#its too small to really tell but his necklace has a bee on it

[saum0-0]

bumblebee holoform take 2. i like this one a whole better now, i feel like the outfit fits the vibe i was going for a lot better hehe

the car was admittedly traced from the screenshot below, from the 2007 movie, and the whole thing kinda turned into a colour study of that scene because i just really love the lighting in that film, its so pretty :33

i kinda just had fun with it towards the end though with all the scribbly bits haha

close ups:

sorry for the low res, i drew it really tiny on the canvas 🤭🤭

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like ��fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

[thomaslightwood]

Blackthorn Detective Agency - Part 1

KitTy Sherlock AU!

It's set in 1930s, slow burn & will have a few parts!

I'm not 100% sure where this is going but I'm already writing the second part, so we will see

Words: 3 862 (I know it's long, sorry, this part is more about the plot and the surroundings)

Kit looked at the grey sky above his head and frowned. It was going to rain. Of course.

He hasn't been in London for over a year now but he wondered how he could forget that. The bad weather, the noise, (and true to be told - very dirty) streets, the men in suits and cylinders, the women in pretty dresses, sometimes with pants. He wondered what happened to the few closet shops he was passing by. One of the many mysteries of life.

And talking about mysteries…

Kit saw at the other side of the street what he was looking for. A grey showcase, thorns all over the frame with a few simple words in the middle - "Blackthorn Detective Agency". There was a small bee on its left.

Kit fastly crossed the street, holding his hat. Some man angrily shooted, cursing the sudden wind that scattered many leaves, newspapers and even a few hats. Kit laughed. He missed London even though it wasn't the most awesome place.

He stood up in front of the agency, hesitating. He knew the guy who ran it is young, very good at what he does and known among people as Sherlock Holmes. Kit didn't know almost anything about him. What if he was a criminal? Or another kind of dangerous person?

But he remembered the look on his father's face. The empty package. Kit needed the money, no matter what kind of guy was this Sherlock.

He quietly opened the door and looked around the room as he was entering. It was kind of a lobby but a lot smaller - there was space only for two comfortable-looking armchairs, mahogany mass and a portrait hidden behind a curtain. The walls were in nice, warm colors, mainly grey and brown, a turned off radio on the desk. In the right corner, almost unnoticeable was a polished ajar wooden door.

Kit cautiously stepped towards it but then he heard voices. He stopped, grateful he was quiet while coming inside.

“... think so?” this was a woman's voice, perhaps a girl's.

“Look. All I know is that my friend disappeared a few days ago,” this was definitely a woman's voice, probably older than the first one. “He didn't show up for our meeting the next day. He didn't send a note. And…” she hesitated.

“What is it?” this time it was a male's voice.

There was a minute of silence, then:

“The only reason I come here is not because I can't do investigation on my own. It's because…” she sighed. “The last day we saw each other, exactly the day before our appointment, he told me there is a secret that was passed to him to protect. And he told me about it. Not everything, not enough details, but I'm sure he told me because he knew he may be… attacked. I think his… attackers may know about me and this would impede the investigation.“

“I understand,” the male voice again. It was a nice voice. Melodic. Kit could listen to it for hours. “I suppose you can't tell us this secret.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I definitely can't. It's not mine to say.”

After this no one said anything but Kit thought he heard a pen writing fast on a paper.

“Is there anything further you want to share?” asked the male voice.

“I don't think so,” the woman said. “Just… be careful. Find my friend. The money is not a problem.”

Kit swallowed. Money. This woman had money. Kit should get the job at all costs.

“Thank you, Miss Loss. We will do everything we can to help.”

This was followed by silence and noise of moving clothes. Tracking of heels. Kit jumped off the door, hoping he wouldn't be caught eavesdropping.

A woman with blue skin and white hair came out of the room. A warlock. She suspiciously looked at Kit but didn't say anything. She walked past him and frowned at the sky.

“London's weather is terrible, isn't it?” Kit chuckled. “Sometimes I forget.”

A shadow of a smile crossed the woman's face. “It is, indeed. That's why I brought an umbrella.”

“Lucky you. I always forget and I'm supposed to live here.”

Then a real smile appeared on her face. But she didn't say anything - just put on her gloves, took out her umbrella and went outside. As she opened her umbrella right in front of Kit her skin and hair became darker and she wasn't warlock anymore - just a regular woman in the rain.

Kit watched after her for a second then turned around. On the door's frame was leaning a girl. Not much older than Kit probably, with bright blue-green eyes that was watching him curiously. She was wearing gloves, white shirt with puff sleeves and coffee brown wide leg pants, almost as dark as her curly hair. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Kit noticed a necklace around her neck, with a gold chain and a slim disk of metal on it. On the front was a wreath of thorns - probably the family symbol.

“How can I help you?” she asked politely.

“I'm here for the job. I heard that… Sherlock… is looking for a partner.”

“Yes, that's right,” she said. “Very well. Come in.”

She turned around and got back into the room she and the other woman were in. Kit followed.

It was an office. The shelves on the walls were filled with books - some of them about mathematics and the morse code, about the body language and animals, others - mysteries and classics, fairy tales and mythology, most of which Kit didn't recognize. It was surprisingly cozy - the room was warm and smelled like ink and paper. There were a few maps on the walls - of the world, of England and of London. Three armchairs like the ones in the lobby and surprisingly many tables (at least three) on which were a few little toys and tons of well organized paper - on one was even a disassembled watch. Right against the door, no more than 5 meters away, was a big desk - it was a little messy, with a rotary dial telephone and two chairs on both sides. Probably for the clients.

There was also a board, standing close to the desk - big, see-through board on wheels with paper and written things on it. A young man was cleaning it right now.

As Kit saw him everything around faded a little and his gaze was focused only on him. How beautiful.

This was probably the most good-looking man Kit has ever seen. He was tall, taller than Kit, with messy black hair which showed he probably runs a hand through it a lot. His eyes were grey like the sky outside, carefully reading a piece of paper. He was wearing gloves, a silk white shirt, a little loosened on his neck and black trousers with braces.

This should be Sherlock, Kit thought. He didn't expect him to be so young. Hell, he probably wasn't much older than Kit.

“We have a job candidate," the blue-greened girl said and sat on one of the armchairs.

The young man lifted his gaze to look at Kit. Kit felt embarrassed. He was wearing his favorite overcoat and cap - he wasn't as elegant as the two of them.

“Hello,” he said, trying not to sound too nervous. Or desperate. “I'm here for the job. I heard that Sherlock is looking for someone helping him.”

None of them said who Sherlock was or if the guy in front of him was Sherlock. The black haired one just nodded.

“You can sit if you want.”

Kit sat. The boy took a notebook from one the piles on the desk and a pen.

“My name is Livvy. This is my brother, Ty. We run this place. Nice to meet you.”

They, Livvy actually, asked him a few basic questions - his name, age, occupation. Kit came here prepared to lie for them all. But watching the boys' - Ty's - face while he was writing down the information, he couldn't make himself tell all the lies he had prepared. Kit ended up telling them the truth. His father would be disappointed in him. Well, if he knew his son was here.

“So, Mr. Rook,” the girl started.

Kit shivered. “Please, Mr. Rook is my father. You can call me just Kit.”

“Kit, it is,” she smiled. Kit had a feeling the serious questions begin now.

After almost 30 minutes the interview was at its end.

“Final question,” Livvy said. “Tell us Kit, why do you want to work in this agency?”

Kit paused. “True to be told, it's mainly because I need the money.”

“Oh,” clearly this wasn't the answer she expected. Even Ty looked up. “Really?”

Kit shifted uncomfortably. “Well… I want to help my father and for this I need to find a job. And when I saw the inquiry in the newsletter… I told myself this is what I want to try to work.”

It wasn't the greatest answer, really. But it was the truth.

“Very well,” Livvy said. Ty wrote something in his notebook - he was doing it the whole interview. “Please, leave us alone for a few minutes.”

Kit nodded and got up. He smiled at them and turned around.

When he got out of the room the door closed tightly after him.

•

Livvy turned to him with a playful smile.

“What do you think about him?”

Ty looked at the notes he had made during the interview. Christopher, also known as Kit Rook.

“He looks like he can do the job,” Ty said.

“Oh, come on!” Livvy stepped away from the door and approached Ty's desk. “I know you liked him.”

It was true. Ty did like him. He had a nice smile.

“You're not wrong,” Ty said. “But.”

“But?” Livvy raised an eyebrow.

“I don't think he'll keep up around for long. You heard him. He's here only for the money. When he is financially stable again he'd quit.”

“Ty,” Livvy sighed. “We talked about this. We're looking for someone who will work here, no matter how long. We can't find a full time worker that fast.”

Ty ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and breathed. He looked at the empty board. He already imagined how he filled it with paper, the possible connections and people, places and details, the web of the case - could this stranger help him solve the board?

“I know you don't like strangers,” Livvy said quietly. “But at least give him a chance. From all the people that came, he is… I don't know. Most reliable-looking, I suppose. He would talk with people and he's smart. And I have a feeling he may know a thing or two about London's criminals.”

Ty looked suspiciously at the door, even though he couldn't see Kit through it. “Do you really think he would be helpful?”

Livvy sat on the chair in front of the desk, looking amused - Ty wasn't sure why. “I think he is worth a try.”

Ty looked at his notes one more time, tapping with the pan on them. He looked at Livvy. Sighed.

“All right,” he said. “Let him in. He must hear the good news.”

Livvy smiled at him and got up. Ty almost didn't hear their conversation. Still tapping with the pen on the papers, he read again all the information Catarina Loss gave him. He should talk with some people. Check some places. To think about it.

“Ty?”

“Yes?” he looked at Livvy.

“When is Kit starting?”

Ty thought about it for a second. “Right now.”

•

Well, Kit thought. These guys are intense.

He watched, sitting on a chair, as Ty and Livvy together "prepared" for the case. Ty cleaned up one table, while Livvy moved the London's map closer to the see-through board. At some point they were finished and Livvy sat on the same chair she was sitting on during Kit's interview, while Ty remained standing.

“Let's retell get the case from the beginning,” Ty said and grabbed his notebook. “Before four days, on 10th October Ragnor Fell arrived in London, around 2 p.m. After that, around 4 p.m he and Catarina Loss met on George Street, in a restaurant whose name is unknown. They sat there no more than three hours and left between 6 and 6:30 p.m. This is the last time Catarina sees Ragnor. The next day, 11th October, they should have met at Arthur Street at 11 a.m. but Ragnor never appears.”

He looked up from his notebook and said, “Do I miss something?”

“I don't think so,” Livvy, who had written fast while her brother was talking, shook her head. She turned to Kit as she was handing the paper to Ty. “This is the 'skeleton' of the story. The very basics we know. The details come after this.”

Kit nodded, fascinated by the team they were. What was Kit even doing here? It was obvious the twins worked well together - they didn't need a third wheel.

“Now,” Ty said slowly, looking at the paper with the information Livvy wrote on. “Ragnor told Catarina the secret during their meeting on 10th, correct?” On another list, which he pinned next to the first one, he carefully started to write what he just said. He was making a timeline, Kit realized.

“Correct,” his sister said. “Also, in the same conversation he mentioned he's going to meet with a person named Raphael Santiago, but it's unclear when and where.”

Ty wrote that too.

Then he stared at it, tapping the pen on his hand.

“Do we know when he comes from?” Kit suddenly asked.

They both turned their heads at him at the same time. A little creepy but impressive.

“What do you mean?”

“I was talking about Ragnor and his train. Do we know where the train started from? Or from where Ragnor was before arriving here?”

Ty intensely searched his journal. “I don't think so.”

“It's probably not important anyway…”

“It may be,” Ty just said and took one more paper, wrote something on it and pinned it on the other side of the list with the 'skeleton'. “This is the first thing we're going to check tomorrow.”

For a few more hours they discussed the case. It was Ty mostly and Livvy. Kit was only following their conversations (and Ty's monologues), adding some little details time to time.

He was amazed. After spending a few hours in their company he could understand why "Blackthorn Detective Agency" had this reputation.

Kit looked at the clock on his hand and stood up. “I'm sorry but I have to go.”

It was almost 6 p.m. His father would wonder where he was.

“All right,” Livvy said. “Come here tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. Or earlier.”

Kit shivered. So early. But he only nodded and left.

•

Kit was running down the street. The wind was blowing in his face, his lungs were burning. He could barely stop in front of the door of "Blackthorn Detective Agency". Kit took one deep breath and entered.

Ty was in the lobby, sitting on one of the armchairs. He was reading his notes, in one hand holding a calabash pipe and in the other - his journal.

He glanced at Kit. “You're late.”

“I'm sorry,“ Kit said. It was his first day - it was a bad impression to be late, wasn't it? “I didn't correctly estimate how long it would take me to get here. I promise it won't happen again.”

“Good,” Ty said, closing his notebook. He got up from the armchair and grabbed the overcoat that was on the other.

He was as tall and handsome as yesterday. Under the overcoat he was wearing clothes similar as the day before - only the shirt was green. The braces remained the same.

“Let's go.”

“Shall we not wait for Livvy?”

“She is not coming with us.”

“Oh. All right.”

Ty eyed him as they were leaving the building. “Are you disappointed?”

“Well. No. Just surprised I suppose.”

Ty seemed like he accepted his answer. They walked side by side on the street.

“Where are we going? To the train station?”

“We shall,” Ty said. “But our first stop is Ragnor's apartment because it's closer. Then we'll take a taxi to the train station.”

“Sounds good.”

They walked together in the chilly London. Kit could see his breath in the air. The streets were rather empty. Maybe it was because it was too early? Anyway, he liked it this way. It was calm.

“So,” Kit said. “Why do you choose to call yourself Sherlock? Where does it come from?”

“Livvy came up with it,” Ty said, glancing around the street. Maybe he was searching for Ragnor's apartment. “And I'm not Sherlock.”

Kit was so shocked he stopped walking for a second. Then he caught up with Ty and asked, “Wait, you're not Sherlock Holmes? Then who is it?”

“Well,” Ty said and turned towards the street on the left. “It's Livvy and I. Although she probably will disagree.”

“Interesting,” Kit said absently. This explained some things. Like why no one could tell how Sherlock looked or his age. Even if he was male or female even though most people thought it's a man.

“This is it,” Ty said and they stopped in front of a tall but narrow building, reminiscent of a tower. “I believe Ragnor's apartment is on the third floor.”

Instead of entering the building from the main entrance, they went around to the rear entrance. While they climbed the stairs (because around the elevator too many people would see them), Kit asked, “Do you have a key to the apartment?”

“No,” Ty simply said.

“You say we're going to break in?”

“Well, technically, yes. But Catarina Loss said we should do everything we can to find him. Even if this includes "some not so legal actions", in her words.”

“Dear god,” Kit murmured. “So, we, kind of, have her permission to break in her friend's apartment?”

“That's right.”

Does he know how to do that? Kit thought but didn't say it. He probably knew. This was Sherlock Holmes (or at least half of it).

They quietly sneaked throughout the floor, until Ty stopped in front of room 66B.

He frowned at it.

“What is it?” Kit said.

“It seems that the lock is not... what I expected it to be,” Ty sounded deeply displeased when he said it.

Kit signed. He didn't want to seem like a criminal but desperate situations require desperate measures.

“Have you brought some instrument to open the door?” Kit said, already looking at the lock. “Small screwdriver perhaps? Or something like it?”

“I did,” Ty said absently, tapping with his foot. He was probably thinking of other ways to open the door without breaking it. Well, with a bit of luck Kit was going to do it for him.

“Can you give it to me? I want to try something.”

For a second Ty just looked at him but did as Kit asked.

Kit took the little object and kneeled in front of the door. The lock was better than he expected from a place like this but nothing unbearable.

After a few minutes, a few clicks and pressure on the mechanism Kit unlocked it. He stood up and gave the screwdriver back to Ty.

Ty was looking at him with amused eyes. “Unexpected but very helpful. Thank you.”

Kit felt warm and smiled. He wasn't used to people complimenting him. Shyness he didn't know existed in him woke up and he just said, “Nothing special. You're welcome any time.”

Ty gave him a thoughtful look for a second but didn't say anything.

They walked in the Ragnor Fell flat. It was a rather simple room. Pale red wallpapers, boring green sofa. A dresser and a desk with a few books about Spanish language on it. Bookshelf and a few plants. In the end of the room was a door, as boring as everything else here, that was probably the bedroom.

“This doesn't make sense,” Ty said, looking around the room. He approached the desk and looked at the books.

“What? That this flat is awfully boring for a warlock to live in? If so, yes, you're right.”

“No. I mean,” Ty ran a hand through his hair. “You have a point. I suppose. But I meant that such a warlock as him would protect his own flat at least. We get into it too easy. There were no spells, no protection, nothing. This is strange.”

Kit closed the door to the apartment and stepped in it. “Maybe he just didn't have the time?”

Ty shook his head, opening a drawer in the desk. It was empty. “Between his meeting with Catarina and his arrival in London are two whole hours. After that too, if we guess he hasn't been kidnapped right after meeting her.”

“Fair point.”

Kit looked around as well, approaching the door. There really wasn't anything interesting. Most of the books were classics, the sofa looked old but unused. Kit opened the door to the bedroom which creaked quietly.

This room was even simpler. One big bed, two nightstands on both sides of it and one more wood door, probably for a bathroom or closet. At one of them though there was a frame. As Kit took it in his arms he saw it was a black and white photograph. In the middle Kit recognized Catarina Loss - she was smiling quietly with crossed on her chest arms. On the right was a tall guy with cat eyes and a big smile, maybe a little drunk.

Kit decided the man on the left was Ragnor - he couldn't imagine a guy like the other one would live in place like this. Maybe-Ragnor looked grumpy and annoyed but Kit could see in his sparkling eyes that he was happy. He probably loved his friends but would never admit it.

On the right corner with a thick pen was written 'Peru,1890'.

“Did you find something?”

Kit looked a little startled at Ty. He almost forgot they were here to investigate. Almost.

“Something,” Kit repeated. He handed the frame to Ty and watched as his grey eyes were running through the photo.

“Peru, 1890,” he said thoughtfully. “This photography is from more than 40 years ago.”

“It's the only personal piece here. Probably in the whole flat, except the Spanish books.”

“You have a point,” Ty agreed. “But this is not his-”

A sharp sound interrupted him. It was the front door. Someone was trying to break it.

Kit breath stopped. Before he could do anything Ty grabbed his arm, opened the wood door and dragged them both inside.

Ty closed the door to the narrow dark room. Kit couldn't see anything. The only material thing was Ty's body against him. A moment later they heard how the stranger broke the lock and their steps as they came inside.

To be continued...

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Seven - A Pretty Little Ribbon

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

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Word Count: 2.5K

“I’m telling you Y/N, you’ve got such a glow to you!” Mei exclaims, dangling different colored ribbons next to your dress to see which would match better.

“Mei, that is what people say in regards to pregnant women.” You explain, playfully glaring at her. You were currently dressed in your undergarments and sat in your vanity chair, waiting for Mei to finalize every detail of your outfit.

“Well then, you’re brimming with excitement. And because of that,” she says, picking up your dress and the ribbon she decided on, “I know you aren’t going to be accompanied by Lord Iida.” You freeze up a bit at her words. Was I really so miserable when I was with him? You thought. You thawed, though, when Mei placed a caring hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Y/N. Your heart was just ensnared by someone else, not letting your feelings budge. It’s a marvel when that happens to a young lady.” You nodded and gave her a smile through your mirror as she began to fiddle with the buttons on your dress.

“That’s a lovely choice, Mei. The design is quite unique, do you know where it’s from?” Mei’s simple smile turned into more of a mischievous one.

“It was a gift. Lovely color, isn’t it?” It’s then when you put the pieces together. The dress was an ivory color and had a beautiful lace overlay, but what caught your eyes was the waterlily yellow ribbon that was tied around the empire waist. Shouto. Not long ago, you remember yourself telling him he would never see you in yellow again. How cheeky of him to have sent along that dress, but it made you admire him a little more. Finally, you were seeing the smart and cunning side of the duke’s son. 

“Indeed,” you confirm, letting Mei help you into the dress. She fasents the small buttons quickly and then moves onto your hair.

“I think a ponytail will do nicely with this dress,” Mei decides, bringing your ornate brush to your hair and untangling it. “The ribbon is wide enough so that it will look lovely.” You let Mei twist your hair in whichever way she pleases. In the end, it always looks good. As she’s tugging the ribbon into place, you glance out the window to see the sun shining rather harshly.

“I ought to bring a parasol with me today.” You say absentmindedly.

“Want to borrow mine?” A sweet voice filters its way into your room, making you turn around to face your door. Ochaco is standing right outside your door, a cheery smile on her face. 

“Ochaco, how lovely to see you!” You greet, standing up and making your way over to your future sister-in-law. “What brings you here? Please don’t tell me Izuku is still holed up in that office making you wait.” You worry.

“Oh no, nothing of the sort!” She assures you, easing your mind. “He’s actually about to be on a break right now, so we were going to have tea.” 

“That’s good to hear. How have preparations been going regarding your wedding?” You wonder, letting Mei hand your lace gloves and clasp a dainty necklace along your neck.

“Everything’s almost finalized! It should be safe to say that the date shall be set for the end of the month. The both of you squeal in excitement.

“How wonderful! I’m so excited for the both of you, truly. It will be a dream to finally have a sister.” You and Ochaco share an eager grin. 

“Y/N, I hate to interrupt both you and Lady Uraraka, but the time might be getting away from us.” Mei warns. 

“Right,” you say sprucely, reaching to your side to grab your little hand purse. “Ochaco, I would love to accept your offer.”

The sun was beating down rather cruelly, and even through the shade of Ochaco’s parasol, the heat was still getting to you. You prayed that you wouldn’t sweat and if you did, you hoped that the lemony smelling perfume would be enough to drown it out. All around you, picnic blankets and canopy shades were set up with mothers sat beneath them conversing about the latest gossip while children were running around flying kites and playing ball. How far you have come from those carefree days.

“Y/N.” A soft and deep voice roused you from your thoughts, causing you to turn around and look for the speaker. Dressed in a smart-looking navy tailcoat, white breeches, and a soft cream-colored collared shirt, Shouto looked incredibly handsome. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long, the heat is absolutely blistering today.” He says, striding next to you and offering up his arm. You take it gladly, and the two of you begin to walk around the park.

“Not at all, I only just recently arrived.” You reassured him, offering a smile. He nods in return and the two of you settle into a silence, taking in the beauty of the day while also indulging in the little shade that the parasol gave off. It only took a few minutes for the temperature to rise even higher. Even with all of the tea and water you drank this morning in order to calm your nerves, your mouth was now undoubtedly parched. Shouto, too, seemed a bit too warm for his own taste. It was subtle, but you could hear him breathing a bit harder than normal.

“Would it interest you in going into town for a bit? I’ve heard there are some new outlets there,” Shouto suggests. The shopping district of town was certainly an attractive option to you at this point. Due to the tall buildings, the roads were usually cast in the shade and the stores were always fun to browse in.

“That sounds wonderful!” You agree, unconsciously tightening your grip on his arm out of excitement. His heterochromatic eyes seem to light up at your enthusiasm and immediately takes you to his horse-drawn carriage, letting you hop in as he tells his coachman the directions. You quite enjoyed the little ride, relaxing into the plush cushions of the carriage and making small talk with Shouto. You had a family carriage yourself, most young women of your status did, but like everything else, Shouto’s was just one step above.

“How is your brother? I hope he’s not overexerting himself by covering for your father’s duties.” Shouto asks, a slight worry laced in his tone.

“Oh, Izuku’s doing just fabulously with this whole predicament.” You reassure him, your smile showing how grateful you were for his concern. “I knew he would have to take over Father’s business and making sure that the family’s checkbook lined up correctly someday, but he’s doing very well.” Shouto smiles and leans back a bit in his seat.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” You think back to that night when him, Lord Bakugou, Lord Kirishima, and Lord Iida came over to your home in the early morning to help your brother adjust. After all, it was just the night before. Then, it dawned on you how you never apologized for your actions towards the very man sitting across from you.

“I really should have told you this sooner, but Shouto, I am so sor-” You are paused by the raise of his hand.

“Y/N, you have no reason to apologize to me.” He says sincerely, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “You did everything correctly. And while yes, your words did invoke some more than melancholy feelings within my heart, it was my fault that they were urged to be spoken in the first place.” His words are firmly put.

“Okay,” you agree, your cheeks a bit more flushed than normal.

“We’ve arrived, your grace,” Shouto’s coachman says from outside the carriage. Much to your chagrin, you unconsciously squeal with excitement as the door opens, causing laughter to escape from Shouto’s mouth.

“Shall we?” He asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“We shall!”

“So, where would you like to go first?” Shouto asks as the two of you wind your way down the busy road, peering into the windows of stores. A little boutique caught your eye immediately.

“Ooo, that place looks just lovely!” You say, pulling him a little bit towards it. As the two of you entered the store, your eyes lit up. It might be a stereotype that women of your age were obsessed with fashion, but you didn’t really care. The dresses, accessories, ribbons, and hats that were displayed along the store walls and on the store floor were just to die for. And, like a bee in a flower field, you dotted around to look at all of them, Shouto in toe. You let your finger trail along a beautiful, baby pink lace ribbon.

“Would you like it?” Shouto asked, his voice lowered due to the privacy of the two of you and out of respect for the rest of the patrons in the store. You feel your heartbeat speed up as you felt his breath on your ear.

“It certainly is beautiful, but I left my billfold at my home.” You say, letting the ribbon slip from your fingers and swing back to its spot. “I’ll just come back a bit later in the week to purchase it.” You say, smiling and moving on to the next display to peer down at the fabrics. Unknown to you, Shouto takes the ribbon and hands it two a store worker beside him. He whispers a few words to the worker before following dutilly behind you as you ogled some hair combs. You came across a quite obnoxious looking one, the little silver comb absolutely covered with huge fake pearls and enormous enameled flowers. You put your hand over your mouth slightly to prevent the giggles that would’ve escaped otherwise.

“Y/N?” Shouto asked, causing you to snicker. Shouto’s eyebrows rose, a surprised but happy look on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just,” you whisper-laugh, covering your mouth with both of your gloved hands now. “This comb is simply outrageous.” Shouto’s gaze follows yours to the comb in question. As soon as he takes it all in, he too has to stifle his laughter.

“It is quite ridiculous,” he agreed, chuckling. From beside you, a helper was shooting you a less than enthused look, so you patted Shouto’s shoulder.

“Alright, I think we might’ve overstayed our welcome.” You murmur to him, earning a quick nod.

“I will be right behind you, I just need a moment longer.” He says, earning a raised eyebrow but nothing more as you smiled and exited. You only had to wait but a moment until Shouto exited the store, letting the door swing back and jingle as he held a small parcel.

“Oh, I didn’t know you wanted to purchase something! I would’ve waited for you,” You frowned, looking between him and his purchased item.

“Think nothing of it. Come, let me treat you to some cream ice. I’ve heard the flavors over in that parlor are the sweetest.” He says, letting you take his arm again and heading straight towards the little frozen desserts shop. The aroma lifted your already high spirits as you took a whiff, sighing happily against Shouto.

“Your Grace! What a pleasure to be serving you on this fine day. Shall I find a more private table for you and your lady?” You felt your whole body heat up. While yes, your intentions with Shouto and how you would like to further your future with him were clear to you, this was the first time anyone has referred to you as the young lady Shouto was courting. And it felt magnificent.

“That will do nicely, thank you,” Shouto says politely, letting the server lead the both of you to a shaded outdoor setting, only one table and two chairs occupying it. Shouto, ever the gentlemen, pulled your chair out for you letting you take a seat first before tucking you in, and then sitting himself down in the chair across from you.

“What will you and your lady partake in today sir?” The server asks, an over-enthusiastic smile on his face.

“I would like something with fruit, strawberry perhaps?” He asks as the server jots down his words dutifully.

“And what will your lady have?” He asked, still looking at Shouto. The red-and-white haired man looked in between you and the waiter.

“Well, you would have to ask the young Lady herself. Since she is the daughter of a Lord, I am sure she is perfectly capable of ordering ice cream. The smile on your face was now as wide as ever as the flustered waiter looked to you, your eyes locked with Shouto’s as he sprouted a smirk. If being gentlemanly wasn’t enough, he wasn’t overbearing either.

“I would prefer a Y/F/F flavor, if that is possible?” You asked in a saccharine sweet voice, your face painted as innocent as a lamb.

“Y-yes my Lady.” The waiter says, bowing to the both of you and quickly making his way out of the area. Now yours and Shouto’s laughter was perfectly audible.

“Thank you, Shouto. That was both eloquent and perfectly strict.” You compliment, reaching for the glass of water placed at your side.

“Well, no one should speak to a Lady like that in any way, especially you.” He says. “Oh, and before I forget,” he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the parcel, sliding it in front of you.

“For me?” You asked in surprise, you finger trailing around the twine that was keeping the little parcel wrapped.

“Indeed.” A giddy smile takes over your face as you carefully unwrap the parcel, letting the paper fall to the side revealing the ribbon that you were so interested in earlier.

“Oh, Shouto…” you breathe, lifting the baby pink lace ribbon. “You really didn’t have to-”

“I did.” He interjects, his voice steady. “And I expect you to get used to it. Before long you will be showering in a mountain of gifts and affections from me.” He says playfully, earning an eager look from you. Taking advantage of the moment, you reach up into your hair and let the ribbon you were currently wearing unravel, letting your hair curl around your shoulders. Quickly, you tie it back up with the ribbon Shouto got you, letting a pleased smile spread across his cheeks. “You look absolutely radiant.”

“It must be the dress color. I think it looks well on me, does it not?” You say cheekily, earning a chuckle from Shouto.

“You truly do wonders with yellow.”

[spidercakes]

Starker high school AU featuring fem!Omega!Tony and alpha!Peter where Tony is well known for being a real bitch to anyone who tries to court him. Peter knows better than to think he hates getting gifts.

Warning for references to domestic violence (Howard).

*

Peter watches Tony from across the hall trying mostly unsuccessfully to shove his stuff into his locker. He’s already in a bad mood that much is clear but when Justin Hammer walks up looking far too confident his mood appears to take a nosedive for the worst. He watches Tony turn away from trying to stuff his leather jacket into his locker to Hammer, aggression clear in his features but that doesn’t seem to deter Hammer any. Bad sign, Tony hates that but Peter leaves him to it because its almost funny to watch Tony tear his suitors to shreds and he’s mean when he gets going. Or at least it would be funny if people didn’t keep disrespecting Tony’s very clear and well known boundaries and if Tony didn’t sometimes go a little far in his vicious takedowns.

But he doesn’t really like Justin Hammer that much and neither does Tony, he’s not shy about saying it. So when he holds out a box Peter knows he’s about to go ape on this guy. MJ walks up beside him and shakes her head, “one, stop fantasizing about being the only one to tame that beast. He’s a privileged brat, get better taste. Two, privileged brat or not he’s preferable to Hammer so I want to see this,” she says, looking satisfied as Tony glares Hammer down.

“He’s not a brat,” Peter tells her, “he just doesn’t like jewelry and no one seems to get the point.” Or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what that is anyway but its hard to tell because omegas almost never get stuff that isn’t jewelry. Peter doesn’t get why that is when he’s never actually seen an omega wear any of it. Mostly they range from irate like Tony about it to mildly uncomfortable and unsure what to do with expensive things they don’t want like Liz. Either way Peter thinks its about time someone actually paid attention to what their crushes like and give them something that’s not stupid expensive that they might actually like. But that’s probably the fact that he’s too poor to do much more than get small things talking even if Liz agrees.

“Turn the fuck around right now,” Tony tells Hammer. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but they both agree that unwanted attention should earn a person a smack so Tony is actually being really polite right now according to those standards.

“I got you-” Hammer starts but Tony cuts him off.

“You could have Nicolas II the last Czar of Russia in that box and I couldn’t give two shits. Turn around and walk away,” Tony says.

Peter doesn’t mean to let out a sharp peel of laughter but its funny, okay? Tony turns to glare him down but softens slightly when he notices that Peter isn’t laughing at him specifically. He still turns away like he’s been stuck with a hot poker because Christ, Tony isn’t supposed to see him watching. “He’s not staring anymore,” MJ tells him helpfully so he risks looking back over.

Tony is unlucky enough to have Hammer’s gift all but shoved into his grasp and oh, Tony hates that too. Peter isn’t entirely surprised when Tony makes an offended noise and walks to the nearest trash can to chuck the box into it. “For ten fucking seconds I want some time to myself to stick my jacket in my locker and you fucks can’t even give me that!” he snaps as he storms off, unconcerned with the fact that his jacket is on the ground and his locker is wide open.

“Well that was a fun way to start the day,” MJ says. “Think we’ll get more entertainment by lunch?” Given the way people seem to lust after Tony Peter wouldn’t really be surprised.

*

Rhodey is used to people asking him about Tony, it happens all the time and he’d never say anything. Or at least he’d never say anything to anyone Tony didn’t already approve of so he’s gotten a reputation for being as difficult and bullheaded as Tony. Neither of them have high standards so its pretty sad that people consistently fail them but it is what it is. So when a lanky looking alpha walks up to him at least having the sense to look nervous Rhodey isn’t surprised. He’s not the usual type, that goes to whoever is overconfident enough to think they’ll actually get something from Tony and this guy does not look the type if his blush is any indication.

“Um, hey. I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker, yeah, um. God, this is bad I’m so glad Tony doesn’t have to- here,” he says, handing Rhodey a small box. “Tell him its not jewelry.” He turns to walk away looking pretty harassed but Rhodey is curious.

“Why’d you give it to me?” he asks before Parker can run off anywhere.

He doesn’t look impressed about it but he does turn to give Rhodey his attention. “Tony doesn’t like being handed stuff, but he seems to take stuff from you and Pepper. You seemed less scary than Pepper but I think maybe I was wrong and both of you are terrifying.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh a little but its kind of funny and he gave an answer Rhodey likes. “If he doesn’t want it I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” he tells Peter.

Peter nods and walks away with a soft ‘thanks’ and Rhodey decides he likes that too but he won’t tell Tony about it unless he likes the gift. Not that he would have even got it if he didn’t like Peter anyway, he knows Tony well enough to know when he won’t like someone and he’d probably appreciate the help weeding them out. He doesn’t even know why people try at this point, not when Tony is so damn nasty about his day being disrupted. He doesn’t know about anyone else but if he watched a guy toss a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because he didn’t like it he’d probably think that guy was an asshole and avoid him forever.

He knows better than to think Tony is the asshole here, but without context he’s go to wonder what the hell everyone else is thinking. Its not like they all know Tony is as rich as he is when he doesn’t hint at it, and they don’t know that he hates jewelry because his asshole of a father used to give his mother something sparkly after he beat her, and they definitely don’t have any boundaries, but he still wants to know what goes through their mind. He wants to know what it feels like to be so confident he thinks he can win over an omega who actively hates jewelry with jewelry. It must be some kind of adrenaline rush mixed with a Darwin Award and he wants to know.

The fact that its so common is so weird to him too, its like no one here has basic observation skills. Sometimes he pretends like he’s an anthropologist trying to figure out how the students in this school work because their behavior is so counterintuitive. Other times he texts Pepper so they can privately roast whoever Tony harshly turned down now.

By the time he gets to lunch Tony reports three more people- and there seem to be unlimited people at this school Rhodey swears- who have tried to give him gifts. None of them anything but jewelry and Rhodey can do with a little key change to his day so he pulls out that Peter Parker kid’s box. “Here,” he tells Tony, who frowns at it for a second before looking kind of hurt. It takes a second for Rhodey to catch on and when he does he wrinkles his nose, “look man, if I wanted to court you I would have and I don’t. I just can’t look at you the same way after that time I witnessed you triple yourself,” he says. “Its from some kid named Peter Parker and he says its not jewelry so I figured it was promising.”

“Do I even want to know what tripling oneself is?” Pepper asks, coming up behind Rhodey and sitting beside him.

“Shit, piss, and puke in sync,” Rhodey and Tony say together, both sounding dismayed and a little disgusted. The look on Pepper’s face tells him he should be ashamed that this is information he has.

“I can’t believe I associate with you two,” she mumbles, shaking her head at least until she spots the box sitting in front of Tony. “What’s that?” she asks.

Tony shrugs, “don’t know but he survived Rhodey so I assume he doesn’t suck.”

“As long as its not another Sunset,” Pepper says, shaking her head.

It earns a small sigh out of Tony and he picks up the box, probably looking for a subject change. He looks exhausted with it already so that’s how Rhodey knows his reaction is genuine. He pulls a scrap of paper from the box and snorts before he starts laughing, cracking up the the point of doubling over and Rhodey would like to know what’s on that paper.

Pepper has the same idea because she snatches it. “Nicholas II the last Czar of Russia?” she reads, clearly confused.

Tony is already distracted by something else in the box because he’s staring at it with a smile on his face. Rhodey beats Pepper to snatching it this time and he smiles when he reads the pin too. “That’s cute,” he says, handing it to Pepper.

“Ah! the element of surprise. I don’t get the Czar thing but Tony clearly did so that and this pin make for a clever combination,” she says. “So you know this one has brains. Just make sure he’s not the type who thinks being clever every once and awhile is a replacement for a personality.”

“Ew, don’t ruin the only good gift I’ve ever gotten,” Tony tells her, taking his pin and scrap of paper back. “The Czar thing was me insulting Hammer. God, can you guys believe he tried to give me anything? I’d rather stick my dick in a bee hive.”

Rhodey and Pepper exchange a look because there might be something here and Rhodey, for one, wants to figure out what it is.

*

Tony finds Peter after school and quickly learns that he’s jumpy when he all but tosses himself nearly into his locker because Tony spooked him by accident. “You’re interesting, I don’t think I’ve met you before,” he says. He’s certain he hasn’t actually and Peter’s cute, in a boyish way. And he already knows he’s not a dunce so there’s that too.

“I um, you have actually. We’ve had like three science classes and two math classes together but I um, usually sit at the back so.”

Yeah, bad excuse because that’s where he sits too but that’s sweet of him to try and give Tony a reason for not noticing his existence. “Okay, so maybe I can be a little self absorbed. Cute gift though, the element of surprise thing was kind of clever.”

It seems to take Peter a few seconds to catch on to his own joke and that’s... weird. “Oh my god, its like I’m the element of surprise! Yeah, okay, I didn’t even think of that I just thought it was kind of cute and sarcastic and you like science so...” he trails off, wincing.

Its adorable and also telling. So he did put thought into it, just not the way Tony thought and that’s actually better for him. “Think you can come up with another gift by tomorrow?” he asks in maybe a little too cocky a tone. And then he kind of thinks of the implications and winces, “I um, I don’t really want stuff I just want to know that you like, give a shit about who I am. And uh, yikes, that wasn’t an improvement. You can just forget this ever happened,” he says, for some reason feeling the need to finger gun his way out of this, passing Peter quickly as he scrambles the hell out of there.

*

Peter doesn’t really know if Tony likes vinyl but he definitely likes AD/DC so he leaves it in front of his locker and figures Tony will make up his mind. In the meantime he finds Liz so he can focus on something that isn’t losing his mind or passing out. “If you were a sandwich what would you be?” she asks as he walks up. Ned looks mad beside her and that’s weird because Ned never gets mad.

“I don’t know, a BLT I guess,” he says.

Liz throws her hands up, “the only correct answer is a grilled cheese, why do you guys like in anarchy?”

“Meatball sub!” Ned says, staking his claim but Peter frowns.

“Ned, a sub isn’t a sandwich yours doesn’t even qualify.”

Ned looks offended about this, “Peter, its meat in bread. That’s the exact same as a sandwich, just because the bread is shaped different doesn’t mean its not a sandwich.”

MJ chooses then to walk over so Peter pounces on it, “is a sub a sandwich, MJ?”

She squints at him like he’s stupid, “no. Why is this even a question.”

“Liz lives in denial that if we were sandwiches the best option is meatball sub,” Ned explains.

That gets him another ‘what the fuck’ look. “First of all I maintain that a sub is not a sandwich and obviously the only right answer is grilled cheese.”

Peter frowns, “why does grilled cheese count as a sandwich?”

“It has ‘sandwich’ in the name Peter- a grilled cheese sandwich,” Liz points out.

“What was his answer?” MJ asks.

“BLT,” Peter in Ned say in sync.

“Savage,” MJ accuses and frowns for a moment, leaning around him. “Oh, and he’s about to get his penance, we should probably check ourselves before we wreck ourselves,” she says, nodding at something behind Peter. He turns to find Tony walking towards him with the record he left at his locker and winces because he doesn’t want to like... get smacked with it or something equally unpleasant.

When he turns back to his friend group he finds that they’ve all abandoned him like cowards but in their defense he wishes he could abandon himself like a coward too. But unfortunately he’s him so he can’t. “Um, hey,” he says once Tony is in ear shot.

Tony grins, “AC/DC!” he says excitedly.

“Oh, yeah. You like them, and like... most eighties rock but a lot of sixties and seventies stuff too. Why are you looking at me like that, you wear a lot of band shirts,” Peter says. Like a lot of them, but enough of them are AC/DC shirts that Peter assumes he has a preference.

“Oh, right. Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, I’m just not used to people noticing really obvious stuff about me- I, you know what. Uh, thanks,” Tony says, scattering before Peter can say anything. From across the hall he has no less than six people staring at him in shock and Peter frowns.

“What? It wasn’t hard to find something he liked.” Which is true, but he’s at least somewhat benefitted by the fact that his competition seems to think trying the same thing over and over again despite atrocious results will work.

“I gave him like, twelve things!” the one guy says and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Ten bucks says it was all jewelry,” he mumbles to himself and walks away. He doesn’t get why people keep trying to throw shiny things at Tony when he obviously doesn’t like it.

*

When Tony finds the box he doesn’t expect much mostly because good things don’t seem to last where he’s concerned, so he’s pleasantly surprised by its contents. “That is the ugliest scarf I have ever seen,” some alpha a couple lockers down from him says, giving the scarf a distasteful look.

Tony doesn’t remember anything about her except that he can’t stand her. “Then you clearly don’t get the reference,” he snaps, putting the scarf in his locker before he goes to class.

Rhodey raises an eyebrow at him as he walks up but he says nothing as he sits down. “What, no rant about gifts today?”

He shakes his head, “no. People seem to be picking up on the fact that Peter is doing a better job than any of them. Today I got Four’s scarf.”

“Nice,” Rhodey says, grinning and giving a nod of approval. “Now that you have a not shit suitor I feel like I can finally say that I cannot believe you threw a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because you didn’t like it. You could have pawned it,” he points out.

“And get money I don’t need? Let someone else find it and cash in and I thought you hated Killian anyway.” Rhodey had been the one to warn him off not that Tony needed a warning to stay away from Killian.

“Could have donated it to charity. And I don’t, which is why I laughed when you tossed it. But damn man, twelve grand. I can’t imagine having that much money to just throw aside for a courting gift.” He shakes his head but Tony is well aware there’s more to it than that. Its not like his being on the lower end of middle class is a secret, and Tony knows that Rhodey doesn’t really believe him when he says most omegas don’t actually want jewelry. Tony is pretty sure Rhodey thinks that’s a bias on his part and it is, but only because he has an active reason to dislike jewelry, not because omegas secretly do want jewelry.

But the pressure is there and Tony knows Rhodey has avoided dating because he can’t afford that kind of thing. He figures he’ll grow out of the pressure to perform courting in a certain way but that doesn’t make things suck less for him now.

“If Killian knew anything about me he would have donated it to charity himself. And even if I didn’t hate jewelry that thing was god awful, you can’t expect me to have liked that gaudy ass thing. It looked kind of like this hideous necklace my great grandmother snuck out of Italy when she fled fascism during World War Two.”

Rhodey snorts and cracks up, shaking his head. “Okay, I will give you that it was very ugly but it was also stupid expensive.”

“I didn’t know that before it was tossed and yes, I could tell that it cost money because I know what good jewelry looks like but also I wouldn’t have paid more than ten bucks for something that hideous. Someone designed it that way on purpose and they should be fired for their sins.” And that’s before he even gets into the mess that Killian is specifically. Rude, entitled, arrogant, a mean streak a mile wide, and a total inability to not go into full meltdown mode when he’s told ‘no.’ Tony learned his lesson when he was a freshman and Killian decided to hit on him with an uncomfortable amount of aggression and then got mad when Tony agreed to meet him elsewhere to get him the hell out of his face only to not show up.

Needless to say the ensuing meltdown led to somehow deciding to win Tony back, not that he ever had him to begin with, with jewelry. It’d been the first time he’d ever been given anything and the situation resembled the cycle he’s watched his parents go through a million times so closely that he kind of lost it a little. Admittedly it wasn’t the nicest thing in the world to throw the necklace in a pond and start shrieking but he also feels like, at least in context, the reaction wasn’t totally irrational. Just mostly.

“So Four’s scarf,” Rhodey says, transitioning away from Killian thankfully. “Not a bad choice, even if you prefer Ten.”

“What are you two on about?” Pepper asks, arriving to the conversation late.

“Doctor Who,” Tony says and fills her in on the rest. She also gives a nod of approval and its almost harder to impress her than Rhodey. Rhodey only wins out because he’s grown a protective streak for Tony and Pepper has it too, but she’s a lot less likely to go ham on someone at least publicly. Usually Rhodey is good at pretending not to be an impulsive moron but there’s something about Tonys presence that makes him lose a brain cell or two and do dumb shit like get suspended for punching Killian in the face. Twice.

*

Peter didn’t really think Tony would actually like any of the stuff he got, minus the record because he knows Tony likes the band, but it turns out he’s actually really good at this. Tony liked the other pin he got too mostly because ‘UM confusion’ on a pin is pretty much how he feels about this whole thing and he figured Tony felt similarly. And its cute and matches the other pin.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to put the pins on his jacket and wear the scarf he got him. What he expects less than that is the sheer amount of people asking him for advice on how to court Tony seems how his efforts are working. Which is why he finds himself on the top of a table in the cafeteria kind of annoyed that he even has to do this.

“Hey. Um. Hey!” he says a little louder, drawing more attention that time. “So um. You guys keep asking me for advice on how to court Tony but you guys like... really don’t need advice on that. You guys need advice on how to follow boundaries and not harass the shit out of people. And also really, really basic observation skills. Tony doesn’t like jewelry you idiots, how did you not realize that when he kept throwing stuff out? Are you guys stupid?” he asks, fully prepared to continue on this rant when he notices a teacher beelining their way over and he sighs. “Whatever, point is if you can’t figure out how to court the omega you’d like to maybe you should take that as a sign that you don’t like them, you like what they look like. Courting someone shouldn’t be so hard that no one but me I guess figured out that Tony hates jewelry. Didn’t think he’d have to write that one down for you guys considering he throws everything he gets out,” he says, throwing his arms up before he jumps down from the table only to nearly run into Tony.

He looks pleased with himself so at least there’s that. Peter mostly tries to avoid looking at his legs in that skirt because its rude even if he looks good. “Peter Parker I think I owe you a date,” he says, grinning.

Peter blinks, shocked. “Um. What?”

Tony smiles wider, “I said I owe you a date and seems how you’ve been doing all the work so far I’ll handle it.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says. “I’m not great at this.”

Behind Tony Rhodey snorts, “you were better at it than the whole school and don’t have a problem with Tony taking the lead to boot. He’s probably gunna marry you.”

[starshine583]

Crossing a Line

Part 17

(Ya’ll ready for the angst? Because I was not)

Part 1 / Part 16 / Part 18

Le Paon stumbled to a stop, his chest tight and his heart in his throat. He clutched the earrings in his palms, causing the ends to dig into his skin. 

I.. I did it. 

He took the earrings. After all the work Father’s put forward, Le Paon finally got a hold of Ladybug’s earrings.. Of Marinette’s earrings.

A sigh escaped him as he slumped against the Mansion walls. She sounded absolutely horrified when she realized what was going on. How was he going to apologize? Would she even listen to him after this?

Felix dropped his transformation and slipped inside the mansion, carefully searching for witnesses. He could return her earrings after the wish, right? Would that help? She wouldn’t be missing her kwami then..

Nathalie sat in her usual desk next to Father’s office, but she appeared engrossed in something on the computer, so he was able to slip by unnoticed. Felix quietly hopped up the stairs, a part of him wondering how Father would have handled this. How would Father proceed if he knew that his youngest son was fighting against him with a miraculous they needed? What would he have done to Marinette to get her miraculous afterwards? Would he have made the same choices?

Felix stopped in front of his bedroom door. Whether Father might have done something differently or not didn’t help him now. Felix had the earrings, and Adrien had the ring. It was down to this next conversation. 

Tentatively, he knocked on the door. 

No response.

Felix drew in a breath and opened the door anyway. The room was pitch black, and the faint sound of a fan fluttered around. Was he sleeping? Already? It was a little past midnight, but..

Felix closed the door, and ran a hand through his hair. What should he do now? He couldn’t just wake Adrien up to talk about this. “Hey, I know you just woke up, but let me tell you about our not-so-dead mother and the fact that your brother and Father are super villains. Also, can I have your ring that I know has been a miraculous this whole time even though you had no idea that I even knew what a miraculous was?”

Yeah.. he had a feeling that wouldn’t go well.

Felix turned on his heel to go back down the stairs. He would have to talk to Adrien about the wish in the morning. In the meantime, he could hide the earrings in the library. Even if Marinette didn’t know his identity, carrying her Miraculous around provided a flurry of plausible problems that Felix didn’t care to deal with.

Tomorrow. He promised himself, slipping the earrings into a pocket in one of the book shelves. He would talk to Adrien tomorrow, and they would finally have their mother back.

~~~~~~

 Two hours. It’d been two hours since Le Paon came and took her miraculous. 

Marinette sat at the bottom of the ladder that led to her balcony, eyes puffed from tears. She couldn’t understand what went wrong. They were supposed to talk and work things out. He was supposed to surrender so they could heal his mother together. How did she let this happen?

Marinette sniffed, trying to think of what Tikki would say in this moment. Maybe she would insist that it wasn’t her fault, or that she did everything she could, but neither of those would be true. This was her fault. She didn’t do everything. If Marinette were really a good Ladybug, she would have swiped Le Paon’s miraculous the first time he visited her balcony. Or even the second time. Or all the other times she let him swing by. 

But she hadn’t. She let him inside, let herself trust him, and he betrayed her.

How long had he known that she was Ladybug? Did he know from the beginning? Were the times they spent together all a lie? A mere ploy to get close enough to grab her miraculous? 

Was his confession a lie too?

Marinette choked out another sob. Stupid, stupid! She should have known not to trust him. After his first betrayal towards Ladybug, it should have been obvious that everything else was an act. It just felt so wonderful, having Felix by her side. The quiet smiles he would give to only her, the endless praises on her crafts. She didn’t want to imagine a world without him.

And yet, he was gone.

And so was Tikki.

And she was alone.

Marinette wiped away another tear that spilled down her cheek and looked up at the trapdoor. He’s had her earrings for two hours now. Hawkmoth could do a lot in a mere two hours.

Despite the crushing weight in her chest, Marinette forced herself to her feet. There was no more time for crying. There wasn’t time in the first place, actually. She needed to get her earrings back before Felix went too far. She needed to talk to Master Fu.

-

Sneaking out was the easy part. Maman and Papa had been asleep for four hours already. As long as she got back before four in the morning, they wouldn’t be a problem. It was finding Master Fu that was hard. 

Marinette vaguely remembered a few turns, but she normally relied on Tikki for guidance. The address escaped her too, and her phone’s gps didn’t have a hit for “Fu’s Massage Parlor”. So, she ended up wandering around Paris for a while, avoiding dark alleyways and hoping she was going in the right direction. It must have been her last bits of Ladybug Luck that let her arrive at Master Fu’s around thirty minutes after leaving the bakery. 

Marinette let out a relieved sigh when she saw the sign and quickly started knocking on the door. The first few knocks were met with silence, but she was desperate. She knocked a few more times, and after the eighth round of knocks, Master Fu finally opened the door.

“Master! I’m so sorry to come here this late, but It’s urgent!” She all but spat out. “My miraculous- I didn’t expect him to, but- It’s gone! Felix- he took it and just ran off!”

Master Fu, through his groggy state, managed to pick up the gist of her ramblings and promptly ushered her inside.

“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” He asked, glancing up and down the street.

“Positive.” Felix had no ‘use’ for her without her miraculous. She imagined he wouldn’t even bother to speak with her again after this.

Master Fu nodded and closed the door. “Good. I have something that can help you upstairs.”

Marinette was brought back up to Master Fu���s massaging room where they usually practiced her healing magic. Once inside, he crossed the room and picked up an old phonograph. 

“Before we begin, I’d like to apologize.” Master Fu said as he sat the phonograph down in front of her. “It’s my fault Felix got close enough to take your miraculous.”

Marinette shook her head. “No, Master, you can’t blame yourself. I’m the one that let him inside my home without thinking of the consequences.”

“You don’t understand.” Fu responded. “I had his miraculous, but I gave it back.”

Marinette’s eyes bulged out of her head.

“You- you what? When did you have it?” She asked, dumbfounded.

Master Fu sighed. “A few weeks ago, I saw Felix running alone after the giant, movie akuma.”

Marinette pursed her lips. She remembered that night. If the akuma hadn’t appeared she might have kissed Felix for the first time while they ate ice cream. If only she knew then how dangerous he truly was.

“I pretended to be a victim of a mugging, and he offered to help me home. He even came inside and had a cup of tea, sitting where you sit right now.”

Marinette frowned. “If you had his miraculous.. why give it back?”

Regret painted his features. “When I talked with him, he did not seem evil, only desperate. I gave him the miraculous in hopes that he would change his mind and use it to fight against Hawkmoth instead, but..”

He trailed off, and Marinette cast her gaze to the floor.

But I guess we were both wrong about him.

“Tikki is waiting for you.” Master Fu continued. A renewed determination filled his eyes as he opened the phonograph to reveal multiple platforms of jewelry. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am entrusting you another miraculous to reclaim your first one. Choose wisely.”

Marinette gasped, watching the miniature shelves pop out of the box. “You mean.. These are all miraculous?”

“Yes, and each holds a specific power.” He explained, pointing out a few. “For example, the fox miraculous can create illusions, and the bee miraculous can paralyze others for a short amount of time.”

“Create illusions?” Marinette pondered aloud. That could help her immensely if she was going to sneak into the Agreste Mansion. An illusion might be able to cloak her movements to the security cameras.

Master Fu nodded and held it up for her. “The illusions will look completely lifelike until someone touches it or you detransform. Then the image you’ve created will fade away.”

No one should be touching the illusion if it’s outside. Marinette thought as she took the miraculous. It was too late for anyone to be up.

“I’ll be back soon.” She promised, slipping on the necklace. 

An orange orb appeared around the tail pendant, and its glow brightened until a small, orange, fox-like kwami appeared.

“Hi-ya!” The creature greeted. “My name’s Trixx, and I’ll be your kwami. If you wanna transform, you just need to say one thing: Trixx, let’s pounce!”

“Good luck, Ladybug.” Master Fu stated as Marinette transformed.

Marinette offered a smile. “You mean ‘Jiāng húlí’.” 

This time, she’d be the one visiting Felix as an alter ego. Let’s see if he’ll be as hospitable as she was.

-

Running across the rooftops was extremely different compared to her usual mode of transportation via yo-yo. Nevertheless, it felt nice to have a miraculous again. A few skyscrapers even gave her a glimpse of her new costume. Her raven hair had been swept up into a long ponytail that trailed down to the back of her knees. The tips of her bangs and ponytail were stark white, and a pair of pointed, orange ears that were also white-tipped sprang from the top of her bangs. Contrary to her red and black spotted Ladybug costume, the fox miraculous bathed her in colors of orange and white. She had a jacket around her waist that was lined with black and had a popped collar, of which the inside was also black. The rest of the jacket was orange, save for the two blotches of white in the middle that continued in a line past her jacket and stopped on the inside of her upper thighs. The fox miraculous acted as a clip for the black zipper in the middle of her jacket. She had a pair white gloves and boots as well, with black lining around each. (Of course, the lining for the gloves was really the lining of the jacket sleeves) A thick, orange belt was also wrapped around her waist, cutting a line between the splashes of white on her midsection and holding her flute tightly to her side.All in all, it didn’t look half bad.

All in all, it didn’t look half bad.

The Agreste Mansion, being much larger in size than Fu’s massage parlor, was mere child’s play to find, and with her renewed, miraculous strength, Marinette managed to get there in a matter of minutes. 

She crept up to the dark windows, hoping the lack of light meant no one was in the room to see her. If Felix found a new miraculous holder sneaking into his house, she doubted that he would think of it as a coincidence, and her only leverage at the moment was his ignorance towards her knowing his true identity. 

Her claws clicked against the glass as she pushed on the windows for an opening. An evil super villain couldn’t sneak out of his house constantly without a way-

A window near the center fell open at her touch. Marinette smiled. 

Easy now. She told herself, carefully stepping into the room. The sound of a fan insured that someone was sleeping. It was best not to wake them up.

By the time her feet were firmly on the floor, her eyes were adjusted to the light, and she was able to make out furniture. A couch.. A desk.. A rockwall?

Marinette sucked in a breath and immediately started scrambling for a hiding place. This was the boys’ room, meaning Felix was probably in here sleeping. Sleeping! She thought, at the very least, that he would lose a little sleep from betraying her. He really didn’t feel guilty at all, did he?

She shook her head. Focus. If he’s asleep, that means the miraculous is unguarded.

The pads on her feet kept her steps silent as she crossed the room. The earrings shouldn’t be far from Felix, in a pocket, or a drawer, or something. She checked his pockets first- or rather, his clothes. Pajamas didn’t tend to have pockets -by carefully patting him down. It wasn’t easy. He moved a few times, and she was certain he’d woken up when she checked under his pillow. It must have been a miracle that he remained asleep. 

With pockets checked, she went to the drawers. The second and third were filled with nothing but clothes. The first drawer, however..

Marinette gasped, a swirl of bittersweet delight overtaking her at the sight of Felix’s miraculous. What a wonderful opportunity she’d been provided.

“Turnabout’s fair play, Paon.” She whispered to herself as she took the miraculous. His panicked face when he noticed his absent miraculous in the morning was going to be a horrible thing to miss. 

Marinette tucked the peacock miraculous away in her belt and turned to keep looking for her miraculous, but a certain sound stopped her in her tracks. A door. Someone was coming into the boys’ room. A sliver of light entered the dark abyss, quickly growing as the door opened further. Marinette rushed to the side of the room to avoid it, scurrying up a winding staircase. She pressed herself against the shelves above and tried to control her rapid breathing. Was someone coming to check on them or did Gabriel see her on the security cameras? Would she be able to fight off Gorilla and possibly more if that were the case?

A creak emitted from the door as it opened fully, and a single woman walked into the bedroom, straight and tall. Aside from her clicking heels, she was quiet as a mouse as she crossed the room to the boys’ bed. Strangely, she opened the very drawer that Marinette had searched through a moment earlier. When she opened it, though, she paused, almost like she expected to see something else. Then- curiouser, still -the woman started digging through the drawer. 

How interesting.

It took a few seconds, but the woman finally muttered some curses to herself and left the room, looking quite displeased. Marinette might have considered following her under different circumstances. Unfortunately, her time stamp didn’t allow it. In walking into the room, the woman caused the illusion to fade. The cameras might catch her any moment. Marinette didn’t mind. She now had more leverage than the knowledge of Felix’s identity. If he was dumb enough to go to school tomorrow, she would lure him into a private area there. He might not care to look at her anymore, but Marinette was going to drag him by the ear anyway. 

Mark her words, Felix was going to wish he never betrayed the hero of Paris.

~~~~~~

Sunlight poured into the bedroom as Felix got ready. He fiddled with the buttons on his dark grey vest, too nervous to think properly. Adrien was currently in the bathroom freshening up. When he came out, Felix was going to have to find a way to tell him that their long-lost mother was actually in a coma under their house. (Seriously, couldn’t Father find a less unsettling place to hide her?)

Heaven only knows how his brother was going to react. Felix might have agreed to help, but Adrien has been playing hero during this whole fiasco. With all of those battles stored in his mind, the personal insults shot at each other and near-death experiences, he probably won’t be as easily.. persuaded. Not to mention, Felix was going to have to get Adrien down to the basement. Chances were, he wouldn’t be able to do that without Father seeing them. Ugh, so many obstacles!

The bathroom door opened, and Felix tensed. 

“Hey, Fe, did you move the toothpaste?” Adrien asked as he walked out.

Felix almost smiled. Such an innocent question for such a serious topic he was about to bring up. “No, but-”

“Oh, nevermind.” Adrien cut him off, spinning on his heel. “I just remembered that I saw it in the mirror cabinet.”

Felix stared as his brother closed the bathroom door again. He could already see how this was going to go. Heaving a sigh, he walked over to his bedside drawer to grab his miraculous. Maybe Duusu would have some advice. 

The drawer slid open, and a few of the contents inside rolled with it, but there was no miraculous. Felix furrowed his eyebrows and started digging through the drawer a bit. He could have sworn that he put it in there the night before. It’s where he always puts it when he takes it off. 

Maybe I set it somewhere else? He thought with a frown, starting to check under the bed and in the other drawers. He’d been a bit out of last night, but it couldn’t be far, since he’d definitely used it last night. 

“Felix? Did you lose something?”

Felix shot up at his brother’s voice, causing him to smack his head on the bottom of Adrien’s desk that he’d begun looking under. “Ah! Yes, I’m- everything’s fine. It’s nothing.”

It’s not like I need it anymore, anyway. Felix reminded himself as he rubbed the back of his head. I have the earrings, and soon I’ll have the ring too.

“Adrien,” Felix began, trying not to glance at his brother’s ring while he stood, “do you ever.. I don’t know.. Think about mom?”

Adrien hesitated, obviously not expecting the question. “Uh.. I mean.. Of course I do. All the time. Why?” 

“Do you ever wonder what would happen if we could bring her back?” 

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Sometimes.. But that’s not possible, so I try not to think about it.”

Boy, are you in for a surprise. Felix refrained from saying. “What if you could? Would you do what it took to have her back?”

Adrien completely frowned now. “Felix-”

“Boys.”

The brothers turned to see Nathalie in the doorway. When did she come in?

“Gorilla is waiting for you downstairs.” She informed. “Please hurry.”

Felix and Adrien nodded, and Nathalie left the room as quickly as she’d come. He turned back to Adrien, hoping to continue the conversation, but his brother had already grabbed his bag and started for the door.

Before he fully rounded the corner, though, Adrien stopped. 

“Felix, about Mom.. I miss her as much as anybody, but I don’t think she would want us to grieve over her like this. Having Mom back would be great, but would she really want us to go ‘above and beyond’ just to bring her back?” 

Adrien left before Felix could reply, though he’s not sure he would have had a response, anyway. Mother wouldn’t want them to obsess over her. She would them to live their lives and be happy.. 

Too bad it’s too late to back out now. 

-

School that day came with a whole new level of anxiety. He couldn’t help glancing left and right as he walked up the steps. Marinette could be anywhere, and she had to be worried for her miraculous, though she might not show it. She didn’t know his identity, so he should be fine, but the guilt that would smother him upon seeing her wasn’t an experience he was excited to go through.

He pondered not attending school himself, in all honesty. Alas, he didn’t have a good excuse to stay home. So here he was, carrying his bag to his locker and getting ready to burn through classes as fast as possible.

“Felix.”

Goosebumps crawled across his skin at the sound of Marinette’s voice. Why was everyone sneaking up on him today?

He reluctantly turned to greet her and had to force a neutral expression when he saw her smile. That didn’t look like someone who was grieving the loss of a miraculous.

“I want to talk to you.” She said, the usual, perky tone noticeably lacking in her voice.

The hair on the back of Felix’s neck stood up. “Uh.. that’s very kind of you-” Very kind of her? How did that response make sense? “-but class is going to be starting soon, so I need to get going.”

He moved to pass her, but she grabbed his wrist, her grip iron-tight. “I wasn’t asking.”

She yanked him backwards, slamming him against the lockers. Felix gasped for air, his eyes blowing wide with shock. Was this really happening? Marinette has never been violent in her life! He glanced around the locker room for witnesses, only to find that they were completely alone. Something told him that wasn’t a coincidence.

Marinette pressed her forearm to his chest, pinning him to the lockers. “Where did you put them!”

Felix struggled in vain to pull her arm away. Had she always been this strong in civilian form? “Put what?!”

“My miraculous!” She hissed, pushing harder. “Where are they!”

Felix’s eyes snapped to hers. The miraculous? She was asking his civilian form about her miraculous? But that meant..

He stopped struggling. “..You know.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Yeah. And, apparently, so did you.”

Felix might have felt guilty towards the jab had his mind not been reeling. How long had she known that he was Le Paon? When did she find out? How did she find out? 

“Tell me you didn’t use the wish.” She spoke again, bringing Felix from his thoughts.

“Not yet. I still need the ring.” He answered honestly.

Her entire body seemed to loosen at the news. “Good. Where are my earrings?”

“They're hidden in the mansion.”

“Then you’re taking me there to get them.”

Felix shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.” She remarked, her voice dripping with venom. He didn’t know she was capable of sounding so threatening.

Still, Felix held his ground. “Marinette, you don’t understand-”

“No, you don’t understand!” Marinette shot back. “That wish is dangerous! It has consequences! If you use it to heal your mother, someone else is going to take her place!”

Take her place? “What do you mean?”

Marinette sighed. “The universe needs to be balanced. If you heal Emilie from an incurable coma, someone else will fall into an incurable coma as a result. Did you honestly think that I was fighting tooth and nail to keep my miraculous for the fun of it all?”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. No, that.. That can’t be right. Father had never mentioned a consequence to using the wish. 

“..I had hoped that was the case.” Was all he ended up saying.

Marinette huffed. “You’re so infuriating! Call Gorilla or whoever drives you. You’re taking me to get my miraculous back, unless you want me to keep this..”

She pulled something out of her pocket, and though Felix swore he’d seen everything that morning already, his jaw dropped when he saw his miraculous in her hands. 

“How did-”

“That’s not important.” She cut him off sharply. “Call the car. Now.”

“W-Wait!” So many things were happening at once. “I can’t just take you to our house during school! Nathalie’s never going to let that fly.”

Marinette thought that over. “..I don’t trust you enough to wait till after school.”

The words sank into his heart like knives, but he couldn’t blame her. “That’s completely fair, but your plan will never work as is.”

“And what do you propose we do instead?” She inquired, raising a brow.

Felix swallowed. “We can go after school, and-” he emphasized the ‘and’ before she could interrupt “-to ease your mind, I will check in with you after every class period. Our class schedules are relatively the same. We can even have lunch together if that makes you feel better.”

Disgruntlement flickered across her features at the notion of eating together. Felix would be lying if he said that didn’t bother him.

“If I sense any sort of foul play-”

“You won’t.” He promised. “Heck, take my phone for good measure.”

Marinette’s expression leveled, and she held out her hand. “Deal.”

Despite still being pinned to the lockers, Felix managed to dig out his phone and hand it to her. 

Marinette, being satisfied, dropped him as she pocketed the phone. “See you after classes, Agreste.”

Felix watched her sweep out of the room, noting the fact that she kept an eye on him the whole time. She must truly see him as a monster now if she’s waiting for him to pounce like that. He rubbed his chest where her forearm had been, knowing it would probably leave some type of bruise later, and headed for his first class. 

Today was decidedly not going as planned.

Tag List:  @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @starlit-winter @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asianfrustration13  @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @make-the-stars-stay @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace​ @the-navistar-carol​ @sannsibarr​ @grumpy-vixen-kitten​ @hauntedfreakdeputyhero​ @utcaro​ @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @tori-mmm  @fifaanayd  @novicevoice  @dreamykitty25 @mischief-not-managed-posts @amayakans  @arsaem  @athena452 @pink-and-bunny

[torujours]

♡…𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐:

𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚: Kirishima- "Let it snow"

{ 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

⤷ playlist listeners: @lady-snavely @bbykutos @satanawakenedmyoceans @vicassa @ssat0ris @k1ngofthecourt @buttressflybarnes (thanks for reading it before i posted it bee ><)

The sounds of music coming out of stores, children asking for gifts and parents spending a lot of money on said gifts fill your ears as you and kirishima walk down the sidewalk. The sun is still hangin high in the sky for a late afternoon December day but the chill of the season makes everyone out and about wear jackets and gloves.

“Oh babe, let's check out this store!”

Kirishima drags you slightly but excitedly towards a pretty store, you two are enjoying the strange warm day enjoying the long stretch of small, hole in the wall shops that line this street. Real mom and pop shops that feel as cozy as a cup of coffee on a cold morning when you walk inside.

Holding onto your tiny bags, you two walk inside the store. It’s one of those stores that you can make your own engraved gifts. You are far too enthralled with the holiday display they have, watching the tiny, beautifully decorated christmas train run its course on the tracks and around the peiti christmas village, to realize Kirishima has left your side for a moment. Working quickly before you can turn around. Luckly, you don’t turn around till he is right beside you again.

“Found anything interesting?”

He laughs as you just take his hand into your again, casting one last look around the pretty store before“whoa look!” you point to the sky as you two are about to leave the pretty store, it's finally started to snow. And snow it really is.

Thick and heavy yet beautiful white snow clumps fall from a darker sky, the streetlights are coming on which makes you see almost every snowflake falling on the ground as you two finally leave the store and walk into the even colder air.

“Are you ready for me to walk you home” Kirishima asks you as you rock on your heels

“yeah, I hope we make it before we get too wet...” Kirishima just laughs as you two start walking

“It’s okay you got me to warm you up if you do” you huff, but dang he is right.

Despite the fact that yes you did get very wet on the way there, something about the way Kirishima kept his arm wrapped around your wait, his gloves on your hands and the way he laughed whenever you complained about getting snow in your face made you feel warmer then you have all day.

But you two almost started a whole snowball fight by the time you both walked into your warmer home,

“just so you know I would have kicked your butt in a snowball fight”

you stick your tongue out at him childishly as you two shed your wet winter outerwear

“yeah sure you could’ve” he pokes fun at you and you just walk off, the destination the kitchen for something hot to drink.

“I’m gonna turn on the heat okay?” you hear Kiri call out from the living room as you grab two mugs waiting for the water to heat up on the stove. You can hear the sound of the fake fireplace you have in your living room come on and sigh, feeling the deep chill leave you slowly. Once the cups of tea are done, you grab them carefully and join Kirishima in the living room, the lights are down low and he is watching the snowfall outside.

Cozy, soft and warm is all you can think about

“It seems we missed the worst of it” he turns to you as you hand him is cup “maybe we might get snowed in together” he sends you a wink and you just plop down next to him on the couch (mindful of your hot mug)

“Somehow I don’t think you would mind that''

you smirk and sip your tea, curling up to Kirishima’s side “m’ warm..” Kiri throws his arm around your shoulders

“I’m no todoroki but at least I can keep you warm with my body heat” It's perfect.

It seems hours go by of you two staying as close as possible together and chatting aimlessly about anything that came to mind. Taking out your goodies you both bought, Kirishima keeps a tiny box close to his side out of your sight till

“I picked up one more thing...” you tilt your head to the side “what is it?” He grabs the box “It’s not much but I think it would be cute to have..”

he opens it to reveal two matching heart lockets. Your initials engraved on them, you stare at them in shock and Kirishima just laughs “You like them? Here let me put yours on...” He turns you around and takes one of the necklaces out, placing it on you carefully while letting his fingers gloss over your shoulders

“there now it's really beautiful...” you finally get the words out and call him a dork but the look in your eyes tells him you really like it and the kiss you two share is just a little bonus. The snow keeps falling outside, you two are sure it's colder than it was when you two were outside but that doesn’t matter. It can keep snowing, in fact let it snow after all you and Kirishima are far too warm inside together to mind.

[greenninjagal-blog]

Can you talk a bit about your miraculous au? I love the one shot so much and would sell my soul for more info!! I feel very sorry for Virgil and wonder what he’s going to do next?

I can definitely talk about my aus. The question is will I shut up about them before I reveal the whole plot. ;D

So in my miraculous au, which curious people can find [here], it centers around Dante Ekans and Virgil Storm and their complicated history. Through a series of accidents and really good timing, Dante discovered a bag of magic jewelry and accidentally becomes the new guardian of the miraculous, which are being tracked down by a specialized military force under the control of a high ranking executive who sees them as a way to conquer the world.

Dante is 100% ready to undermine the rules of society and so he messes around with each of the miraculous becoming friends with the kwamis until he meets Trixx and is like “oh yeah, shit, this is mine.” and then he starts testing the waters to see what he can get away with while being the Faux Fox: robbing banks that fund the special localize military forces, creating illusions to terrorize any forces in public areas, stopping petty crime that the soldiers refuse to. Government propaganda label his hero persona as a menace to society, but for growing pockets of people, he becomes a symbol of their hope.

Virgil is in love with Dante 120%. He actively ignores this fact most of the time. Dante also loves him back, but he’s convinced he missed his shot two years ago after he destroyed their friendship.

Logan runs a blog dedicated to free speech and uncensored reporting, which Dante discovered because the more he uses the Fox miraculous the more sensitive he gets to when people are deceiving others. He picks Logan to wear the Dragon Miraculous about five minutes after Virgil refuses to help him and then casually just...doesn’t take it back. Logan loves listening to Longg talk because they can have actually intellectually stimulating conversations.

Patton is perpetually filled with anger at the world, which is why Dante starts to notice him: he puts on a show of being a happy, pappy patton, underneath it he’s planning murder 9 times out 10. When the military starts sending soldiers to watch over the school (because they estimated that Faux Fox and Wyvern were high schoolers), Dante transforms into the fox and gifts Patton the Peacock Miraculous to turn everyone’s fears into undefeatable monsters that drive out the soldiers. He can also low level influence emotions the more he wears the broach. Patton and Duusu watch sad movies just to cry together, okay.

Roman only gets the bee miraculous because Dante was moving the locations of where he was hiding the miraculous and there was a fire that forced him to stash the jewelry and run to go save people, but unfortunately the bee dropped from the hiding spot and Roman noticed. Roman’s power actually turns out to be “Hivemind” which is once he activates it he has ten seconds to touch as many people as he can and all those people fall under his control, until he loses his miraculous or loses concentration. He challenges the Fox to a duel of who can be the better hero-- which gets interrupted by the military and they both have to scatter. 

It takes Dante all one day to figure out who has the bee comb, but when he goes to take it from Roman he overhears Pollen and Roman talking and....well... Dante doesn’t think that Roman made too bad of a hero. 

He regrets it the next week when Remus finds out that Roman has magic jewelry and demands a chance to take it for a spin. He has the ability called “Cling” which is something that actually bees have where he naturally builds up a negative charge which he can use to make things cling to him or make them cling to something or someone he touches. He and Pollen are cool, but Remus realizes after that first time that he’s not really...a good fit with the bee miraculous. Doesn’t stop him from being jealous of Roman, or from pestering his brother to let him borrow it to go jump off some buildings.

The first time Virgil puts on the butterfly brooch is a month later when the military decides the best course of action is to set a trap for the active miraculous users that involved real people and real guns. Without any other options the fox, the dragon, the peacock and the bee (Roman) jump in the protect and defend, without much of a decent plan. and Virgil realizes that if he doesn’t do something Dante will die. Lucky for him there happens to be another equally motivated person watching the chaos and just wishing to have the power to save his brother.

So Remus becomes Virgil’s first akuma, gifting him the abilities of minor creation in order to help the heroes escape. And then Dante has the nerve to laugh and say “Finally! I knew you would put it on some day!”

Cue immense rage from Virgil, that leads him to telling Remus that he can keep these powers if he just gets that necklace off the Fox. And Remus who has been wanting powers since forever, is like “neat!”

Virgil and Nooroo get along swimmingly just as long as Virgil doesn’t talk about why he’s so adamant about getting the Fox miraculous off of Dante or what he’ll do if he does, and Nooroo doesn’t ask questions about it. 

((That’s like the first “arc”. The second arc then starts covering how Dante found the miraculous, and what happened to the previous users. Specifically, Thomas Sanders the Ladybug miraculous wielder and the guardian. Lets just say that Joan shows up back from a trip across the world and finds out that Thomas supposedly gave a bunch of kids miraculous and they aren’t exactly happy  about it. New Battle for the Miraculous, anyone?))

(((I have some more things like Monkey miraculous wielder Talyn showing up and Dante and Virgil finally talking face to face about what happened two years ago that broke up their relationship. Roman, Logan, and Patton all end up in a relationship where they are keeping their miraculous a secret from each other and Remus’s lack of a miraculous becomes really important. Also... Did you know the ladybug miraculous...can be used for bad?? )))

So yeah!! I told you its hard to get me to shut up about my aus. I did some resigns for the boys that I’ll be dropping some time in the future hopefully [here]! Additionally, you’ll probably notice I hedged around the time limit of the miraculous purely because I haven’t decided if I like those rules. I might go more towards the more in sync you are with the miraculous the more time and power you have to do things, so people like Joan and Talyn can use their powers mulitple times without a recharge, where as Dante can go one big illusion, or several small ones before he needs a recharge.

[sokayisaidiot]

#Longer than Forever Au

Storyline:

Tubbo is sick since he was born. And soon he will Die. Imprisoned in a Hospital he wants to do the things he dreamed of.                                                   Tommy is bored, being a troublemaker, he wants a big adventure. He comes to visit his adopted Father Phil, who had a little accident with his other brothers Techno and Wilbur. He didn't expect to meet the sick lonely boy Tubbo. 

Shocked, for that faith, that awaits Tubbo, he takes Tubbo, the credit card of his family, some of the coolest Nerfguns and his most fast bike, to do the impossible...

Characters:

Tommy:

16

he is a known class clown, troublemaker and fight starter in school

likes playing video games

has good grades, despite not even paying attention at school

got adopted with Wilbur and Techno when he was around 5

always has the needs to mess himself with everybody

got his necklace from Wilbur and the earring from Techno

you see him in this outfit probably every day, since he says its defining his character

has the sass from Techno

would give everything to make his small family proud

played Soccer for some years, but went off the team, when they started bickering him

Techno, Wilbur and Phil had a talk with those kids parents the next day

wanted to change the color of his hair too, but Wilbur stopped him at the last second

has a bike with a bee bell

can listen to rules, but doesn't

cuts the hair of Tubbo and gives his family old clothes to him

pizza is probably his most favorite thing to eat

knows the country like his pockets

got super protective of Tubbo

Tubbo:

17

has a longlasting sickness that will kill him in a week or two

has a older Brother called Clay, but Calls him Clay

always asks if someone is gay

gets the necklace of Tommy

Tommy told him it was to make sure, that they were always together

loves hugs and gives plenty

always positive, despite dying in a week or so

has a way of making friends with everybody

but still can be badass as hell

when he and Tommy get into a argument, he rans away and gets an asthma attack. He is uncioncess when Tommy finds him in Panic. Tommy took care of Tubbo and both hugged each other for good 10 minutes

since then, Tommy is always by Tubbos side and refuses to leave him for the rest of the time

when he saw Tommys earring and said, that he wanted a earring too, Tommy took his arm and went to the next piercing store

never takes the clothes of, that Tommy first gave him

went from Strangers, to good friends to best friends with Tommy

Tommy was very happy to have a “younger Brother”

thanks to Tommy, he also learned swimming, car driving and how to bake finished pizza

already met Techno, Wilbur and Philza at the hospital, when they went on a check on

was surprised to see Tommy climbing outside of his hospital window, to get him in the night

cried when he saw his first fireworks and ocean view

loves the bee on Tommys bike

Techno:

19

middle Brother of Wilbur and Tommy

loves his brothers to the death and went into many fights for them

but sometimes causes them

has a love for growing potatoes, so for his 16 birthday, Philza and the boys got him a little farmpot

he sometimes makes potatoes for Family dinner

Wilbur said, he can't see potatoes anymore

actually becomes a teacher

knows Dream, Eret, George and the others from High School and still has contact with them

can and WILL tease Tommy about his height and age

takes a liking to Tubbo

helps Tommy and Tubbo going on their adventure without them knowing it

goes on extra jobs, telling his high school friends to help them, packing some obvious stuff extra in Tommys Backpack to survive and taking care, that his other Family members don't get crazy

Wilbur:

21

was adopted at the age of 6

the oldest son, but one with the most worries and not calming thoughts, while Tommy and Tubbo are on their adventure

first tries to stop those two, but then letting those two live Tubbo´s final moments together

was adopted with Techno at the same time

he found Tommy when him and Techno went grocery shopping in the rain. They saw a boy in alley way on the age of 5. Techno and him tried to talk to him and when the boy hissed at the Techno simply picked him up, threw him over his shoulder and walked home with him. When Philza tried to greet them, he was met with a hissing and kicking boy, red and purple marks all over his body. They agreed to adopt his boy. When they first meet his parents, all of them were full of rage. But Wilbur was the first and only one to punch in that meeting

he loves music and on special holidays, he gives a little concert

has a hate-love relationship with potatoes

goes to a University to study music

was the fastest one to trust Philza

got his guitar with the age of 7 for his birthday and couldn't stop crying for an hole hour

Philza:

30

happy but tired dad of three chaotic demons

went to various conventions with his sons

telling other parents how much nerds his kids were, but isn't really better

is the father to watch anime

got his sons to watch Bleach completely with him, they fell asleep after a while, but Philza insisted that they watched it

goes to every parent meeting and either brags or protects his kids

makes tournaments with his sons friends

basically every friend of his sons or child he sees, he adopts it

has Dad puns ready and WILL use them

was concerned with Tommy disappearing but greatly understand the reason I´with it

still grounded Tommy with watching an Anime with him

there aren't many ways to make him angry, but when he's angry, he's angry

Supports his children in every way he can

Cried by every theater where his kids played with, even if there were just the trees or musican

has the best advice for everybody

wanted to adopt Tubbo the moment he met him

has a shop called, “24 for Philza” and he lives with the boys over on the apartment

Dream/Clay:

19

Tommys older brother

a police men in training with Sapnap

comes visit Tubbo every weekend with his boyfriend George

taught Tubbo, Tommy and Techno sass

he learned the sass himself from George

wears a ring as a necklace

wants to ask George to marry him

Tried to stop Tubbo and Tommy and almost went through with it

“bullies” Tommy

but has a close relationship with their family

can hunt like a wolf, but otherwise can't hurt a fly

Tommy learned through him, to take care of his precious stuff

trusts Tommy his brothers life on

is very caring and a little overprotective 

killed a men one time with the help of techno, when someone tried to kill George and Tommy, while a raid in a store

you want to mess with him, you need your testament ready

rival of techno

George:

20

boyfriend of Dream

is a journalist

loves Tubbo and taught him to be more confident

also promised to make an article about him, when they finished their adventure

helped Tommy and Tubbo escape to their rest of the journey

knows that Dream wants to propose to him

helped Tommy and his family, when someone tried shit talking their store, when he wrote a whole article about “24 for Philza being the best store in town”

officially the “better and more intelligent” part of Dream

always visits Tommys family with Dream

they already agreed of making Tommy flower boy and lost his parents so Philza will be walking him down the aisle

when Tubbo was four and his first night alone in the hospital, George gave Tubbo a plush Bee, since then he had a love and fascination with Bees

only one to keep his boyfriend in place

Sapnap:

18

has a motorcycle and helped Tubbo and Tommy on a part of their journey

loves to make Tommy angry

best man to Dream next to Techno

got Tubbo to watch all the different movies and teacher him about cuss words as well as punching

also learns to be a police men

was a part of the journey group for a while

made many pictures of Tubbo and Tommy

can and will beat anyone up, who is talking shit about the Philza family

wears a bandana with the argument, that he is always ready for a fight

was the one to teach Tommy how to ride a bike

trusts everybody with their life and has some outside connections

Badboyhalo & Skeppy:

22 & 20

a couple who is married and lives on the beach

they don't tell anybody, that Tommy and Tubbo were in a guest room in there house, since they have connections to their family

know Tommy, from when he was younger

Skeppy loves to make fun and Bad scolds sometimes, but he also, is giggling

they have various pets, since they live on a farm

found Tommy and Tubbo sleeping one morning on the beach and invited them in and Tommy remembered them

Skeppy had a similar sickness to Tubbo, but survived

they were the first once to get postcards

Tommy is calling them Uncle´s lovely, even if he says, because there so old

told Tommy when they both could go and washed their clothes for them again

Eret:

24

just your average business man

a old friend of Wilbur

found the boys wandering in the city lost and gave them something to eat

immediately befriended Tubbo and Tommy muttered something from betrayal

gave the boys two of his sunglasses and train tickets for the rest of their journey

promised Tubbo to come with sunglasses to his funeral, which he nodded along, laughing sadly

Fundy:

18

boy from the village, where they went watching Fireworks

got them a place in his tree house

spent the rest three days with the two boys

showed them around in the village

wasn't by Tubbos side, when he died, since he didn't know

Extras

Tommy cut Tubbos hair, saying he didn't need to look like rapunzel

Tommy played various pranks on Tubbo, but getting angry, when Tubbo finds it nice

Tubbo and Tommy went at least 5 times to McMonalds or Gurger King for Tubbo to get the taste, what he missed out

they Day when the fireworks came, was Tubbos Birthday, when he saw them he cried. It would be one of the last things he would see in his life

when it was time, Tubbo laid in Tommys lap and looked up in the sky

Tubbos last words were:

“Thank you for this nice Birthday gift. I never could ask for more than you as my best Friend”

then he closed his eye and took his last breath. Tommy just managed a tearful grin, when he said: “Me too, thank you, Double Trouble forever”. Those were the last words Tubbo heard

he still smiled when he died

when the other villager saw Tommy and Tubbo one recognized them and the police as well as the ambulance was called

Tommy went with Tubbo on the ambulance, despite Tubbo being dead

when most of his family and friends arrived they all hugged him. All of them cried

Tommy refused to leave Tubbos body for the first four hours and just with long talking, they got him home

at home he didn't got in any problems, just a quick clap on the head and then a hug from all of them

they told how brave and die it was of him, to give Tubbo his own decisions in his life 

On Tubbos funeral, everything he loved the most, was in his coffin: The white Bandana of Sapnap, the sunglasses of Eret, Fundys fox mask, their selfie of Badboyhalo, Skippy, Tommy and himself, the article George wrote about him and his journey, Dreams mask, Technos and Wilburs earring and necklace on his body, the hat of Philza and Tommys bee bell

he wore the clothes he first wore, when the adventure started

the funeral was pretty small and depressive but then came Tommy with his talk about Tommy (maybe another post, if ya wanna)

then when he came back to school, Tommy stood up for children with deadly diseases and became the next year school representation...

[agustdomain]

sorry I’m a bad boy

unrequested drabble about the bad boy back in town, aiming to keep his promises to his girl. Is it too late?

Warnings: Language, Suggestive content

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

“You know who’s looking for you, right?” 

Your friend was fresh with youth, it seemed. That, or ignorance. All day, everyone you came across in this nosy ass town buzzed about you like bees, the same name filling your ears. You didn’t expect your best friend to be just another bee attracted to the honey. 

“Yes, I know. Yes, he’s back in town. Yes, he’s looking for me. No, I don’t care.” That was a lie, but you needed to put on a brave face. You hadn’t seen Changbin in six months; the least you could do is pretend you didn’t care.

Rosé gave you that famous look of hers, the one that told you she knew exactly how afraid and lost you were feeling. “Seems like you’ve heard that way too much today.”

“I have.”

“Why don’t we get out of here then?”

And that’s how, instead of going to your 4:30 class, you skipped it to grab a burger and fries with your favorite person on Earth. You know it was only a matter of time before Rosé stopped being generous by filling the silence. Her fidgeting was her tell: she was dying to know where your mind was at. 

How were you supposed to feel when the boy you were in love with your entire life reappeared after months of being M.I.A.?

His stupid promises filtered into your head as you drowned one fry in ketchup, dunking it over and over as each sentence rolled through your head. 

I’ll come back for you. 

I’ll always love you. 

I’m always going to be bad for you, don’t forget that. 

I might be leaving, but I’ll never leave you. 

You can trust me. 

I won’t ever change. I promise that. 

Sorry I’m a bad boy. 

You scoffed aloud, your attention finding the fry that had long been broken in half. How symbolic.  

“Do you think… he knows about you and Jisung?”

You gave her an unamused look. “What’s to know? I don’t like Jisung like that.”

Rosé bit into her burger and chewed slowly before saying, “Yeah, but you know Jisung is going around telling everyone you’re his girlfriend.”

You knocked your head back and groaned. “I told him to stop doing that shit! I’m not going to date him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s delusional. Has been since we were kids.” Rosé really looked worried about you, and because of that you couldn’t look at her. She added, “Chances are, he’s heard about it.”

“Of course he has. In this shithole of a town, gossip travels fast,” You felt bad for calling your home that, but you were in a bad mood and it doesn’t mix well with the familiarity of a small town. 

Rosé looked thoughtful again as she sipped from her soda before her eyes grew wide, “Oh my gosh. This isn’t good. They hate each other.”

“I know.”

“Once Changbin hears, he’s going to go apeshit. And when Jisung hears he’s back, he already knows he lost you to him. It’s a lose lose.”

“Why would he care? He’s the one that left me in the first place.”

You ignored her disapproving look, wanting to wallow in your despair. She never let you have your moments, though.

“You know that’s not true. The two of you were absolutely in love. He would travel the galaxy for you. You said it yourself, the only way he was going to escape bad influences is if he left.”

“But…” It bubbled over then, and you hated it. You thought you had escaped it, had managed to chase it away. It had only settled and waited until it was time to erupt. “But he said he wouldn’t leave me. He said he was leaving, but vowed to keep in contact with me. He said it would be like he never left. Tell me why I haven’t gotten one phone call, one text. Nothing. I mean nothing to him.

“He commanded my heart with the flick of his wrist. I was played by him, and I should’ve known better!” By now, you were yelling, your face red and the burger joint silent, likely eavesdropping to spread your outburst across town. “Changbin is nothing but a walking cliché. A stupid bad boy who had nothing better to do than go around seeing how many hearts he could break. Worthless promises, nothing but worthless words from his mouth. Am I supposed to jump for joy now that he’s back? Please, I’d rather date Jisung than face his bullshit again.”

Rosé stared for a moment, her mind working to figure out how to make things right. She couldn’t, but you loved her for trying. Slapping money down on the table, she grabbed your wrist. “I was wrong. Your favorite meal isn’t enough to cure this despair. Let’s go.”

Tugging you out of the burger place, complaints fell past your lips, not really paying attention to your surroundings. Coming to an abrupt stop in front of you, you slammed into her. 

“Hey! What’s your problem-” Stepping around her, the reason became as vivid as the figure in front of you. Sleek black Impala parked, the same one you had spent way too many nights in doing way too many unspeakable things. Leaning up against its trunk, the boy with all the promises he couldn’t keep, his eyes shining as he looked at you. 

Was his hair darker, or was your memory poisoned? Were his eyes warmer? His clothing was just as dark as you remembered, though he looked a lot more filled out. 

He was perfect. Still, he managed to wring your insides tight, making it hard to breathe. If possible, it hurt even more seeing him now than it did when you had to watch his back as he walked away from you the last time. 

“Y/N.”

“Let’s go, Rosé,” You thought you were in control. Quickly, you realized you weren’t.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Your heart dropped as you saw the apologetic look on your best friend’s face, “He convinced me to bring you here. I think it’ll be good to talk to him. I’ll be inside.”

The betrayal that twisted your heart stung your eyes. Really, you knew it was because you couldn’t handle being around him again. All these months, you ached to smell his scent, his body wash and him. You wanted to smell that stupid air freshener in his car, hear that stupid CD he replayed over and over. You wanted him. 

Now that he was here, you wanted everything but. 

You closed your eyes as the streetlights shut on, his heavy footsteps nearing until they stopped in front of you. Was your mind playing a trick on you or was his actual scent reaching your nose? The tears spilling from your closed eyes were embarrassing, so you squeezed your eyes tighter. Clenched fist, aching heart, crickets crying for their mates, you wished deeply this wasn’t happening. 

It was too soon for you to realize all you wanted was to fall into his arms.

“Oh Y/N,” No. He wasn’t allowed to be in pain. Who gave him the right to waltz back in and out whenever he wanted?

You flinched when his fingers brushed a tear away. Peeking to see his hurt expression, you turned away. “What do you want, Changbin? Come to laugh in my face?”

His face scrunched up from the corner of your eye. “No. That’s bullshit and you know it. You know why I’m here.”

“Why?” You faced him, courage slowly but surely building as your eyes trailed to meet his. His courage faded as he stepped back, resolve crumbling as he had to stare the outcome of his actions in the face. “You think I’m just going to accept you back with open arms? You think I’m going to come running when everyone tells me you’re back? Jumping for joy?”

He was frowning but you continued, needing to or else you would implode. 

“If you’re so big and bad, why are you here? Why aren’t you sporting some brand new girlfriend to rub in my face? I’m sure there was plenty, considering you never reached out to me. How’s that for a cliché? The bad boy makes promises he can’t keep. Well, news flash. I’m not the stupid girl who falls for your lies again.”

“Y/N…”

“And I don’t want to hear any insincere apology that I know you’re waiting to say. You expected me to wait for you. You expected me to hang onto your every word, hang onto this fantasy that you loved me. I’m better than that. I’m better than this.”

“Y/N, would you listen to me?”

“No. You don’t deserve that.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“There’s nothing you could say that would make this right. So you don’t.”

“How would you know that?” His eyes were narrowed now, annoyed. How dare he.

“Because I do.”

“Stellar answer. Wouldn’t expect anything else from the Hotheaded queen herself.”

Inhaling heavily, you searched your mind for anything to say. Instead, you couldn’t help but swear at yourself as your eyes lingered on his face. He was still as stunning as he was in the past. You were such a fool. And he? A snake. 

“What do you want from me, Changbin?”

At the sound of his name, you caught how he had an intake of breath. You ignored the pang in your chest. Your eyes trailed down. He was still wearing the silver car-wheel necklace you had given him a year ago. You wanted to rip it off. 

“I want to hear your voice.”

You laughed. He ignored you.

“I want to hear every single detail of your days. I want to know what shows you’ve been watching, what music you’ve been listening to, if you continued on using that detergent you decided to try out. Are you still using the same body spray? How’s Galaxy? She was a kitten the last time I saw her. Bet she’s still causing havoc.” 

Was it a trick of the streetlight or were his eyes glistening?

He stepped closer, you looking down at him from the edge of the pavement. He was in the road, blocking a parking spot but that was the least of his concerns as he stared up at you. Laughing forcibly, you held your breath as his fingers cautiously skimmed the back of your hand. You let him.  

“I want to lie next to you again, watch the expressions you make when you sleep. I want you to wake me up in the middle of the night and pepper my face with kisses when you have a bad dream, and hug me from behind when you know I had one myself. I want to hear your laugh. I want to make your coffee, even though I always mess it up. How many times have you watched Good Will Hunting without me? I know I always complained, but I loved it just as much as you did.”

He was inches away from you now, and you uncontrollably drew closer. He was magnetic, glowing like the angel he was. A few lies from his mouth and he was an angel again. Were they lies? You didn’t know, but you could feel yourself slipping. 

“I told you I was coming back for you. I never left, not really, not when the best part of me is still here. I can’t change who I am, and how I needed to get away to become better. I need to be a better man for you. I did what I had to. I’m sorry for not reaching out to you. I know I can’t make it up to you in a day. I’m bad, always have been. But I did what I had to in order to keep from running back. Trust me, I would have the second I heard your voice.”

How were you supposed to be mad at him when he was speaking to you in that tone, when his fingers were on your skin, when his presence was surrounding you? 

“Y/N,” he sang your name now. That’s how it always sounded, since the moment he introduced himself and stole your heart. You remember when you were fifteen, the first time he really caught your attention in school. How his flirty smile always felt a little different than the others. He really had you since the moment you met.

“Changbin.” Even you were giving in. You couldn’t help it, not when he was this close. This close in six months. 

He waited, hands comfortably on your waist and head tipped up as he looked at you. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, brushing them off before fiddling with his collar. Your fingers skimmed across his neck, and you watched as his lips parted, a look you knew all too well washing over his eyes. 

Heavy lidded, he waited. 

Hands gripping your waist, he waited. 

Your fingers were massaging the back of his neck, thrilled at the same effect you had on him. The heat was closing in, the light fading away as you were washed away by the ocean you were drawn to since you were a girl. 

Just as your lips grazed his, blinding headlights and a car horn startled you out of his grip as you jumped back. Changbin was less affected, annoyed as he looked over his shoulder at the car trying to pull into the spot he currently occupied. You pulled him up onto the sidewalk, but not before noticing the look building on his face as he waited for the driver to get out of his car. He was pissed. 

And you? You were scared. 

You recognized the car all too well. 

“Y/N! I’ve been looking all over for you! I was going to take you home after class!” Jisung was all smiles, but you didn’t miss the lingering look on Changbin. 

“Hey Park. It’s pretty fucking obvious what happened,” Changbin barely waited for Jisung to finish. 

The smile disappeared so fast from the happy boy, it was unsettling. “Was I talking to you?”

“No, but I figured I would do you a favor and spare you the embarrassment. You always manage to make a fool out of yourself.”

Jisung slammed his car door shut. You began sweating, the danger on their faces spurring you into action as you stepped between them. That didn’t break their staredown. 

“I don’t appreciate your attitude. Given the fact that you ran away from home like a little bitch, I wouldn’t go around acting like a tough guy.”

Changbin laughed stepping closer. Placing your hand on his chest, you pressed firmly and waited for him to look at you. His anger disappeared as he regarded you, a lingering sadness swimming in his face. You needed to do something. 

Turning to Jisung, you said, “Jisung, please. Go.”

He frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t make this harder.”

His voice cracked, the pain seeping through. “You’re really going to choose him? After leaving you? Breaking your heart? You’re still going to choose him over me?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wished you could take away his pain. Before you could say anything else, he was in his car and went as quickly as he came. You were in Changbin’s previous place now, facing the parking lot and wondering where your place was in this town. All you had been was a shell of your past self these last few months, and it was all because of Changbin. Is that who you were? Just Changbin’s girl?

No. You were more than that. 

This time, when his hands found yours, you pulled away. You ignored his pain as best you could as you shook your head. “I can’t just forget what you did. You destroyed what we were when you vowed you wouldn’t. You know how hard it was for me to trust you. You used that against me, made me fall in love with you, just so you could shoot me in the heart.”

“I-”

“No. No, Changbin. You’re not who I thought you were. And I’m not the Y/N I once was. And I won’t put myself through that again. I will always love you, but I love myself more. So let me breathe.”

He took a step back, the defenses you had spent years breaking down building up right before your eyes. If you had known how easy it was to keep from loving him, you wonder if you would have gone back in time and stopped anything from happening. 

Figuring it was done, you turned away and headed for the entrance to the burger joint. Just as you reached the door, his words stopped you in your tracks. 

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I would be back for you. And when I knew I had to be a better man for you the next time I saw you. I’ll respect your wishes. But I will prove to you that I will love you right for the rest of my life. I will always be yours, Y/N.”

You only looked at him one last time before going inside. When you sat across from Rosé and got the courage to look out the window, that Impala you knew all too well was gone. 

And as the sensation of his lips lingered on your own, you answered your own thoughts. 

No, you would never go back in time and erase everything you had with him. No matter the outcome, he will always be the boy that taught you how to love. 

Coming back for you, huh? 

You’ll believe that when you see it.

[itsanerdlife]

Come Back to Me 9/20

Pairing: Clint Barton x Coulson’s Daughter!Reader

Warning: Angst. Drama. Struggles. Violence? Lying. Anger. Soul shattering ache in your chest. Self hate. Doubts. Plot twist!

Everything slips right through his hands in the blink of an eye. Clint Barton can fix anything. World Ending? Save it. Bad Guys? Take ‘em out. The love of his life, his soul mate, forgetting their whole relationship? Fight even harder. She might not remember what they have. She might be confused, lost, scared, but it’ll be a cold day in hell if she thinks he’ll give up that easy. He’ll do anything he has too. Help her remember, or make her fall in love with him, all over again. But what if it’s not him that she’s getting close to this time? What if it’s a losing fight? Is he supposed to watch the woman he loves, fall for someone else? Like hell, is he letting that happen.

Tag List Is Open!!

“Nat?” He jumps out of his seat quickly. The other rising as well.

“She knows there are things missing. She’s confused and panicked, but its strange.” She pauses. “It’s like her body, her heart, know. But her brain isn’t in on the loop.” She explains.

“Why do you say that?” Wanda wonders.

“She keeps saying she has these feelings. Understanding, forgiveness, comfort. She panicked when I said their was an accident, she thought you were hurt.” Nat looks directly at him.

“Did you tell her?” He swallows.

“Yeah.” She smiles.

“How did she react?” Peter asks.

“About the same as us when we found out too.” She shrugs.

“Shock, confusion, and amazed.” Tony nods.

“Pretty much.” Nat nods. “She agreed to see all of you. But I have a project for all of us. Strange and Palmer said we should try to remind her. I want all of you to collect the photos you have, from over the years. So she has something to look through.”

“I’ll pull everything I have.” Peter nods. “I’ll collect them, put them together for her.”

“Thank you.” Nat smiles at him.

“She wants to see all of us?” Bucky stands looking unsure.

“She said she can’t explain it, but she forgives you.” Nat smiles at her husband. “Come on. They want to take her for more testing, so we won’t get to stay long.” She explains as they head for the room.

She sat in bed, watching them as they come into the room. There are moments of confusion and yet something in her eyes, tells them somewhere she knows them. He stands off to the side, not wanting to crowd, or push himself on her. He would just be thankful, happy she woke from a distance.

“Sam Wilson.” She smiles. The team exchanges a look.

“I knew you’d remember me.” Sam chuckles.

“It’s been years.” She sighs.

“For you.” Sam winks. 

“Right, right, apparently just for me.” She nods. “How did you come to join the team? Don’t tell me I dragged you.” She looks worried.

“Nah, Captain America asked for my help.” Sam assures her.

“How do you know Sam?” Steve looks over.

“That team I was apart of.” Sam nods. “We answered to her.”

“Wait you were head of the special ops team?” Nat looks bewildered.

“Oh please, you think my dad just had me tucked away for safe keeping?” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got secrets.” She pauses. “Apparently a lot more that I don’t know myself.” Her brow tugs together.

“So that’s how you remember him. Because you knew him before he joined.” Tony nods slowly.

“Who could forget that big ass forehead.” Bucky snickers. Sam glares at him.

“Bucky.” Her head tips, watching the man.

“You don’t remember me. Probably for best.” He nods. She pauses, clearly thinking about something.

“No I don’t. I’m sorry.” She sighs. “But this, this feeling in my chest.” She reaches up, her hand on her chest. Her fingers absent mindedly play with her necklace. “I’m not mad, I’m sorry. Whatever happened, I don’t blame you.”

“I do.” Buck shrugs. She giggles. Surprising all them and herself included. She slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Are you laughing?” He lifts a brow at her.

“I’m sorry.” She continues to giggle into her hand. “It’s just, I lost my memories.” She laughs. “I hit my head on his arm and it’s not funny.” She laughs. “But it’s funny.” She shakes with laughter.

“Is she okay?” Steve looks over at Strange.

“Some people cry, some people rebel, and some people, find humor.” Strange shrugs.

“It’s not funny.” She snorts. “But it’s funny.”

“You’re a messed up girl Y/N.” Tony chuckles.

“I might be. I can’t remember.” She snickers. Nat laughs, slapping a hand over her own mouth. “Oh god that’s funny. Wow.” She nods slowly coming down from her laughing.

“Some people deal with stress with laughter. If you really think about it. She was never really an overly emotional person before.” Peter rattles off. Y/N looks over at him, a small smile on her lips.

“Peter, I’m going to guess. Stark’s child.” She nods.

“Pretty much.” Peter shrugs.

“Of course you’re boy genius.” She stops, blinking quickly as everyone watches her.

“Y/N?” Clint watches her. She shivers suddenly. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. It was like something clicked into place.” She spoke softly. “I could smell coffee, and old books, I was laughing at something, there was a hissing noise and he was cursing holding his hand.” She looks over at Peter.

“I zapped myself in the lab.” Peter lights up. “That’s my lab, it smells like coffee and old books. You hang out with me in there.” 

“Is that a memory?” Palmer moves towards her.

“No I couldn’t really see it. It was really blurry and moving fast. Ah you know when you go drinking and ride the tea cups at Disney World?” She looks at Palmer.

“Y/N.” Nat smiles.

“What?”

“That was my bachelorette party. We got drunk at Disney and rode rides till the guys had to come pick us up.” Nat grins.

“But I don’t know that.” She blinks at Nat.

“Your memories will come back in pieces, something things will come out of your mouth, but they won’t make sense to your brain. Your brain is still trying to heal itself. So it won’t always be in connect with things.” Palmer explains.

“I want to take her for that scan.” Strange nods.

“We’ll set it up.” Palmer nods, together they leave.

“We have a project to work on, but hopefully you get to leave Med Bay soon.” Nat explains to her.

“Yeah, hopefully.” She nods. The team slowly shuffles out. He leans on the wall, watching her for a moment. He pushes off to leave with the others. “Clint?” She calls softly. He looks up, stopping in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“Can you answer a few things for me?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course.” He nods, moving towards the end of her bed.

“Four years. That’s a long time.” She sighs.

“Been the best four years I’ve had.” He shrugs. She smiles and it’s like seeing her again.

“I don’t, I can’t explain that.” She admits, flushing.

“It’s okay.” He nods.

“Do we live together? Here?” She wonders.

“We do. We have for about three years.”

“We don’t have kids or are married or anything crazy right?” She looks a little nervous.

“No, no we don’t. Ah no, we’re not married, we agreed to let Nat and Bucky enjoy their spotlight first.” She looks almost sad. “We own a farm house together, though.” He nods.

“We do? Why?” Her head tips.

“It’s like a vacation home.” He shrugs a small smile on his lips.

“Huh.” She nods slowly.

“What?”

“I can’t remember any of it. But that line, the best four years you’ve had.”

“It wasn’t a line.”

“I feel like I’m floating in dark waters, and that, all that. It’s like a lifesaver keeping me floating.” She shrugs. “I don’t think that makes sense.” Her nose crinkles.

“Makes perfect sense.” He nods.

“If they let me leave. Is it weird I go to our home?” She wonders.

“Not at all. Might help you. We have a spare room on our floor. I can take that if you want.” He nods. “I would like to be where I know. I’m not worried about rooms right now.” She admits.

“We’ll work it out.” He nods.

“We’re going to take her, if that’s okay.” Cho steps into the room.

“Yeah. I’ll check on you later.” Clint nods.

“I’d like that.” She smiles softly.

Wasn’t much, a spark, but it was enough for him right now. He managed to make her fall in love with him before. If he had to, he would do it again.

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

Everything Peaches 9/3/19 @mo320​ @courtmr​ @avxgers​ @eliza-kat​ @irepeldirt​ @jordan-ia​ @jcc04220​ @dumblani​ @nishanki1  

@allyp1023​ @joannie95​ @rogvewitch​ @rileyloves5​ @sarahp879​ @sexyvixen7​ @doctoranon​ @queentoffee @abschaffer2​ @tony-stank3​ @tomhardy41​ @bookluver01​ @drayshadow​ @teller258316​ @wandressfox​ @cutekittybast​ @amandab-ftw​ @carostar2020​ @thelostallycat​ @henrietteoaks​ @nea90sweetie​ @circusofchaos​ @bettercallsabs​ @miraclesoflove​ @queenkrissy11​ @shield-agent78​ @elite4cekalyma​ @sadyoungadult​ @destiel-artemis​ @isabelcrichards​ @iwillbeinmynest​ @sweet-honey15​ @scooby-doodoo​ @chanelmadrid13​ @killerbumblebee​ @spookygrantaire​ @geeksareunique​ @supernatural508​ @itzmegaaaaaaan​ @optimistic-babes​ @elizabethaellison​ @rainbowkisses31​ @aspiringtranslator​ @mariekoukie6661​ @pure-princess-97​ @capsheadquaters​ @youclickedthislink​ @futuremrsb-r-main​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @petersunderoos96​ @loving-life-my-way​ @itsy-bitsy-spidergirl​ @buckystolemyheart​ @booktvmoviefangirl​ @thatpeachybandgirl​ @supernatural-girl97​ @abbypalmer14-blog​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @eggingamazinglove​ @deathofmissjackson​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @muffininahandbasket​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @laneygthememequeen​ @writingaworldofmyown​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @shann-the-artist-moon​ @supernaturallover2002​ @daughterofthenight117​ @mcuwillbethedeathofme​ @verymuchclosetedfangirl​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan​ @crazy-little-thing-called-buck​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @stupendoussciencenaturepanda​ @supernatural-strangerthings-1980​

Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton: @ml7010​ @sfreeborn​ @tanelle83​ @coley0823​ @xxloki81xx​ @boltsgirl919​ @carissime72​ @katpatrova17​ @honey-bee-holly​ @marvelfansworld​ @badassbeckettswan​ @fallinginlovewithqueue​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​

CBTM: @lakamaa12​ @alina-barnes​ @one-of-castiels​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @thedoctorlivesthroughbooks​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​

[wayward-mikaelson]

Centuries-Five

Word Count: 2673

Pairing: None 

Characters: Dean, Sam, Hezekiah (OG Character-I picture him like the dude who played Laurent in Twilight and New Moon), Reader, Rowena (Known in this chapter as ‘certain witch’), Michael (Mentioned), Maggie (Mentioned), HooDoo Zombies (not sure if that’s a thing but in this world it is), HooDoo Priestess (Mentioned)

About: Dean worries that he hasn’t heard from the Reader in a week. The Reader has stumbled upon a case that has a whole town trapped not knowing what day it is. The Reader breaks free and finds herself back in Texas and face to face with Hezekiah.

Disclaimer: Language and Angst

A/N: If you are on my tag list and wish to be moved off or to different tag list let me know.

A/N 2: Tag or share to all your favorite SPN Accounts

Forever Tag List: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @magssteenkamp​ @elansaidaris​ @440mxs-wife​ @hobby27​ 

Dean/Jensen Tag List: @akshi8278​ @sandlee44​ @squirrelnotsam​ 

*18+ CONTENT. ANYONE YOUNGER THAN THAT WILL NEED TO MOVE ALONG. I DO NOT WANT TO RISK MY ACCOUNT BEING THANOSED.

**PLEASE DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERSMISSION AND WITHOUT GIVING ME THE PROPER CREDIT. I WORK TOO HARD ON MY STORIES FOR THEM TO BE STOLEN. YOU MAY COPY THE LINK TO THIS STORY AND SHARE IT.

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*****DMS ARE OPEN FOR REQUESTS

Centuries Master List HERE 

Want to read some of my favorite fanfics click HERE

DEANS POV

"It's been a fucking week, man," I pace the kitchen holding the cup of coffee Sam gave to me. "I haven't heard from her since I called her that night." I set the cup down and rub my face.

That phone still plays in my mind. I get why YN left, I really do, but I had just gotten her back myself. I wanted more time with YN before she pulled something like this. I knew her would too. When I pleaded with YN to come back she told me she had to do this alone. She didn't want me near Michael at all. Hell, I didn't want him to come back but things kind of changed but I wanted to do this with you. Then YN said "What if I wanted Michael back because a part of me loved him? I don't want you near if that's the case. I'll call you when I can, Dean."

I hate that YN had some weird ass connection with the archangel that took his body for a joy ride. That used it to stab her. To hurt her. That used it to manipulate her to do his bidding. That used some dream to get into her pants. I shiver remembering when I found out that she and Michael had dream sex. Something that Cas told us that even though in a dream, it was real. That used it to get her killed. I just can't get on bored with YN being in love with him. I just didn't believe her and I knew she would say what ever she needed to keep me out of whatever it is she are doing.

"I'm sure she will call when she calls," Sams doesn't look up from his laptop. "Last I check her phones tracker was lost somewhere outside of New Orleans."

I look up from my coffee. "Why are you tracking her?" Then it hits me, Sam knows. YN told him she killed Maggie. "Dude, if you even think about going after her, I won't hesitate to kick your ass."

Sams looks up and I see the pain and anger in his eyes. I feel for my baby brother, I really do, but I can't let him go after YN. Sam doesn't know how freaked out she had been learning she did kill her best friend. Sam doesn't know how she hid from him in her room. "I'm not going to lie, Dean," Sam closes his laptop. "It crossed my mind a few times this last week but I just know I can't. For all we know Hezekiah, the angel that has her mind on lockdown, could have pulled the strings on this and manipulated her like Michael had."

"Then why are you tracking her still?" I ask firmly. "If you aren't planning on going after her."

Sam leans back and takes a deep breath. "I guess to make sure she's okay, since she hasn't called at all."

I sit back and let out he breath I held in. I know Sam is hurting. I've been in his place where the girl I love has died. Maybe we can find a way to bring Maggie back. I can call Rowena, but she always has some sort of condition. "You said she was somewhere outside of New Orelans?"

"Yep," Sam nods. "Then her tracker literally just fell off the face of the earth. I should also mention I did try to call her but her phone is also out of service when the account says it's still in service."

My heart just barely stops. I know she's in trouble. I get up and make my way to my room to pack. "We should go look for her," I yell towards Sam.

"I know, and she will kill you knowing you didn't listen to her," Sam yells back. It sounds like he's in his room as well packing. Even though YN killed Sam's potential love, he still cared for her. He is still looking on the bright side of all of this.

As I'm throwing things into a bag my phone rings. I look down to see an unknown number. Not many people have this number but it could be someone needing help. I reach down and something tells me that I need to answer this.

"Hello?" my voice is cautious.

"Dean?! Oh thank God!" YNs voice sounds freaked out and out of breath. "How long has it been?"

"Wait, what? Why?" I ask confused.

"I don't have time," she yelled into the phone. I stop what I'm doing and turn around to see Sam in the doorway. I mouth to him that its YN on the line. His face is covered in worry. "Tell me how long it's fucking been since we last talked!"

"A week," I'm suddenly aware of the pounding in the distance over the phone. "Is everything okay? Are you okay? Whats going on?"

I hear some shuffling and banging around. "I accidentally stumbled on a case that involves some dark and heavy hoodoo. What's been a week for you has been only a day for me. I tried to call but my phone wouldn't work. I couldn't even leave either. I killed the witch or hoodoo priestess or whatever the hell you want to call her but when I did, the town folk turned to zombies. Now I'm trapped in a room with the only working phone in town."

I zip up my bag and signal Sam that we were leaving. "Honey, where are you? Sam tracked your phones last ping outside of New Orleans. We are on our way. Just hang tight."

YN gives a small chuckle. "Of course, one of you tracked me. And yes, theres a small town outside of New Orleans but it's not on a map. But I got this Dean, you stay where you are. Theres a window I can jump out of and high tail it to my car. All the magical bearers are gone now that the hoodoo chick is dead."

The sound of banging and wood breaking kills the call. "YN?" I try to call the number back but it's dead. I look at Sam and he sees the fear written all over my face

"I'm assuming we're still going?"

"You bet your ass we are," I turn the key in the ignition and we are on the road in seconds.

DEANS POV OVER

The line is dead.

A few hoodoo zombies stumble into the room. I throw the phone aside and eye the window thats a few feet from me. This is going to hurt like hell, I think as I take a couple steps backward to get a good running start.

"This window better already have a weak spot," I mumble as I run towards it.

Taking a leap towards the window, I break through landing on a dirt and broken glass. A few shards of glass pierce my skin but I don't care. I get up and make a bee line for my car. Only to be stopped by a few hoodoo zombies. I then notice that the one trying to eat my face off has a familiar necklace on to the one of the hoodoo priestess. I yank it off and kick the thing off of me and break the crystal-glass thing to the ground. A faint glow comes from it and breaks into several tiny specks of light and going after the hoodoo zombies. Once the light touches them they all drop like flies.

"Huh," I then grab my side. I look down and see a shard of glass sticking out of my side. I know I shouldn't pull it out but I needed to. I limp over to my car and throw open the trunk where I know there is a first aid kit. I bite my lip and slowly pull out the glass. A small whimper escaping my lips.

I toss the glass to the ground and quickly cover up the already bleeding wound. I take my flannel and cut off a long piece and tightly tie it around myself. Maybe I can talk Hezekiah into healing it. I painfully get into my car and pull my phone out of the glove compartment. The battery is suddenly charged and there's service.

I dial up Deans number and press send.

"YN?!" Deans voice sounds so excited. "Oh thank God. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I get the car on the road and speed out of town. Not evening caring to look back. "I have a bumps and cuts. The Hoodoo zombies are all dead. Apparently there was a necklace that held some sort of light thing that killed them when I broke it. Similar to how I killed the hoodoo chick."

Dean sighs on the other end. "That's good. Sam and I can finally have a good night in."

"Dean," I know hes on the road. He can't hid that from me. "how far are you out of Lebanon?" Dean's silent. "Dean, don't forget I know you really well. Anyone in danger that you care about, you drop everything and race towards them."

"About an hour," Deans voice is firm and deep. "I just couldn't live with myself if I just sat back and let you die. Again."

I close my eyes. Maybe taking off was a bad idea. Maybe I should have done this with Dean. "Whatever happened in that field was not your fault. You had zero control over it. Michael hijacked your body."

I can picture Dean licking his lips and staring out the front of the impala. "Right, anyway, where are you headed?"

Right, of course he doesn't want to speak about it. According to Cas, it's too much for him. Michael is a sore spot for him. But what they all don't know, Michael is also a sore spot for me too. Despite everything I've done. The only reason I would want him back is to beat the living shit out of him.

I think back to the last words I said before this whole thing happened. I told him 'what if I wanted Michael back because a part of me loved him?' I shouldn't have said that. I even wonder why I even did say that. Yes I have or had some feelings towards the archangel. Hell, he was incredible at making love to me, almost as good as Dean. I push it aside.

"I have a feeling about Texas," I tell him. "I feel like I've driven this road before. Just keep an eye on me if you don't hear from me."

"Sounds perfect, we will make our way there then," Dean is quiet for a second. "YN, I love you. Whatever happens and whatever you find out once your memories are back, just know that. I will always be here for you. Hell, I will die for you if I have to."

I drive all night and end up in Corpus Christi early morning. I don't know why I am here, but I know I am in the right place. I send a quick text to Dean telling him where I ended up and to tell me to call me when he's at a motel. I stare at the beach in front of me and feel a pull on the mark on my side. Which reminds me that I never asked Cas to look deeper into that mark. Too late for that.

I get out and walk the beach. The pull on my mark is strong. I look up and down the beach and my eyes land on a light blue beach house. I've been there before. I walk back to my car and drive towards the blue beach house. It's not the same place I walked out of before I killed Maggie. Maybe we changed location. I don't know, But I will find out.

I get out of the car and pull out my gun. I make sure it's loaded, you know just in case I need to stun the angel. I slowly and cautiously walk up to the door. I go to knock but then I slowly put my hand on the door knob. I slowly open the door and slip inside. Dean would be pissed for doing this part alone but, I need to know if the dick face angel is in here.

The house is spotless. Almost like no one has lived in it for sometime. It's also quiet. I poke around rooms and find nothing. Then I come upon a locked room. I look around the small hallway for a key until something hit me. I sweep my hand over the top of the door frame and feel a small objet. I take it down and see that it's a small key like thing. I use it to unlock the door.

I see a room that looks like I could have slept here. The bed is all messed up. Theres clothes thrown all over the place. I guess I didn't care about what my room looked like then. I pick up the clothes and stash them all in the hamper near the closet. Something tells me that I needed to open the closet.

I am not prepared for what I see in there. There are papers taped and pinned to the walls. A list of things that make me tear up. Maggies name is on that list along with the words HAIR FROM DEAN. It's crossed out so I must have gotten it from him without him knowing. There are pages from a book about how to create a vessel without really having a body.

"What the hell did I get myself into?" I ask myself.

"I was wondering when you would come back," a voice startles me. I turn around and see a dark skinned man with dreads in the door way. "I see that wall has been activated too. So how did you find your way back if you're memory is gone."

I watch as he walked a few steps into the room. He spots the gun in my hand. "I'm assuming that you're Hezekiah," I say staying where I stood. "According to Cas, there are some holes and cracks in the wall. Could explain why I was able to find this place. He was also able to pull out one memory from me. Maggie."

"Ah, yes, the girl from Michael's world," Hezekiah smirked. "As I recall you didn't have much regret for it. You really really wanted to see Michael. Well," Hezekiahs smirk got bigger. "That's what I made you think when I brought back and refused to do what I needed." Hezekiah must have seen the look on my face. "Yep that's right, when I brought you back, with a little help from a certain witch, you flat out refused to help me get Michael back. Told me and I quote 'go die in a ditch you self righteous spineless dickless asshole.' So I toyed with your mind some and now we are closer than ever."

Fuck, I think. "So not only did you throw up a wall to cover your ass, which you did a piss poor job by the way, you messed with my mind to get you to bring back Michael. For what? Control? Power?"

"To rule Heaven, along side him," Hezekiah raises his voice. "Once he's back and finishes what he started, I can kill him and rule Heaven. With you by my side of course." He takes a few more steps towards me. What was it with angels want to rule heaven with me by their side.

"Okay, I'll continue to help, but first," I holster my gun. I know that if I don't go along with this I will die. I need to play along. "Give me my memories back."

Hezekiah looks me up and down trying to get a read on me. "You're still very hard to read." He closes the space between us. He smiles wickedly as he touches my forehead. Dean is going to be so fucking pissed.

[fericita-s]

The Bloom Is On The Rye

After the crossing at the Kansas River when her family had been lost, looking at the muddy Black Vermillion had her hiding under her bonnet like a bird tucking its head under its wings to sleep.

Emmry Forced Marriage Mercy Street/Oregon Trail crossover! Chapter 2 below, also on AO3

a continuation of In having new eyes by @jomiddlemarch​ and beta-ed into being better by @the-spaztic-fantastic​.  Thank you both for your contributions to this story!

Mrs. Foster helped her again with breakfast, as if they planned it, all the while keeping up a cheerful chatter about her husband, Dr. Foster, and the medical practice they would be setting up in California. 

“You won’t be going to Oregon!” Emma said, surprised and disappointed.  She had hoped this new friend might be a neighbor of sorts, though she knew Oregon was large and their party was likely to split up several times as they passed through different territories.

“We won’t head that way until after Soda Springs, that’s months away yet.” 

Emma found this a comfort and somewhat distressing - still months to go before they still had over a month to go.  She knew the journey would last about five months but it had been harder to keep track of time lately. Their days took on a rhythm: waking, cooking, gathering what useful foodstuffs they could on the trail.  Walking, riding, crying a bit less each day.  It seemed to stand still, go very quickly, and stretch on all at once but her legs felt stronger and her arms too, the tasks that seemed to drain her at first now coming more easily.

“Henry said he has bacon, shall I look for it to add to the spider? There’s enough to share.”

“Yes! Jedidiah would stop complaining so much about dried apple pie for our only sweet if I start his day off with bacon,” Mrs. Foster said, taking over the spider completely while Emma rummaged through the store of goods. “Where are you two settling?”

Emma produced the bacon and then paused, wondering as Mrs. Foster lifted the pancakes out and arranged the bacon. “I don’t know,” she said, and then after a brief moment of panic, laughed.  “I don’t know!” Mrs. Foster joined her laughter as Henry walked up with a bucket of water, smiling tentatively at their mutual delight. 

***

“Where exactly are we going?” Emma asked that evening when Henry finished with the nightly Psalm.  After he finished reading he’d put his arm around her while they talked. He still slept by the fire instead of in the wagon and Emma didn’t know how to tell him she wished he wouldn’t.

“Black Vermillion River is next.”  

“No, I mean to homestead.  Where do you - do we - plan to be?” 

“Oh. Dalles.  I thought you knew.” He furrowed his brow as he answered. “Is that where you wish to go?”

“It doesn’t matter to me where we go, as long as it’s not back to Virginia.” She wanted to say something about how even though this trip had begun in tragedy that multiplied in staggering ways, she found comfort in his presence and in his kindness.  But she couldn’t think of how to phrase it, so instead she asked him why he decided to go west.

“I was in seminary.  Thought I’d be a preacher or maybe a chaplain.  But then -” he paused and Emma reached for his hand, trying to encourage him to keep speaking with touch she hoped would be welcome.  “A friend and I went swimming.  I dared him to, he didn’t want to .  Said he wasn’t a good swimmer but I goaded him into it. And he drowned.  I tried to save him but I couldn’t.”

“That was an accident. Surely you believe God has forgiven you.”

He took a breath and spoke evenly, though she would tell it was an effort.  She was well practiced in it.  “It was hard to believe then. It’s sometimes hard to believe now.” 

“You saved me.  I would surely have drowned had you not been there, had you not been so quick.”

“God guided my hands.”

“If you believe that to be true then believe you are forgiven, too.”

“It’s becoming easier to believe that,” he said, squeezing her shoulder and she relaxed into him.    

The sounds of Silas’s fiddle washed over the camp and she wished Henry would hold her like this in the bed of the wagon, instead of leaving her alone to go sleep by the fire.

***

She couldn’t do it. 

After the crossing at the Kansas River when her family had been lost, looking at the muddy Black Vermillion had her hiding under her bonnet like a bird tucking its head under its wings to sleep.

Emma remembered an arm grabbing her tightly around the waist as the current pulled at her skirts, the relief she felt when Henry deposited her on the shore.  She had been drenched and gasping, Mrs. Foster’s arm around her, as she watched the canvas of her family’s covered wagon float swiftly downstream.  It had tilted at wild angles before flipping over and then it was gone - under the water and around a bend. Dr. Foster and a few of the men had run downriver to see what - who - they could rescue, but Henry was still in the water where the wagon had first pitched to the side and floated away.

She had watched as Henry stood with a body in his arms. It was a man - her father? Jimmy? But the face was so covered in blood that she couldn’t make out who from this distance. When she saw it was Jimmy, she had been disappointed. 

She hated that he had been the only body to bury.  

The one she had least wanted to mourn was the only one with a gravesite.  It was unfair.  Henry had conducted a short service naming them all, and Samuel Diggs, the wagon master, had made crosses with all four names burned into the wood.  But it was only Jimmy’s body that had been buried. 

And she hated it.  She hated Jimmy for that last act of displacing her family from its rightful place.

“We’ll take the ferry,” Henry said, gripping her hands and looking worried, bringing her back to the present and this new river to cross. “We won’t ford it.”

But even that couldn’t stop her panicked breaths and so eventually he consulted with Dr. Foster and then dosed her with whiskey, calling it medicinal.  She grimaced as it burned its way down her throat, then breathed deeply at the sensation of warmth spreading through her and the way she could feel her pearl drop necklace against her chest, her boots laced tightly around her ankles, her bonnet tied neatly under her chin.  All these pieces of clothing keeping her from flying apart and Henry there too, holding her around the waist like he had in the Kansas while pulling her to safety.  

When it was over, they rumbled along a bit more before nightfall, but the feeling of warmth did not subside.  Her brain felt like it was sloshing around inside her head and when Mrs. Foster brought her a dried apple pie, Emma thanked her without protesting that she hadn’t helped make it and called her Mary for the first time.

“I’ll show you how tomorrow. On rest day,” Mary said as she handed over the pie. “Perhaps have another drink tonight, to calm those nerves.  You’ll sleep better for it.”

“I didn’t mean to serve you this for dinner,” Emma told Henry as she sliced the pie clumsily.  He had given her another drink and taken one himself after reading from his Bible.  He said he would have skipped it but it was his favorite one, Psalm 23.  They both cringed when he read ‘He leads me beside still waters’, not relaxing again until he finished the verse with ‘he refreshes my soul’. 

“We had apple trees at home,” Henry said.  “I remember climbing one far from the house and then eating about a dozen before they were really ripe and making myself sick.” He looked at her, smiling. “Maybe we can plant two or three in Dalles.”

“I’d like that.  We had an orchard at home. Alice and I would steal them from the kitchens, the ones that had been sliced for pies. When they were mixed with sugar and sweet and syrupy.  I remember how it ran down our fingers and made our chins sticky.” She laughed and bit into the pie they shared now, worried she was missing her mouth with part of the crust but also too warm and full to really care.  “Once, when Alice was telling Mother she definitely had not stolen the pie filling, a bee came right up to her chin! Mother said even the bee knew she was lying!”

They laughed together and seeing him happy made Emma feel bold.  “Will you sleep here with me tonight? I think I would sleep better with you here.”

She watched as Henry stopped smiling and stopped chewing.  He nodded solemnly, like they were taking their marriage vows anew.  “Yes, Emma, I’ll stay here with you.”

His answer felt as good as his calling her Emma.

He turned his back as she undressed and she heard him securing the ends of the canvas cover so there was no longer an opening out the back.  With her whiskey-clumsy fingers she took twice as long with the buttons on her bodice and could not manage the corset at all. “Can you help undo these laces? I’ll sleep in my chemise, that’s on underneath.”

Henry moved towards her and she could smell the whiskey on his breath.  His hands felt warm against her skin and her heart, which had been beating out a strange rhythm since she asked him to stay, was so loud she thought he might ask her about it.  His hands finished their work on her laces, delicately unthreaded the loops entirely and she worked at the ribbons of her skirt until finally the petticoat and skirt fell into a heap on the wooden bed of the wagon.  

They stood frozen, looking at each other, as Henry reached for the pearl drop necklace now visible as it lay just above the low neckline of her chemise. He lifted it and ran his thumb over the smooth surface before gently placing it back against her chest in the valley between her breasts. “Beautiful,” he said, and she wanted him to press his hand against her fully, so he would hear what that word did to the beat of her heart.

Henry turned away and didn’t come join her again until she was on the bedroll.

She made herself as small as possible so he would join her on the pile of blankets and quilts, but when he laid down she only felt his hand on her back.  She wondered if she should turn to face him, then stilled as his hand traveled up her back and to the bun that gathered her hair against the nape of her neck.  He gently reached for the pins and combs holding it in place and took them out, brushing his fingers through her loose hair lightly.  She closed her eyes like his fingers were singing a lullaby and slept with his hands still stroking her hair.

The next morning he handed her one of his shirts as she swallowed against the dryness in her mouth and winced at the fuzziness in her head that now seemed to have sharp edges. 

“Use this to sleep in.  At least until you can make a new dress.  It should be more comfortable than wearing the same thing day and night.” She looked at him, taking in his rumpled pants and mussed shirt.  He hadn’t even taken off his outer coat or boots, had laid beside her fully dressed.  

He left their wagon abruptly and she ran her hands across the cotton, rubbed the collar between her thumb and forefinger and unfolded it to look at the long sleeves and how far down her legs the shirt would go. Then she hugged it to herself, wondering if he would sleep with her again.

Author’s Note:  Apparently bacon was such a common food staple on the trail, overlanders wrote of getting tired of it in their diaries. Can you imagine?! Tired of bacon!? Burying people along the trail was common, so much so that the Oregon Trail has been called this country’s longest graveyard.  About one in ten emigrants did not survive the journey, the most common reasons being accidental shootings, drownings, and disease. 

[bugaboosandbees]

Reine Ruse Part 5

Hello all! I finished this chapter a bit early, so I figured that I'd post it a bit early!

There's a LOT going on emotionally in this chapter, and I only hope that I managed to do it justice. I am writing from my own limited experiences, so if you see anything I missed or handled in a way that feels wrong to you, please let me know.

It means the world to me that so many of you are interested in these dumb ramblings. Thank you all so, SO much for reading!

As always, if you’d like to be tagged, shoot me a message! (And please remind me if I forgot to tag you... computers are hard!)

Chloe

Chloe lay back in bed, resting one hand over the necklace that now hung around her neck, the silver metal seeming too little a weight for its importance. Her new kwami and partner, Trixx, was happily burrowed into a den she’d made him out of one of her dresser drawers and several of her fluffiest winter scarves. Her head was still spinning.

Tikki had left after setting the necklace down on the table between them. “As soon as you pick it up, Trixx will appear. They’ll explain everything.” Her eyes had softened. “Thank you, Chloe. It will be nice to know that someone has her back.”

Chloe had stared at her determinedly. “I won’t let her down.”

“I know.” Tikki had smiled and then vanished into the night.

Chloe had stared down at the necklace for some time, noting the way that the silver metal reflected the light in the room. Finally, she had reached down. As soon as she’d touched the chain, she’d had to close her eyes against the blinding orange light that had erupted. When she’d opened them, there was an orange fox-like being the same size as Tikki and Pollen in front of her.

“Hello,” they’d said, “My name is Trixx, and I’m your kwami! Tikki’s explained the situation to me. I can’t believe what my previous kit did that to Ladybug, but I thank you for taking care of her. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, and I know that you won’t make the same mistake.”

Chloe wasn’t quite sure what to make of Trixx. They were different from Pollen… Pollen was kind and quiet. In the few moments Chloe had had with her, she seemed pretty content to cave to Chloe’s judgment. Although Trixx put on a playful front, they seemed wise and looked at her like they knew a secret she didn’t. She had the feeling that this was a kwami that wouldn’t let their wielder get away with the kinds of things she’d done as Queen Bee at first. She wasn’t going to lie, that was reassuring.

Trixx had explained the powers of the fox to her in as much detail as she could wring out of them. She was going to be the best damn superhero partner Ladybug could ever dream of having, and she couldn’t look anything short of competent her first time out. Illusions were going to be new. She was a bit annoyed that the fox miraculous sounded less combative than the bee, and she must have looked it.

“Don’t underestimate the power of perception, kit.” He’d looked around her room. “You seem like the sort of person who knows what lies people tell themselves, and how far they’re willing to go to cling to those illusions. You may not be able to paralyze your foes physically as a fox hero, but if you figure out what matters most to them, you’ll paralyze them mentally, which is infinitely more fatal.”

She’d thought about what Trixx had said and concluded that they were right. When they’d put it that way, she’d started to see that her new power set was more suited to her than she’d thought. She’d grown up in a high-class world of glitz and glamour, learning early on that no one could truly be trusted to not want to use her as a connection to her parents. She’d spent more years than she’d like to admit lying to herself that her mother’s abandonment and her father’s passivity in her life didn’t hurt her, that they really were the perfect family they pretended to be for the press, and that she bullied Marinette Dupain-Cheng because she hated her -- not because she was jealous of the other girl’s boundless kindness and loving home. She could do this. She knew what people wanted and how far they were willing to go to get it. She knew how people lied to themselves and what kind of pain those lies could cause. She could do this, she could use the few, shitty lessons her parents had sought fit to teach her for some kind of good. She had to -- Ladybug was counting on her.

Marinette

Marinette awoke to sunlight streaming over her face. She stretched, still half asleep, and curled her toes into the soft blanket. She felt so relaxed...  She turned her head and slowly opened her eyes to find Tikki sitting on the small bed she’d fashioned for her, eyes closed as a shimmering red glow emanating from her, covering the entire bed.  

“Tikki? What’s going on?”

Tikki slowly opened her eyes. “Good morning, Marinette. I… I thought that after last night, you deserved a really good night’s sleep. Just think of it as a bit of kwami magic.”

Marinette smiled softly. What had she done to deserve Tikki? “Thank you, Tikki.”

The red glow dissipated as Tikki rose into the air, hovering over her charge. “And, it’s Saturday, which means that you should be able to work on the dress you’ve been meaning to finish!”

Her eyes lit up. “You’re right! I’ve been so busy, but all I have to do this weekend is the history report, and I’ve already picked out my sources, so that shouldn’t take too long!” She rose out of bed, clambered down the ladder to the floor, and stretched, arms raised high over her head.

“... Marinette,” Tikki sounded almost hesitant. “There is something I should tell you before you get to work.”

Marinette looked up at Tikki questioningly. “What is it?”

The tiny god sighed. “Last night… after you went to sleep, I was just so worried about you, and about everything happening with Chat Noir… I was so angry. I went to visit the Guardian, and when he didn’t share my concerns… I chose a new permanent hero myself.”

“What?” Whatever she’d been expecting, that was not it.

Tikki barreled on. “And, I couldn’t take the turtle or the bee, so… I took the fox. I know that things have been complicated with Alya lately, but I didn’t even consider that before I went last night, and I know that the person I picked is someone who is going to really protect you, but I don’t want to make anything more complicated between you and Alya --”

“Tikki, Tikki, it’s okay. I… with everything that’s happening with Chat lately… it will be really nice to have some back up that I can count on. And, as for Alya…” she quieted. “I’m not sure I’d be able to put my feelings aside enough to trust her in battle right now. Honestly, I was dreading the next time my Lucky Charm would call for the fox because Master Fu tells me to choose people that I trust, and… I’m not sure if I can trust her anymore.”

Tikki flew down to rest a comforting paw on Marinette’s cheek. “It’s okay, Marinette. Everything’s going to be okay. For now, why don’t we get to work on that dress?”

Marinette nodded and turned towards the half-finished gown on her mannequin with a determined smile. Her kwami was on her side, and she had someone new that she could trust to watch her back. She’d deal with Chat when she had to, but, for now, Tikki was right -- it was time to do something she enjoyed, and she wasn’t going to let anything taint that.

Adrien

Adrien had been pacing his room for hours. He was so tired, but he hadn’t been able to sleep at all the last night. Every time he’d tried, he’d seen the fear in his Lady’s eyes as she’d run from him the previous night. How had he not recognized it? How terrible of a person was he that his Lady’s fear hadn’t been enough to make him see what he was doing was wrong? Why had both Chloe and Plagg had to set him straight?

It was clear that he’d need to do more than just apologize. He wanted to kick himself. He’d thought he’d been doing things right -- he’d just wanted Ladybug to know how much he cared about her. But he’d forgotten his duty to the city -- and to his partner. His Bugaboo was right -- first and foremost, they were superheroes. And he’d been acting like a jealous anime protagonist. He thought of how he felt when Lila or the models he worked with would hang off of him and flirt and invade his space and felt sick. Of all people, you’d think he’d be the one to realize when someone’s boundaries were being crossed!

He paused in his pacing and leaned his forehead up against the cool glass of the window. He had no idea how to fix this. When it had happened to him, he’d either just dealt with it, in Lila’s case, or his father had filed restraining orders. Neither option was viable here, and, frankly, his stomach churned at the thought of exiling himself from the only person felt like he was really himself with.

The crux of the problem was that he needed advice. Plagg seemed to have exhausted his short bout of wisdom, maintaining that he made this problem, and it was his responsibility to fix it. The tiny god had been more affectionate than usual, curling up in the hollow where Adrien’s neck met his shoulder rather than on the small bed Adrien had fashioned for him next to the cheese cupboard. His kwami’s support despite his monumental screw up was the only thing keeping him optimistic that he might be able to fix this somehow. But who else could he go to for advice? He couldn’t talk to anyone as Adrien, that was for sure. If word got back to the press that he’d behaved the way Chat Noir had, Agreste Fashions would get enough bad press that he was sure he’d never leave the house again. But who did he know as Chat, besides his Lady?

The answer hit him like a bolt of lightning. Of course! Who better for a superhero to ask for advice than the famous Ladyblogger?

Alya

Whatever Alya Cesaire had been expecting to happen that Saturday morning, it certainly wasn’t one of the two superheroes of Paris knocking sheepishly on her window, much less that the superhero in question was Chat Noir. She hurried to open the window and let him in, mind racing.

“Chat Noir! What’s up?” She exclaimed. Internally, she was confused. Chat didn’t know she was Rena Rouge, so, unless Ladybug told him, he wasn’t here to recruit her for a fight… But it was unusual for him to stop by -- for that matter, how did he figure out where she lived?

“Hey, Alya,” he muttered, dragging a clawed hand through his hair in a gesture that was uncharacteristically nervous for the confident superhero. His eyes looked a bit watery through the mask. Had he been crying? “I know this is kinda strange, but, I don’t really know many people as Chat, and I needed some advice… If you’re busy, I can totally leave, I didn’t mean to impose, I mean, you’re probably busy and --” he looked like he was working himself up into a frenzy. Just what was going on? “Chat Noir! Calm down, it’s fine, I’m not busy. Why don’t you have a seat?” Alya quickly dumped the stack of school books on her computer chair to the floor.

He complied, sitting ramrod straight, knees pressed together, and hands clasped in his lap. She raised an eyebrow.

“Alright,” she said slowly, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” Chat looked down at his hands. “I really messed up.”

“What do you mean?” she questioned. Was it something to do with an akuma? No, she’d have heard about that… But what else could he mean?

“It’s… Ladybug. I… I’ve been an awful partner and a worse friend, and I don’t know how to fix it!” His voice rose in distress near the end of the sentence, and he clenched his hands so tightly Alya was sure that, if he hadn’t been wearing a super-suit, his fingernails would have dug bloody crescents into his palms.

“Slow down there, tiger. What do you mean by that?” Alya’s mind was racing. What had happened between Paris’ heroes? Sure, Ladybug seemed to be running off pretty quickly after each battle lately, but that wasn’t super out of character… If only she’d been able to get closer to the fighting, she might know what was going on! “I know that Ladybug really values you as her partner, she’s made that really clear in the past. If you’re worried that she thinks you’re not pulling your weight, I’m sure she’d be the first person to tell you --”

“That’s not it!” He broke in, anguished. “I -- I’m kind of a shut-in in my civilian life. My d-parents are really overprotective, so I don’t get to leave the house much, and I guess I’m kind of clueless socially. I thought that I was… I thought that I was just flirting, but I… I’ve been harassing Ladybug and I think she’s scared of me, and I don’t know what to do to fix it, because I can’t just apologize --” his breaths were coming faster and faster.

Being friends with Marinette, as much as that had gone south lately, Alya knew how to deal with a panic attack. She rested her hands firmly on Chat Noir’s shoulders. “Listen to me, you need to breathe with me. Can you do that? In…  and out. In… and out. In… and out. Just focus on breathing. In… and out.” She could think about how strange this was, and how in over her goddamn head she was later. She kept up a steady stream of soothing words until Chat Noir’s stabbing, choppy breaths had leveled off.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to get you anything?” She looked at the superhero, worried.

“I’m… I’m fine. I just need advice. How do I fix this?”

Alya paused. “Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but you’re her partner and I’m sure that you can come back from this. It may not be easy, or fast, and the friendship that you have may never be quite the same as it was, but I think she’ll see you’re sincere. If things are as bad as you say they are, it might not be right away, or even soon, and you need to be okay with that. I’m… I’m sorry too. I’ve helped make it worse.”

Chat looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

Alya sighed. “The picture of the kiss from when you were battling Oblivio? She told me not to post it, but I did anyway.” She smiled ruefully. “It looks like quite a few of us have had trouble respecting her boundaries. Just, respect her opinion from here on in. Apologize, be sincere, and act in a way that shows that you’ve learned your lesson and you’ll never do something like that again. Don’t push her. If all you ever are to each other is fellow heroes from here on in, you need to make your peace with that. Okay?” She maintained eye contact with him, watching as tides of rolling emotions passed over his face.

“Thank you, Alya.” He finally said quietly. He paused. “Would it be possible to film an apology for the Ladyblog? I… I don’t know if any civilians have been close enough to see my behavior, but, just in case, I want them to know that I know that I was wrong and that the way I was acting isn’t something any of us should stand for.”

Alya offered him a bittersweet grin. “I think we can manage that.”

As Alya was setting up her equipment for the video, a thought struck her. “Hey Chat, if you don’t mind me asking, I mean, I’m grateful that you trusted me enough to come to ask me for advice, but, I was wondering, why didn’t you go to Lila? I mean, you’re so much closer to her, and the girl’s aunt is a world-renowned counselor, surely she could have given you better advice?”

Chat was still distracted and fidgeting, unsure of what he was supposed to say on the video. Without seeming to think about it, he scoffed, “Why would I go to Lila? She lies like she breathes, and she hates Ladybug so much she tried her best to separate us when Onichan attacked.”

Alya sucked in a breath as if someone had punched her, and Chat seemed to realize what he had said. “ Shit, shit, forget I ever said that Alya!”

Alya’s voice was small and deadly. “Why?”

“I mean,” he looked unsure, “She’s been akumatized three times already and M’Lady is pretty sure that two of those were willingly, and every time someone calls her out on her lies it happens again, and I’m sure if we just give her a chance to get better on her own it would be better than telling everyone she’s lying and just getting her akumatized again.”

Alya was having trouble processing. “Wait. You said she was akumatized three times? Wasn’t she only akumatized twice.”

Seeming resigned, Chat shook his head. “You remember Heroes day? Before Hawkmoth turned himself into Scarlet Moth, he gave everyone in Paris negative feelings by showing them that illusion. That was Volpina. And,” his eyes darted back and forth, “I mean, this is speculation, but Hawkmoth can only akumatize one person at a time, and he wasn’t active as Scarlet Moth yet, and M’Lady and I never purified Volpina that day… which means he must have called back the akuma himself…” his voice got quieter “which means she might have… been akumatized willingly.”

Her world was spinning. If that was true, it would mean… “What have I done?”

Chat looked over at her, puzzled at the horror she was sure was etched all over her face. “Alya? What’s wrong?”

Did he really not understand? Okay, Cesaire, calm down. He’d said he was sheltered, but damn this was pushing it. Still, he had come to her, so she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. “Did you really think that it would be better to let her keep lying?”

“I mean, I guess? She’s not really hurting anyone, and she’ll never get better if we don’t give her a chance?”

A scoff broke out before she could hold it back. “Sorry, but…” she thought for a moment before it hit her. “How does Hawkmoth make akumas?”

“He uses people’s negative emotions.”

“Exactly. Look, I know that you’re a superhero and you wouldn’t know this, but… well, Lila’s in my class at school. If what you’re telling me is true, she’s been lying to us since she got there. And… those lies have had consequences. I mean, the Ladyblog is the prime source of akuma alerts and information. If it got out that I’d posted false information,” she winced, “people might not trust my blog anymore, and it wouldn’t be able to serve its function. I’ve wanted to be a journalist my entire life, Chat Noir. If I lose people’s trust in my journalistic integrity… that’s almost the worst thing I can imagine.” She took a deep and bracing breath. “I say almost the worst, because,” she paused, clenching her fists, “something worse has already happened. You probably don’t know her, but my… best friend, her name is Marinette. God, because I didn’t want to believe Lila was lying, I don’t know if I even have the right to call her that anymore. I shouted at her on Lila’s behalf and insulted and… bullied her, these past few weeks. Lila told us all such ugly lies about her, and I believed her. Forget the blog, what kind of negative emotions do you think I’m feeling right now, knowing that I might have ruined the first, most meaningful friendship I made in Paris?” She was crying, she realized.

He looked shocked. “I… I never thought about it that way.”

She wiped the tears out of her eyes almost violently. “It looks like we both have a lot to make up for. Now, let’s get started.”

Tags: 

@demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover , @anastasian-dreamer, @donegonewrong , @twinkletoes-rp , @asandygraves , @fatimaabbasrizvi , @im-here-for-the-content , @theorangelizard , @captainrose35 , @pleasefollowmeuwu , @the-ice-goddess , @ofpassionsandobsessions, @starberry-mina, @mikantsume, @bloody-no-kissu , @chocolatemilk52

[jawsandbones]

The Evening Red - Chapter Six

Rating: E

Summary: The blighted plague at your feet, and ghosts at your bedside. Those things that go bump in the night? They follow behind you. If only you had someone to protect you. A late-Victorian era re-imagining of Dragon Age Origins.

Pairing: Zevran x Female Warden

AO3 Link: Click Here

Chapter Six: Murmuration

The sounds hum together in the heat. This cacophony of cicadas, beetles and bees. She is formed of things that are not herself alone. Noya wears her father’s belt, tied around her mother’s dress, and boots which are from Alistair. The stockings belong to Morrigan, the gloves to Wynne. Leliana’s jacket on her shoulders, and Tamlen’s pin sits high in her hair. There is a necklace she doesn’t recognize sitting around her neck, and she lets her hand stretch wide over the long wheat. A blade of it moves between her fingers, tickles at her skin. The sun sticks at her back, burns down her neck. She stands in the field, surrounded by dense wood. Whispered breath escapes her.

She is widowed in the wheat, a strange feeling of hollowness inside her. From the wood, a creature crawls. The breeze moves through, and it carries with it the foul scent of what stalks her. It does not pass the treeline, nor does it move out of shadow. There is no point in cowardice. The boots stick in the mud as she walks towards the creature. The hollowness changes, becomes untenable weight which moves from her lungs to her skull. Her upper lip prickles as the blood begins to fall from her nose. She wipes it away with the back of her hand, but it will not stop. No matter.

She picks up her skirts as she moves forward, sinks low in the mud. There is iron in her mouth, a grisly blood drool. It overflows past her lips, stains the fabric at her chest. She loses the jacket in the field. The boots slip from her feet, staying where they are stuck. The stockings are inevitably ruined, the gloves as she tries to pull her feet free. The pin slips from her hair, immediately swallowed up by the earth. The blood chokes in her throat now, and her breath is more a wheeze, unable to hold air inside her lungs. Her vision cracks, blurs, hums along with the heat. The creature wavers before her. She cannot make out its shape.

She nearly makes it to the edge before she cannot walk any longer. Her hands claw at the mud which seeks to drown her, already cold at her ribs. It swirls, the bloodied brown, and her hair sticks at her temples, her forehead. She pulls at the wheat, but it cannot hold her weight. She is being pulled under. She has lost what was given by the others. When the mud pulls her under, the necklace is all that remains, a halo for a lost head. Noya’s eyes slowly open.

Her bed creaks underneath her shifting weight, and she rolls onto her back. She lets her hand rest against her forehead and watches the way the light presses against the curtains. It would be easy enough to close her eyes, drift back into sleep and the dream which has already begun to fade. She reaches for what strings it left behind, but all she has is some intangible idea of what it once was. A nameless fear, a spectral warning, soon altogether forgotten. Her hand falls back to her side, over the covers. She pushes herself up to sit, feet coming to rest against the floor.

Her elbow presses into her knee, and her fingers run over her lips. She did not expect Zevran to stay. Indications of his presence remain. The chair, fallen in their haste last night, is now righted. The small box which was beside her pillow, now peeks out from underneath her bed. She supposes he must have carried her, as she has no memory of how she made it to her bed. There’s a single piece of parchment on the table. Folded, propped up, meant for to find.

She rubs her shoulder as she plants feet against cold floor, makes her way over to it. Her fingers drift over the four indents in the crook of her neck. There is no blood, and to her surprise, the marks seem almost healed – as if they were days old, instead of hours. She picks up the letter, unfolds it with one hand. His script is neat, flowing, written in delicate cursive. She begins to make her morning coffee as she reads it, smiling at his telling of ‘a most pleasurable evening’. There are also apologies for leaving as she slept and assurances that they’ll meet again soon.

She folds it neatly, leaves it at her counter. The coffee scalds on her tongue, slightly burnt but strong enough. She sits at the table, and her finger moves over a tiny bubble of blood against the grain of the wood. Another, slightly splattered, and she leaves the cup where it is when she goes to the mirror. Cracked and clouded, still usable. She turns, pulls at her nightgown, and the back of it is soaked with her blood. Another thing to be scrubbed out. She leaves it with her clothes from yesterday. The bath is small, cramped, and the water cold. She runs the cloth over her skin, watches as gooseflesh prickles through the bruises which have fully flowered. The blighted hit bluntly, without thought or reason.

Is it Orlais, as Sir Loghain would believe? A plague in the capital of an enemy’s city would surely cause enough damage to render a conquest short. Still, unless they held a secret cure, it would run rampant through their soldiers as well. This tactic had been attempted before, to terrible consequence. Would the Orlesians really gamble on such a thing? King Cailain wants it to be the whim of the world, as untamable as a tornado or earthquake. It could run its course, it could not. Then there is the troubling matter of the blighted being directed. She rests her chin on her knee, and grumbles at being a playing piece – set without knowing the rules.

Duncan had instructed them to stay away from the university, but an inventory needed to be taken of what has survived. She pulls at her hair, does her best to make it into something resembling sanity. Twisted and braided, pulled up and around. The corset fits snug, undergarments loose and clean. A white pouter pigeon blouse, wine colored skirt, with a belt around her middle and a long but simple necklace. Dark stockings run high, and her pointed shoes much the same. She ties them comfortably, retrieves her coat. Fall will give way to winter soon enough.

Noya locks the door behind her, races down the stairwell, her hand lightly on the banner. She finds Alistair at the entrance. “I was just coming to get you –” he’s saying, but she takes his hand from the door, and holds it in hers.

“We need to go to the University.”

“Noya, wait. Duncan told me what happened. I was going to get you food. Take you to brunch if you were feeling up to it. Are you going to the University to work? Even if everything was… okay, we don’t work on Saturdays.”

“It’s not for work.”

“Noya, brunch.”

“Later.” She gives his hand a small tug, a slight squeeze, looks over her shoulder at him. Reluctant but following, Alistair matches her pace. Only when he’s side by side with her does she let go of his hand.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Noya says. “Nothing but a few bumps here and there.”

“Duncan’s barely come out of his study. He’s worried and working on something,” he says.

“Then he won’t be here to get in our way today,” she says.

“About that…”

No one pays them any mind when they reach the University. It’s practically deserted, the medical ward sectioned off. Alistair follows Noya through the servant’s hallways, a way around the guards and those meant to keep wandering eyes away. She brings a finger to her lips as they approach Wynne’s usual room. The glass of the door is shattered out into the hallway. Noya quickly peeks her head around the doorway. Duncan is wearing one of his better suits, without stain or wrinkle. He has his arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he speaks. The sight of Loghain’s slick hair twists a knot in her belly.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” She asks Alistair, in a whisper. He frowns, but steps forward, tilts his head towards the door.

“Duncan is discussing what was destroyed. Saying you lot must’ve been close to the cure… sabotaged by someone who wants the plague to ravage Denerim… That a cure must still be worked on. Loghain is telling him that his orders are final and that the work must be stopped. Something about those with a royal permit working on it instead? Oh fuck.” Alistair grabs Noya by the arm, pulls her down the corridor and around a bend.

“Gooday Sir Duncan. Please give the others our King’s sincere appreciation for their hard work, but that is ended now,” Loghain’s voice carries down the hallway, as does the sound of his shoes walking away. Duncan, however, is still in the doorway, boring holes into his back with his gaze. After a moment, he finally sighs, lets his shoulders fall. He rubs his eyes as he begins to move away. Slipping from Alistair’s grasp, Noya makes her way to where he once stood. The theatre is in ruins. She steps inside, glass crunching underneath her shoes.

Chairs have been thrown, the desk overturned. Paper is strewn across the floor, stained with mud and who knows what else. The door to the lab has been torn from its hinges. She doesn’t make her way inside this one. Every glass vial has been crushed. The floor is wet with unknown liquids. Somewhere, in all of it, is Zevran’s blood. “I’m sorry,” Alistair says as he looks at the ruins of it.

“We’ll have to start again,” Noya says mechanically, “and likely without the University’s funds and support, if Loghain truly is shuttering everything behind royal walls.”  

“You don’t think one of those researchers will a cure?”

“I think that if they do, they’ll start at the top down,” she says, turning to look at Alistair, crossing her arms. “By the time they make it to Tamlen, it might be too late.”

“Oh.” Alistair sways on his feet, then stiffly puts his hand on her shoulder. She holds herself tightly, and he sighs. His touch relaxes, makes its way to the nape of her neck. He leans forward and lets his chin rest on the crown of her head. “It’s Tam. He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“He will. I promise.” They stand in silence, and he listens to her breathe. When he’s certain… he pulls back, both hands on her shoulders and takes a deep breath. “Can we please go get brunch now?” Noya breaks into startled laughter, rests a hand on his chest, and smiles up at him.

“Yes, we can go get brunch.”    

“Thank the Maker.”

---

The afternoon goes quietly. The evening even more so. Dinner sits untouched on her plate, pushed away from her at the table. She is bent over the notebook, pen in her hand. Her writing is not as clean as Zevran’s – far less focused, each stroke pointed and pressed into the page. The language is also different, and she doubts that anyone besides Tamlen or herself might be able to read it. Which is fine – it isn’t meant for reading. So when the knock comes, it’s followed by pages fluttering, the book closing, and Noya shoving it into the nook above the stove.

“No need to invite me in, my darling. I have come to invite you out,” Zevran says, at her doorway, his hand extended towards her and a smile on his face. It’s one Noya matches as she slips her hand into his, manages to grab hold of her coat with the other. He manages to maneuver her so that their arms are linked together, shoulder against shoulder as they walk down the street. Feeble gas lamps do their best to light the way. Side and secondary streets are not lit at all. There are a few others, here and there, going about their business.

“Where are we going?”

“You shall see,” he says, turning to look at her, the smile still on his face taking a more mischievous quality now. “It is not a place many go, but I find it quite charming.” He leads her towards the edges of the city, near the Amaranthine Ocean. Fish takes over from the smell of soot, while most places on the waterfront are closed, there is one still with lights on. A bell chimes when they enter, and Zevran gestures for Noya to take a seat anywhere she likes. She chooses one by the window, looking out over the docks.

There is only one other person in the building. A stocky figure, hair untamed, dark and wild around her face. Her apron is covered in messy handprints – something of chocolate powder, perhaps a jelly for that one. She takes one look at Zevran, and they give each other a familiar nod. Then, she disappears behind the counter. He takes a seat across from Noya. “Do not worry, I am assured the food here is quite delicious,” he says.

“Can you eat? Or is it only…” she looks towards the doorway where the woman had disappeared.

“I may eat, but what you would call normal food is only ashes to me. It has a distinctly disgusting flavor. Blood is all that sustains a vampire,” he says. He makes a waving motion with his hand. “And do not worry about Mrs. Cane. She knows my nature, as I know hers. She is one of the púcaí.”

“What is a púcaí?”

“A shapeshifter. There are many stories of them. Most are about beautiful horses which entice humans to take a ride on their back. They would get a most wild and terrifying journey before the púca dropped them back at home.” Noya smiles politely, thanks Mrs. Cane as she sets an appetizing plate down before Noya, and a single cup before Zevran. Then, she disappears into the back once again. Zevran drinks deeply, licks his lips.

“Ah, strong coffee is the only thing which does not taste of shit,” he tells Noya. She smiles as she takes the knife and fork, cuts into a gleaming thigh of chicken. Maple, and perhaps honey? A sweet glaze, moist and perfectly cooked. The potatoes are covered in gravy, the beans green and steaming.

“It is delicious,” Noya says, “but how many women have told you that?”

“Many woman and men.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Does it bother you? That I also enjoy the company of men?”

“No. I think anyone, regardless of gender, is a fool if they turn you down.”

“Oh?” Noya touches fingers to her lips as she finishes chewing, swallows, and sets her fork down beside her plate. Her own reflection looks back at her in the glass, distant waves only barely able to be seem.

“There are people whose bones are dust, and who only you remember. You carry all those lives with you, through the ages.” She shakes her head, sets her hands down in her lap. “You would think that I would have nothing in common with someone from a hundred, two hundred years ago. Except that I do, through you. They’re not truly gone, because they stay with you.” On the table, Zevran’s hand clenches into a fist.

“And if I do not remember them as well as I should?” Noya puts her hand lightly over his.

“You can share their memory with me.”

“Perhaps another time.” The fist comes undone as he turns his hand over, fingertips fluttering at the base of Noya’s wrist. “You almost made me forget the reason I asked you here.”

“Oh?”

“You are perfectly allowed this, please do not mistake my asking for judgement. Please also do not either think it some sort of necessity for our courtship to continue.” A smile flickers across her face. “I simply wished to know the reason that I cannot kiss you. Everyone has their own, and I am quite curious of yours,” he says.

“If I’m going to kiss someone, then it should be someone that I love.” His eyebrows rise.

“If I was expecting a certain answer, it was not that one. You do not strike me the romantic type,” he says. Noya smiles as she leans forward, rests the corner of her chin on her knuckles.

“Then it will surprise you to learn that I’m a deeply romantic person. I enjoy having sex, and the pleasures that come with it. It seems contradictory, but I believe there’s a difference between sex and an intimate encounter between people in love,” she says.

“A unique stance for a woman of this age,” he says.

“Do you disapprove?”

“Rather the opposite. I will never understand denying yourself on of life’s greatest pleasures,” he says. “Then, Miss Mahariel, have you kissed someone you love?”

“I have,” she says.

“Should I be jealous?”

“No,” she says, “we’ve grown apart.”

“I see. I won’t press you further. Though I would have been fairly put out had a jealous lover made an attempt on me with a wooden stake,” he says. She laughs, and he leans back in his chair, satisfied. Her hand is free to return to knife and fork, eating while he sips at his coffee. He looks out through the window, at those distant waves. The moon’s reflection struggles over the ocean, broken and chopped.

“Are you the only vampire in Denerim?” she asks as she dabs at her lips with the napkin, sets it down over her empty plate.

“That suggests that we all know each other,” he says, playfully. “If the vampire is inexperienced, or careless, there will be signs. I have not seen any, so it could be I am the only one in Denerim. Or it could be that there is another, who is experienced and careful. It is hard to say.”

“Signs?”

“Ah, well, bodies, I suppose. Perhaps thralls – the dead who should not be walking, under the control of a vampire,” he says.

“Do you have thralls?” His face twists.

“No. I dislike robbing someone of their free will. I do not want a slave. The very idea disgusts me,” he says.  

“We are the same in that regard. I am one of the Dalish,” she says.

“I suspected,” he says. He leans forward, playfully looks around and drops his voice to a whisper. “Do you have tattoos?” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “Somewhere naughty, I hope.”

“You’ll have to see,” she says, with a smile to match his.

“You are a terrible tease. If you will not tell me, then I suppose there is no point in delaying dessert.”

---

As promised, on the appointed day, Noya and the others stand outside of Duncan’s estate. “I’ve knocked plenty, but there’s been no answer. Do you think he went out?” Leliana asks, standing beside Wynne. Morrigan touches her hand to the doorknob.

“I could break this,” she says.

“No,” Wynne says instantly, disapproval resounding in the word, “Morrigan.”

“If he was missing something for tonight, he would have sent a servant or had Alistair go and fetch it,” Noya says. “In an estate with a master and a ward - there is no one answering this door. We were attacked. The University was attacked. Loghain tried to shut Duncan out.” She looks directly at Wynne. “We should break the door open.”

“I brought my lock picks!” Leliana says rooting around in her carry bag.

“Why do you have lock picks?” Morrigan asks. Leliana only shrugs, and smiles.

“Why do you have lock picks? I have a key.” They all whirl around at the sound of his voice, and Alistair fishes a hand into his pocket. He brings out the ring of keys and steps through them to put the correct one into the lock. “He sent me to get wine. Can you believe it? He plans a dinner party and then forgets about wine.” His other hand is preoccupied with keeping four wine bottles close to his chest. After unlocking the door, he distributes one to each of them. “Duncan?”

His voice echoes through the hallway, and one by one, they all filter through the doorway. Noya keeps the bottle tight in her hands. The silence brings uneasiness, although Leliana is chatting quite amicably with Alistair. Wynne is smiling, contributing here and there, while Morrigan rolls her eyes. Noya opens the door to the dining room, and pauses, closes it almost completely once again. She holds out her bottle. “Alistair. Can you take this to the kitchen? Leliana can help you. You should bring us some glasses,” she says. She gestures at Wynne and Morrigan to hand back their bottles as well.

“Alright, if you insist. This better not be a habit, or else I expect to be paid like a proper servant,” he says. Leliana tilts her head questioningly, but all it takes is one short shake of Noya’s head to send her towards the kitchen.

“Alistair, I was meaning to ask you…” her lightly accented voice floats down the corridor. Once she’s sure they’re gone, Noya opens the door for Wynne and Morrigan. Wynne’s face immediately falls, eyes beginning to well up with tears. Morrigan rolls up her sleeves. Noya does the same, and walks over the threshold.

Duncan sits at the head of the long table. His body is bowed, his throat slit. Someone has placed a bowl beneath his neck. It fills with blood, a foul goblet.

[jkrobertson]

UlquiHime Week 2019 Day 6: Possession

Read on Ao3 |  Fanfiction.net  

Or read under the cut.  This is the last piece originally earmarked for a Vega + Altair UlquiHime zine that was cancelled, but it fits today’s theme in a lemon-flavored way.  Enjoy! @ulquihimeweek​

Also another shoutout to Beta @slytherkins​!  THANK YOU!

 Vega’s Corruption

She was known as Vega to most, but to those who knew her best, she was called Orihime.  Vega was a name passed down to her from her mother and her mother before her. Her line had been tasked by the gods to protect the pocket of brambleberry bushes she called home.

 The problem was, no one really ever bothered to traipse through this dark, secluded area of the woods.  Orihime often found herself lonely, and frankly, bored.

 She filled her time the way her mother had, except that Orihime had no daughter to dote on and tell stories to.  Her own mother had absconded with a green-haired centaur years ago. The previous Vega had told her that her time as guardian of the brambleberry patch had run its course and wished her daughter luck, presenting her with a golden lyre and hair ornaments in the shape of sacred six-petaled blackberry blossoms.

 A clear brook cut a path through the forest, and occasionally a water sprite would pass through and tell her the gossip from upstream: general goings-on and who had been smote by whom; that kind of thing. She also learned who had been fornicating with whom.  Just a fortnight ago she had learned that a beekeeper by the name of Nanao had been chased from her post by a jealous goddess after falling pregnant by the god of wine.  

 They were worrisome, all these cautionary tales. Orihime would listen to these sordid stories with rapt attention and then fall back, mindlessly strumming her lyre, sighing in relief that no charming demigods ever wandered into her brambleberry patch. 

 It wouldn’t be until after she retired into her thicket that the images conjured in her mind by those stories would replay behind closed eyelids, causing her belly to squirm and her thighs to tremble.

 Her peace collapsed one evening when the forest stilled just after dusk.  It was an unnatural silence. Orihime ducked into her thicket just in time to avoid a phalanx of bats coursing over the brook, chasing away the fireflies that had lit up the waning moon evening.  After the shrieks and fluttering wings had quieted, she stepped back out of her den and cautiously looked around. She did not anticipate finding herself nearly nose to chin with a pale face containing large, deep jade and amber eyes.

 “Oh!” she yelped, taking a hurried step back and observing his form. The face appeared to belong to a male, and as she looked down his body she found that she was correct.  This satyr had unconventional characteristics, but she was able to place the tall, ear-like horns and long, prehensile, tufted tail. The wings were different. “Who are you, what are you, and what are you doing in my brambleberry patch?” she demanded in an unsteady voice.

 The satyr’s heavy brows lowered, eyes narrowing slightly.  “I seek the Vega.” He took a firm step toward her. “Have I found you, woman?” 

 “Who are you?” she asked again in alarm, taking a half-step back before her retreat was halted as her back made contact with the thicket.

 “Like you, I have many names--Niulang, Bunji, Altair-- but you shall call me Ulquiorra.  What shall I call you?” he asked, expressionless eyes boring into her soul as he voiced the question.

 She sucked in a quick breath, responding before thinking about whether it was wise to share this information, “Um, uh, my name is Orihime.”

 “Orihime,” the dark being let the name curl around his tongue and slide out of his lips with an understated sensuality.  “I see. Orihime, I will return on the seventh night of the seventh moon, and on that night I will be prepared for you to accept me.  Before then, I shall present you with three offerings.” Ulquiorra took another step toward her, his breath warm on her face and his leathery wings shielding her view from anything but him.  “Until next time, Woman,” he said, then flew away.

 Orihime released the breath she held with a gasp and clutched her chest, her heart racing below the surface.  She did not sleep easily that night, her dreams plagued with images of reptilian eyes and black fur.

 ***

 It was only ten days before Orihime was once again visited by a cloud of shrieking sky creatures announcing her strange visitor’s return.  This time she cowered inside of her den and waited until he called to her.

“Orihime.”

 Why her legs unfolded and her feet brought her to him mystified her.  When she stood before him, they regarded one another in silence for several moments.  The only sound that could be heard in the quiet was their soft breathing.  

 The pressure of the silence became too much for her to bear as those tense moments passed, but before she opened her mouth to speak, he relented, stepping to the side and breaking their eye contact. Ulquiorra pointed a clawed finger toward the heavens and asked, “Do you see that, up there, Woman?”

 Orihime’s line of sight followed his arm towards the night sky and to a smattering of stars.  “Yes. That’s Lyra. That’s where I am from,” she answered, referencing the constellation in the shape of a lyre.  “The brightest of those stars is Vega.”

 “You have learned well.  And you are indeed brilliant, Vega,” he said, his voice dropping to a deep tone and his eyes returning to hers, this time with a hungry glint.  “My first offering attempts to capture your nocturnal brilliance so that you may carry it during the day. Wear it and remember who gave it to you,” he murmured as he slipped a golden necklace, with a perfectly clear crystal amulet, over her head.  “Until we meet again, Woman,” was all he said, without allowing her the chance to speak before flying off again.

 ***

 The next morning, a friendly water sprite passed through Orihime’s brambleberry patch. The guardian of the berries was more distracted than usual, walking slowly, examining the sparkling ornament that she still wore around her neck.

 “Vega?  Veggga? Vega!  Did you lose your hearing?” the sprite barked.

 Orihime’s head snapped to look at the figure in the brook.  “Ah! Rukia! I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

 “I see that. I’ve stopped by to pass on a tidbit of information.  The fireflies told the bees, and the bees told the beekeepers, and the beekeepers told the meadmakers, and the meadmakers told me, that a dark visitor has been through this part of the woods, not once, but twice in the space of two weeks.  Rumor has it that the dark one is none other than new Altair, and that he seeks a mate.”

 Orihime’s eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she fingered the amulet.  “Altair, you say? What can you tell me of this creature?” she asked after finding her voice.

 “Well,” Rukia began, her eyes darting from one side to the other before looking at Orihime with a knowing smirk, planting her elbows into the mossy bank of the brook.  “I heard that he is a huge black demon with glowing red eyes and a cock the size of a centaur’s.”

 “Rukia!” Orihime whined. She didn’t want to hear about something like that.  Then again… She bit her lip and looked away for a moment, her cheeks turning pink before she turned to kneel on the bank before the water sprite, her brow worried and small fists pressed into her knees as she asked, “It can’t possibly be  that  big, can it?”  She had to clear her dry throat.

 An evil glint sparkled in Rukia’s eyes as they trailed from Orihime’s face down her neck, before landing on the amulet that now swung freely above her breasts.  The sprite chuckled before responding, “Maybe not  that  big, but certainly impressive.  The meadmakers may have exaggerated a bit, you know how they can get after a few mugs.  Why does it concern you so, Vega?”

 Orihime swallowed and nodded in understanding before she replied, “Oh, um, no reason.  Just curious.” She took a small comfort in the fact that Rukia’s description was only somewhat close to the visitor she had received the night before… The one with deep green and yellow eyes that her memory got lost in…

 “Vega?  Vega… Yoo-hoo,” Rukia said, waving a hand in front of Orihime’s face.  “Where did your mind go?” The sprite’s expression was suggestive.

 Orihime’s russet hair whipped back and forth as she shook her head.  “Um, nothing, really. Just, um, hoping that he doesn’t come to visit me,” she answered, her fingers closing over the amulet.

 “Uh huh, sure,” came Rukia’s dubious reply.  “Anyway, just wanted to warn you. Take care, Vega!” she said before disappearing under the surface of the water.

 ***

 Only a soft flapping sound disturbed the silence of the night a week and some days later. No bats, no scattering of fireflies.  “Vega? Orihime? Come out,” the now familiar voice called from outside Orihime’s den.

 The woman came out quietly, stopping short when her eyes fell upon the figure waiting for her.  The eyes were different, only green on white sclera. The wings remained, but now, regular, more human-looking hands replaced the clawed, furry ones she had first met with.  She took a step toward him, examining the white robes and horned helm he wore. “Ulquiorra?” she asked after a moment, unsure that it was still him.

 “Of course,” he answered, thrusting something toward her chest.

 She looked down to see a bouquet of jasmine and other night-blooming flowers.  “What’s this?” she asked, looking up from the flowers to his face, observing the black streaks that ran from his eyes to his chin and how his stature seemed slightly smaller and less intimidating than before. The corners of her lips tilted up as she began to realize what the object he held was before he had a chance to answer.

 “They are flowers, Woman.  My second gift. Their bloom and beauty are a pale reflection of your own, but by presenting them to you, I am attempting to capture your favor.  Is it not a common wooing practice?” the dark-haired creature spoke in a flat tone.

 Orihime choked on a giggle.  What kind of person was this?  Certainly a forthright one. “It is.  And I thank you. I never had an opportunity to do it last time,” she murmured, blushing and smiling down at the flowers.  

 Heavy black brows rose marginally, and Ulquiorra’s chest expanded with a slow, deep breath as he took in the image of the bashful woman before him.  “I must go. Our next meeting shall be on the date we previously discussed. Until then, Orihime,” he said thickly before he seemingly disappeared into the night sky.

 “Until then, Ulquiorra,” Orihime replied in a soft voice toward the star that shared his other name.

 ***

 The seventh day of the seventh month was upon her.  Orihime spent the day pacing and nervous. Was she really going to do this?  Was she prepared to submit to this mysterious being that had appeared to her only briefly on three occasions until now?

 It surprised her as much as anyone, if she had the nerve to tell anyone, that her answer was yes.

 Rukia had been by again in the days since his last visit, as had Rangiku, the frequently inebriated wife of a meadmaker.  Others had come and chatted with Orihime, sharing stories of a dark being on the prowl.  

 She never let on what she knew.

 This night, after twilight faded, Orihime did not retire to her thicket. She had prepared for this meeting, washing her body and hair, brushing out the long chestnut strands until they gleamed. She wore a fresh set of robes and waited outside, fondling the gifted amulet, and smelling the night-blooming flowers that had sprouted around the entrance of her den.  

 She did not have to wait long.  This time there was no flapping of wings, only soft, steady footsteps that announced his arrival.

 “Woman, you are not hiding,” he observed on seeing her standing amongst the flowers.

 “I’m not.”

 “Do I frighten you, Woman?”

 “No, I’m not afraid,” came the honest reply.

 With that, he strode before her, looking more like a man than he ever had.  The black markings on his face were reduced to thin, teal-colored lines. His hair was shorter, and his overall appearance completely unmenacing.  “Good. My final gift to you, Woman, are these words,” he said, taking her hands into his and looking into her eyes. “Your light has beckoned me from the heavens.  Your beauty and brilliance are beyond compare. You are my star, my soulmate. We were born for each other; destined to meet. As you can see in the skies above, our celestial homes are linked together on this night. It is my intention to make this a permanent connection.  If you will accept it, I will entrust my heart to you.”

 She didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how, but her answer was effortless when she replied, “Yes.  I accept.” 

 That was all it took.  The impassive, stone expression she had come to expect cracked as Ulquiorra’s eyes narrowed and one side of his mouth curled up slightly into a pleased expression laced with desire.  “Then, my woman,” he began, reaching out to touch her throat, trailing two fingers up the front of the delicate column until they stopped to grasp her chin, “are you prepared to unite with me and consummate our union?”

 A gulp.  Orihime’s mouth felt dry and her lips parted.  Her eyelids felt heavy. This was really happening.  “Yes,” she breathed, finding her subsequent breath difficult, shuddering past her wet lips.

 Ulquiorra took another step towards her and tilted her chin up.  “Then from this night forward, I belong to you, Orihime,” he whispered before lowering his lips to hers, their deceptively soft surface pressing against hers firmly; insistently.  It felt like he was trying to pass a part of his soul to hers as his breath filled her nostrils.

 Orihime was not prepared for her body’s reaction to his kiss.  Her hands moved on their own to his chest, slowly sliding up to his neck until her fingertips reached the sides of his face.  Her lips parted further then, and her sweet breath ghosted between their faces as she tilted hers slightly to the side.

 A deep rumble that started in his chest and growled past his throat left Ulquiorra as his mouth opened and his tongue found its way to hers, its textured surface sliding against hers in a slow, dragging motion, in and out, pulling hers into his own mouth from time to time. He tasted like wine and she couldn’t get enough of it.  As difficult as it was to breathe, Orihime found herself trying to drink his tongue into her body. Every time it retreated, she followed it, desperately whimpering for more.

 His hands began to explore her body, the one on her chin sliding down her front to cup her breast, the other finding her ribs and sliding down the side of her waist to her hip. Both hands then reached around her back and pressed her body to his, breaking their kiss.

 “Vega, I have waited for you for so long, you have no idea…” Ulquiorra’s whispers were harsh between heaving breaths as he held her tightly, burying his face into the side of her neck.

 Her fingers wormed their way into his silky hair, and she felt a swell of affection bloom in her chest, temporarily drowning out the lustier thoughts clouding her brain.  “I’m here,” she replied in a gentle voice.

 She watched his pale face pull back from her and find her eyes.  She was surprised to see a mix of emotion swirling below his row of long black lashes: longing, hope, lust, affection, and most surprisingly, fear.  He swallowed as an ivory finger brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and admitted, “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

 The affection she felt earlier surged, and she smiled, pulling down at the base of his skull and rising onto her toes to kiss him.  “Neither do I,” she whispered after the kiss was broken. “But I think you were doing just fine.”

 He nodded, releasing her from his hold and taking half a step back as his hands began to release the fastenings of his robes.  When they were free, he allowed them to fall to the ground and stood before her, his white skin luminous in the starlight.

 Orihime was dazzled for a moment, breathing shallowly and letting her eyes wander over his form.  She chanced a look between his legs and suppressed a scoff. She hadn’t seen  that  many centaurs, but what she saw now was nowhere near as intimidating as what those beasts carried.  Her shoulders relaxed and she took another step back, this time releasing the pin at her shoulder that held her robes in place.  All at once she was bare to him, and she stood still, watching his face as he gazed upon her.

 It did not last long.

 His eyes traveled from her face down her body and his nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed, and in the next instant they were on the ground, her discarded robes providing a slight cushion for their bodies as he ran his hands over her, from her throat to the tips of her swollen breasts, following them with his mouth.  His lips left a trail of kisses down her belly. His hands paused at her pelvis, kneading at the sides of her hips as his mouth reached her curls and the scent of her arousal hit his nose.

 One hand traveled from the side of her body to the juncture of her legs, spreading them gently and watching how her body parted for him, the glistening surface a pretty reflection of the stars; an intimate replication of the jewel she still wore around her neck.  His long fingers reached out to touch the slick surface and he hissed.

 He bit his lip as he allowed one digit to penetrate her, nearly choking on his own tongue in response to the sensation.  His thumb drifted toward the top of her slit and her reaction seemed to please him as she moaned softly in response to it reaching her nub.

 He could wait no longer. “Are you sure, Woman?” he asked, looking up at her face with fire in his eyes.

 She nodded.  “I’m sure,” she finally murmured, spreading her legs further still and raising her hips, pressing his finger into her more deeply before he withdrew it.

 He slid both hands back up the sides of her body, pausing to press her breasts together, lapping at her taut nipples as he positioned his hips between her thighs.  When his face reached hers, he looked into her eyes. He said nothing as he shifted his hips towards hers. The head of his cock dipped between her folds and wetted itself on her essence.  He probed the space between her legs and watched her face intently.

 She hummed and sighed and twisted her body, her instincts pushing her to find the connection to him it wanted. She tilted and squirmed, her movements lead by an increasingly frantic need that she did not understand until it happened; just the right angle, just the right twist, and the head of his cock breached her entrance.  Her breath left her softly and she let her head fall back, her eyes closing. A small smile pulled on her lips, despite not knowing what to expect next.

 Ulquiorra whimpered as he felt his member swallowed by what felt like a hot, damp sheath made to his exact specifications.  He took several shallow breaths before working up the courage to push into her further, his brows furrowed and his eyes trained on her expression.  What could she be thinking, looking so serene, so perfect? “Woman?” he breathed, not sure what he was asking.

 “Yes, my love?” The words fell from her lips without forethought.  Her heart had the reins.

 It was all the encouragement he needed.  His face relaxed a bit and he pushed into her with purpose, slow but steady, pausing only briefly as her brows twitched and her expression grew tense when he filled her completely.  Once he was completely seated inside of her, he stopped again and waited for her features to relax and open up to him. When they did, and her eyes were open, he replied, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

 She opened her mouth for him when his lips came down onto hers, letting his tongue fill it as he began to move inside of her.  Her soft, high-pitched moans filled the brambleberry patch as their movements synchronized into a rhythm. She felt the heat within her grow and the tension between them intensify as their bodies slid against one another, slick with the sweat of their exertion.  Her feet planted into the soil to help lift her hips up to reach his thrusts and her fingers clawed at his back as he broke their kiss with a snarl and latched on to the side of her neck, increasing the pace of his pounding hips and grunting into her skin.

 This had to be heaven, she thought, as Orihime’s blood raced through her veins and her ears filled with the sounds of his growls, which morphed into pleading whimpers as he chased his goal.  She felt her core pulse around him, her toes curling into the ground as she raised her hips and held, her entire body clenching as she cried out and the bliss of her undoing overwhelmed her. The patterns of the Milky Way appeared behind her closed eyelids with each beat of her heart.  Her body drank Ulquiorra’s seed from his as he joined her, falling apart as jet after jet filled her body, his choked groan in her ear announcing her victory.

 After the last spasms of pleasure sparked through her, she relaxed her legs, lowering her hips to the ground slowly and releasing the tension in her fingers to trail her hands up his body to his face.  She cracked an eye open to see his flushed cheeks and swollen mouth. He looked stunningly erotic as his breath puffed past his lips and just a sliver of emerald green glimpsed through the thick black lashes that obscured his eyes.

 “Are you…?” he asked her breathlessly.

 “Perfect?  Happy? Fulfilled?  Yes,” she provided answers to his unasked questions.

 He smiled then and let his face fall onto her chest, one hand grasping at his robes that had fallen somewhere off to the side, and then pulled them up to cover their cooling bodies.  “Then we are both satisfied, Woman,” he murmured as his eyes closed.

 “Ha,” she chuckled, her fingers raking through his hair lazily before she tilted her head to kiss his brow.  “For now, anyway.”

 A smirk and a sleepy laugh answered her.  “For now.”