Marinette had seemed to notice the rest of them and joined them. They were all completely focused on Alya, whose face was downturned. That was weird. They were supposed to be having a fun day out. And all of them looked like they had just lost a race. 

But he would ask about it later. 

Right now, he had to ask Xuppu. And to do that he couldn’t have anyone paying attention to him. Or at least, not close attention. As long as no one was watching him closely, he could make it look like he was tying his shoe or something while he asked Xuppu...  

But before he could edge towards the edge of the huddle they had formed, Ivan spoke. “That sucks,” he mumbled. Ivan’s comment was met by a chorus of agreements. 

“Yeah- oh!” Alya’s face was suddenly a lot brighter, and he could have sworn he saw her gaze flicker over to Marinette. “Adrien’s here!” 

“Hey, everyone!” Adrien waved at the group as he made his way over. “Are we good to go?”

“Hey, dude!” Nino bumped fists with Adrien.

“Hey man!” he offered his own fist for a greeting fist bump, which Adrien returned. “Let’s go!” he was itching to see the monkeys. “Max, where’s our first stop?”

                                                               ***

“Huh, sixty miles an hour? That’s all?” He squinted at the sign, and sure enough, that was what it said. “I thought panthers were a lot faster than that.” He watched as the panther lounged in the long grass in its enclosure, moving at a total speed of zero miles per hour. It didn’t look like it would be going that fast anytime soon.

“You’re thinking of cheetahs. They can reach speeds of eighty miles per hour.”

“Oh.” He squinted, tilting his head to the side. “They’re not that exciting looking…” he mumbled as the panther raised its head to look at the food dish Alya’s dad had just put in the enclosure. “But check out the size of the piece of meat it’s eating!” It was giant! 

“It’s the typical diet for a feline of that size. As for their appearance-“

“Panthers are beautiful cats.” Alya’s father’s voice was hard, and he was frowning at him from inside the enclosure. “And Bagheera here is an excellent example.” 

“But they don’t have any stripes or spots!”

“Actually, panthers do have the rosette markings typical of leopards and jaguars. They are simply difficult to distinguish due to their dark fur.”

“You should listen to Max, Kim. He knows an awful lot.”

He shrugged as he looked at the panther, then turned his gaze expectantly at Max. Max gave him a long look, sighed, and then rolled his eyes. “'Black panther' is a colloquial term that refers to large felines classified to the Panthera genus. It is most frequently applied to leopards and jaguars with black coats, which is why they have the rosette markings, even if they are sometimes difficult to distinguish. Their colouring comes from differing expressions of alleles, in jaguars…”

He squinted at the panther again as Max explained something about the alleles and recessive and dominant traits. All of which he had learned in lycée biology class. And then promptly forgotten, apparently. The panther was now lazily picking at its meal, blinking slowly at Alya’s dad.  

“… however, it is recessive in leopards, meaning they are rarer in occurrence. And this panther, Bagheera, I believe you said?” Alya’s father nodded. “What makes Bagheera even more unique is the entirely black coat, which is exceedingly rare. Which makes it a shame that the zoo is replacing them with…” Max trailed off, looking questioningly at Alya’s dad. 

The zoo was replacing the panthers? That sucked. Sure they weren’t his favourites, but they were still neat. 

“Japanese macaques.” Mr. Césaire's hands were in fists, and he was glowering. “The directors think they’ll bring in more traffic. Just because they’re more active doesn’t mean…”

“They’re a kind of monkey,” Max whispered to him.  

“I love monkeys! They’re so cute, and they’re always doing cool stuff like swinging from trees! Speaking of,” he looked over his shoulder at the rest of the gang. They were a few enclosures back, taking pictures of the red pandas. “let’s go check out the spider monkeys!” 

“But the others-“

“Hey, guys!” He shouted, waving over to the group. “Max and I are going ahead to the monkey exhibit!” 

“A zoo isn’t any place for shouting!”

“Sorry M. Césaire!” Without a backward glance towards the exhibit, he made his way toward the spider monkeys. 

                                                               ***

How interesting. He had felt this man’s stress and despair grow over the past week. The thought of being separated from his beloved panther, his favourite animal to care for, had gnawed away at Otis Césaire. But it hadn’t been enough to akumatize him. 

But now, anger had joined the mix. Anger at seeing how easily dismissed the panthers were. And that delicious anger was the final straw that tipped the scales into his favour. 

He held out his hand, and a butterfly alighted upon it. Once he had charged it with his magic, he set it out into the world to find its target. 

There was so much potential with an animal lover. Especially one with a deep understanding of the more… deadly species. 

Otis Césaire, or rather, the akuma he would become, would succeed where Mr. Pigeon had failed. 

                                                               ***

He didn’t need to look down at his pocket to know Xuppu was giving him the look. The ‘you are a complete and total nitwit’ look, to be precise. He could practically feel the kwami’s eyes on him. And it wasn’t like he was in a position to argue.

He sure felt like a nitwit. 

He was supposed to be a hero. He was supposed to stop akumas, not cause them. And he had sure landed himself in a mess with this one.

People screamed as they ran in every direction, trying to get away, but they didn’t have to. The akuma was dead set on him, and unfortunately, Max as well. 

The worst part was that he couldn’t even go and hide somewhere to transform! The only reason the akuma hadn’t snapped Max in half yet, was that he was dragging him along. And the only reason the akuma had it out for Max was because of him!

He was a nitwit.

Hopefully, the others would be ok. The last he had seen of them, they were scattering in all directions to get away from the akuma. Well… most of them. He had seen Alya trying to take a picture on her phone, a look of horror on her face, before she had darted away.

Max was slowing down beside him. He could hear his best friend’s wheezing as he panted for breath. But he didn’t let go of him. He had gotten Max into this mess; he would get him out. 

Somehow. 

Tightening his grip on Max’s arm, he picked up the pace. His own lungs were burning, and his legs were screaming in protest. But a quick glance over his shoulder was enough motivation to push through. 

The akuma was hot on their heels. In the form of a panther. 

Panthers were suddenly much more impressive.  

He needed to find a place to hide Max so he could leave to transform. 

He needed to-

A whooshing sound followed closely by a thud, and a pained yowl broke him out of his racing thoughts. But before he could risk a glance behind to see what the source of the sound had been, Max’s arm was wrenched out of his grasp. 

He tried to stop. But his momentum sent him skidding forwards. And then something wrapped around his waist and jerked him up into the air. 

The next thing he knew, he was being carried across the tops of the enclosures. He could see Max, being carried by Chat Noir, a few feet away.

“You guys hold them off while we get these two someplace safe!” Multimouse called over her shoulder before she looked at him, a reassuring smile on her face and a glint in her eyes. It was the same glint in her eyes she had had when she thought up that birdseed trick. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you two somewhere safe.” 

“Uhhh… yeah. Thanks.” He looked back over her shoulder. Carapace was trying to wrestle his shield out of the akuma's jaws as Rena and Viperion dodged swiping claws. 

It felt weird. Being rescued and carried to safety as a civilian. She was his teammate. He should be helping her! To say nothing of how weird it felt to be carried by Multimouse- he knew she had enhanced strength. It was just a weird feeling being carried by someone who he had an entire foot of height on. 

“Come on, Chat, I know a good place to hide these two.” 

                                                               ***

He had not expected the safe place Multimouse had mentioned to be the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Of all the places she could have chosen, she just had to pick the place where two of the most protective people in Paris, excluding his own parents, lived. There was no way he would be able to sneak out and transform…

“…and the smell of the bakery should cover their scents,” Multimouse explained to a confused-looking Chat. She turned back towards him, Max, and Mari’s parents. “Thank you again for agreeing to hide them.”

“Of course! We know these two; they’re friends of our daughter. Now you two should run upstairs. And stay out of sight of the windows!”

Mme. Cheng was already ushering them towards the staircase that led up to the apartment when Multimouse stopped them. 

“Wait,” she looked at him thoughtfully, then held out her hand. “Give me your hoodie.”

“What?”

“Mousey, if you’re cold, you can always borrow one of my jackets-“

“It’s for his scent. The akuma is a panther; they can track animals by smell. The bakery should cover their scents while they’re here, but it wouldn’t hurt to throw the akuma off even more.” She gestured for the hoodie again. 

“Oh. Right. I still think…” he peeled off his hoodie and handed it to Multimouse as Chat continued. He had to hold back a laugh when she put it on. She was practically drowning in it. “…one of my hoodies.” 

Multimouse and Chat’s weapons beeped with the chime he knew meant a message from one of their teammates. He should have been transformed and helping them by now. It was driving him up the wall- and he couldn’t even ask what the message said because he was a civilian right now, and that would be weird. 

But based on the way Multimouse’s eyes widened, he had to assume it wasn’t good. 

Multimouse typed something, then turned to Chat. “You go meet the others. I’ll catch up with you guys.”

“What? Where are you going?” 

“To lay some false trails.” She made her way towards the door before turning back to smile at him. “Don’t worry, everything will be ok.” Then she bolted out the door and shrunk in a wave of pink light. 

                                                               ***

“What do you mean he can shape-shift?” 

“Didn’t you read the message, dude?” 

“No.” He had been with Multimouse. There had been no need for him to read the message too. “Where are you guys?”

“Still at the zoo,” he heard something crash on Carapace’s end, followed closely by Rena’s voice. 

“Viperion! Watch out!”

“The animals are outta control, dude. You’d better book it back here. We still haven’t heard from Pegasus or King Monkey.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for them.” He hung up and changed directions to head towards the zoo. 

As he drew closer, he could see animals out in the streets, having escaped from the others. Cars stood abandoned in the streets, and more than a few had crashed. 

He heard the sounds of chaos before the zoo even came into the view. The mix of screams and animals calls was hard on his sensitive ears. And the smell of the smoke billowing up from overturned food carts burned his nostrils.

 But it seemed people had caught on pretty quick that the safest place to be with all the animals out and about was in the animal enclosures themselves. As he raced through the zoo, avoiding animals at every turn, he caught sight of some of his friends in various enclosures. He didn’t see everyone who had been with him. But they had probably just been separated in the madness. 

Finally, he found Carapace, Rena, and Viperion huddled together on the roof of the penguin enclosure, hidden from sight under the massive air conditioning unit. 

“I see animal control hasn’t shown up yet,” he hunched to duck under the cover. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Controlling these animals is a no-go,” Rena sighed as she massaged her temples. “There’s too many of them, and da- the akuma, he called himself Animan, his powers made them… angrier. The zookeepers haven’t been able to help much.” 

“And if I try to contain them, it’ll only last five minutes. And then I’m a sitting duck.” 

“Well then, why don’t we just go and fight him head-on? Then he can’t make the animals angry. Problem solved.” It seemed like an easy and obvious solution to him. 

“Because-“

“We just wait for Multimouse to get back, and then we go and find him and take him down. There’s still five of us and only one of him. It’s not like he has pigeon minions.” 

“It isn’t that simple-“

“And where is she anyway?” he asked, cutting Viperion off. “She should be back by now.”

“I’m right here.” She slipped into view, sidling between Viperion and the wall, still wearing Kim’s hoodie. His jaw tightened at the smile the two shared as the rest of the team greeted her. Why did she always stand beside Viperion during team meetings? And why did it always feel like there was more to their smiles than just a smile?

He strode through the loose circle to stand beside her, draping his arm over her shoulders. “Good. Now that you’re here Mousey, we can go fight the akuma-“

“We can’t go in without a plan,” she said flatly as she shrugged his arm off of her. 

“What? Why not?” 

“If you want to jump head-first into a fight with a t-rex, be my guest.” 

He blanched. “He can turn into a t-rex?” 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Viperion sighed. “If he can shift between something as small as a mouse and as big as a t-rex, we need to have some kind of strategy. And we need to be careful when going around looking for him. Right now, we’re harder to track because of all the other zoo smells. Once we’re out in the open…”

“I have this!” Multimouse held up a can of air freshener. He barely had time to register what it was before she blasted him with a few sprays. “This should help cover our smell.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know if I need it, Mousey. I always smell as fresh as an ocean breeze.” He winked at her, but she just ignored him in favour of dousing the others with the air freshener. 

His stomach began to churn at the way she giggled as Viperion scrunched up his face, bracing himself for the air freshener. But he bit back a frown.  

No. She just didn’t realize- didn’t see what was right in front of her. After all, he hadn’t confessed to her yet. And they hadn’t had an opportunity to spend any real time alone together. Just the two of them. 

But that was easy enough to fix. He just had to make her see. 

                                                               ***

Carapace and Rena were both panting for breath beside him. Carapace’s arm was shaking from the strain of maintaining the shield around the akuma. 

His eyes flickered to where Multimouse and Viperion stood, on the opposite side of the trapped akuma. They were still beside each other. How did they always end up beside each other? Why did she never stand next to him? 

Viperion raised his hand, waving to get their attention before pointing over to a bus. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carapace nod in understanding. He didn’t know what Viperion was planning. But he was going to get in on the action. Maybe then Multimouse would pay attention to him. 

He darted forward, following hot on Viperion’s tail as he made his way towards the abandoned bus. 

“What are we going to do with a bus?” 

“We still need to tire the akuma out some more. The shell-ter Carapace has going on right now is still pretty big. If we can force him into the bus-“

“How are we supposed to get the akuma into the bus?” 

“Like that,” Viperion said, jerking a thumb towards the bus. It had been empty a minute ago. But suddenly, Kim and Max were standing in it, peeking out of one of the windows in terror. 

“What…” he glanced back over his shoulder. There was no sign of Rena Rouge or Multimouse. It was Just Carapace. And the akuma. Who was looking at him and Viperion- no. It was looking at Max and Kim. 

Suddenly, Carapace’s shell-ter dissolved. And Animan, now in the form of an elephant, was rampaging towards them. 

Carapace was racing after the akuma, but he was no match for the speed of an elephant. Especially one that could turn into a cheetah. 

“Wait for my signal,” Viperion muttered under his breath, grabbing at his arm when he tried to race forward. 

Who had put him in charge? 

Viperion ignored his disgruntled look, his eyes solely focused on the approaching akuma as he dropped into a fighting stance. “Steady…” Viperion muttered. “…and,” the akuma was almost on top of them. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. 

He launched himself at the akuma, staff raised and ready to strike. But Animan wasn’t as tired as he had thought he was. The akuma shifted from a cheetah into a polar bear in time to swat him to the side. 

He heard Viperion shout. He looked back in time to see Viperion roll out of the way of a swiping paw, with its claws extended. The akuma seemed to deliberate, for a moment, between slicing Viperion to ribbons or going into the bus to pursue Kim and Max. Its fury won out. 

Animan shifted back into his panther form and stalked through the doors of the bus. 

“Now!” 

He jumped at the sound of Multimouse’s voice. He hadn’t seen her anywhere. But all of the sudden, she was crouching on top of the bus. And she was… holding something down against it? He blinked in confusion, trying to figure out what she was doing. 

A flash of orange caught the corner of his eye. Rena had appeared out of nowhere and was holding the back emergency exit doors closed. Carapace was holding the second set of doors, halfway along the length of the bus, closed. And Viperion was holding the front set closed. 

He was readying himself to jump onto the top of the bus, to get a closer look at what she was doing up there—holding the emergency exit closed, maybe—when Carapace’s voice broke the air “Dudes! It’s working, look!”

He peered through the bus windows. Rena’s illusion of Kim and Max had disappeared. Leaving an enraged and exhausted Animan trapped in the bus. Alone. He watched as the akuma shifted from a panther to a gorilla. Animan slammed himself against the doors. But with them being held shut by the others, he couldn’t get them open. 

Animan slumped to the floor in the middle of the bus. Panting in exhaustion. He was a sitting duck. Well, gorilla. 

Now was his chance to impress Multimouse. “Catac-“ 

He was interrupted by the roar of the akuma and the shrieking sound of metal and glass being ripped apart. He and the others scrambled back as the bus was torn apart by the akuma. Animan had shifted himself into his t-rex form. Effectively destroying the bus. 

He scrambled back further, almost knocking Viperion over when he bowled into him. Viperion’s face was drawn in a tight line, and his eyes were scanning the wreckage, and the emerging dinosaur, as if looking for- the realization struck him like a blow to the chest. “Where’s Multimouse?” 

“I don’t-“

“Dudes, run!” Carapace barrelled past them, followed closely by Rena. Animan was glaring at them, already lumbering in their direction.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He was hot on their heels. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of teal that mean Viperion was also following suit. But there was still no sign of Multimouse. Where was she? He caught a glance at Viperion’s face; his brows were furrowed and his mouth was a tight line. He seemed worried too. 

Animan was definitely tired, but he was still fast. What with him having the stride length of a t-rex. His lungs were beginning to burn when Rena cursed. 

“I only have a minute left!” 

“Same,” Carapace heaved through ragged breaths. 

Viperion nodded to them. “Go, we’ll distract him.” Who had put him in charge?

“This way!” Without thinking, he veered off to the left, leaving Viperion with no choice but to follow. They raced through the streets until they came to a dead end. 

They were trapped. 

Or at least, they would be if not for his baton. 

He pulled his weapon out and was about to catapult himself onto the rooftops—Viperion would find a way to follow, they had enhanced agility after all—when a furious roar, followed by a crash ripped through the air. He whipped around, lowering himself into a fighting stance. But he froze when he saw the sight in front of him. 

Animan, still in t-rex from, was sprawled out on the ground, panting for breath. Its arms were pinned under it, and… he stood up and craned his neck to the side. There was something pink wrapped around its legs and tail, binding them so it couldn’t get up or use its tail to balance. 

“Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to catch up!” He whirled towards the sound of her voice. She had appeared out of nowhere and was standing next to Viperion. Again. 

“Glad to see you’re alright Mouse,” Viperion murmured. He didn’t miss the way he put his hand on her shoulder. 

“What took you?” He brushed past Viperion to plant himself beside Multimouse. “You almost missed all the action!”

“I figured it would be easier to do that,” she gestured towards Animan, who had resorted to roaring in pathetic indignation, “if I had the element of surprise.” She frowned as she looked at the akuma. “He won’t stay tired for long, do either of you see where the akuma could be.”

“It was on his bracelet,” Viperion said, stepping towards the akuma as if to get a closer look.

“Don’t worry, Mousey, I’m sure I can flip him so we can get it off his arm-“

“It’s not on his arm,” Viperion groaned. “Look.” He followed Viperion’s pointing finger to…

“Its mouth?” he cried. But there it was. Wrapped around one of its teeth. “How are we supposed to get it from there?” That was going to be impossible. There was no way they could get it from the akuma’s mouth without losing an arm. And he wasn’t going to-

“What are you thinking, Mouse?” He jumped at Viperion’s quiet voice. But Viperion ignored him, his gaze trained on Multimouse. Of course. He glanced to where she was, but her eyes were darting around. As if looking for something. 

A flash of… something sparked in her eyes, and she was off, scurrying towards an abandoned tow truck. A minute later, she was back, carrying-

“What are we going to do with a carjack?” 

But she ignored him, looking instead to Viperion. “Have you used Second Chance yet?” When he shook his head, she smiled. “Good,” she muttered, almost to herself, “Start it now.” Once Viperion had obliged, she nodded, a determined look in her eyes. “Give me three minutes, and if this doesn’t work, reset.” 

Without another word, she took off, racing towards the akuma head-on. Ghostly purple flashed in front of Animan's eyes, and its gaze narrowed in on Multimouse. But she didn’t stop. Instead, she threw herself towards it. And disappeared into its open maw.

“No!” He flung himself forward. He would destroy Animan. “Catacl-“

“No!” Viperion grabbed him by the arms, hauling him back. 

“What are you doing? He just ate Multimouse-“

“She said to wait.” 

How could he not care? That monster had just killed her and he- “Reset the timer!”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” He tried to pull himself out of Viperion’s grip, to throw him off of him. Viperion grunted as he landed an elbow to his stomach, but he still didn’t let go.“How can you just-“

“Trust her.” Viperion’s voice was tight and laced with anger and impatience. 

“How can you just-“

What sounded like a hoarse squeak, coming from the direction of the akuma, cut his words off. He pulled his attention away from Viperion to look at the akuma. Its eyes were wide, and its mouth was opening. Slowly. And… incrementally? 

Viperion’s grip on him went slack, and suddenly his teammate was pushing past him, striding towards the akuma. He had to hurry to catch up. When they were only a few meters away, Multimouse slid out of the akuma’s half-open mouth, clutching the bracelet.

“That,” she said, straightening up to look at them, “was disgusting. Don’t ever let me do that again.” 

“I’m not planning on it,” Viperion laughed as he hugged her, despite the fact that she was covered in-

“Dudes. Is that dino spit?” 

He shoved down the uncomfortable feeling that had begun to churn in his stomach the second Viperion stepped towards Multimouse. Turning, he found Carapace and Rena standing a few feet behind him, staring at the three of them. 

“Yeah,” Multimouse, said, wrinkling her nose as she tried to wipe some of it away. “I’m going to need a long shower after this. But at least we got the akuma,” she added with a smile. 

“That’s great,” Rena sighed, relief heavy in her voice. “Let’s break it and get this over with.”

Multimouse moved to break the bracelet but hesitated. “Who’s going to purify the akuma? We should decide beforehand so…” she trailed off, suddenly looking timid. It was a cute look on her. “We don’t want it to get away while we’re trying to decide,” she finished quietly. 

It was probably a good idea. But he was not going to be the one to do it. Memories of Multimouse’s sunken eyes, dull with exhaustion, and sluggish movements flashed through his mind. Nope. There was no way he was going to purify it. He wanted to go out for a joy run tonight, after the stuffy company party his father was forcing him to attend. He wasn’t going to give that up. 

He looked expectantly at Rena and Carapace, but neither of them seemed excited to offer themselves up either. 

Multimouse sighed, “I guess I’ll-“

“I’ve got it,” Viperion said quietly. The uncomfortable churning was back in his stomach at the way Viperion’s face softened when he looked at Multimouse. The way Viperion’s hands brushed hers as he took the bracelet from her made it even worse. But the worst part was the small smile she gave him. 

Maybe he should have-

Viperion snapped the bracelet as if it was nothing. A black butterfly fluttered up, but before it could get out of reach, Viperion was already in motion. “Purify.” Viperion’s lyre began to glow with a gentle white light, the same as Multimouse’s jump rope had glowed when she purified all the akumas from Mr. Pigeon. He watched as the butterfly turned from black to white as it passed between the strings of Viperion’s lyre. 

“Restore." The light from his lyre spread out, rippling through the air like a wave. Warmth washed over him as the light passed over him, healing the bruises from battle. Some of the light gathered around Animan and the cracked pavement under him, while the rest washed past them in a wave. 

Rena bolted past him, with a shout that she would attend to the akuma victim. That was fine, that left him more time to-

He watched as Viperion staggered, and then stumbled. Only to be caught by Multimouse, who steadied him with a gentle smile. Then she said something too quietly for him to hear, even with his enhanced hearing. 

“Good job, dude.” Carapace clapped him on the shoulder, his broad grin tinged with relief. “That was a pretty wicked one.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, as the churning in his stomach wrapped itself around his insides like twisted tentacles. 

                                                               ***

“Master?” he ignored the kwami’s trembling voice and the way it flinched as he strode past it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see it trailing behind him as he made his way to the elevator to his office. 

Once at his desk, he pulled out the nondescript black leather notebook he kept stored in the false bottom of a locked drawer. Flipping to a fresh page, he dated it and began to take down notes. 

“Master…” the kwami had settled itself near his computer monitor, half-hidden behind it. “Are you alright? I know after the last akuma-“

“On the contrary,” he mused, as he continued to write down his observations, “every defeat is a victory in and of itself. Let them think they are winning. With every battle, I learn more about them. And what will eventually lead to their downfall.” 

____________________________________________________

The reference I used for Max's panther lecture.

https://www.britannica.com/animal/black-panther-mammal

[killian-spey]

Death Would Be Kinder [Prologue]

Next Ch.

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 1591

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad.

TW/CW: violence

AN: Idea came from @prose-for-hire ‘s submission to the fic title game. It's a tad different from the original concept, but I just had so much fun with it! (Planned to be somewhere between 5-10 parts.)

It was Buffy’s 17th birthday today, but the mood seemed too heavy in the car for any giggling between the two of you. Truth be told, you both had a lot on your minds; not that you would have actually told her anything about your problems. You were staring out the window, picking absently at some dried paint on your arm; you never were able to master being tidy while you painted. Your older sister, Jenny, was driving the two of you to The Bronze, where the rest of the group was lying in wait to surprise her with a birthday bash. You made eye contact with her when she looked through the rear view at you, and you could tell she was just as worried as you were about recent developments.

Your Uncle had come into town recently and berated the two of you for letting Buffy and Angel get so close. Unfortunately for you and Jenny, if something didn't change quickly, Angel could lose his soul. All the work of your ancestors taken to curse him would be undone, and there would be no way to fix it. It's not that you wanted Angel to be unhappy, but the vengeance curse against Angel was not only important to your people, but possibly the thing that kept him from being a monster. If anything jeopardized that, it would crush Buffy and the gang. You didn't want to let anyone down.

Jenny pulled into the side street -having arrived at The Bronze- and you undid your seat belt. Before you could open your door, Buffy pulled your hand away from the handle.

“This looks funky, stop for a sec.”

You and Jenny both squinted, trying to see what she was even talking about. It took you both a moment, but sure enough there were two vamps clambering around on a truck in the shadows. Jenny tried to talk Buffy out of fighting them, but she left anyway. Something about destiny and all that. You were just impressed she could see that well in the dark.

Watching Buffy fight the vamps left you wincing, pitying the undead for having to go through such a beat down. You hung on the edge of your seat and leaned on the passenger seat in front of you. The two of you left in the vehicle hadn't had a chance to talk in private since Uncle had spilled the beans on the Angel problem.

“What are we going to do about the curse, Jenny?”

She made a face and shook her head, she didn't know what to do either. She knew more about the curse than you did -magic was never your strong suit- and if she didn't know, you both were stuck.

“If only there was a way to separate them.” You were spit-balling.

“Right, and how do you suggest we do that?”

She had a point, Buffy and Angel had been practically attached at the hip recently. You opened your mouth to speak, but paused as Buffy tossed the last vamp through a window into The Bronze. You and Jenny both made reactionary sounds that could only be summed up as “Yikes noises” and scrambled out of the car. Buffy hopped through the broken window and you both inspected the window. Jenny picked up a crate one of the vamps had been carrying and carried it inside.

After some pleasantries and some “Yeah, sorry! Vampires exist” talk with Oz, the group crowded around the mystery box. It was no secret that those vamps were Spike’s men, so whatever it was, it was definitely not good.

Your worry was confirmed when an arm shot out of the box, strangling Buffy before she and Angel managed to rip it away from her throat. According to Angel, it was the arm of The Judge. That meant Spike was building a one-man-apocalypse like some kind of demonic Lego figurine.

You glanced at Jenny, trying to communicate your plan silently as you addressed the group. “Someone has to take this thing as far away from here as possible- separate it from the other pieces.”

Jenny was quick, immediately understanding your idea.

“Angel, it has to be you. You're the only one who can protect this thing.”

It took a little convincing, but a plan was soon agreed on. You and Jenny shared a “Thank God” glance, secretly pleased that Angel and Buffy would be separated, at least temporarily. You could rest easy in the fact that Angelus wouldn't be loosed on the world in a freak accident of soul-losing proportions.

Or so you thought...

A couple hours later, you were back in the library doing research. Angel and Buffy had lost the box, and had everyone regroup to study up on The Judge.

To be entirely honest, you were doodling in your notes. Every text on The Judge said exactly the same thing, sometimes even verbatim. The Judge cannot be killed by any weapon forged by Man. It was exhausting!

Luckily for you, Buffy decided to break up the research with some good old fashioned recon, and Jenny suggested you go with them. Buffy was about to protest, but you cut her off.

“With the exception of you supernatural folks, I do have the best track record of holding my own. No offense, guys,” Xander seemed less than pleased with your not-so-subtle brag, but you continued anyway. “And, I’d be able to map parts of the facility super quick and easy. We’ll need that info if we plan on making a move.”

Reluctantly, Buffy and Angel agreed to take you with them and you snatched your notepad and pencil from the table, glad to be free from the texts and tomes… Even if it meant putting you in direct danger. You briefly wondered if maybe you shouldn't see a therapist about that someday, but shrugged it off as the three of you left the building.

---

Upon reaching the factory, the three of you climbed the fire escape and ducked into a broken, old window over a set of rafters. You had already begun sketching the layout of the rooms as you took in the sights below. It looked like some kind of party, to be plain. Vamps were crawling all throughout the place, a crystal bowl of what looked like punch rested on a table covered with cups in the middle of the warehouse space, and tall lattice-backed chairs were loosely strewn around a banquet table. You and Buffy creeper ahead on the grate walkway above it all. Your eyes were locked on the party, but you could assume Angel was following behind; he was too quiet for you to hear.

Your eyes fell on Spike, he was in a wheelchair. He seemed to be enjoying himself despite his weakened state, talking to someone just out of your line of sight. Not a second later, you saw Drusilla dancing her way across the floor, swaying to her own beat and sweeping the red chiffon ribbons of her dress through the air. Buffy gasped softly, but you didn't see whatever she'd seen.

“That's him. The Judge,” Angel whispered from behind you both and pointed.

You saw him, just as he craned his ugly blue head up to spot the three of you gawking. Fuck.

You spun to face the window, finding two vamps in the way of your escape. Buffy and Angel had flanked you from both sides, but fighting this many vamps was completely futile. Before long, the three of you were dragged in front of Spike, Drusilla and The Judge. Spike rolled his chair forward to get a better look at Buffy.

“Well, Well- look what we have here! Crashers.”

“I'm sure our Invitations just got lost in the mail,”

You almost rolled your eyes at Buffy’s one-liner. How she managed wise-cracks at a time like this was beyond you. Ignoring the monologues, your eyes darted around in search for an escape method. Nothing came to mind, but when you turned back into the conversation, Drusilla’s eyes had locked with yours.

She was ever so slightly swaying to music you couldn't hear and your eyes followed her intently. She raised two fingers, pointed at each of your eyes and gestured to her own. She beckoned you. She was enchanting. Beautiful. She was- she broke contact as Buffy suddenly made a move and you took a second to follow suit, twisting out of a vamp’s hold and knocking him -and accidentally yourself- off balance. You were suddenly unsure of your footing, almost groggy as you fought.

Angel pulled a chain, crashing a pile of video monitors you hadn't noticed down from their perch onto The Judge. The three of you scattered. You ducked behind some crates and heard Drusilla call for the lackeys to chase. You spotted Angel and Buffy slipping into a sewer drain and psyched yourself up to book it twenty feet to get there to join them. You took one last look behind the crates -Drusilla locked eyes with you- and you booked it, not entertaining her gaze this time.

As you dropped down the sewer drain, you caught a glimpse of her, just staring at you. You scanned both directions of the sewer system, but found no trace of Buffy or Angel. In a split second you picked a direction and ran. You didn't stop running. Not for breath, not to look behind you, and certainly not to entertain the nagging memory of Drusilla’s eyes, staring into your soul as they'd done just minutes ago.

Read Next Ch.

[revolutionnaire-farouche]

A Movie Script Ending (Enjolras x Reader)

I don't own the gif!

Summary: Modern!AU Just another day at work in the café, but with a different ending

Warnings: None!

Notes: Sorry for my inactivity lately! Here's a new fic, and thanks to the lovely @writingsoftheloser as usual for proof reading this, and being awesome ♥️ Enjoy!

The sun was already setting on the city, and that marked the start of your shift. Most of the people you served were regular customers, new customers are only for the morning and evening shifts. You really liked working in that cafe, it was a nice environment and it allowed you to meet new people - besides the money was really helpful.

You heard the door opening and you quickly recognized the group that was entering; you knew they called themselves Les Amis de l'ABC, they were nice and they usually gather there to design pamphlets or just to make plans for the upcoming protests. They were regulars too, so you knew their names. And you had to admit you really liked them, they were a relief between all the elderly people that attended at that hour and they had some pretty faces to see too. Especially Enjolras, the blond one. You only shared some small talks with him because he used to came alone sometimes, but there was something about him that was charming to you. But you didn't want to look creepy, so you never pushed it any further.

They chose a table and once they were all settled down, you grabbed your notepad and approached them.

"Mademoiselle Y/N! It's always a pleasure to see you" Bahorel quickly greeted you, as he saw you coming.

"It's a pleasure to see you all as well. I was wondering where were you." You smiled at them, before grabbing the pen you kept in your pocket, "So, what can I get you?"

"A café noir, please" Grantaire said.

"Yeah, make it two" Éponine added after a little hesitation.

"Bossuet and I are going to take two iced coffees" Musichetta said after talking with Bossuet.

"I think I'm going with a decaf, please. I want to sleep tonight" Courfeyrac said after hearing all his friends asking for coffee.

"I think I'm going to have a green tea" Combeferre said. He was the only one to actually check the menu.

"I'd like a tea too" Marius added.

"Three teas then, please" Joly said.

"Uhm...I like the idea of the tea too, but do you have something like an earl grey?” Jehan asked, to which you nodded yes. "I'd go for that one then"

"Just a café filtre, please" Feuilly said.

"A caramel latte" Cosette added, almost in a giggle.

"Alright. Then two noir coffees, two iced ones, one decaf, three green teas, one earl grey, one coffee filtre, and one caramel latte..." You said while writing everything down and repeating to yourself all the orders in a whisper, noticing one of them was missing "Oh! Enjolras, you want the usual? Café crème?"

"Uh, yes. One of those, please" He looked like his head wasn't really there, so it took him a few seconds to answer and he just quickly looked away.

"Great. I'll be back in a few minutes" You said before leaving, to which all of them thank you in return.

In the minutes you were on the table, if you had payed attention, you would have seen Enjolras smitten while looking at you. Maybe you left that one pass, but his friends surely didn't.

"So...is this the time you're going to ask her out?" Grantaire asked, smirking to Enjolras.

"What are you talking about now?" Enjolras answered, while returning to his usual stoic face.

"You've been looking at her like that since you met her, maybe you can talk to her about something more than coffee" Grantaire winked at Enjolras, to which he glared at him and although he didn't want to be obvious, his body betrayed him with a slight blush on his cheeks and nose.

"Aw, you actually like her!" Cosette said while watching the situation totally delighted, softly pushing Marius to make him pay attention.

"I don't. Can we talk about the thing that got us here in the first place?" Enjolras said while massaging his forehead.

"I think the thing that really got us here in the first place was your love for her, and the stuff that we have to discuss is just an excuse" Éponine added, trying to throw even more fuel to the fire.

"I totally agree with 'Ponine" Grantaire said while pointing at her.

"I'd really wish you both put the same emotion about my feelings to the actual cause" The blond added, making the pair laugh.

"She's pretty, I don't blame you" Bahorel added while shrugging.

"Ok. That's it. End of the subject." Enjolras' patience was reaching its limit, as he took a notebook out of his backpack. He also took out a few notes where he had written down the ideas for the new pamphlets and what to take to the next protest.

They discussed what subjects to talk about, and they even had a map to mark strategic zones where to be. Behind the counter, you were preparing all the orders the fastest you could, while another co-worker was attending the other two people in the café that night. After a few minutes you had all the orders ready, but you realised that you had to make two travels to the table to get them all there. You took the firsts 6 cups and headed towards the group.

"I'm back with a caramel latte, two iced coffees, and three green teas" You serve each one their cup, receiving thanks and leaving your tray empty. You winked at them after saying: "I'll be back in a sec with the rest"

"Ask for her number" Courfeyrac quickly said after you had left the table.

"What!? No! Just shut up about it" Enjolras was bright red, he was afraid that you were listening to all those things and they made you feel awkward. Besides, even if he normally looked confident, when he was close to you, he felt all that confidence fading away, which scared him a bit.

"Here's the rest" you said while walking to the table with a smile on your face. Once you were there, you saw all of them smiling and Enjolras trying to hide his face in his hand, which you find kind of odd but you just served the drinks without asking much. "Do you need anything else?"

"Well, now that you ask. My frie---ouch" Grantaire was interrupted by a kick under the table that surprisingly didn't came from Enjolras.

"Don't listen to him, he's just messing around. We're fine, thank you very much, Y/N" Cosette quickly said, before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Uhm. Right...If you need anything I'll be right there, behind the counter" you said while leaving the table, thinking about what had just happened.

"Enjolras is right. We should leave him alone, and we have another issues to discuss" Cosette said with a serious tone, grabbing the notes that Enjolras left over the table.

"Finally. Thank you" He answered with relief, while the rest of them was looking at Cosette with surprise.

After that, they all just kept planning. One hour passed before they were starting to leave; it was already really late. You said goodbye to the ones that were leaving when they approached to pay you. In the end, only Enjolras, Cosette and Marius where left, but the couple was already grabbing his things to return home. Before leaving the table, Cosette wrote something down. When they came close to you to pay for their drinks, Cosette gave you that same note, winking at you. When you read it, you couldn't hide the big smile that was forming in your face, kind of wishing that it wasn't just a joke.

A few minutes passed by, before you reach the table one more time to pick up all the empty cups. Only Enjolras was left at the table and now he was going through the new ideas he had written down. When he saw you getting close, he felt his heart starting to beat faster and because of that, he tried to keep his eyes on his papers. Unfortunately, it was more difficult than he had imagined. You were already there, carefully picking up the cups that were on the table, looking at the man there at times. After struggling with your nerves, you decided you would talk to him.

"Your friends left you alone?" You said while grabbing the lasts things of the table. He quickly looked at you, making you think how lame that was, but those thoughts vanished when he smiled.

"Yeah, they have other things to do. I've work for a few minutes more" He answered, looking at the papers on the table. "You finished your shift?"

"I see..." The table was all covered in notes, maps and drawings; it was hard not to notice them. Then you shook your head, smiling. Your tray was already full with the empty cups. "No, not yet. I have a few minutes more here, too. Until the shift changes again...and I actually don't have more things to do."

"Would you like to join me? I mean, if you want to and you don't have a lot of things to do I could make you company until you're finished..." He stopped himself before starting o talk gibberish, but he felt like he already screwed it.

"I'd love to.” You bit your lip, trying to hide a smile. All the fears that he had felt vanished when he heard your answer. "I'm just going to leave the tray and I'll be back in a second"

While you were leaving the tray on the counter, both of you started thinking about what you were going to talk about, which mixed with the nerves of the situation. When you finished on the counter, you returned and sat in front of him, biting your lip. He, on the other hand, brushed back his curls with his hand, leaving his papers on one side. After a few minutes of silence, you decided to talk again.

"So...what were you working on?" You pointed at the papers with your head.

"Oh, just a few things for the next protest, you know. Where to go, at what time..." He said while looking at them.

"That's great. It's always good to plan things before going to a protest, it's never good going in blind to those things. You always have to know your rights, have a plan B... and it's actually good that you go with your friends, it's always better going with a group!" You felt like you couldn't deliver your ideas properly and that the words were leaving your mouth nonstop.

"That's...exact. Seems like you already know this." He felt like he had been right: there was something about you.

"Yeah, I used to be in a protests group. It was called the Cougourde, I don't know if you know them." The talk was going better than you expected.

"Yes, I know them. Sometimes we work with some of them, they're good!” He was trying to hold his excitement. "You aren't with them anymore?"

"No, unfortunately. I don't have a lot of time between work and studying. But it's nice to talk to someone else that still fight for the cause." A smile appeared on his face after listening to that.

The conversation went smoother than you had thought. After a topic, came another, and another. Time flies when you're having a good time. Before you could notice, your shift was over, and there was already someone to replace you. When you noticed that, you left to pick up your purse and your things. Enjolras waited for you and offered to walk with you for a few streets, since you were heading to the same side, which you gladly accepted. The night was cold, but you were enjoying that time so much you didn't feel it. But the good doesn't last forever and before you knew it, you were on your street, while Enjolras had to still walk.

"Well, here's my stop" you said slowing to a stop and looking at the man in front of you. He looked even better under the street lights.

"It was really nice talking with you." If it weren't that dark, you could have seen the red on his face, but for sure you felt the warmth of your own face.

"Same thing goes for you. But you really have to thank your friend, she encourage me to do it" you said laughing; he smiled too, but he looked confused.

"My friend?" He arched one of his eyebrows, while you took a note out of your pocket.

"Yes, Cosette. She gave me this." You handed him the note. Once he opened it, it said: 'My friend Enjolras thinks you're cute and he wants to talk with you, but he's shy', he laughed while nodding. "You didn't know it?"

"No, but I should've seen it coming!" He handed you the note again, while taking a deep breath. Then he lifted his gaze to look at you in the eyes, "So...would you like to go out with me sometime?"

"I'd love to. Just let me give you my number!" Your eyes brightened up, just like his.

You grabbed your notepad and the pen from your purse, writing your number down and handing him the paper afterwards.

"Great! Then I'd talk to you later." He looked at the paper, kind of surprised that all that just happened.

"I'll be waiting." You weren't so far from him about your thoughts of the moment. Without stopping looking at him, you slowly started to walk towards your door. "See you, Enj"

"See you later, Y/N!” He said with a huge smile, watching you walk away.

Once you were inside, he started walking home. He was thinking about talking to Cosette to thank her for that one.

[serahsanguine]

School, Sex and Subterfuge NC-17

Chapter 2 of ?

part one,  A03, 

tagging @today-in-fic

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

Notes; follows directly after the last chapter. 

****************************** 

Chapter two; Information. 

“Hello my name is Mulder, and I’m here to teach psychology. I will introduce you to contemporary research into social, development, cognitive and biological dimensions of behaviour. As part of your studies, you’ll look at the applications of psychology in a wide range of areas - from understanding the nature and causes of mental illness to investigating decision making in real life situations. As part of your course, you’ll conduct your own research.”  Mulder’s eyes locked with Scully’s instantly and she felt, even in a room full room of people, they were the only ones there. He carried on speaking, his eyes never leaving hers. She was meant to be listening to him, but instead, she was mapping his face and body in great detail for purposes she wasn’t willing to accept yet.

The lecture lasted just about an hour and eventually, Scully managed to write down a few notes to get the general idea of the class. When the lights flicked on, she grabbed her notepad and pen and threw them in her bag. Moving past some people, whom she didn't care were staring directly at her, she got out of the classroom as quick a possible. She left Serah sitting there, they would meet back at their room. Scully couldn't breathe, her chest felt constricted. They had only met a couple of times but that teacher had an effect on her. She had had never felt this type of influence, this type of attraction. With one look he could turn her world on its end.

Scully arrived at her room, she managed to control her breathing and emotions once she was alone lying on her bed. What was she going? She really liked him, but he was a teacher. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice that Serah had slipped into the room until she felt her bed dip.

“So, Dana, are you going to explain why you ran out of there like your hair was on fire?” Serah was concerned for her friend. She had never seen her act this erratic before. She looked at her friend lightly touching her arm, for comfort, to let her know that she was there for her.

“I don't know where to start.” It was an honest statement. Scully looked at her friend trying to offer some explanation to her. But she was at a loss. She stood up and started pacing the room, from window to door, back and forth.

“The beginning is always a good start.” Serah watched Scully pace and thought ‘Something’s really bothering her now’

“That's just it, I don't have a beginning. It isn't really an issue, it’s all probably in my head anyway.”

“Just calm down and talk to me, I'm here to listen.” Serah stood up and placed both her hands gently on Scully’s skin to stop her rapid walking. “I know I’m not the ideal person, but you said Melissa was touring Europe and isn't reachable.”

“Honestly, I’m overreacting. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Serah looked at Scully. She knew when her friend had set her mind to something there was no changing it, no getting her to open up. So she changed the subject. “I’m going to a party later and of course you’re invited. It’ll do you good.”  

//  

Mulder had just finished his lecture and he wanted to talk to the pretty redhead he kept bumping into throughout the day. He was intrigued by her, captivated by her beauty. He normally wouldn’t even look at a redhead, he was more of a brunette kind of guy. But he wanted her badly, and he wanted to find out more about her. All he knew was her name was Dana and with just one look from her, he could have an instant problem in his trousers. He nearly had an incident in a room full of students as soon as his eyes locked onto hers.

He was walking through the hallways. He knew he shouldn’t, but he needed some outside help. As soon as he got to the ICT department, he realised he should have known that all three of his friends would be there. They seemed to be working on their new newspaper article for two weeks time. It was called the Lone Gunman. The three men sat arguing about the next conspiracy and cover-up. They tried to find some credit every now and then, there was news portraying the school.

“Ahh hem…” Mulder stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking casual with a 100 watt smile on his face. He was laughing inside.

All three men jumped and went silent. Turning away from the computer monitor and towards the sound they heard, they let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding when they saw who was stood there.

“Mulder, my man! How are you?” Said the small bald man.

“I need you to do some extracurricular computing for me,” Mulder moved away from the door and into the room and found a seat.

“No problem, we're always happy to help. Now, what can we do for you?” The man replied, leaving some space for him. He looked happy at the prospect of his friend asking for help, it wasn’t something he did very often.

“Well, Frohike, I need you to look into some files for me.”

“And what files might that be?” Frohike gave him a questioning look but he knew he’d help him anyway.

Mulder spoke in a hushed tone now and moved his chair closer to his friends “I need you to look into a students file for me.

“Is this one of your flings? You have never asked us to look into any of them. So why now?”

“It doesn’t matter, can you do it or not?”

“Of course we can, we just need a name.” The blonde long-haired man replied quickly.

“Her name is Dana Scully, Langly. She is a redhead.” He said the last part in a whispered voice and all three men gave him a look, because they all knew his type was definitely not redheads.

Frohike and Langly got to discussing the best way to quietly hack into the school’s system and Mulder started talking to the third man.  

“Byers, how’s computer science treating you?”

“Half my class seem to be more into phones than computers but I do have some promising students in my class”

“That’s great news.”

Mulder and Byers carried on with the small talk about work, home life, the simple stuff. Half an hour had passed before Frohike and Langly managed to get the information Mulder wanted.

“Mulder! We have her information: her name is Dana Katherine Scully, she 5ft 3in. She has one older sister and two brothers, one older one younger. She comes from a military family and she has moved around a lot. Her father is in the navy, a Captain. She is studying a bachelor's degree in Medicine, this is her second year. She seems like a high achiever, so seems to be aiming for high marks.”  

If she is aiming high it will be easier to lure her into his little trap, Mulder thought, but did not voice his opinion “Thank you guys, I appreciate it.”

With that said, he nodded at his friends and walked out going about the rest of his day.   

//

A few hours had passed and Serah had convinced Scully to go to the party and take her mind off whatever was bothering her, which she still wouldn’t talk about. Scully didn’t have anything to wear, so Serah lent her one of her outfits. It wasn’t Scully’s style, it showed too much skin for her liking but she went with it. It was a short black dress with a square neck cut and it had an open back.

Scully was just putting the last touches on her makeup, she wanted to look feminine and sexy, something she didn’t do very often. In her mind, it was a great distraction from Mulder.

Serah walked in the room wearing some dark black shorts and deep red crop top. Her hair was down and in soft curls. Scully thought she looked stunning and wondered if she could never wear something like that herself.

They left and walked toward the frat party. It was a nice gentle walk, the sun hung low and the air was warm. Scully was slightly apprehensive about the whole thing. She was nothing like her friend, who was outgoing and a party girl. She had always been the little nerdy girl who would work through the night to get a good grade. The one that preferred to stay in and read a book on a Friday night. Serah kept talking to her, trying to keep her calm and get her excited about actually getting ou. If she was honest about herself, it was working, if only a little bit.

They got to the house and the music was blaring, the party was in full swing. Serah entered first followed by Scully. Serah got them both drinks, making sure they weren't spiked, and then she went migling.   

Time flashed by and Scully eventually had quite a few shots and couple beers. She even found a guy to talk to. Well, technically, he had found her. His name was Daniel and he was doing the same degree as her. He was flirting and putting on the charm. Scully was enjoying the attention. He was touching her, placing his hands on her hips, bumping and grinding with her in time with the music. The feeling of skin against skin as they danced was nice but her mind kept wandering to the tall dark and handsome man named Mulder. How his body would feel against hers, dancing with her, grinding against her. The feeling of his muscles that she had seen earlier tense under her touch. Would he have a small package, as they say, or would he fill her completely?

She was soon brought out of her thoughts when she felt Daniel’s hand try and move in between her legs. She stopped dancing immediately and pushed him away. Only then she realised how drunk she was and her imagination and inhibitions were lowered. But there was one thing she was certain of: it was not Daniel she wanted right now. It was Mulder, no matter how bad it seemed. This party was meant to get her mind off him, but that had not worked at all. She quickly said good night to Daniel and found Serah. Prying her off the guy she was necking onto, they walked back home together.

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

Scully woke up not as early as she would normally do. Her head was throbbing and the sun was not helping. She knew the party had been a bad idea but at least for a little bit she had enjoyed herself before her mind got the better of her. Serah was moving about the room as quiet as possible but she soon noticed Scully was awake.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?” Serah stopped pottering about and sat on her bed. She was dressed in some jeans and tank top ready for the day.

“Uhg, I drank too much last night. My head is killing me. How come you don’t look or feel like me right now?” Scully sat up on her bed trying to shield her eyes from the sun shining through the window. She looked at her friend and generally could not believe how awake and happy she looked.

“I don’t get hangovers,” Serah replied smiling. “I have set two advils and a glass of water on your bedside locker if that helps, and you can borrow my sunglasses for the day.”

Scully moaned again. “What time is it, anyway. You’ve never been a morning person.”

“It’s a little after 10.”

Scully gave her a look and then flopped back down in the bed. She was thankful for the lie in and thankful that her first lecture of the day wasn’t till one.

“I will see you later Dana. I got to go to class.” She left the room locking the door behind her.

“Bye!” Scully replied but Serah was already gone.

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

The weeks flew by. Mulder paid close attention to Scully in every lecture but trying not to make it too obvious that it was her that he had his eyes on. They had met several times at the gym but neither speaking a word to each other.

Scully was apprehensive about that day because everyone had their first assignments handed in. Today was the day of truths of sorts. Whether it was her imagination running wild with all the sideways glances at her or the chemistry she had felt between them across the room, she didn’t really know. Whenever she spoke, he would unconsciously lick his lips. She was wondering if he was actually going to pick her for his little side project.

So, there she was, sitting next to Serah and Mulder was walking around the room handing the papers back to his students. There were happy faces and sad faces and suddenly he was standing in front of them. He handed Serah her paper, which Scully glanced at and was impressed with her friend’s score of a B. Then Mulder moved in front of her and handed her assignment back. Their hands brushed and lingered and she swore she felt a physical spark between them. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it was going to bounce out of her chest. She knew it was impossible but it didn’t feel that way. Her stomach was doing flip flops and the nerves were making her feel sick. But she kept her face calm and stern, trying to show no emotion.

Their eyes locked, she loved the colour of his hazel eyes. They could pull you in and make you forget about everything. He didn’t say a word to her and he let go of her hand and carried on moving around the room. That’s when she finally tore her gaze off him and looked at her score on her paper: it was a C. Next to it, there was a little sticky note attached with his handwriting ‘See me in my office tomorrow at 7.30pm’.

Serah looked at her. As she saw the note she smiled. Her eyes said ‘I told you so’ so loudly she almost heard it. Scully didn’t know whether to be happy about the fact that her feelings were reciprocated, at least she wasn't going crazy. Or maybe she should be scared by the fact that he had feelings for her and wanted to see her after hours. One thing was for sure she needed her sister more than ever, she needed to talk to her. Before committing herself to anything.

[the-reverse-mermaid]

Today I took a break from actual writing and wrote a crack fic about @losingmymindtonight @caraminha @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars and @parkrstark ....um. Yep. Here’s 1k words of crack. Enjoy, my iconic ladies and all other fans of @starklovinjuice ;)

...

“Can you hear us now?” Kat says loudly and slowly, holding up her phone so the Skype cam fits herself, Shannon and Leah in the frame.

“Yes, babe,” Maren’s voice affirms over the speaker, patient as ever. “You just keep going in and out when you move the phone around too much.”

“HI, MAREN!!” Leah calls, waving happily until the girl on the phone smiles and waves back.

“Alright people,” Shannon says seriously, turning back to the sidewalk that the three Americans are standing on. “We’ve got work to do.”

It’s a beautiful summer’s day, a perfect day for the mission they have in mind: they’re out to collect research.

Not just any research, though, no no; they’re out to look for whump ideas.

First stop: the Life Science Museum.

As they enter, Shannon studiously pulls a pencil from behind her ear and chews the end, notebook in hand. She looks over the museum map.

“‘Deadly reptiles exhibit,’ sounds promising…” she murmurs.

“There’s a live animal show at 2!” Leah exclaims, pointing at a sign.

“Hang on, I lost connection again,” Kat says distractedly. She wanders off to find a better WiFi spot.

Meanwhile, in the UK, Maren spins in her computer chair idly, waiting for the call to reconnect. As she waits, she clicks through tumblr posts and cackles at the woeful reactions to her latest story update. Mmm, the tears of her readers are like a fine wine.

When the call reconnects, the video that pops up is an image of a growling canine. She furrows her brows. “Babes, what am I looking at?” she asks.

Kat’s voice is giggling. “Check it out!” she says, backing up so that the whole display is visible. It’s a predator-and-prey exhibit, and under the claws of the snarling stuffed wolf is a replica severed deer head.

A child passing by is heard: “Mommy, look, the doggie found his lunch!”

“Guys, what if Peter got attacked by wolves?” Leah gasps. “He could get, like, separated from IronDad in the woods!”

“How is he supposed to get attacked by wolves when he lives in New York City?” Kat asks thoughtfully.

“No, no, she’s on to something,” Shannon says. She brings up her notepad and begins scribbling like mad. “Let’s say Tony takes him on a camping trip, you know, for bonding and what-not…”

“I mean, I whumped Peter in the woods of NYC in my fic,” Maren interjects. “So it’s possible.”

“Maren, we can’t all be as amazing as you,” Kat stage-whispers. The two wiggle their eyebrows at each other.

When they leave the museum an hour later, the visiting families and other people sigh in relief.

Next stop is a park where they sit to eat lunch (or in Maren’s case, dinner). They’re gathered on a bench in the shade, listening to the sounds of children playing and birds chirping.

“Aww, look,” Leah coos, pointing to a Dad holding his toddler’s fingers and helping him take little steps across the grass. “Reminds me of Shannon’s de-aged Peter fic.”

Shannon smiles humbly. “You know, Leah, you could really capitalize on toddler Peter in your AU,” she comments. “Growing up with Tony as his biological dad, he’s bound to have been kidnapped once or twice as a baby.”

“Imagine if he were kidnapped and put in a tower like Rapunzel,” Maren says around a mouthful of fish and chips (British food, you know). “And he grew up thinking some abusive person were his parent, while Tony mourns him…”

“...Only to find him when he’s a teenager and bring him home for an abundance of sleepy cuddles,” Kat finishes.

“And forehead kisses!” Leah adds.

“Does he have to have magic hair in this AU, or…?” Shannon teases, but she’s already writing in her notebook.

“Please can Ned be Flynn Ryder,” Maren says, making Kat snort juice.

Last stop of the day is Leah’s house, where they’re having a sleepover that night. (Leah warns them in advance to keep out of way of the artist living in her basement… that person is dangerously unpredictable and tends to polish off the family supply of ice cream when nobody’s home.)

Kat’s phone charges nearby, still with Maren’s face showing (albeit, she looks much more ready to fall asleep than the rest of them).

As they gather in the living room, Leah displays their collection of DVDs and pulls out the most important ones (Iron Man And Spider-Man:Homecoming, of course).

“Okay, ladies,” Leah says, “which would you rather watch first?”

“IronDad first,” Kat suggests. “I like watching his captivity scenes. Gives me ideas for And You’ll Blow Us All Away.”

“I bet I could bootleg a version of Infinity War,” Shannon says slyly, “if you want even MORE ideas for the sequel…”

“That babe is too powerful,” Maren calls, yawning. “I vote yes, though.”

“Same,” Kat agrees.

“Okay, just make sure the FBI can’t trace it back to me,” Leah shrugs, sliding the laptop to Shannon to work her magic. “I don’t need to go back to jail…” (the others can’t tell if she’s joking).

They end up watching the “I don’t wanna go Mr. Stark” scene about fifty times on a loop. Nobody has dry eyes by the time they turn the tv off, except Maren, who has fallen asleep.

“Well… R.I.P. me…” Kat sniffs.

Shannon wipes her tears, looking determined. “It was for science,” she declares. “We did good things today.”

“I don’t know about you all, but I’m ready to write,” Leah agrees.

By midnight, the three US authors have added to their WIPs significantly, with Kat even posting a one-shot to the Tumblr Archives about Peter dying from the perspective of Tony later on when Peter says “I’m sorry” about something trivial after he’s back from the dead (with much input and collaboration from the others).

They’re dead asleep when Maren tries to FaceTime the next morning. The UK girl just huffs at her silly American wives and goes to get herself some tea.

Overall, it is, in fact, a perfect day.

The END.

[aenariasbookshelf]

Darcy and Jane’s Post-Apocalyptic Road Trip, part three

Continuing on from this post, the road trip adventures of a Jane Foster attempting to avoid the US Government and a heavily pregnant Darcy Lewis just keep expanding.  

Technically this fic takes place in an alternate universe offshoot of The Incrediblesverse, but you don’t have to read those fics to understand this one.  Parts one and two, however - you kinda need to read those. ;)

Infinity War spoilers ahead...

**********

"You know, I am this close to killing you right now, Steve."  Darcy rubs her head, her eyes falling shut with weariness.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Steve replies, the distant phone connection sounding fuzzy even with the advanced technology propping up the signal on Steve's side.  "There's no way we can get a jet over American airspace right now.  But we got a guy with a boat in Galveston, who can get you and Jane out to sea far enough that we can pick you and Jane up."

Darcy frowns, her hand moving to her lower back to try and rub away the constant tension there that's been building up in her hips and at the base of her spine.  "It's thirteen hours to Galveston.  And that's without stopping.  Your son keeps kicking at my bladder every five minutes, so we'll be lucky to go ten feet without a bathroom break."

Steve doesn't really have anything to say in response to that, probably because discretion is the better part of valor, but also, frankly, because it's damn true.  

She takes a deep breath, flicking her eyes over at Jane who's pacing in circles as she waits for the chat to be finished.  "What sort of time frame are we looking at to be in Galveston?"

There's a pause, like he's checking in with someone given the muffled sounds that still manage to sneak through.  "Do you think you could be there in three days?  That'll keep our window as narrow as possible for getting you out of there."

Darcy looks over at Jane again, who's scrabbling through her bag to try and find the giant book of road maps that she'd been using lately to try and stay as far off the radar as possible.  "It's definitely doable, even taking a slow, roundabout route, " Jane says, after a couple of moments and some quick mental calculations.  "We'll just have to get a bucket and some cat litter for Darcy just in case."

"Oh, fuck off, Jane," Darcy spits out, even though there's barely any heat behind it.  They've got a plan now, and that feels a hell of a lot better than just sitting around waiting for the world to end.

**********

Jane plots them out a route that avoids major highways and major cities - it may take them a little longer, but they both feel better staying away from the larger population centers right now.  "Don't worry about the car," Jane says as they work on emptying out the dry goods from the cabinets to take with them later that day.  "We'll use mine...well, it's sort of mine.  Mine now, at least."

"Jane!"

"What, it's not like Marchand's going to miss it."  Jane shrugs, looking at a box of crackers and tossing them into a carrier bag.  "He's dust just like the rest of them, and his car's got a hell of a lot better gas mileage than my old van did.  And Ross won't be looking for his plates, either, so there's another bonus."

Darcy shakes her head, focusing on the tiny little onesies in her hands that she's folding up to put in a duffel bag.  She's got no idea how long they'll be away, and as it's looking more and more likely she's going to give birth in a foreign country, it's best to be prepared.  Most of the car will be baby gear by the time they're done, she thinks.  “As long as it can get us out of town quickly, and the seats aren’t too uncomfortable, I won’t complain.”  She fits a few more onesies and some of the tiniest socks she’s ever seen in the bag, and zips it shut with a rough tug.  “Are we still on track to leave tonight?”

They’re giving themselves as much of the three days as they can to reach Galveston.  It’s more time than they’ll need going by the map, but with the state of the world outside, it’s better to not take a chance.  Between the Army Corps of Engineers setting up shelters for the people who have suddenly found themselves without caretakers, the religious zealots screaming loudly that the Rapture has happened and the world is ending, the people setting up heavily armed compounds in some more rural areas to defend against the oncoming aliens, and the assholes who just want to take advantage of the current state of lawlessness in the country at the moment, it may not be the easiest ride.

“Yes, we are,” Jane says as she hops off the counter and surveys the food that looks good for traveling with.  It’s not a lot, but if they don’t have to stop too much for food, all the better.  “If we leave by 9 pm tonight, we can make a stop at Walmart for some necessities, and can still be in Marfa by the morning if all goes well.  Then we make for the coast after some sleep and drive up that way.  We’ve got time to stop for some solid sleep during the trip, even if we end up sleeping in the car. ”

“And you’ve met the person we’re supposed to meet in Galveston?  I don’t want to get all the way down there only for this guy to turn out to be a serial killer or something like that.”  Darcy sighs, pushing some hair out of her face, feeling more frazzled than ever.  “I swear to god, the more pregnant I get the more paranoid I get.”  What she wouldn’t give to turn back the clock, where her biggest worries were related to impending parenthood, something nowhere near as cosmic as their current state.

Jane reaches for the notepad that she’s been planning out their trip on, scribbling briefly before coming over to crouch down in front of Darcy.  “Look, it’s practically the end of the world out there - you’re allowed to be paranoid.”  She takes her hands, squeezing them tightly.  “But I can tell you this for certain - yes, I know the man who we’re going to meet.  Hell, he used to be an Avenger once, even though he’s retired now.  His name is Clint Barton, and he never misses.”

By the time the sun’s set and the sky’s turned an inky blue color speckled with glittery stars, Darcy and Jane are in the car and heading for the coast, leaving the little apartment that’s been her and Steve’s home for the last few years behind.

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Storytime!

Sanders Sides Canon Divergence AU - fluff/angst - hurt/comfort - some intrigue - actually has a plot (side eyes my other fics) - largely Virgil centric - it’s about growth i guess idk

Words: 4,140 Warnings: Fire, Gross things, Fighting, Food, Teasing Characters: Virgil, Patton, Remus, Janus, Roman Universe: Storytime! Genre: Clingy Idiocy

Chapter 25: In Which They Opt to Burn Comic Books Instead of Self-Immolation

Virgil continues to be a clingy idiot tbh touch starved people rejoice

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

   Virgil woke to a gentle buzzing in his pocket. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and slowly looked around. He must have not been too deep asleep. He keeps his phone in a gentle setting so it wouldn’t startle him when D needed something. He was somehow still holding Patton on the couch. He was almost impressed with himself. Patton seemed to have woken up to the vibration under him as well, as he looked confused. Virgil gently kissed Patton’s Forehead and he smiled and seemed happy. He watched Patton yawn widely with no sound.

   “Lemme get this, Pat,” Virgil mumbled sleepily and dropped his hood, then fished his phone out of his hoodie pocket from under Patton’s legs. ‘The room is ready. Just shoot the duke a note when you leave. I will be working here alone until then.’ The message said. Attached was a map pin of the mind palace. Oh, he hoped it was Deceit’s study. Virgil loved that fireplace. He could walk right in it was so huge. Something about resting in front of a furnace of death really spoke to his inner goth. He slid his phone back into his hoodie pocket and went back to holding Patton tight.

   “Did you fall asleep with me, Pat?” He asked gently and rocked him.

   “I guess being that spooked wore me out,” Patton said with a little yawn again.

   “Believe me, I’ve been there. But I bet you’ve got other things to do today now that you’re all full up on cuddle power,” Virgil said with another gentle kiss.

   “I do, but it’s so warm and snuggly in here with you,” Patton said and nuzzled into Virgil’s chest.

   “Oh, I can fix that,” Virgil said with a laugh.

   “What do you mean ‘fix that’?” Patton asked apprehensively.

   “I can make it not warm anymore,” Virgil said and released a little chill of anxiety. Patton suddenly shivered and looked shocked.

   “Boo!” Patton whined in objection. “Wait, do you have ice powers like Elsa?” Patton asked with wide, curious eyes as he took the blanket and crawled out of Virgil’s now chilly lap.

   “I wish, but no,” Virgil said with a laugh and pulled Patton in and kissed his cheek. Virgil backed up and saluted Patton. “I’m just the boogeyman,” He said with a cackle and sunk out of the room leaving Patton wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and looking more confused than when he woke up with his hand holding his cheek.

   Virgil rose into the location Deceit sent and summoned his notepad and wrote ‘f u’ and sent it off to the Duke. It was Deceit’s study, after all, though heavily scaled back. Probably because it was near the edge of the Mind Palace. It was less of a library/study and had more empty space and empty walls. The desk and Deceit’s big wingback chair was still there, and so was Virgil’s favourite fireplace and rug. But Deceit added a black leather loveseat with side tables on either end. Virgil summoned a big, fluffy throw blanket to cover the chair, just in case the duke was nasty again. Virgil walked over to Deceit’s desk where he worked and waited. After a pause, Deceit looked up at Virgil.

   “The throw was a terrible call,” Deceit said casually. Virgil stepped around the desk and held open his arms expectantly, and Deceit nodded, sighing. Virgil came over and wrapped his arms around Deceit for a moment and kissed his scaled cheek, then rubbed his cheek to it.

   “Thanks for everything, D. I think you’re my favourite, too,” Virgil breathed and smirked at Deceit’s slight flush on the human half of his face.

   “Have you been a menace?” Deceit asked with a distracted cough.

   “The worst,” Virgil smirked. “I mostly took a nap with Pat,” Virgil added quietly. “But I think it’s nicer to sleep with something else cool-blooded,” Virgil said with a coquettish smile. “I’ll try not to rile up the duke, but I get it if you have to kick us out,” Virgil said with a nod and let Deceit go. Virgil summoned a little pile of comic books and two pairs of headphones as he walked over to the table and loveseat and dropped them on the table. He put the headphones in a splitter and hung a music player from the back of the big chair and laid back to enjoy some Batman.

   Remus landed so suddenly next to him in the loveseat that Virgil jumped up in surprise and hissed. He punched Remus in the arm who smiled widely and punched right back. A strong smell punched Virgil in the face, and he shook his head in confusion. Strawberries?

   “Ream, you chose something that smells good!” Virgil said in surprise and lowered his headphones. “Is that your way of flirting?” Virgil asked with a little breezy snicker.

   “No, my way of flirting involves tentacle ooze and me and my date ending up on fire!” Remus said with a laugh and grabbed a volume of Deadpool.

   “Well, warn a side, so I can make myself a fire-and-ooze proof suit,” Virgil said and started to pull his headphones back on. “Hey, I don’t suppose you can summon food? I can only make drinks,” Virgil asked as he dropped his headphones midway. Remus laughed and held a plate of what looked like worms and bloody goose livers. “Oh god, send that off! That’s fucking gross,” Virgil said and sputtered slightly. “What do you want to drink?… And if it’s like expired pigs’ milk or something, I’m not fucking making it,” Virgil stuck his tongue out and grimaced in disgust.

   Remus rolled his eyes. “If I wanted to drink cornea juice, I’d summon it myself,” Remus said haughtily. Virgil shuttered at the concept of juicing eyeballs. “I’ll take a rum and coke,” He said, surprisingly reasonably. Virgil summoned a highball glass and tapped the side of the rim and it filled with skull ice cubes and the drink requested.

   “I can’t make, like top-shelf rum or anything, but it’s good enough for the likes of you,” Virgil said teasingly and handed the duke the glass. Virgil summoned himself a tea latte. He paused for a moment and then remembered to summon coasters, handing the duke one and placing one on his side table to put his latte on. “If we make a mess in here, we will get strung up, so please reign in that need till you get back to your room,” Virgil asked with exasperation. Remus unexpectedly just nodded and leaned up against Virgil and started reading. Virgil took a deep breath and settled down. He was a little baffled by the duke being reasonable for once, but maybe Deceit told him to be less of a shit head in here.

   Virgil put down his comic on the side table, seeing that Remus obviously wanted to cuddle again, and grabbed and yanked Remus closer on to him, and punched him in the arm. Remus smiled widely and punched back. They both laughed and started wrestling on the couch, the duke dropping his copy of Deadpool to the ground.

   A loud throat-clearing echoed across the room and they both froze. After a beat they chuckled nervously and Virgil ended up lying across the Duke’s lap and holding himself up on his elbows to read, and the duke sat up with his legs on the table. Virgil straightened the cord on headphones and handed Remus the other pair so he could listen if he wanted. Remus took it, and Virgil grabbed Deadpool off the floor for him and passed it up. Remus also liked his music, and it was one of the few things he never made fun of Virgil for, and it seemed like it was a safe assumption that he wanted to listen after all when he slid the headphones on. Virgil focused back upon his Batman comic and they read together, listening to screaming metal music.

   Virgil had gotten through 2 volumes of Detective Comics and yawned. He reached down and put the volume on the floor with the others and stretched across Remus’s lap.

   “Hey, don’t fall asleep, purple-pus,” Remus said and punched Virgil in the back. Virgil couldn’t really punch back at this angle, so he just groaned.

   “I won’t fall asleep, ooze-for-brains, just let me sit up and get my tea,” Virgil said with another little yawn. Remus punched him in the back again and left him pinned. “Don’t think I’m above freezing your ass. I will totally do it,” Virgil warned. Remus put his Elbows on Virgil’s back and hummed a nonsense tune. Virgil groaned. “You asked for it,” Virgil hissed and let out a powerful wave of anxious chill. Remus yelped and quickly lifted his arms to warm himself. Virgil took the chance and rolled off him to get his latte. He stood next to the couch and shuttered from his own cold.

   “You bitch,” Remus said and shivered, though he didn’t look upset in the least.

   “Takes one to know one,” Virgil said and took his latte to go sit down on the rug in front of the fireplace to warm up. Remus followed him and laid down facing the fire on his stomach, kicking his legs and entranced by watching the flames dance. “You can’t self-immolate in here, I asked,” Virgil said with a laugh and laid down facing up and Remus’s back. Remus groaned in disappointment.

   Virgil rolled to his side and laid lackadaisically across the duke’s back. He sighed and resisted the urge to reach up and jab Remus in the side. He knew they’d get out of hand and stopped himself. He saw Remus’s arm outstretched, and his hand twitched parallel to him and laughed.

   “Are you trying to resist the urge to fight, too?” Virgil asked quietly.

   “I’m innocent!” He blurted and pulled his arm back. “Wait, too?” Remus asked with a chuckle.

   “Yeah, your face is just so damn punchable,” Virgil said with a laugh. “I’m already kind of feeling your intrusive bullshit and it makes me antsy,” Virgil said and got up to grab the comics to move them over. “Hey, know what’s not self-immolation but involves burning stuff? We can chuck the volumes we finished in the fire,” Virgil said and placed the Deadpool stack in front of the duke. Virgil chucked one of the completed Detective Comics in the fire and they both watched it go up quickly, the ink staining the flames as it burned through the thin pages. Remus cheered and threw another one in. All the red in the pages lit up the fireplace.

   They went back to reading, taking breaks to throw comics in the fireplace, and sometimes chatting and showing each other particularly brutal parts in the comics they were reading. Virgil knew Remus would want to see, and he assumed Remus did it because he wanted to see Virgil cringe. But he didn’t mind as long as Remus let him get in a good punch or kick for it.

   “Hey, 8-eyes, it wasn’t that scary, turn off the fucking A/C,” Remus whined as he pulled back his comic. Virgil was paralyzed on the spot. The darkness in the corners grew, and he involuntarily felt himself shake. “Deedee, Your pet spider is freaking the fuck out over here,” He could hear Remus distantly as a static sound overtaking his brain overwhelmed him. “Your pet spider also smells like it’s about to fucking electrocute me and I am pinned by it,” Remus called out again, sounding a little strangled and panicky. Virgil could feel a vague sensation pushing against him, but he couldn’t move. “Though, maybe it could be fun!” Remus’s distant cackling meshed with the voices that were even more overlapped and louder than before. He saw Deceit walk over and Virgil’s mouth was too dry to speak and tell him it started.

   Deceit reached down and placed a hand on Virgil, and his eyes widened. Virgil’s vision waned, and he grabbed his head, trying to block out the loud sounds in his ears. But no matter how hard he pushed, he could still hear their muddled voices just as loudly. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe, but it didn’t feel like enough air came.

   “Virgil, look at my face,” He could make out a voice say. He peeked open one eye and saw Deceit sitting right in front of him. Virgil opened both eyes and glanced around, seeing he was in his own room and sitting on the floor. He couldn’t stop his eyes from looking around wildly and he felt a tight squeeze on his arm. “Virgil, look at my face,” Deceit said again, firmer. “You’re fine. You are not there anymore,” Virgil shivered and leaned into Deceit’s chest. Deceit pulled him in, and they laid back on the floor. Virgil’s breathing went back to normal when he realized the sound and the voices were gone again.

   “Thanks,” Virgil said with a shutter. He felt a tear run down his cheek. “D-do you know what that is?” Virgil asked nervously. 

   “I couldn’t hear anything,” Deceit said calmly. “I just felt the change in environment and saw the shadows,” Deceit said and stroked Virgil’s head. “I think you have about 2 hours you can safely be in there,” He added.

   “I didn’t hurt Remus, Did I?” Virgil asked quietly. There was an amused hiss.

   “He can sleep it off,” Deceit smiled with grim humor. Virgil laughed weakly. Crap, he was having a nice time with Remus and ruined it. And they both needed the break from all the stress Thomas has lately. Hopefully Remus wasn’t too mad at him for fucking it up. Thomas’s stress affects Remus almost as much as it does Virgil. He sighed and felt his stomach growl. 

   “I’m starving,” Virgil trailed off quietly.

   “I’ll summon you something,” Deceit said calmly and sat up to stand. He pulled Virgil with him and deposited Virgil at the table. “What do you want, darling?” Deceit sat next to him and placed his hand on Virgil’s back.

   “Something warm,” he said quietly as he sat down. Deceit summoned him a bowl of hearty stew and hot apple cider. Virgil looked up at Deceit’s face. It was very soft, but there was a pain in his eyes.

   “Will you eat with me?” Virgil asked quietly, dropping against the table, already anticipating his answer.

   “No,” Deceit said calmly and held his stomach.

   “Did I get you, too? I’m so sorry,” Virgil said and grabbed Deceit’s arm before he could protest and pulled as hard as he could. He felt a cold sweat break out on his brow.

   “I would have been fine,” Deceit said in exasperation. Virgil tried to take a deep breath, and a dead sounding laugh broke out of his chest. “It wasn’t very much. I just can’t stay,” Deceit said quietly.

   “Oh, right, my room,” Virgil said with disappointment heavy in his voice. “We could go to yours?” He asked, a little hope sparkling through.

   “I think that’s not the best idea, darling. You need to recover here for now. Eat and take a nap,” Deceit ordered resolutely. He summoned the fat snake plush Virgil left on his bed. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” He said, pointing at his snake eye and clearly trying to placate Virgil. What in the world did Virgil accidentally push on Deceit to make him act like this? Virgil nodded, and Deceit, raccoon eyes evident, sunk on the spot. Virgil reached out and grabbed the snake plush from the table and held it with one arm while he slowly ate with the other.

   Virgil woke up from the nap feeling much better than earlier. He was still fuzzy and weird, but it didn’t matter much as long as he had a better handle on himself. He yawned and stretched out and crawled off the couch. He was still hungry, so he summoned some fruit juice and downed it. It wasn’t the same. He threw the glass in frustration and it disappeared mid-air. It felt like it had been so long since he was last alone. Not knowing what to do with himself, Virgil flopped down and scrolled Tumblr on the couch. Seeing the cool fan art and the friendly comments were awesome. Virgil also liked to keep track of the mean comments. Just in case. While scrolling Tumblr, a red shield sticky note fell on his face.

   Virgil rose into Roman’s room right away and immediately tackled Roman where he stood. He was glad he didn’t have to sit alone any longer after this afternoon's debacle. 

   “I missed you,” Virgil whined and rubbed his face against Roman’s tunic and squeezed Roman’s arms to his side, trapping him. Roman chuckled awkwardly and slightly tried to shift under his arms.

   “It hasn’t been that long, panic station,” Roman said with a soft laugh. “Are you going to let me out?”

   “If I let you go, you might leave,” Virgil groaned.

   “You’re in my room!” Roman said with a laugh and struggled under Virgil’s arms again. Virgil groaned and squeezed again. “C’mon, Virge, this hurts,” Roman winced. Virgil let go of him and rolled off of him, lying flat on the floor and whining incoherently while Roman sat up and took a deep breath. Roman leaned over Virgil’s face and smiled sardonically. Virgil stopped and stared up at him in confusion. Then Roman punched him hard, right in the face.

   “What the fuck?” Virgil said, holding his cheek and glaring at Roman’s smug smile.

   “I win. Come on, you clingy weirdo, couch,” Roman commanded with a chuckle. “And that’s an order,” Roman added with a wink and laughed. Virgil chuckled with a little embarrassment and followed Roman over. Roman yanked Virgil in when he got close and Virgil latched on.

   “What are we up to then, Sir?” Virgil said with a catty smirk. Roman flushed slightly. Virgil made a face. That wasn’t enough payback for the teasing or the guerilla victory. He’d have to come up with something else.

   “First, why don’t you tell me why you’re being a little extra crazy today?” Roman asked and brushed Virgil’s hair out of his face. Virgil shook his head, and the bangs came back.

   “Excuse me, I was informed in the past that I needed that to be an emo nightmare,” Virgil said and tried to smack Roman in the arm, but Roman caught him. “I’m still mad you got the drop on me again,” Virgil whined. “Let me punch you back,”

   “I refuse. I already won,” Roman chided light-heartedly. “Though, I’m not convinced you couldn’t just throw me across the room if you really tried,” He mused.

   Virgil pulled his lips into a thin line and looked away. “I’m not supposed to,” He mumbled.

   “What do you mean you’re not supposed to?” Roman asked inquisitively.

   “Woah, when did Logan get here,” Virgil said and rolled his eyes. Roman huffed and made a face.

   “How dare- That's off subject," Roman quickly caught himself in his righteous indignation and settled back down. “Well, then, what else are you not supposed to do?” Roman asked.

   “I’m too hungry for this,” Virgil whined. “And full of blood lust!” Virgil laughed and tried to punch Roman again but he stopped him once more.

   “Quit trying to attack me and I’ll summon you some tacos,” Roman offered and rolled his eyes dramatically.

   “Oh, yeah. Deal,” Virgil conceded quickly.

   “So tell me why you’re being a little weirdo,” Roman said and held up his hand, a silver platter appearing on top of it.

   “I am the weirdo, Mister,” Virgil semi-quoted The Craft and reached up for the tacos, but Roman pinned him with his other arm. Roman just raised his eyebrow. “Come on, I’m starving,” Virgil whined and reached for the platter again.

   “I can send this away,” Roman said punitively. Virgil moaned in objection.

   “My prince is letting me wither to nothing,” Virgil said and curled up on himself in Roman’s lap.

   “You don’t need food, disaster emo,” Roman said with a bit of frustration.

   “I do,” Virgil whined. “I’m wasting away. You know I can’t tell you,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

   “I don’t know what,” Roman said, raising his eyebrows again.

   “You’d be mad at me,” Virgil said quietly.

   “Well, now I have to know,” Roman said with curiosity in his voice.

   “Other than the stress of all the work eating away at me?” Virgil asked hesitantly. Roman nodded, and Virgil groaned. “I, uh, I went back to the mind palace,” Virgil said, trying to sound as dismissive as possible.

   “What, you went there again? After last time?” Roman said and held his arms and wouldn’t let him cross them.

   “See?” Virgil frowned and drooped his shoulders.

   “Well, you got out. You won’t, like, puke or whatever the heck that was again, will you?” Roman eyed Virgil suspiciously.

   “No, I’m fine. Maybe,” Virgil shrugged. “Other than my acute lack-of-taco-itis,” Virgil whined and reached again for the platter. Roman groaned and lowered the platter for him. There were a few tacos with little wax paper wraps on each. Virgil greedily grabbed for one and Roman laid the platter on the back of the couch and grabbed one for himself. Virgil finished one and yawned heavily, rubbing his head against Roman’s chest again.

   “What are you, a cat?” Roman asked humorously with a lop-sided smirk.

   “Yes, I require pets and I know I’m better than you,” Virgil said and reached out for another taco. Roman stopped him.

   “Ah-ah, I need another fact for another taco,” Roman said with a rising inflection. Virgil pouted and crossed his arms.

   “About what, exactly?” Virgil asked cautiously, leaning back. “I’m taking my killer recipe for nightmare bacon to the grave,” Virgil joked airily. Roman laughed, and that made Virgil smile in satisfaction.

   “Something interesting about yourself,” Roman said temptingly, raising his eyebrows and the taco plate higher.

   “I’m starting to think you’re very cute when you’re stubborn,” Virgil teased and leaned up to kiss Roman’s cheek. Roman flushed and the arm holding up the tacos wavered. That’s better. Now they were even. “Luckily for me, that’s almost all the time,” Virgil added with a chuckle.

   “That’s not the kind of fact I’m talking about. And I’m not always stubborn,” He objected with a slight pout.

   “Oh, no! You’re getting cuter by the second! I’ve never stood a chance! You’ve basically got a giant bow on your head!” Virgil cried in mock distress and angled his head up to nuzzle Roman’s neck. Roman shivered, and the tacos lowered, but Virgil didn’t care much about them anymore. He had some food and now required cuddles. Maybe he was a cat. Virgil tittered to himself.

   “Virgil, quit being mean,” Roman said with a flush, pushing Virgil away slightly.

   “I’m not being mean, I’m being a cuddle monster who wants more contact,” Virgil said, waiting patiently at the distance Roman pushed him away, though crossing his arms. Roman looked at him, confused for a moment before he slowly lowered the tacos to the table. Virgil waited for Roman to finish his dramatics.

   “Why do you suddenly not care about the tacos? You said you were starving,” Roman asked carefully.

   “This is better than food,” Virgil purred and smiled mischievously at him.

   “You want-” Roman started.

   “Can I come back to the cuddle or not, Princey?” Virgil asked with a pout. Roman just nodded wide-eyed and Virgil quickly latched on around his neck, pulling Roman in. Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil. Virgil said softly and ran his hand through Roman’s perfect hair, messing it up just to pay him back for messing with his. Virgil gave him a toothy grin and Roman rolled his eyes at him and the remote flew into his hand. Roman flipped through the options and held on to Virgil with the other. He seemed a little annoyed, but the hug didn’t end. That just meant Virgil won in the end.

   Virgil angled to watch the TV when Roman finally picked a movie and summoned his bucket of popcorn. He offered Virgil a piece and tossed it into Virgil’s open mouth. Roman hummed with satisfaction when the popcorn landed in Virgil's mouth. They focused on the TV and relaxed, finally. Virgil didn’t even realize he needed this until he felt himself slowly loosen up. Virgil nuzzled against Roman and he rubbed Virgil's back in return but didn't take his eyes off the movie. Virgil sighed in relief and stole a piece of popcorn out of habit as he watched the colorful nonsense on the TV.

tags: @itsaamood-33 @elizabutgayer

[wasabi-cupcakes]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes (Namjoon x Reader)

Rating: General

Warnings: none

Categories: Pure Fluff/Romance/Slight Comedy

Summary: You started singing at the park to relive stress, you never thought anyone would hear you! And never in a million years did you think they would think you sounded good, comparing you to a princess even! But now here you were, having made a tradition out of coming to the park to sing for your tiny fanbase. You thought the children would be the only ones to hear you now, certainly no more listeners? Definitely no one attractive and your age. No way.

A/n: This work is apart of my princess series, each fic being based off of a Disney princess song~ 

1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue  

“Did you dream about your prince again?” Mijin’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. You were becoming increasingly more distracted as the week went on, but that wasn’t entirely your fault. You had a couple of…encounters to blame for that; you had boys on the mind… which was never a healthy thing. Hoseok could just pop in your life again at any moment, and Taehyung had actually texted you last night! However, you were a little too flabbergasted to actually respond. You knew you couldn’t leave him hanging forever though; you were never one to “play games” anyhow. You sighed and brought your full attention to Mijin.

“What was that sweetheart?”

“I said, ‘Did you dream about your prince again?’ I can tell your thinking about something!” Mijin was always pretty observant; only seven years old and she could read you like a book. 

You did a quick survey of the “crowd”; it was much smaller than usual today, which is why you decided to sit in a new spot today, just to try it out. You had led the children to a cute bench you had been eyeing for a while that was situated directly under two cherry blossom trees at the end of a small hill. It was just past the lake, and impossible to miss if anyone was headed to the butterfly garden…not like you were hoping to be found by anyone. Behind the hill sat the long stretch of trees that divided the park, making this area more secluded than the lake, but not quite as secluded as the butterfly garden (you didn’t have to draw anyone a map to get here!).

“No, I didn’t dream about that last night!” You waved your hands in front of your face, hoping to ease the embarrassment caused by being caught thinking about your “princes.”

“But you did dream about something right? Can you tell us?” Kinam spoke up and the others huddled closer for “story time.” 

It’s true, you did dream last night, but your dream was far more embarrassing than just dreaming about a silly prince! You had seen yourself standing on an immaculate stage, lights flashing from all directions as the crowd roared in delight. Donned head to toe in expensive jewelry and clothes, and a mic placed in front of you, you put on the performance of a lifetime. But that was just a dream; that wasn’t you. 

You were never one for large crowds and having all the attention on you, no matter how many times you wished you had to confidence to endure it. Perhaps that was the only reason you had never perused a music career; well that, and you were sure your singing was just okay, never to the standards it would have to be to be a professional. With these thoughts in mind, the last thing you wanted to do was tell the children what you dreamt of.

“Well yes, I did have a dream, but… I can’t tell you what it was about.” The children looked at you in confusion, before Jihae and Mijin yelled out at the same time.

“What?! Why not?” Jihae adding a pout for extra measure. You giggled in response, quickly coming up with an excuse.

“Cause if you tell a wish, it won’t come true!”

“A wish?”

“Yes, because a dream is...” suddenly you thought of a perfect way to distract the children from inquiring about your dream, “hold on, I have the perfect song for this~” Immediately all of the children’s faces lit up in excitement and you were glad that you had recently learned this song in Korean.

Namjoon had been coming to this park for years, even back during his trainee days. He didn’t get to visit it as often anymore because of how popular BTS had gotten, though he supposed that shouldn’t be any reason to complain. He loved how tucked away it was from society; usually in most parks, you would never be able to find a quiet area to read, write, or even put your thoughts together. But here there were so many places to choose from. His favorite spot, however, was in between the trees that separated the “adult” part of the park from the “children’s” part of the park. Particularly, the trees on the top of the hill, where he could get a good look at the lake and the cherry blossom trees below, was his absolute favorite. 

Finally having a break from touring and working on new material, he got a chance to visit his beloved park. Bringing with him a good book and a notepad (you never know when inspiration strikes), he headed to his usual area, the high sun in the sky reminding him it was only the early afternoon.

Hopefully I’ll be able to finish this book today then.

Namjoon settled in, resting his back on the trunk of his favorite tree, and crossed his legs, setting his book in his lap and adjusting his glasses before diving into the piece of literature. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he started to hear voices at the bottom of the hill. Too engrossed in his book however, he decided to ignore them and keep on reading, hoping he would not be disturbed. Eventually the voices became white noise, and Namjoon could ignore them completely, that is, until he heard…

“A dream is a wish your heart makes,”

Is that singing? 

Namjoon sharply looked up from his book, utterly snubbing what used to be so important just to find the source of the voice.

“When you’re fast asleep.” He looked all around him, before coming to the conclusion that the singing must have been coming from the bottom of the hill, since that’s where the voices were before.

But those where children’s voices…this singing definitely sounds more…mature and…beautiful

“In dreams you will loose your heartache,”

He stood up and craned his neck around the tree, making eyes at the hill below. He was surprised to see a group of children surrounding the cherry blossoms, and at the center, underneath them, sat a beautiful young woman. 

“Whatever you wish for, you keep.”

He could only see her profile through the blossoms and branches, and he found himself inching closer and straining to get a better view.

“Have faith in your dreams and someday, Your rainbow will come smiling through.” 

Namjoon’s mouth was fixated in permanent shock at the sound of this woman’s beautiful voice. He found her presence almost ethereal, like she was some sort of spirit or forest nymph not meant for human eyes.

“No matter how your heart is grieving, If you keep on believing,”

With every word the woman sang, a smile danced across her lips and Namjoon could practically feel the joy radiating off of her face.

“The dream that you wish will come true~”

He watched as she suddenly got up from the bench, still singing the tune of the song, albeit more fast-paced and with various “oohs,” “ahhs,” and “buh-dums.” The woman grabbed a few of the children’s hands, skipping about to the tune and twirling in circles. He could tell that the children liked it immensely, dancing along with the woman and laughing. Namjoon couldn’t stop his own face from brightening at the sight, his smile creeping up on him before he knew it. The young woman stopped dancing, and Namjoon watched as she took a deep breath, no doubt to start another line.

“No matter how your heart is grieving,” Namjoon was surprised to hear this line in English, the children seeming to mimic his emotion by the looks on their faces and in the way they stopped dancing, as if they were trying to keep all of their focus on the young lady in front of them.

“If you keep on believing,

The dream that you wish will come true~” The woman’s face broke out in a wide smile as the children around her cheered, some clapping while she took mock bows in appreciation. Namjoon couldn’t stop smiling as he leaned closer and closer, still gripping the tree, before… he slipped.

Shit

You were busy laughing with the children after your little “performance,” when suddenly you heard various faint groans and cries of pain coming from behind you. You saw the children’s eyes practically pop out of their sockets as they all pointed behind you towards the hill.

“N-Noona! There’s a man!”

“He’s falling!”

“He’s rolling down the hill!” Their panicked shouts faces caused you great alarm, and you hoped as you turned around, that they were just playing a silly game of “made you look.”

None such luck.

There, rolling down the hill, was what you could only assume was a fully-grown man, though the flailing mass of limbs made it hard to decipher any human form.

“Oh my god!” You instantly made your way over to the rolling boy as he finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. “Sir, are you alright?!” Concern flooded throughout your body, only dissipating slightly when the man finally propped himself up to smile awkwardly at you, his glasses sitting crooked on his face. He was dusted head to toe in various grass and dirt stains, some of the grass even still sticking out of his hair. You almost laughed. Almost. You reached your hand out for him to take.

“I’m, uh, I’m alright.” He gave you another sheepish smile, gladly taking your hand as you helped him up off the ground. He comically brushed himself off and adjusted his glasses back to the proper place on his face. This time you couldn’t hold back your laughter as you struggled to get your words out.

“A-Are you sure?” You managed, your giggles causing you to stutter.

“Ah, don’t worry about me, I fall all the time.”

“That just makes me worry more!” You were looking him over for any injuries when suddenly it hit you.

Oh my god this guy is handsome too, how does this keep happening to me?!?

He caught you staring and he bashfully turned his face away, scratching the back of his head as an embarrassed smile made it’s way to his face, highlighting his gorgeous dimples and…

OH MY GOD, STOP STARRING AT HIM!

“S-Sorry, I was just trying to make sure you weren’t hurt…” This time you were embarrassed, looking at your feet in shame, hoping he didn’t see through your lie.

“What, you don’t trust me or something?” Your eyes snapped back up to his, a blush still evident on your cheeks.

“Oh no! I just—“ You buried your face in your hands and grunted in despair while rolling boy just laughed at your embarrassment.

Ass…

What you didn’t know though, was that he was only laughing because he found you just so god damn adorable. You looked up at him from your hands, eyebrows furrowed with a small pout on your face.

Could she get any cuter?

“Sorry for teasing you~” Rolling boy made a slight bow of his head. “My name is Kim Namjoon, but I’m fine with just Namjoon…or Joonie~” He subtly raised his eyebrows at you and you chuckled in response.

“Nice to meet you Namjoon,” you smirked when you saw his face fall faintly at the sound of his name and not his nickname. “My name is (L/n) (Y/n), but I suppose you can call me (Y/n)~” you teased.

“I suppose I will, (Y/n).” Your name sounded like honey rolling off of his tongue, your knees almost buckling to his voice. In that moment, you abruptly became aware that the two of you had been speaking English the entire time.

“Your English is very good!” He smiled wide again, the cocky look from his last comment disappearing.

“Ah, thank you! Your Korean is very good, I heard you singing from up there,” he pointed behind himself to the stretch of trees at the top of the hill. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you while I was reading—“

“Oh I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to distract you!”

“Don’t apologize, I’d gladly be distracted by your singing any day! God, it was just—has anyone ever told you you sound like an angel?” You looked at him wide-eyed, heat rising rapidly to your face; you were sure if you had a mirror, you’d find a tomato staring right back at you.

“N-No…” You gripped the hem of your blouse, suddenly finding the delicate stitching so interesting.

“Well, they should…” Namjoon trailed off, trying to find something else to say to you, anything to keep you here with him a while longer. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “So, uh, you’re not from Korea right?”

“N-no,” your voice sounding very small, even to you, “I moved here a few months ago on a work visa.”

“Oh?”

“But I want—“ Your eyes roamed up to his own, suddenly forgetting your words as your nervousness took ahold of you again. “But I want,” you started again, “I want to get citizenship eventually. I do love it here, I’ve always had an affinity for Korean culture.” Namjoon smiled smugly, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Oh well then you must love K-pop right?” Your face lit up, finally finding a topic you weren’t embarrassed to talk about.

“Of course! It’s actually one of the tools I used to help me learn the language! That and K-Dramas.” You looked to the side and nervously laughed, realizing that you probably sounded like a koreabo.

“That’s really cool! I actually learned English with a lot of help from American television, like the show Friends—“

“I love that show!” Another topic you weren’t embarrassed to talk about. 

“It’s so great right?” Namjoon looked like a kid on Christmas, his eyes aglow, and you were sure you looked the same. “Favorite character on one, two, three!” 

“Monica!”

“Chandler!”

The two of you looked at each other in shock for a moment, both giving a look that screamed, “No way!”, pointing to each other in amusement before you both burst into uncontrollable laughter. You held onto your sides as you finally settled down, Namjoon wiping the tears from his eyes. When the air was finally settled, Namjoon looked back to you, his face still proudly displaying a gorgeous smile.

And dimples…WHAT?! CHILL INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS!

“Since you like K-pop, do you know B—“ Suddenly a sharp ringing cut through Namjoon’s words, making him stop and furrow his brows, reaching for his phone in the front pocket of his cardigan. Once he read the contact on the screen, he smiled apologetically at you before quickly answering. You tried not to pry into his conversation, but you couldn’t help but pick up a few words like “dorm”, “now”, and “busy” before you saw Namjoon sigh and reluctantly agree to whatever demands the other person on the line was making. He hung up with a forlorn look on his face, slowly turning back to you before smiling melancholically.

“I have to go,” he gestured to his phone, giving you a peek into the previous conversation. “But, is it alright…if I see you again? Like would that be okay? You can say no if you w—“ You cut him off, laughing at his nervous rambling.

“Namjoon I’d love to see you again!” You watched as his face practically burned in front of you.

“R-Really?”

“Really.” You smiled at his dumfounded look.

“Then could I…could I text your number from my phone?” He awkwardly looked to the side, unsure of how you would answer.

“Yeah, of course! It’s…” You told him your number, watching as he excitedly typed it into his phone, smiling to himself at whatever he must have texted you.

“So um, I guess I’ll see you around hopefully?”

“Yes, hopefully you will~” You two smiled once more at each other before he finally started to stalk off in the direction he fell. You in turn started to head back to the children when his voice suddenly caught you by surprise.

“Bye (Y/n)!” You turned to see him now on top of the hill, book under his arm as he enthusiastically waved at you, a dopey smile on his face. You mirrored his actions, smiling yourself as you waved back to him.

“Bye Joonie!” You watched as his face lit up even more at the nickname before turned around and disappearing into the trees. You were still smiling when you finally found your way back to the children, all of them wearing the exact same face: one eyebrow up and a suspicious smirk.

“What?” You looked anywhere but their faces, knowing exactly what was on their mind before Mijin suddenly spoke up.

“How does this keep happening to you? Are you an actual princess noona? You’d tell us if you were right??” You just laughed and shook your head, just as confused and delighted by this week’s occurrences yourself.

Namjoon’s Text:

From Unknown: Hey Monica, it’s Chandler ;)

A/N: I know Namjoon sees himself as Monica, but like I was just tryna make a cute story thing~ FORGIVE ME!

[wingsoverbros]

“Stuck in the Middle (with you) - mainly because I don’t know where to go from here. Anyone got a map?” or “My Thought on SPN 12.12″

For previous episodes: 12.01 - 12.02 - 12.03 - 12.04 - 12.05 - 12.06 - 12.07 - 12.08 - 12.09 - 12.10 - 12.11

Now, on to Supernatural 12.12 - "Stuck in the Middle (With You)"

Shows that have been on for a long time frequently run the risk of growing stale. Once they've a large number of seasons under their belt, the style of the episodes becomes so familiar that a watcher could become bored. Supernatural has attempted to combat that over the seasons by occasionally throwing in episodes that experiment in the visual or storytelling style most commonly used for episodes. The episodes, although always interesting, are sometimes a mixed bag in terms of success. Sadly, for me, this episode is in the lower level of success, although I did like several elements in it.

"Stuck in the Middle" was an arc episode written by one of our new writers, Davy Perez, who also wrote "American Nightmare". It was clearly influenced by the work of Quentin Tarantino, which probably would have worked better for me had I been a fan of the writer-director's work. Sadly, although I appreciate his visual style, I usually find his storytelling style to be a bit incomprehensible. The disjointed timeline of many of his movies, which was used in a similar fashion in the episode, makes his movies a bit difficult for me to follow without a notepad. A girl shouldn't have to re-watch an episode three times with a sheet of paper and a pencil to figure out what happened.

(Public disclosure: The only film of his I’ve enjoyed is “Inglorious Basterds”)

Without the distraction of trying to follow the back-and-forth timeline of the episode, the influences of Quentin Tarantino works better. I rather enjoyed the everyday feel of the Diner scene. It reminded me a lot of the "fly on the wall" scenes of "Baby" from season 11, another episode with an experimental style that worked much better. If we could have just done the episode with the visual style and references but a more chronological (Linear) storytelling style, the episode would have been amazing.

Leaving aside the style of the episode, the episode was something I'd love to re-watch, just for what it added to the canon from previous seasons. For many years, the fact that the head demon we dealt with had the name of a rather notorious fallen angel bugged me, especially when the angels themselves became involved in the show. Leaving Azazel as just some sort of super-powered corrupted human when he could have been instead a link between the two opposing sides just felt like they were leaving some amazing possibilities discarded on the table. As he was the only one, though, I figured that it was not a possibility.

Over the years, they added characters that boosted my hopes, though. Abaddon, the spirited Knight of Hell from seasons 8 and 9, is listed in legend as "the Angel of the Pit". The show implied that she was as human as Cain had been, though, so that possibility petered out. The inclusion of Tamiel and the Grigori, the same group from legend that contains Azazel as a bad guy also raised my hopes for at least the possibility of characters that are essentially stranded in midair between groups. After all, I figured, Cas is suspended between Heaven, Hell and Humanity. There are bound to be others in the same position but without the support system that are good humans.

So imagine my joy when the episode shuffles Azazel into a specific category of demon, one that included the name of one of the other better-known Angels in legend. “Once Is Chance, Twice is Coincidence, Third Time Is A Pattern” The new category of the "Oldest of the old, after Lilith, turned by Lucifer himself" to "lead the armies of Hell in the war against Heaven" could be human, sure, but would newly turned humans have been able to fight angels? Very few of the demons in past seasons have been able to fight back against angels effectively, and most of those were only able to do so because of the power levels gained through advanced age, and even Lilith and Abaddon were vulnerable to demon traps. The greater possibility is that the "Princes of Hell" were in fact Lucifer's few angel allies, which legend states were tossed out at the same time. The show has never addressed them, so this is a perfect opportunity to both do that and extend canon opportunities.

Now wait just a minute, you say. He couldn't possibly be a corrupted angel, the angel blade didn't work. But we've got canon for that. Cas has been stabbed by an angel blade twice in his lifespan. The second time, as a human in "I'm no angel" in season 9, he died. However, in "The Man who knew too much" at the end of season 6, Sam stabbed Cas through the back with an angel blade. By that point, Cas had powered-up to such an extent that the blade did nothing. The same could be said about Ramiel. He's been changed, shifted into a new species. Not a true demon, as like Azazel, the traps and demon-trapping bullets didn't work (presumably, neither would holy water, similar to Azazel in "Devil’s Trap" in season 1,) but not an angel any longer either. I wonder if the holy fire would have worked, had he not been able to blow it out.

(Bonus thought: If Azazel was a corrupted angel, that makes Meg and her brother into corrupted Nephilim, which ties them into the current story-line and brings up some of the possible menace of a nephilim. Nephilim would make really dedicated demons, considering that the other side inherently hates them anyway.)

I also enjoyed the details the episode added to Crowley. Season 6 and 7 was never all that forthcoming about why Crowley needed Cas to help him, and when and why he decided to go for the throne. It was suggested at cons that some scripts had the details, but it never appeared in the final episodes, having been lost along the way. This episode, though, hints at the reasons. If Crowley was only on the throne because Ramiel literally handed it to him (and in the presence of a potential competitor), then there's no way Crowley had the strength to hold the throne for any length of time without a high-powered ally. The "Six years ago" segment couldn't have occurred more then a few weeks prior to Crowley approaching Cas in Lisa's backyard all those years ago.

Cas would have been a perfect ally. Desperate, easily controlled if Crowley brings up Dean's safety in the negotiations, and legendary to both demons and angels. Hell, Crowley might not even need to bring him in half the time, just threaten any misbehaving demons with the possibility of having to face a super-powered being that had successfully faced down the Devil. The episode suggests that Crowley may now be in a similar position. No real friends, potentially dangerous threats from others who want the throne, and no useful tools to fight them off. And now, he's been changed, given a brush with humanity and emotions and possessing a few personal weaknesses (being fond of family and friends can be a real danger, sometimes.) It'll be interesting to see what happens to Crowley over the rest of this season.

The episode continued the recent trend of revisiting an utter ton of past canon:

Lucifer is back, and he's back in poor Nick (I squealed. I admit it.) Surprisingly, instead of being in the cage in Hell, he's currently in the dog cage in Crowley's throne room. This is important, as the throne room is in the Needham Asylum in Fall River, Massachusetts. Question is, how did he get there? Is that where the spell put him?

Did Rowena know? And what's gonna happen now?

The location of the Colt has finally been answered. I'd always figured Lucifer had it, but at some point, Crowley must have recovered it. It's a shame Mary handed it to the British MOL, but hopefully, the guys can recover it. I also hope the MOL aren't planning on using it on anyone we know.

It's interesting to see that the older the demon, the most likely they are to prefer a quiet retirement to active involvement. First Cain, now Ramiel... Makes me wonder what a demon retirement community looks like. Have there been any cattle mutilations in Florida?

Crowley always has all the toys. I wonder how many hidden caches he has laying around.

Cas has been so much more sympathetic to human limitations since his bout with humanity. I wonder if he now mentally schedules in bathroom breaks during road trips with the guys?

Cas is still using the truck he stole from that poor country boy this season. It makes me think he probably did steal the Pimpmobile in season 10. (Sad. I much prefer the idea that he got it legally. My head-canon for that is the lovely but sad general fic "A Winter's Tale" by NorthernSparrow. Read it if you haven't, it's fantastic.)

Loved that Cas was listening to a sermon on the radio, bringing up thoughts of both Buddy Boyle from season 9 and Chuck in season 11.

Dean spent time in the diner scene pushing Cas towards a girl while Cas remains generally uninterested and a little confused. At least he didn't look as freaked out as he did the first time Dean did that. (Boy, April must have confused Dean.)

General observations:

"three humans with one good liver between them, and a broken angel?" - one? oh dear. I wonder who has the good liver. I'm thinking it's likely Mary. She doesn't seem like a real heavy drinker.

Dean gives Cas a "How you doing?" flirt head-bob. Did he recognize that, or was it unconscious? Considering Dean overcompensates so much, I'm thinking it was probably unconscious.

I liked the glowing box, a signature element of works by Quentin Tarantino. It and the diner were great. Not good enough to make me agree to the disjointed timeline, though.

Mary is a lot more communicative and appreciative of Cas then the guys. Probably due to lack of history with Angels and Cas. To her, he's still a bit of an unknown. Mary defends Cas from attempted set-up. Why? Cause Angel? or cause she realizes he's not interested?

Heh... Cas sniffed the waitress, to see if she did smell like food.

"My shy, but devastatingly handsome friend here..." - good of you to notice, Dean.

My favorite part of the episode? Cas's monologue on love and family. Finally, someone said it. And now Cas realizes he still has a family, and has heard that they return the sentiment with his own ears. He knows now he has a family and a home. Who needs the rest of the angels anymore.

                                          (Your move now, Dean.)

I'm happy for fandom to have it, too. Granted, most of us didn't need it, and the ones that do will never acknowledge it, but it was nice to have it none-the-less.

I loved that Sam was mystified by Dean's strange clarification about the good qualities of a waitress. "Why would a girl smelling like food be a *good* thing?" And he appears to be questioning why Dean wants Cas to try dating in the first place. He must be getting tired of watching them dance around each other. Same, Sam. Same.

I love that Sam's been digitizing the American MOL archives. Good boy. Upgrade for the 21st century. (from their typewriter, I doubt the British MOL have bothered to do that themselves.)

The makeup and special effects departments did a fantastic job this week. That decay effect on Cas looked amazing, and so did the all the effects associated with the Lance of Michael.

Once again, a great job directing by our resident Trickster, Richard Speight Jr.

Supernatural takes risks to keep us entertained, and although they sometimes pay off, the success of this one depends on your point of view. I didn't really think it did, but if you're a fan of Quentin Tarantino, you might have a different opinion. It had good moments and lots of great details which makes it worthwhile to at least try it. It wasn't my cup of tea, but I continue to look forward to what they might have up their sleeves this season.