#man ffnet was weird and i couldn’t go back to it now

[itstimeforstarwars]

Sometimes I wish ao3 would tell me who subscribes to your works mostly because sometimes there will be one subscription on a story and eventually I turn it into something longer than a oneshot and I wanna go “this one’s for you, MrsDoomguy743” in the author note.

[nekoannie-chan]

Secrets chapter 1: The Day We Met part I

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC, Brock Rumlow X OFC.

Word count: 1116 words.

Summary: Sometimes keeping secrets can be dangerous or a heavy burden, which is what Kathleen has been doing for years. She will also be in charge of guiding Steve Rogers into this century; meanwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. will be looking for a way to kick-start the Avengers Initiative by integrating her as one of the superheroes, but that won't be the only danger they face.

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: After long time working on this longfic, I finally post it.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

Secrets masterlist.

Prologue.

Next chapter.

𝒥𝓊𝓁𝓎 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟿, 𝒯𝑜𝓀𝓎𝑜, 𝒥𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓃

 Kath opened her eyes lazily. Any normal student would go on Saturdays to the activities of their respective clubs, but for some reason, No, she knew the reasons why she had not been able to be in any of the school clubs. But what actually woke her up that morning was the noise that was heard on the lower floor.

She got up and wash her face, then went back to her bedroom to get dressed, and slowly went downstairs she couldn't stay in her bedroom all day anyway, also she was hungry.

The first thing she found when she got off and entered the kitchen was a young man she didn't know, but seeing the clothes she was wearing, she assumed she worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. and that he probably was one of the agents on her father's team.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"You finally woke up," Nozomu said. "He's Brock Rumlow, one of the agents under my command; the other one who's eating breakfast is Jack Rollins."

"Why did you bring them? You have never brought work home," Kath whispered.

"The mission took a slightly different course, but it was successful."

"Different? Does mom know about this?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. She didn't think her mother would be amused that her dad had brought "work" home.

"Sure, she was the one who made breakfast."

"Okay," Kath replied unconvincedly, turned around and saw Brock. "Is my dad too harsh on his team?" she asked Brock.

Brock had slowly turned around when he heard the voice, he hadn't even been able to answer when he saw her, it was the second time in his life that he felt something similar, he was completely enraptured; while Kath couldn't take her eyes off Brock either.

"Rumlow?"

"Huh?"

"Kath asked you a question."

The young woman let out a small, teasing giggle, although she had found some interesting things in his mind. At least sometimes it was fun to see what was in other people's heads.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked you if my dad is too harsh as an instructor or whatever he does."

Brock smiled nervously. He didn't know he had to answer. Meanwhile, Jack tried not to laugh.

Somehow, Brock got Kath's mobile phone number, and they started talking more. He even knew she was a mutant.

She was beginning to feel something "weird," very different from what she once felt about Johnny. If Wanda, Saori, or Nico were there, she could talk to them and know what was going on. She wasn't quite sure what to say to her teacher, Agatha, either... She missed her best friends! She didn't know exactly what she felt, but she was aware that it was completely different from what she had come to feel in the past.

ℒ𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟿, 𝒰𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈

 Kathleen did some doodles in her notebook. The classes at the Academy were somewhat boring for her, but perhaps the reason for this is that she read all the procedures as well as the protocols and what she must have known to be an agent in the books and files that her parents had at home since she was a child. However, even if she didn't know, she couldn't pay attention since the noise in her classmates' minds was very annoying. The worst thing is that she knew exactly what they thought of her. Somehow, they learned that she was a mutant.

Kath was the only one who was in the dining room. The others always avoided her, except Cameron. Although they did not bother him, usually the others excluded him. Maybe it was because the boy had always behaved in a very shy way. Regardless, she was happy to be able to consider him a friend.

Kath checked her mobile phone when she arrived, she had a couple of text messages from Brock, he thought she was going to college; she still hadn't told him anything about the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, she wanted it to be a surprise.

However, the one who got a big surprise was her; the following weekend, while having breakfast with her parents, she received a piece of news.

"Next month, you will have your first mission as an agent," the man said.

Kath took her eyes off her breakfast and looked at him as if her father had spoken to her in a language she didn't understand. "My first mission?  But I'm still at the Academy... " she didn't finish the sentence, realizing the reasons, she smiled, "Okay, I guess I won't be going alone or with any of you."

She knew that Fury had intervened; the good thing was that she would probably have more free time and finally tell Brock the truth, as long as the mission was a success.

In their free time, they would go out; he would show her around the city, or so she thought. Maybe she had lived in another country since she was little, but she did know the city and other parts of the United States because she went to visit her grandparents. She actually liked Brock thinking that; she also liked spending time with him.

Kathleen was in love with Brock, and although she preferred to hide her feelings, the truth was that she was afraid of losing him. In the past, she had already lost the people she loved so much, so she preferred to keep him safe.

Brock Rumlow had six months since he had been appointed Commander and leader of the STRIKE team, some were in disagreement and others skeptical, but the decisive vote and of greater weight was that of Nozomu, who fully trusted him.

"Agent Rumlow," a female voice called him. He wasn't sure if the voice belonged to the person whom he believed. He turned around, annoyed. He was no longer an agent, exactly. "Or should I say Commander Rumlow?" she asked, in a playful tone. Brock laughed when he saw who she was.

Something weird was going on. "Kitty, do you know you can call me Brock?" he frowned. "Why are you wearing that uniform?" Shouldn't you be in college? He looked at her sternly. In the past, he got into a lot of trouble. Maybe she needed his help.

"The uniform is mine; I'm an agent. Here, it's from Fury, and my dad asked you to be my instructor, tutor, whatever," Kathy answered laughing while she gave Brock a document.

"Won't you go to the Academy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I exceeded expectations in the exams, and they decided it was time for me to become an agent," she replied as if she didn't care.

Ꭲꭺꮐꮮꮖꮪꭲ:

@saiyanprincessswanie  @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940  @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae  @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone​ @caplanbuckybarnes  @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose​ @hallecarey1​  @nana1000night​ @talia-rumlow​ @mylifeispainandiloveit​ @writingshae​ @alexxavicry​ @azulatodoryuga​ @daemonslittlebitch​  @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @jtargaryen18​  @chaoticcollectivenightmare​

[sp0okynerd]

Clockwork

You can find me on AO3 and FFNET!

“Like clockwork,” I said in a low voice as I watched the familiar brunette stroll into the dark and dingy pub. This bar, The Common Room, was one of the best places in town for getting a quick drink after work - it also has fair prices and is never too busy.  And at six o'clock every night, without fail, I’d see her come in and make a beeline for the bar. This is probably my personal favorite perk of coming here.

After she gets a drink, usually something simple like a gin and tonic, she takes a seat on the stool at the other end of the bar. I used to think it was happenstance, but now I feel she keeps a safe distance on purpose...always making sure to keep at least a  2-3 stool buffer from any and all possible social interaction.

I can feel her eyes on me. It’s as if she is begging me to come and talk to her, but just as I look over at her, she has already looked away. I try to force my mind to let my body go over to her, but instead, it just reminds me that if I do it might put an end to this weird, safe dance we’ve been doing for months now - that and it was going to take a lot more than two beers to make that happen.

I have been talking myself out of pursuing happiness for as long as I can remember. My best mate Harry always tells me that I am my own worst enemy, and he's not wrong. But yet, I always come here, just for her. As pathetic as it may be, my night could be made simply by watching her there, even if there have never been two spoken words between us. Actually, no, scratch that. We have spoken two words. Once in the too-small hallway leading to the bathrooms, she muttered “excuse me” as she squeezed by, her chest lightly brushing against mine as she passed. Not exactly the most meaningful conversation.

Being the quiet observer I am, I came to notice a lot of details about her. I could tell she worked an office job by the way she dressed- button-up shirts that were always paired with a cardigan and pencil skirt. She would consistently order a beer, only one, and hardly drink it. She would merely hold the sweating bottle in her hand and stare into the mirror behind the bar.

Sometimes on my drive home from work, I would tell myself how crazy this all was, how I should just go home instead. But every day I find myself wondering what color cardigan she would be wearing that day, and before I knew it I was pulling into the all too familiar parking lot. I know I should just go talk to her. I should just say ‘what the hell’ for once, but no matter how many times I go over it in my head I just can’t find the words.

She was absolutely beautiful. Wild curls, tanned skin, and soft curves. In my mind, she was the most alluring person I had ever seen. Though I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t seem to know her own beauty. I could tell by the way she solemnly toyed with the label on the bottle, always denying those who approached her before continuing to look like a girl whose prom date had ditched her for someone else. I was intimidated, even with her shy demeanor, and every night when she walked into that bar, my world would standstill.

I began to fear that I was talking her up in my head, making her out to be some character in a movie that didn’t really exist, and making unfair assumptions. But something in me beckoned me to get to know her. I’d finally convinced myself that tonight was the night - I would finally do something about it. So I walked confidently over to my usual stool and was just about to order when the world paused. To my left, I saw the brunette who finally came up to me in the end.

I guess my cautious glances and my constant attendance at the bar hadn’t gone as unnoticed by her as my confidence had led me to think.

‘Well, hers either’ I thought to myself as a smile crept across my face.

She really was beautiful. Her cardigan color of choice was plum, and it balanced the deep tone of her skin in a way that made my mouth go completely dry. She gave me a sweet smile and stated,

“Would you like to dance?”

I nodded, unable to get out a verbal reply, and I swear her eyes gleamed even in the dim light around us. “I’m Ron,” I managed to choke out before she took my hand and led me to the sticky dance floor. The song that was blasting was Anna Sun by Walk the Moon, and I will never forget how she threw her head back in a laugh at the sight of my dance moves.

Wait for summertime Coming up for air Now it's all I want Now it's all I want Live my life without Coming up for air Now it's all I want As I watched you dance, I could see you’d gone the extra mile in fixing your hair tonight. Instead of the usual wild curls that I adored so much, they were more smooth and sleek. Both looks take my breath away just the same.

It may have been the four beers she downed instead of her usual ¼ a glass; but I could tell that for whatever reason, she was letting herself go tonight. Maybe she was finally dusting off whatever had held her down in the past. Maybe she could feel what I was feeling. Like there was always something pulling us together, but we’d both just been too scared to do anything about it. For the first time since I’d first seen her walk into the pub, the smile on her face looked real, ecstatic even.

Her confidence must have rubbed off on me because I found myself snaking my arms around her waist as the song changed to something slower, pulling her near. We were the only ones dancing as this wasn’t really the place where people danced, but neither of us cared. I felt like all of the planets were finally aligning.

The last call rolled around, but I could tell our night wasn’t done. How could it be? I still hadn’t even asked her name. On the drive to my apartment, I used the comfortable silence to take her in. Feet on my dash curls disheveled, her shoes long since abandoned. Beautiful, that’s the only thought that came to mind.

“Hermione, by the way,” she said as she flashed me a small smile. “I never told you.”

I laughed at the ridiculousness of this situation, “Do you usually get in the car with men you haven’t even told your name?”

“Can’t say that I have, but I just feel like I’ve known you forever. Is that weird?”

“No, it isn’t. I feel the same way.” I admit.

We never ended up making it to my apartment, instead, we veered off to a nearby park that was completely empty given the hour of the night. Lucky me, I happened to have a blanket in my car. “Always prepared!” she joked, complete with a boy scout salute.

As we walked down to the small pond in the park, we chatted about our jobs, our fears. I can’t even remember everything we talked about, but I know every subject known to man was touched as we spread the blanket on the dewy grass and gazed up at the stars. Both of us were pretending that we knew more than just the big and little dipper.

“I took astronomy in school you know,” she said with a laugh.  

I had never met anyone quite like her, I couldn’t believe this was real can remember asking her to pinch me. She giggled at that. The sound was infectious.

Before I lost my courage, I leaned over and kissed her. Warm. I’ll never forget how warm her lips were. They welcomed me eagerly, and I more than happily obliged. She parted her lips slightly, inviting my tongue inside, and I slowly lowered her down onto the blanket.

Looks like I can cross ‘shagging in a public park’ off my bucket list, huh?

Hermione taught me the most important lesson I ever learned that night- to always go with my gut. I spent too much time nursing a beer when I could have been making memories because it is impossible to know when you will meet the love of their life if you never even summon the courage to tell them hello. The 'what ifs’ of life can distract you from the magic.

Hermione shows me that magic every day.

[scribeofred]

Thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the tag!

 1. What fandoms have you written for?

This is embarrassing but I actually had to look at both FFnet and AO3 because I couldn’t remember all of them. TRON: Legacy, Assassin’s Creed, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit, Sherlock, Final Fantasy VII and XV and Kingsglaive, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Merlin, Skyrim, and, of course, Thunderbirds. I have a couple other fandoms that crop up in various wips, including a Tom Swift/Thunderbirds crossover that I really should finish.

2. How many works do you have on AO3 &/or FFNet?

FFnet has 45, and AO3 has 41. There’s also a couple stories lurking on tumblr, notably a final chapter for Reflection.

3. What are your top 3 fics by kudos on A03 &/or Favs on FFNet?

AO3 dominates in this area, if I can use a word like “dominates” for stories that have less than 125 kudos each haha. Oh well, the numbers don’t matter!

1.     118 kudos on tell the shades apart (my world is black and white)

2.     94 kudos on Reflection

3.     91 kudos on The 43rd Hour

4. Which 3 fics have the least kudos & Favs?

Again on AO3:

1 kudos on I Am You (And You Are Me)

5 kudos on The Dragonborn Chronicles

6 kudos on cynosure

5. Which Fic has the most comments and which has the least?

Reflection has the most at 29 threads, and I Am You (And You Are Me) has the least at zero.

6. Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?

Lodestar, definitely. Sure, it’s for something of a rarepair, but they aren’t that rare, and I just really really like the way the story came together. On the other hand, of course my unfinished Merlin fic has gotten probably the most attention, because that’s just the way it goes, eh?

7. Have you written any crossovers?

None that I’ve published! I have various crossovers lurking in mostly unfinished states, including the aforementioned Tom Swift/Thunderbirds crossover, and an Assassin’s Creed/Thundeerbirds crossover that is very good and I should also finish. There’s an Expanse/Thunderbirds fic lurking in my brain that I may or may not ever commit to paper, who knows. I’ve also very vaguely toyed with a Batman/Thunderbirds crossover, in the sense that “nebulous” is too strong a word for the kind of toying I’ve been doing.

8. What is the craziest fic you’ve written?

I don’t really write crazy or crack or humor in general, so probably the closest thing to “crazy” is On the Lam, which was the result of wanting to throw Scott and Penelope toward an Egyptian stud farm. It ended up being the host for a bad joke about that, courtesy of one @thebaconsandwichofregret, who consistently gives some of the best dialogue advice I’ve ever encountered.

Actually, the true answer is probably a chapter in Glimpses into a Supernova, maybe the one about blood? It seems bonkers when I think back on it now, but I admittedly haven’t read it in many years. Possibly I am misremembering. Glimpses has some weird ones, though.

9. What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?

It’s a tossup between The Painting and a place where the water touches the sky. The former deals with a prior off-screen death; the latter is (maybe??) an on-screen death. People seemed upset by it, at any rate. I said it was ambiguous!

10. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

“Happy” is probably a matter of perspective? Depends on the overall reading experience and the ending within that context. Either septet or Three Towels and a Tracy, they’re both pretty fluffy overall.

11. What is your smuttiest fic?

protoinstincts, which I completely forgot I wrote and then rediscovered like a year later and realized “hey, this is actually pretty good” and you know what, despite it not being overly spicy, it is pretty good.

12. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, per se, but someone left a review on Less Than Nothing saying they “didn’t like” that I “wrote the story as a series of drabbles.” Cool, I didn’t write the story for you, random guest reader, and the back button exists, friend 😂 It didn’t bother me on a personal level because I wrote the fic for an audience of one (incidentally, not myself and rather the recipient of a secret santa event), but I was mad because the reviewer had no way of knowing where I was at as a writer, and I know from longtime observation how that kind of comment can crush less experienced or confident writers.

Don’t leave flames, kids, you don’t understand the power your words have. Don’t like, don’t read.

13. What is the nicest comment you’ve received?

The nicest? Goodness. Hmm. I’d have to go hunting to find the nicest, but in recent memory, @ayzrules sent me a couple passages from Spanish texts she’s been studying that reminded her of my writing, and I was honestly so touched by the fact that she even thought to make such comparisons, much less mention them to me. Taking the time to familiarize yourself with someone’s style until you can make comparisons between it and someone else’s work is so much more meaningful to me personally than a basic “Nice story!” or “Loved this!” type of comment ever could be. <3 Ayz <3

14. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of, but I’ve never gone looking on any sort of copycat site or whatever either.

15. How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?

Two. First is The Dragonborn Chronicles, which is a retelling of Skyrim from Lydia’s perspective via her journal, to complement the in-game journal. It’s a slog of a style to write, though, even for someone who loves writing first person and doesn’t really want to write a lot of dialogue, and the outline is huge, and the story will be many times more huge, and just. Some day. Some day.

Second is tell the shades apart (my world is black and white), which has always been unfinished because the outline itself is over seven thousand words and the fully written story would undoubtedly land between 100,000 and 200,000 words, and there’s no way I’m writing that. I’ve always meant to upload the outline, but I got kind of self-conscious about the way I formatted it, and ugh I just haven’t bothered. One day, one day, right?

Moral of the story is I’m intensely a short story writer, and I’ve really found myself settling into that role over the last couple years. Better a clipped, punchy short story than a bloated slog of an epic.

16. Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?

Literally no one knows that. I wrote 95% of the observable entropy of a closed system over five years ago, and then I proceeded to pull it out roughly once a year and write and rewrite various endings until last month, which was when I finally figured out how I wanted to end the story. septet, too, languished for about five years before I finally remembered it existed and managed to wrangle an ending. Endings are hard, man. So are those third plot points. Terrible creatures, those, bog me down every time.

17. Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?

Uh... mm. See. If I were looking forward to finishing any of them, I’d be actively working on them. At this moment, writing fic isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities, but I am also coming off a four-day idle game bender, so I still feel like I haven’t quite reengaged with myself as a living person. Give me another few days and I might have an answer.

(I am always most looking forward to finishing this ridiculous Ignis-drives-the-Audi-R8 fic that’s been languishing in my wips for literal years. As mentioned above, third plot points. Killer, man.)

(oh and also the working-titled the art of murder. Scott and Penny attend a private art auction. Things don’t go to plan. It, too, is stuck at the third plot point. I know, I know I have a problem, shush.)

18. Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?

Any wip has the potential to be revived—this year and the old wips I’ve unearthed, dusted off, finished, and posted have been proof of that. I don’t intentionally permanently abandon anything for that reason, some stories just probably will remain dusty old wips forever because I didn’t actually need or want to write the full story for one reason or another.

19. Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?

Now that’s an interesting question. Hmm! Honestly? None of them. Once I finish a story, I’m not inclined toward rereading it again any time soon, to the point of years in some cases, and I feel like I’ve moved on from the stories I wrote one, two, five, eight years ago in the actual writing sense. They’re finished stories, and on top of that are relics of their time, which doesn’t mean the stories don’t have any ongoing significance on a reading level—I just don’t have any interest in rewriting those particular stories. I’ve gotten them out of my head, to the point of not remembering at least a third of them on demand anymore, and I don’t have any desire to “retell” those exact stories. I do tend to tighten the wording and fix perceived errors/weaknesses whenever I do end up rereading an old story, and I usually silently update the AO3 version if I make any significant changes because AO3 makes it a breeze to update a posted fic. I might do FFnet too if I’m feeling up to it or have the time.

20. Which complete fic is your favourite?

Once upon a time I would’ve said Holding On, but I honestly find it kind of unbearably melodramatic now. the observable entropy of a closed system is equally melodramatic, as it was written in the same era, but at least it has the excuse of being told in second person and via a style that is a half step away from being poetry. Possibly I will reread it in a few years and find it equally obnoxious and overly dramatic, but it received some shockingly positive comments, which I wasn’t expecting at ALL, and I’ve been honestly blown away by the amount of praise it’s received. <3 to everyone who’s said anything about it!

21. What’s your total published word count?

141,000 on AO3, 160,000 on FFnet, but technically the light of my life SS wrote fifty thousand words of each. It’s too late for math.

 I tag @velkynkarma, @lurkinglurkerwholurks, @writtenbyrain, @thebaconsandwichofregret, and anyone else who wants to play!

[cross-d-a]

fic tag game

aaahhh @vishcount thank you for tagging me!!! These are so fun and I adored reading about your fic journey~!  ೖ(⑅σ̑ᴗσ̑)ೖ ❤

OH as a note!! For the ppl I tag at the end I don’t expect you to read all of this bc it’s A Lot!!! but I figured you might want to do this game yourself? haha :)

Name: cross-d-a shortened version of my first ever username. unfortunately stuck with it now haha but i’m fond of it :p wish it was cuter tho!!

Posting the rest of this under the cut so it doesn’t eat up people’s dashes!! 

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Fandoms: 

oKAY YIKES there are....honestly too many too name. I’ve got a short and obsessive attention span so it’s either all or nothing with me usually. When I can stay in a fandom for a long period of time it’s a miracle. I’ll name the bigger ones that I’ve all written fic for! Even if I’ve never posted them haha

Right now I’m very firmly into Daomu Biji (dmbj). It feels like it’s both got a crap ton of content and yet barely anything at all haha. Maybe because the English fandom is so small. But at least there are a bunch of dramas and books!!! I really, really, really adore dmbj so much!! And a large part of that is the fandom!!! It's been a really cool and unique experience! Everyone in it is truly so kind and wonderful, and I’ve made some really incredible friends because of it (looking at you vish!! ❤). I’ve got a bunch of wips, but I’ve only posted two fics for dmbj!

Before this I was very into Guardian and mdzs. MDZS was my first foray into cdramas and Guardian’s Zhu Yilong really suckered me into watching more haha I also have fics for both these fandoms!

My very first fandoms were Fullmetal Alchemist, D. Gray-Man and Naruto. My very old ffnet account has fics for these and I’ve got a bunch of newer wips on my tablet. Then Star Trek, Twilight, BBC Merlin, Sherlock, Death Note, Harry Potter, How to Train Your Dragon, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar the Last Airbender and Marvel were a few of my main ones in high school. Plus a bunch of anime (like Fruits Basket! and Kuroshitsuji and Natsume Yuujinchou). 

Then college hit and I renewed my childhood love of Tolkien (mainly lotr and the Hobbit), and Star Wars. I also found Teen Wolf! Then after college it was Stranger Things. 

I find myself in a cycle of mild fondness and complete obsession with these fandoms haha I go back to Star Wars at least once a year!! Then I’m in the gffa hole for a few months. Marvel also reoccurs, depending on how interested I am in new content! Star Trek I always always always go back to. TOS is my comfort show and it will never fade from my heart ❤

But for now I’m stuck in cdrama hell and I love it

Tropes: 

Time travel, found family, whump+hurt/comfort, fairytale-like elements, resurrective immortality (thanks to a “Nine Lives” Hobbit fic), CROSSOVERS

I’m a slut for all these things so they often worm their way into my plots haha

I also just- love weird premises. I think that’s the anime influencing me haha

Fic I spent most time on: 

My series he leaves sand and stardust in my wake (main fic is hurricane on the edge of oblivion), I have...spent five years on now. I have done so much research for this fic it’s insane. 

The premise is force ghost!Obi-Wan getting shunted back into his tiny 10 year old self. I incorporate a shit ton of legends and I try to stay as canon as possible. I basically want this au to feel like it’s 1000% plausible while still getting all my gay shit. It’s chock full of whump, redemption, found family, minor characters turning into major characters, and I’ve got slavery uprising on the mind, too. It’s just- everything I could ever want to explore in the Star Wars universe basically. 

It’s my first big project. I started doodling and scribbling ideas in the margins of my notebook in my Scottish History class. I adore it so so so much. But, because of my hyperfixation and fleeting intense obsession with things it makes it- really difficult to consistently update. I leave it for months at a time and I am constantly guilt-ridden about it. Because it’s my baby and I have a lot of wonderful readers. I fear I’ll never be able to finish it. Especially since I’ve written so much and I’m still only in the beginning of it. ( ; A ; )

Also, I’ve spent so much time with Xanatos, Feemor and Bruck that they just feel like mine now. I can’t read any fics that involve them, it’s too strange. Which is a damn shame because I love them so much haha OH ALSO!! I think it’s the first really big fic to include those three?? So I’m very proud about that haha (I’ve had so many ppl comment about how they actually Give A Shit about these three and are Invested bc of me haha)

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written: 

hurricane on the edge of oblivion (with nowhere to go) (Star Wars)

My long-term passion project. My love-letter to Star Wars, I suppose. Reading it now I feel like a lot of it is clunky or long-winded, but I think it really shows the foundation of my writing today :) Main characters are Obi-Wan, Xanatos Du Crion, Qui-Gon Jinn, Bruck Chun and Feemor. Eventually we’ll get to Maul, Savage, Feral, Shmi Skywalker, (more!) Ahsoka, Anakin and a shit ton of clones ❤

things we hunger for (Guardian)

My Ye Zun self-indulgent fic. It’s a time travel amnesia Weilanzun! Honestly has some of my fav writing I’ve ever done. It’s so soft and really indulges in the hurt/comfort. It gives Ye Zun the friends and family I think he deserves. Also, he gets to grow into a (mostly!) functional person and I adore him.

the beast that slumbers within your soul (mdzs)

Jiang Cheng centric fic!! I feel like all my favourite fics I’ve written are love letters haha. This is one def my love letter to Jiang Cheng. This fic possessed me for two whole days. I wrote 16k in almost one sitting. I went to sleep at 6 in the morning bc I couldn’t stop writing. And when I drifted off I kept thinking of new ideas so I’d whip out my phone and write down lines and notes. I- have never ever ever felt that way about anything. It was- insane. It felt insane. It was so amazing. I’m still riding the memory of that high.

 Basically Jiang Cheng actually finds Baoshan Sanren and it turns out she’s a fox demon and Jiang Cheng is descended from wolves. It’s- okay I said the fic above this had my favourite writing?? That was a lie. This has my favourite writing I’ve ever done. It’s unfinished bc I am in dmbj hell but I am still excited about the next chapter which features Wei Wuxian’s pov!!

the whispers of spirits (dmbj)

My current passion project. In a way it kinda feels similar to hurricane? Bc multiple povs, incorporating different aspects of canon (we’ll get there!! I promise!), shit ton of research, etc. etc. I really really really love it for so many reasons. I’m basically taking all the things I was unsatisfied with in Reboot and Sha Hai and running with it. Found family and whump galore! It’s also a love letter to the women of dmbj who really deserve so so so much better.

Honourable mention to:

One Day (you’ll have given more of yourself than is meant to be taken) (Marvel)

This fic also kinda possessed me. I just- couldn’t get rid of the idea of a trans!Thor. And I mean a mtf Thor! It’s just? So many people look at Thor and go “that’s a Real Man.” Full stop. They never think there could be anything more, and it really really really bothered me. So I wrote out my feelings. I’m not trans. I don’t have that experience at all. I’ve had issues and confusion about my gender but nothing like this. I just wanted to do justice to this idea of Thor in my head. And I still feel a bit nervous having posted it. But I've gotten so many comments from people who really connected with what I’ve written? So I’m very very thankful I wrote it and it has a very special place in my heart. It’s a very cathartic fic.

Fic I spent least time on: 

Probably we rise (Star Wars) and I think it shows haha. I wrote it in response to Dave Filoni posting a drawing of Ahsoka and Gandalf telling her “People thought I was dead, too, and look how that turned out...” So I incorporated Ahsoka (and Din and Grogu and Ezra!!!) into the ending of Rise of Skywalker, kinda explaining how I think they could all still be alive. :)

Longest fic: 

hurricane is my longest fic (159k) but I’m kinda worried whispers will eclipse that.....

Shortest fic: 

Of my posted ones it’s The Five Moments it Took Tony and Scott to Admit They Were Best Friends (and the first time they ever did), currently clocks at 1.6k. It’s unfinished tho so maybe that doesn’t count.... otherwise it’s we rise which is completed and 2k.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: 

hurricane overall has the most of all these. Though I don’t think hits counts as much bc it’s multi-chapter. If you discount multi-chapter stuff, most hits goes to my obikin smutfic Homecoming, bc people are horny af haha

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: 

If I had energy I’d like to rewrite the beginning of hurricane bc it feels so so wordy. I’d want to expand on One Day bc I really would like to write a whole series with trans!Thor. And like- I’d really like the focus to finish any of my WIPs.

Share a bit of a WIP: I really wanna share my Guardian/dmbj crossover that I started back in August. Bc I adore the idea of wu xie&shen wei&ye zun triplets! Plus time travel!!! I dunno if I’ll ever finish it tho ( ; A ; ) It just feels like a lot to deal with right now.

This scene takes place during the Mountain Awl arc. Guardian crew and desperado fam run across each other at the village! Wu Xie has recently found out that he’s adopted and he’s searching for answers in the area Sanshu originally found amnesiac!toddler!Wu Xie in :) Gonna pull two snippets bc I’m v excited and this might be the only time anyone else sees this fic haha:

“Oh?” Pangzi focuses on Yunlan now, lips twisting. “You think I’ve ‘got the wrong guy,’ huh?” He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “That’s rich! Are you that cocky or are you just stupid?”

Bristling, Yunlan drops his hands and scowls. “Excuse me?”

“Sir,” Shen Wei tries. “I think—”

Pangzi’s eyes snap back to Shen Wei, sharp and blazing. “How dare you fucking steal his face!”

What?

Automatically, Zhao Yunlan turns to Shen Wei, but the professor looks just as shell-shocked as Zhao Yunlan feels which- is seriously something. Since everything about Shen Wei is so carefully controlled, kept to the minimum. Except for those delightful little smiles that bloom across his lovely face, or the startled little bursts of laughter that fall from his lips. Or even when anger and frustration spark across his features, cracking his calm veneer open enough that he can see a glimmer of what lies beneath, the fire in those eyes. Zhao Yunlan delights in those moments, makes a game of making Shen Wei’s control slip.

He tells himself it’s nothing more than a game. Nothing more than trying to find out what makes Shen Wei tick.

Zhao Yunlan’s always been very bad at lying to himself. Or very good. Depending on who you’re asking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunlan splutters.

But before anyone can say anything else, a very familiar voice calls:

“Pangzi? What’s wrong?”

Yunlan can feel Shen Wei stiffen, and Yunlan himself is pulled to that voice like a planet in orbit, like the inevitable plummet to the ground.

Another shadow wavers in the doorway before it steps out onto the dirt. Light illuminates shaggy hair, limning it gold, sharply casting everything else in shadow. But as the figure nears, the contrast softens until Yunlan can see the newcomer’s face properly and- and—

“Wu Xie!” Pangzi growls. “We’ve got ourselves an impostor!”

The man wearing Shen Wei’s face steps up to them, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a sharp frown. He glances between them, eyes landing on Shen Wei. His scowl deepens. He opens his mouth, but then—

“Wu Xie?” Shen Wei breathes, all trembly and lost and hopeless.

Heart in his throat, Yunlan turns to Shen Wei again. Turns and flinches at that stricken look upon Shen Wei’s pale pinched face.

“A-Xie?” Shen Wei chokes. “Didi?”

and

Pangzi snorts. “Professor?”

“I-it’s true!”

Startled Yunlan swings his attention over to Jiajia who clenches her backpack to her chest, face screwed up in admirable determination. “P-professor Shen took me and Xiao Quan on a field trip to investigate an archeological site around here!”

“Oh?” Wu Xie drawls all slow and amused. “Well, what a coincidence. We’re archeologists, too.”

“With guns?” Yunlan bites out.

Wu Xie raises a brow, grin full of teeth. “Well, you can never be too prepared.”

“Right,” Yunlan drawls right back. “Are you a professor, too, then? You come here with your students?”

Wu Xie outright grins. “You could say that, I suppose.”

Out of the corner of his eye, one of the men rolls his eyes. He’s the one with sharp features, glasses and looped earbuds. Does he think it’s appropriate to listen to music at a time like this? Yunlan admires the man’s gall.

aahhhh vish thanks so much again for tagging me!! This was so fun to relive my fic memories!! I’m gonna tag @alwaysaslutforshakespeare @jockvillagersonly @tehfanglyfish @lichelleme @undyingsunshine @humanlighthouse  @thewindsofsong I’m curious about your guys’ writing and fandom journey!! As always, no pressure to actually complete this!! I just thought it was fun ❤

Wow if you read all of this I am very humbled and impressed, thank you!!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[noirlevity]

Tough Love 24

Pairing: Mikorei Fandom: K project. Synopsis: Mikoto and Reishi are both Kings of warring kingdoms. With the Red Kingdom getting more and more powerful, it was threatening to crush the Blue Kingdom. As the Blue King, Reishi wanted to end conflict even it means throwing away his body and dignity.  TW: dubcon, rape, abuse  Read:  a03 || ffnet A/N: Smut. 

“Munakata…”

“Don’t say anymore, idiot.” Reishi roused himself. Supported by his elbow, he pulled Mikoto by the nape of the neck to kiss him.

“I told you I want it.” Reishi crooned. He’s aroused.He couldn’t help himself. Being this near to Mikoto made him crave for his body heat.

“I want it. I want you.”

Provocations like these were all Reishi could do to make his desire known. He’s still trembling a little at their nearness. The warmth of Mikoto’s breath on his face reminded him of painful things. The conflict mixed in his gut and the danger he felt made him sigh yet was not enough to deter him from planting wet kisses on Mikoto’s mouth. The kisses started soft, then became hurried and long. Mikoto stayed still, accepting it with eyes starting to glaze. Reishi tilts his head to kiss the other side of Mikoto’s mouth moaning softly as he worshipped it. 

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. It was as if he was going to lose himself as he clung to Mikoto’s lips.

Mikoto cursed when Reishi inserted his tongue. The two of them don’t share deep kisses and it’s making his head spin. He pulled Reishi in and responded to the kisses with the same vigor. The intensity of their kiss was hypnotic. Reishi moaned as Mikoto sucked his tongue and licked the crevices of his mouth. 

Was this also how he kisses Totsuka? Was this also the same kisses he gives her when they do it? Was there even a difference between kissing the beloved and the enemy?

The thoughts were painful but it was something he knew couldn’t be helped. At this time, Reishi just wanted to be fucked. He just wanted to fuck. He remembers Mikoto’s confession and breaks their kiss, eyes glazed from lust, panting heavily next to Mikoto’s ear. He noticed Mikoto’s throbbing cock that was already hard for him.

“I’ll do everything. Just sit back and relax.”

In the past, when they meet to have sex, Reishi does his utmost not to look at Mikoto and just wait for things to end. Now, Reishi couldn’t help but stare at how erotic Mikoto’s dick looked as he leaked precum. The large vein that snaked up his length made him feel even hotter and harder. He touched him and massaged his massive cock. 

Damn. Reishi couldn’t help but curse. No wonder whenever he resisted him, he would end up hurting more. With a manhood like this, surely it wouldn’t be hard for someone to take him. 

Reishi swallowed a lump in his throat. 

Fuck. Excitement made Reishi shiver. The warm thing in his hand twitched as he accidentally squeezed it. He looked up and caught Mikoto’s aroused face. The redhead pulled him in to kiss him hard. The slick sounds his handjob made, made his hole feel empty. He played with himself using the lube-like ointment he found with the supplies.

Pushing Mikoto back, he adjusted his glasses and began to lick Mikoto’s length. He planted wet kisses and sucked from time to time. Reishi didn’t expect the day would come that he would actually do this for Suoh Mikoto, his enemy, the person he hated. 

Looking at the blue king giving him head, Mikoto couldn’t help but feel a clench in his loins. He licked his lips and moaned as he looked at Reishi’s sunken cheeks. The sight of Reishi’s mouth enveloping his manhood made him feel even more aroused.

Reishi bobbed his mouth up and down Mikoto’s dick. Mikoto, unable to stop himself, grabbed him by the chin and kissed him hard. Reishi was surprised when Mikoto licked his tongue again and again. The thought of Mikoto tasting himself as he sucked on his tongue gave him gooseflesh. 

He was right, Mikoto could taste himself in Reishi’s mouth but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind no matter how wrong this scene looked. 

“Barbarian…” Reishi admonishes as he hovered his mouth on Mikoto’s own. He still gives him another kiss before pulling away. 

“Look closely.” 

A smirk was painted at Reishi’s mouth when he positioned his ass above Mikoto's hard cock. Slowly, he inserted it inside and took time to lower himself to take it all in. The feeling of having something inside of him was not something new to him. Mikoto always fucked like this. Since he hasn’t been doing this for a while now, it was not easy for him to put Mikoto’s huge thing in.

He was not going to lie and say he didn’t enjoy it. The truth was he found satisfaction in the pain that it caused. In fact, it made him even feel hotter that he couldn’t help but moan in pleasure. 

“You’re so tight.” Mikoto drawls as Reishi clenches around him.

The friction between skins felt good when Reishi began moving up and down Mikoto’s length.

“Suoh…” Reishi whined. Mikoto devoured his mouth as he thrust deeply. 

The act gave Reishi a mix of pleasure and humiliation. It was only natural because up until now, whenever the two of them had sex, he only felt shame and confusion. For some reason, now he felt incredibly good.

 It was a weird feeling.

He doesn’t quite understand it himself.

As he moved, Reishi realized that he wanted to be pushed down and be fucked hard. He realized he wanted to be owned and treated roughly. He remembered those times Mikoto played with his body in an attempt to give him both pleasure and punishment. It was painful because he resisted it until he couldn’t anymore. But just like the first time they fucked, when they were still negotiating the armistice, he had his way just like this—riding him.

Mikoto grabbed Reishi by the shoulder and pushed him down underneath him. He couldn’t resist anymore.

“Your wound!”

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

Mikoto thrust deeper, making Reishi cry.

“Ahhn!”

Reishi wrapped his arms around Mikoto’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss as the redhead continued pounding him. 

“Mmmm… Aaaah…”

Tears started pooling at the corner of Reishi’s eyes as he held tightly onto Mikoto. 

“Suoh.. Aaah…. It feels good..”

Mikoto was edging closer to his climax as Reishi heaved his name. 

When Reishi tightened his arms around him, Mikoto pulled out and came all over Reishi. After a few seconds, Reishi also came. The image of Reishi covered in his cum was the most erotic thing Mikoto had ever seen in his life. His heaving chest and lust-glazed eyes made Mikoto want to fuck again. It was not his call to make though. Instead, he searched for something to wipe Reishi off. 

“Suoh... “ Reishi whispered tiredly. 

“Mmm?”

“If only things were different.” The blue king looked away when he said that.

It came off as a shock honestly. Just recently, he was tormenting him. When somehow they both remembered their first meeting, and after hearing Reishi’s confession, Mikoto realized that he'd done something that was unforgivable. He shouldn’t have blamed Reishi for the death of his parents. He shouldn’t have been obsessed with vengeance. When he saw him again as two leaders of opposing kingdoms, he didn’t think Reishi would forget what he did. He thought he'd be surprised to see him again. He thought he'd hate him as much as he did but there was none of that. Curiosity was all there was in the blue king’s violet eyes. There was also confidence. The blue king was confident that Mikoto would play by his tune, when he realized it was far from the truth, he tried seduction instead.

Sure the Blue King was beautiful. It was not difficult to be attracted to someone like him. But Mikoto’s hatred towards him wasn’t easy to dispel. Reishi had been desperate. It made Mikoto wonder why he was desperate like that to the point of throwing away his body and his dignity. The time when they fucked inside Reishi’s royal carriage, Mikoto remembered feeling taken aback at being desired. His enemy desired him. He could feel it in the way he peppered his face with hungry kisses, In the way he looked at him whenever they met to discuss things.

It was enough to make him angry. 

‘Does Reishi even realize?’ was all he could think. He wanted to crush him. He wanted the blue king to respond to his hate with hatred as well. Before he knew it, it spiraled out of proportion. When his hatred turned to lust and affection started growing out of it, Reishi continued responding with hatred while he was overcome by guilt and consequence…. that is until yesterday.

When he was done cleaning Reishi, he snuggled up to him and slept beside him.

----

The rain finally let up in the morning. Mikoto and Reisi walked towards Reishi’s estate. When they arrived at Reishi’s estate, they were greeted by the surprised faces of Reishi’s attendants. They were all worried about Reishi. When they saw Mikoto with him they almost panicked. They all knew how much Reishi hated the man so it was a surprise that the two of them seemed to have spent the night together without problems. It also seemed that their king had gotten closer to the red king.

Mikoto didn’t notice their stares. He was preoccupied by the place. It was familiar. Because it was a bit near the house where he used to live, it somehow brought some memories back. 

Reishi asked one if his attendants to fetch Mikoto a doctor and another one to prepare a room for the general. He announced that in the meantime he was going to allow Mikoto to rest in his bedroom. The maids looked at each other as they bowed before preparing breakfast and Mikoto’s room.

When they arrived at Reishi’s room, Reishi opened the curtains. He was about to change his clothes when he felt Mikoto hug him from the back. Reishi blushed and admonished the redhead in his mind. To distract himself, he decided to change the topic.

“When did your condition start?”

“I don’t know. It was not always like this. I wasn’t born to have a body that has difficulty clotting its wound.”

Reishi dragged Mikoto to the bed and motioned for him to lay down. Mikoto followed obediently and patted his side, motioning Reishi to lay beside him. However, Reishi only sat on the bed and gazed down at Mikoto. His brows furrowed. 

“Don’t look at me like that. It's the truth.”

Reishi sighed.

“But maybe this is the product of that curse they were saying.”

“What?”

“The rumor, that any one who tries to harm the Blue King will be punished.”

“Ridiculous.” Reishi rolled his eyes.

“For a leader of such a religious nation, you sure act like an atheist.”

“I don’t believe in those kinds of things. I only believe in science and divine providence, not baseless rumors and myths.”

“Don’t worry. Even if I’m gone, they’ll be others who will protect the kingdom.”

Reishi flicked Mikoto’s forehead, earning a frown from the redhead. 

“Don’t say things like that!”

Mikoto smirked and held Reishi’s clenched hand. 

“Munakata… I’m sorry.”

“Idiot.”

“I love you.” Mikoto says matter of factly.

Reishi looked away and said,

“A lot of things has happened between us. We’ve both hurt each other in some ways you know. But I’m glad you took the initiative to make things right.”

Reishi swept away the tufts of hair that covered Mikoto’s eyes. 

“Rest first and then we’ll eat when you wake up.”

Mikoto pulled Reishi to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Stay with me. We only have a few days together before we return.”

Returning meant both going back to each of their families. Reishi clenched his hands and swallowed a lump in his throat. It was weird really, that he still feels frustrated at the thought that Mikoto decided to marry without even telling him first. It was true that as retaliation he also announced his marriage. But this was because he wanted to show Mikoto that he was not foolish to want to possess him as well. He wanted to show him his thoughts and actions were his but...

“Mikoto’s going to be married” as Izumo said those words it felt as if his world had shattered. He didn't know why that pained him enough to feel his heart sink. It was hard pretending nothing was wrong, that he was perfectly alright. However, he had to keep appearances because Izumo closely observed him.

Reishi declined Mikoto’s offer. He didn't need to get attached even more. Mikoto after all didn’t suffer from the same guilt as he did.

It was not easy to understand what Reishi was thinking. Mikoto had the inkling that maybe he was thinking about that tundra woman. He let it slide. They both needed a break.

----

“How is he doctor?”

“There seems to be nothing wrong with his body.

“His wounds do coagulate, only slowly and.. Yes.. but anyone will die if they are wounded critically..

“Have you been feeling unwell general? If so since when?”

“No.. I’m fine. I haven't been feeling unwell.”

“If that is so, then there is nothing to worry about. I’ll give you medicine and tips on how to maintain your body so that the speed of your coagulation will improve.”

“So it’s not a curse after all?” Mikoto chuckled. 

“No. But you still have to take care of your body, your highness. Even if you're the strongest warrior, you won’t be for long if you don’t take care of your health.”

The doctor excused himself, leaving both Mikoto and Reishi alone.

“Isn’t it great? You can’t die from being only wounded once after all.”

“Why? Were you happy if it turned out to be true?”

Reishi huffed. The idiot didn't notice that Reishi was actually quite worried for him. The blue king was grateful for it.

“Let’s eat. Breakfast is ready.”

While they were eating, Reishi talked about a piece of information that was just sent earlier to them.

“While you were asleep I was informed that the tribal wars in the south had worsened and are threatening something close to a civil war in the area. We need to intervene as soon as possible and aim for the tribes to make peace.”

“Was the information from Izumo?”

“Yes. I already informed him that you are at my estate this morning. It seemed like the messenger got lost because he couldn't find you in Rahsti.”

“Munakata… be careful around Izumo. He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“Really?”

“The guy’s not bad. It’s just that he gets greedy when he wants something.”

“But aren’t the two of you friends?”

“We are…”

“Then what’s the problem? Surely he won’t touch anyone who is already with another? He isn’t scum like that right?”

“Yeah. You’re right. But the guy’s quite the obsessive freak behind that calm demeanor of his.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

Mikoto just stared at Reishi finding the right timing to ask him to accompany him to visit his parent’s tomb.

[alexannah]

Just Keep Digging PART THREE

Chapter One | Chapter Two | FFnet | AO3

Summary: Lila makes a big mistake when showing off one day to the class. But her mistake may turn out to be not such a bad thing for Marinette and Adrien. From a prompt by @countingdowndays

Author Notes: Okay since this is no longer a one-shot, I discovered (thanks, Keyseeker) that I need to clarify where this fic stands canonically. Most of my fics I actually ignore season three, but obviously I can’t do that entirely here since we’re post-Chameleon.

So … This fic takes place shortly after Chameleon, and obviously we’re now AU because of the reveal, but it takes into account season three up until and including Startrain. (Whether I’ll get as far as events in those episodes actually occurring, I have no idea.) However Kwami Buster onwards is NOT taken into account. So no worries about our heroes having to give up their Miraculouses, or future Hawk Moth, or any Cat Blanc stuff. None of that exists here!

And for the record, I’m a fan of Gabriel and Nathalie and a supporter of the redemption arc. Whether this fic will go there or not, I don’t know. Still improvising here!

Just Keep Digging

By Alexannah

Chapter Three: Just Keep Intimidating

“Do you have any idea how lonely Adrien gets, Mr Agreste?” Marinette blurted out.

Gabriel Agreste blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “I’m sorry?”

“You’d better be. He spends most of his time shut up in this house, not allowed to leave except for school and classes. I get that you want to protect him, but all too often you cross the line between keeping him safe and keeping him a prisoner. He hardly ever complains because he’s used to it, it’s his norm; but that doesn’t mean it’s right or best for him. People need social interaction, sir. He hates being so isolated; you may not mean to, but you hurt him so much by doing that to him.”

“He told you this?”

“He doesn’t have to. We can all see it a mile off. Which makes me wonder why you can’t.” Marinette paused. “No, actually I know why you can’t. Because while you keep him physically close, you keep him emotionally distant. You don’t give him any quality time, or make him feel like he can approach you. I understand that you’re a busy man, but surely you can spare some time to spend with him, instead of always palming him off on your staff. It would make him feel so much better to at least know you’re trying. Instead there’s this massive wall between you and it’s growing bigger every day. And wrapping him in cotton wool isn’t the answer. You know what happens to people when they’re wrapped in too much cotton wool, Mr Agreste? They suffocate.”

There was a long, long silence once she finally stopped talking, wondering if she had completely blown it. Mr Agreste was still staring at her, no recognisable reaction on his face except extreme surprise.

Finally he broke eye contact, removing his glasses and polishing them. “I see you care deeply for my son,” he finally said, quite quietly.

“Yes, I do.”

“Hmm. Most of his fans desire him because he’s handsome and famous.” He replaced his glasses and looked back at Marinette. “But not you.”

“I’d love him just as much if no-one had heard of him and he had a face like a gorilla’s butt.”

Mr Agreste’s mouth twitched. “So I assume your intentions towards him are of the … more long-term variety.”

“The forever kind of long-term,” she agreed. “The ‘till death do us part’ kind of long-term.” For a moment she thought something weird flickered in Mr Agreste’s eyes at the ‘death do us part’ bit, but a second later she was sure she had imagined it. “The ‘married with three kids and a hamster’ kind of long term.”

“I see. And what do you imagine Adrien would be doing, other than helping you look after three kids and a hamster?”

“Whatever makes him happy. Whether that’s modelling, or his music, or tap dancing in the street.” Marinette tried not to giggle as she remembered him actually doing that as Cat Noir. “I’m sure you have your own grand ideas about what Adrien should do with his life, sir, but he’s his own person who deserves to make his own decisions. Even if you think they’re the wrong ones. Maybe I don’t meet your high standards; maybe none of his friends do. But we all love Adrien and want what’s best for him.”

Silence fell for a long moment as he gazed at her thoughtfully. “Tell me, does Adrien share your very specific vision of your future?”

“Well, I don’t know if he wants the same number of kids and a hamster, but I know he wants to spent the future with me. We should probably work out the details after we’ve been a couple for more than a few hours.”

Again, Mr Agreste’s mouth twitched, and Marinette dared wonder if he was actually amused by her words. Whether or not that was a good thing, however, remained to be seen.

“I will allow your relationship with Adrien,” he said finally. “But I have conditions.”

“So do I,” Marinette said before she knew what she was saying.

His eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“I already told you, Mr Agreste, that there are areas of your relationship with Adrien—well, the whole thing, really—that you need to work on.” Marinette folded her arms decisively. “So if you really want him to be happy, then I expect you to be willing to do so.”

She received a speechless gape in return.

“I expect you to choose presents for Adrien yourself and put thought and care into them. I expect you to make it up to him whenever your work gets in the way of spending time with him. I expect you to find time to actually tell him you love him, because to my knowledge he’s never heard that from you. I expect you to consider Adrien’s feelings and consult with him when making decisions for his protection or whatever, and if necessary reach a compromise you’re both happy with. I expect you to be more open to suggestions from other people who care about him on what’s best for him and what he needs to be emotionally healthy. I expect you to try, Mr Agreste. I expect you to want to be a better parent and be willing to learn.”

It was impossible to work out what he was thinking, but for some reason she couldn’t explain, she thought her words might actually be getting through to him.

“And this isn’t just about Adrien,” Marinette continued boldly. “Assuming that our future progresses as we both hope it does, then one day I guess I’ll be your daughter-in-law.” The expression on his face was suddenly beyond laughable. “And I may as well make this clear now so there are no surprises in the future, so you can’t possibly have any reason to withdraw your approval of us later on.”

“I’m listening.”

“I expect you to learn not to be such a control freak, so that when he’s an adult, you don’t make him feel like he has to do everything you want him to rather than what he wants, in order to keep you happy; because that’s not healthy—it’s not healthy now—and you can’t regulate his life decisions forever. I expect by the time he and I are married for you to have let go and let him have his own life. Assuming you take on board everything I’ve said, I’m hopeful the two of you will have a much better relationship by then than you have now; and if, as I think, you really do love him, then I can’t see any reason why you wouldn’t want that.”

“I do love him,” Mr Agreste said quietly.

“Good. So we’re in agreement.”

He still looked a bit stunned, but didn’t disagree.

“I haven’t finished,” Marinette continued. “Our future children.” He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, but I expect you to make an effort. I expect you to actually have a relationship with them, not be this distant figure they hardly ever see and barely know. You will respect that Adrien and I are their parents, and therefore our decisions are the ones that go; and while we’ll be open to advice, at the end of the day we’ll be the ones making the decisions we feel are best for them. You will do your very best to be present at every single special occasion; and I won’t accept any excuses, only the most valid, out-of-your-control reasons. Every Christmas and birthday, every school play and concert, every fencing meet or whatever interests they end up pursuing, regardless of whether they meet your approval or not. You have been absent from the important things in Adrien’s life for way too long and I won’t stand for you treating your grandchildren the same way. I want them to have a grandfather they can actually have a good relationship with, someone they will love and look forward to spending time with. And I know Adrien would want that too.”

Once again, the room was dead silent once she had finished.

“So what were your conditions, Mr Agreste?” Marinette asked, almost sweetly.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Er …”

~*~

In the next room, Adrien was trying desperately to resist the temptation to listen at the door. His father and Marinette’s voices were muffled, so he couldn’t work out what they were saying, but they sounded quite heated.

If he were alone, he probably would have listened, but Nathalie was there. While he wasn’t entirely sure she would stop him, he didn’t want her to mention to Gabriel later that he had overheard whatever was going on in there.

“Thanks for letting me tell him myself,” he said finally to break the awkward silence.

Nathalie nodded. “Do you love her, Adrien?”

“Completely and utterly,” he said with no hesitation. He thought about adding “I’d die for her,” but stopped himself just in time, thinking that might not have the right effect.

Her expression softened. “I very much hope she can win your father over.”

“So do I. She’s so wonderful; and if anyone can, she can; but … Father’s so stubborn.”

“He is,” Nathalie agreed. “And overprotective. But he does have a heart, Adrien.”

“He has a funny way of showing it sometimes,” Adrien muttered.

Nathalie sighed. “I know.”

There was an awkward pause.

“So … how did the two of you …?”

Adrien hesitated, quickly sorting through the memories and censoring the superhero identity stuff in favour of a simpler version of the story. Marinette coming to comfort him after what Lila had said, and him realising she felt the same way about him than he did her … yes, that would do.

“Well, it started with us all talking about our favourite movies …”

~*~

Marinette opened the door, and saw Adrien sitting talking with Nathalie, who looked quite angry for some reason. She quickly schooled her expression to be more neutral as she saw her, and stood up. “How did it go?”

“Er … well, he’s happy for us to date.”

Adrien beamed. “He is? Yes! I knew you could win him over, Marinette!”

“You sound quite relieved nevertheless,” she teased, drawing up to him.

“Well … maybe I was a bit worried,” Adrien admitted. “That’s not a reflection on you at all, though.”

“I know. Anyway, it’s all okay. Though he has set some conditions.”

Adrien frowned. “Conditions?”

“Nothing bad. Just, you know, sticking to curfew, bodyguard, stuff like that.”

“That was an awfully long conversation for just going over ground rules,” Nathalie said, in a tone which made Marinette sure she suspected a lot more had been discussed.

“Other subjects may have come up,” she said vaguely.

“Oh? Like what?” Adrien asked.

“Well … er … your dad’s lousy parenting …”

“What?” he gasped, and Nathalie choked.

“You’re the one who told me to be honest!” Marinette said to her.

“Sheesh, Marinette, what did you say to him?”

“Basically, everything I and the rest of your friends have wanted to say to him for the last few months.”

Adrien groaned. “I can hardly believe you’re still breathing! Let alone that he actually approved us dating?”

“Apparently I proved to him that I’m not after you because you’re a famous model.” She kissed his cheek, and he blushed. Aw, she would never get used to that. “And on a completely unrelated note, he’s made a resolution to have dinner with you at least four times a week, let you attend at least one social thing a week (three in the holidays), and he’s coming to see you in the school talent show next Friday.”

And when you turn fifteen, you’re getting a surprise birthday party, she silently added.

Nathalie raised her eyebrows. “Goodness,” she said, sounding very impressed.

“Wow,” Adrien said, sounding just as much so. “Marinette, you do realise that apart from my mom, you and Nathalie are the only two people who have ever been able to get my father to change his mind about something like that?”

“Um … no, I didn’t.” Marinette looked at Nathalie. “Thanks for the tip.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, Adrien, here’s your phone back.” She handed him his phone, then looked between them. “Is Marinette staying for a while, or do you two have other plans?”

“Er, I think it might be a good idea to give Mr Agreste some space from me for the rest of the day.”

“And we do have other plans,” Adrien agreed, taking her hand. “I promised her ice cream at Andre’s.”

“Ice cream?” Nathalie glanced out of the window. “Are you sure? It looks like it’s going to start storming again soon.”

“Oh,” Adrien said, sounding disappointed.

“We could go to my house instead,” Marinette suggested. “Only fair you get to meet my parents now.”

“They’re not going to interrogate me, are they?”

“Not like that. My dad is a very different kind of intimidating.”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “Er, what kind of intimidating?”

“You’ll see.”

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, and they all looked over to see Mr Agreste had appeared. “Nathalie, could I have a word?”

Marinette gulped, wondering if this was about Adrien’s birthday present.

“I wonder what that’s about,” Adrien said, frowning slightly after Nathalie had followed her boss from the room.

“Er …” She cast her mind around quickly for a change of subject. “Yeah, um … there’s someone else we need to talk to. Master Fu,” she said in a low voice.

Adrien paused. “Oh. Right. We know our secret identities now … Do you think he’ll be upset?”

“I don’t know, but whatever his reaction, we shouldn’t put it off.” Marinette took out her phone and selected the turtle icon in her contacts.

~*~

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Nathalie said after closing the door behind her.

“They’re dating, not engaged,” Gabriel said quickly, though he couldn’t help silently adding yet. He shook himself and remembered what he had actually intended to talk to her about.

“I think you made the right decision, sir. Marinette seems a sweet girl. And Adrien is clearly absolutely smitten with her.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it goes both ways. She was very …” Gabriel paused, searching for the right word. “… specific about her feelings for him.”

“Really?”

He knew from her tone that it was not actually a surprise, and wondered what she had said to Marinette before the meeting. “Yes. Very bluntly honest.”

That was putting it mildly. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had let him have it with both barrels. Gabriel thought the last time he had been that intimidated by a teenager, he had been the same age himself. Fortunately he didn’t think he had let it show.

“I see. Good for her.”

“Yes.” He paused. “The thing is, she did bring up something which I should ask you about.”

“Oh?”

“I understand that the present she intended to give to Adrien for his birthday, was somehow mistaken for being from me.” He arched an eyebrow at Nathalie, whose eyes widened.

“Oh. Er … d-did she tell Adrien?”

“No. And she stated she has no plans to do so. Apparently he was delighted to think it was from me, and she doesn’t want to disappoint him.” Gabriel fixed his assistant with a sharp frown. “I don’t suppose you could shed any light on how this misunderstanding occurred, Nathalie?”

She sighed. “On Adrien’s birthday, Marinette dropped off a gift for him, shortly before you … asked if I had got him a present from you. I … didn’t remember you having asked me to before, and … I panicked.”

“You told Adrien that Marinette’s scarf was from me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you not simply go out and get him something?”

Nathalie fixed Gabriel with a surprisingly hard look. “Because that would have required leaving Adrien to eat lunch alone on his birthday, Mr Agreste. Which I didn’t want to do. Nor did I want to have to tell him that his father had either not got him a present, or asked me to and that I had forgotten. I knew any of the above would hurt him.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And as it happened, because of the Bubbler, he had lunch alone on his birthday anyway.”

The accusation was impossible to miss, and a long, very tense silence fell between them.

“I … will not akumatize anyone on Adrien’s birthday again,” Gabriel finally relented.

“Especially not friends of his who only wanted to do something kind for him,” Nathalie added.

“Er … yes. I mean … no, I won’t.”

Her expression softened slightly. “Marinette really got through to you, didn’t she?”

“You put her up to that, didn’t you?”

“All I did was advise her to be honest. The rest was all her.”

“Well, it worked,” Gabriel admitted. “There are some … changes I need to make.”

Nathalie nodded slowly, frowning again. “Talking of honesty … did you by any chance sense any negative emotions from Lila Rossi earlier today?”

Gabriel blinked, completely taken aback. “Yes, actually. She’s been very emotional for most of the day, but you know I’ve been tied up with work I couldn’t delegate. It’s been quite frustrating having to wait; I was planning to seize the opportunity once Marinette had left. How did you know?”

“Adrien told me about something that happened this morning between the two of them. And … well, you’re not going to like it …”

~*~

Lila checked her text again.

We need to talk.

She didn’t know why she had come to the meeting place Adrien had specified. What more did he want to say? Adrien was the forgiving type, but she was certain this was beyond even him.

One little miscalculation, and everything had been ruined. Usually Lila planned her stories with care, but from time to time had simply grabbed an opportunity. And now she’d had the horrible misfortune of picking the wrong person to lie about.

How the hell was I supposed to know she was his mom???

If she transferred to a new school (Lila was already formulating an argument to present to her mother why it was necessary), then she would be more careful. At the very least do an internet search before opening her mouth.

She turned as she heard the car pull up behind her. The back window rolled down, and her eyes widened in surprise as it revealed not Adrien, but his father.

“Get in, Miss Rossi,” Gabriel Agreste said shortly.

She did, hesitating as she realised he was alone in the back. “Where’s Adrien?”

“He did not send you that text. You are not the only one with the ability to deceive.”

A cold chill went down her spine as the car pulled off, and Lila was suddenly very aware of the fact that no-one knew where she was.

“S-sir? What do you want?”

He didn’t look at her, face set in grim determination as he stared straight ahead. “Adrien told Nathalie what you said about his mother.”

Lila had guessed he’d found out, but still felt the blood drain from her face. “Sir, I swear, I never meant—I had no idea he was talking about his mom!”

“That is not the point. Your story could have severely hurt him, and the only reason it didn’t was because he believes something tragic happened to her.” He suddenly fixed Lila with a glare so fierce, she wished he was still looking straight ahead. “I wanted to tell you personally that if you ever do or say anything that could hurt Adrien again, regardless of whether or not you meant it to, you will severely regret it.”

Lila waited for the car to stop, but it didn’t. She glanced at the driver. It wasn’t Adrien’s bodyguard as usual; it was the aforementioned secretary. For some reason this felt foreboding.

“Um … wh-where are we going?”

He did not answer her question. “Miss Rossi, your relationship, in any sense, with my son is over. You are not to go near him again. You are not to talk about him or to him, and the same goes for his friends, because when they are hurt so is he. You are toxic and I will not have your poison harming my family.”

“I understand, Mr Agreste.”

“I’m not sure you do. You have been akumatized … how many times?”

“Er …” Lila said, taken aback at the question.

“Four, as I understand it. And you have a deep hatred of Ladybug which has made you valuable to Hawk Moth.”

“I’m not sure I understand—Wait, how do you know?”

“I am very well informed, Miss Rossi. Especially about the people around my son. I want to make one thing absolutely clear. Should you be akumatized again, no matter what Hawk Moth wants of you, Adrien and his friends are off limits. You cannot use that as an excuse with me.” His eyes sent icy daggers of fear through her. “You will find I can be a much more dangerous enemy than Hawk Moth.”

Before she could register the movement, his hand had crept around her throat and started to squeeze.

Lila choked, struggling to draw breath, and grasped weakly at his strong fingers, trying to pull them off. They were immovable. He wasn’t blocking her airways, but it hurt. She saw Nathalie glance in the mirror but merely look away, showing no sign of mercy.

Mr Agreste finally let go. “Is that absolutely clear?”

“Y-yes, s-sir,” Lila gasped, massaging her throat.

“Now you are going to get out, and you are going to tell your parents about every single lie you have told. If I find you have missed any out, I will tell them myself.”

They stopped, and Lila saw they were outside her home. She had never been so relieved to be able to get out of a car. She would take being grounded for the rest of her life over spending one more second in that man’s company.

“This is your only warning,” Gabriel Agreste said darkly, before closing the door again. The car pulled away.

Lila braced herself, and approached her front door.

~*~

“Don’t dawdle on the way home,” Gabriel said to Nathalie, settling back in his seat, satisfied and in anticipation. “I will not miss this opportunity.”

“Of course, Mr Agreste.”

He could already feel Lila’s anger and frustration, but once her parents found out everything, it was bound to increase. Her next akumatization would be her most powerful form yet.

“Do you think she’s afraid enough to leave Adrien alone?” Nathalie asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “She might have thought you were bluffing.”

“She didn’t. I can tell.” Gabriel looked back at his assistant. “Do you think it was too big a risk?”

“As long as you left no visible mark on her—”

“I didn’t.” He had been very careful not to.

“—and she’s convinced that you really would hurt her if she hurt Adrien again—”

“Which I will. And she is.”

“—then no. Even if she tries to tell someone you attacked her, no-one is going to believe her now.”

Gabriel nodded. That had been the plan. His Miraculous glowed as Lila’s emotions suddenly spiked. “Faster, Nathalie. I mean … Catalyst.”

To Be Continued …

Author’s Note: Thanks to phantombullets240 for your idea; it’s what turned this into a multi-chapter fic.

I initially drafted the penultimate scene with Gabriel ending his deal with Lila, then remembered it hadn’t happened yet in canon. Which is a shame because it would have been so much more tense. But I’m happy with the rewrite.

Part of the scene between Marinette and Gabriel was inspired by a conversation from Monster In Law, but it’s been years since I’ve seen the film so I’m not sure how close it is to the original.

I have a plan for the next chapter, but action isn’t my strong point, so it might take a little longer than the others to write!

[chierafied]

Honouring Tradition

Happy holidays to everyone, enjoy this little bit of Christmas Fluff! 😊💙

This is also an independent sequel to my older one shot One Step Closer.

Also posted on AO3, Dokuga and FFnet!

The courtship had gone on for a little over a year.

It had begun on the night of Rin and Kohaku’s wedding, when the miko had been feeling bittersweet and, infuriated by her self-deprecating attitude, Sesshoumaru had proceeded to cross over the line on which he had been teetering for quite a while. 

And since then he had not looked back.

While a snowstorm had raged outside during the winter solstice, Sesshoumaru had sat together with Kagome in her hut, sipping warm sake in the comfort and flickering light of the paper lanterns. 

He had been present in Edo for the spring festival and stood by, amused by the irony of it all as Kagome helped the old miko ward off evil. Thankfully, she had refrained from throwing any soybeans at him, though she had met his eye during the ritual and a smile had tugged at the corner of her lips.

When the cherry trees had been in bloom, they had gone out together with Kohaku and Rin to enjoy a meal outside, under the gently falling pink petals. 

In the stifling heat of the summer, he had helped Kagome light one of the floating lanterns which the humans set out along the rivers and lakes to guide the spirits home on the day they honoured their ancestors.

In the cool of the autumn, when the leaves were just beginning to turn into a riot of colours, he had taken Kagome out on a boat along the river, to properly view the full harvest moon.

And while Sesshoumaru had been enjoying all of that, the time had come for it to end.

It no longer was enough.

He did not wish to keep paying frequent visits to Edo. Instead, he wanted Kagome to be with him every hour of every day – and night.

And therefore, the time had come to pose the miko the question; to finally make her his. Forever.

The unfortunate crux of the matter was that Sesshoumaru knew very little of human customs and even less of those Kagome would be most familiar with.

And he did wish to honour the traditions she was used to because he knew too well the longing the miko carried for the home she had left behind.

He had vowed to himself once he’d made his intentions clear that he would do all he could to make everything right by the miko.

After all, their courtship had begun with the miko explaining to him some of the customs she feared she would never get to experience if she were to get married in the feudal era. 

That was why Sesshoumaru was currently in need of advice… and there was only one person he could ask it from.

But for Kagome, he would do anything.

Even ask for help from the halfbreed.

Inuyasha scowled at his older brother, his triangle ears twitching.

He must’ve heard that wrong, because there was no way in hell the bastard would ever come to him for anything.

But no, there he still was, standing in front of him and regarding him silently.

Inuyasha crossed his arms and scowled a bit more.

He’d love nothing better than to tell him to go screw himself…

Except that it was obvious that the icy prick’s motivations revolved around Kagome.

And… There was a part of him, a very small and stupid part, that felt happy that Sesshoumaru had come to ask for his help.

Small pieces of him, the lingering remnants of the lonely hanyou child he had once been, longing for acceptance more than anything.

So, grudgingly, Inuyasha opened his mouth.

“I don’t know much. But I saw this thing on the television once – well never mind,” he cut off, knowing the bastard would have little patience for hearing about all these modern concepts and devices he was clueless about. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure that when the humans in Kagome’s time propose marriage, they offer the girl a ring.”

“A ring?” Sesshoumaru repeated. “What kind of a ring?”

“I don’t know, a ring,” Inuyasha said, impatient. “Gold, I think. With a stone on it. Don’t know why that’d be so great to have.”

“A ring can certainly be arranged,” Sesshoumaru said.

Inuyasha squinted. 

He almost sounded happy.

Man, that was creepy.

“Also when they’re doing the asking, they kneel before the girl,” Inuyasha added, a gleeful smirk lurking in the corner of his lips.

Because really, much as Sesshoumaru seemed to care about Kagome – which was really too weird to even consider – Inuyasha simply couldn’t see his over-proud brother to submit in front of anyone.

Ha!

“Don’t know much more about the whole getting married business.” Inuyasha shrugged. 

He could’ve stopped it at that. He’d done his part, helped his half-brother out. 

But then, this wasn’t really about helping Sesshoumaru at all. In the end, this was all for Kagome, and Kagome deserved the best.

Better, certainly, than his bastard of an older brother, but if he was whom Kagome had chosen, so be it.

And that’s why Inuyasha cleared his throat.

“If you really want to know about customs from Kagome’s time, there’s this thing called Christmas.”

Sesshoumaru frowned. Sounded out the word.

“Christmas?”

Inuyasha nodded curtly. “It’s a celebration they have. Sometime in late December. It’s supposed to be very romantic.”

“How does one celebrate this… Christmas?” Sesshoumaru asked.

“You celebrate together with your partner. You eat together. You have cake. You give each other gifts. If you want to propose to Kagome like humans in her time do, you should do it on Christmas. I think she’d like it.”

“I think you are correct in that presumption,” Sesshoumaru said.

Inuyasha gaped at him, shocked. The great bastard, telling him that he, the hanyou, was right?

Surely any second now the world would come to an end.

But the world went on and Sesshoumaru asked: “What is a ‘cake’?” 

“It’s a sweet. Baked,” Inuyasha said. “Kind of like bread. The kind the foreigners make.”

“Foreigners such as the ones making their trade out in the west?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“All right. You have given me much to think about. Thank you.”

“Keh!” Inuyasha huffed, flustered. “It’s not for you I’m doing this – it’s for Kagome!”

His brother inclined his head. “This Sesshoumaru is aware. You are a good friend to her.”

That admission both caught Inuyasha off-guard and lifted his heart.

Maybe his brother wasn’t a complete bastard after all, and Kagome really did deserve the best.

So as Sesshoumaru started walking away, Inuyasha called out after him.

“If I can remember anything else I’ll let you know,” he said, voice gruff.

Sesshoumaru nodded, and left.

A subtle flare of youki at a distance had Kagome sit up straighter. A smile bloomed on her lips, a wave of relief stirred in her chest.

She got to her feet and crossed to the door of her hut.

Over the past year, Sesshoumaru had been visiting her in Edo frequently.

They had spent much time together; sometimes conversing for hours on end, sometimes sitting in comfortable silence, on a few occasions even laughing together. They had stolen glances at one another, exchanged fleeting touches here and there.

The last time he’d visited, Kagome had gathered her courage and gone for a kiss, which Sesshoumaru had eagerly and thoroughly reciprocated.

That had been several weeks ago, and he hadn’t come to see her since.

Kagome had started to worry – first that something had happened to Sesshoumaru, then that she’d scared him off or misinterpreted those lingering glances and brushes from his fingers.

But now, he had returned. 

Kagome leaned against the doorjamb, pulling the quilted haori she wore over her kosode tighter around her for warmth, as she watched Sesshoumaru walk across the village to her.

He stopped before her, and, before she had a chance to greet him, had tilted her head back with a claw-tipped finger and claimed her lips in a searing kiss.

Kagome’s stomach performed several spirited somersaults and she smiled against his insistent lips, her heart beating a giddy rhythm in her chest.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice hoarse when he finally pulled back.

“Hello,” he greeted, allowing his finger to trail down her cheek before he backed away a step.

“Come in,” Kagome said, making room in the doorway.

“No,” Sesshoumaru said, holding out his hand. “We have another destination today.”

Curious, Kagome slipped on her straw sandals and nimbly tied them on before taking Sesshoumaru’s hand. 

He led her to the edge of the village – but when Kagome expected him to walk past the last hut at the edge of Inuyasha’s forest, he instead turned towards the doorway.

“We’re going to visit Rin and Kohaku?” Kagome asked.

Sesshoumaru squeezed her hand. “They have been kind enough to render me their aid.”

Kagome tilted her head, confused. What on Earth would Sesshoumaru need help with?

And why hadn’t he come to her for it?

Frowning, she ducked through the doorway after Sesshoumaru – and stopped to stare at the sight that met her eyes in the light of the merrily blazing fire in the cooking hearth. 

“What…?” Kagome asked, struggling to form a sentence. 

She untied and kicked off her footwear and hurried into the hut. Rin and Kohaku were nowhere to be seen, but on the raised flooring at the back of the hut, a veritable feast had been laid out. 

She noticed many of her favourites – and oddly enough, roasted chicken.

In the very centre, there was a curious piece. It… looked like a baked good of some sort.

Which was both baffling and bizarre, since as far as Kagome knew, there shouldn’t be any bakeries in Japan for another 300 years or so.

And yet there it sat, this baked thing.

Kagome stared at it in confusion for several more seconds, until it finally clicked.

She gasped.

Her gaze flickered from the cake to the roasted chicken and then to Sesshoumaru.

“Merry Christmas, Kagome,” he wished her carefully enunciating the foreign words.

Kagome felt perilously close to tears. She cradled her hands to her chest. 

“How…? How did you know? How did you do all this?”

“I am aware of how important your customs are to you,” Sesshoumaru said, his golden eyes piercing. “Therefore, it was my wish to honour them. Celebrating Christmas was Inuyasha’s suggestion, so if there are any inaccuracies they are the hanyou’s fault.”

Kagome let out a startled laugh.

“I was also told that giving gifts was customary, so I took the liberty of preparing something for you.”

“Oh you shouldn’t have, that’s just too much, putting together all this is more than – what are you doing?! Sesshoumaru?”

Kagome clutched at her throat, her mind whirling, her gaze focused on the lacquered box Sesshoumaru was holding out to her, presumably containing her gift.

“Inuyasha told me this was customary as well,” Sesshoumaru deadpanned, from the kneeling position he’d assumed before her.

“Perhaps he was playing a prank on you,” Kagome said, shaking her head. “This isn’t how Christmas gifts are – oh. Oh.”

Sesshoumaru had opened the lacquered box and the tears were now burning in Kagome’s eyes.

Inside the box, there was a ring. A simple golden band, with a deep blue stone crafted in the shape of a crescent moon.

“I…” Kagome had to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Is this why Toutousai paid a surprise visit to the village a couple of weeks ago and seemed overly interested in my hands?”

The upwards twitch of the corner of Sesshoumaru’s lips was all the answer Kagome needed.

Then he cleared his throat and started to speak: “Much as I have enjoyed this past year with you, I have come to yearn more than what a mere courtship could offer. I am ready to make a commitment to you and therefore ardently hope that you would consent to be my mate.” 

A lone tear sliding down her cheek and her lips trembling into a smile, Kagome nodded.

“Yes,” she breathed, voice hoarse with emotion. 

And then, abandoning all decorum, Kagome rushed to him, fell to her knees and hugged him fiercely. She turned her head, found his lips and kissed him. He kissed her back with equal fervour, but then grabbed her shoulder to push her back. 

“Before we forget ourselves, miko, there is one thing more,” he told her as he took her hand.

With care that made Kagome’s heart swell even more it already had, Sesshoumaru slid the ring onto her finger.

It fit perfectly, and Kagome could feel it give out one faint pulse.

She smiled down at it, wondering what Sesshoumaru had given to Toutousai to use in the forging of the ring; only he would think to create an engagement ring that carried a trace of his youki.

Kagome cupped Sesshoumaru’s face, the ring resting against the skin of his cheek, and gave him a new kiss. Slower, more tender, and filled with the love that was overwhelming her.

Then, she let her fingers intertwine with his and followed him to the feast he’d prepared for her.

She met his eyes and marvelled at how wonderful it was to be celebrating Christmas here in the Sengoku Era, and with the person who mattered to her the most.

Accepting the cup of tea from him and noting the glint of the ring on her finger in the firelight, Kagome was filled with more happiness than she could’ve ever wished for.

[letswritefanfiction]

Pink Macarons

A Pokemon oneshot. Also can be read on ffnet here.

Summary: Who needs a man on Valentine’s Day? After the events of XYZ, Serena and her friends try out the new livestreaming feature on Pokévision, whilst trying to make the most of a difficult holiday by baking and hanging out together. Onesided Amour and onesided PoffleShipping.

“I can’t figure out how to do it!” Serena moaned as she fiddled with the equipment setup. “I don’t know if it’s the laptop or the camera!”

“Let Shauna do it,” Miette said. “She’s the only one of us to have used the new livestream feature before. We need you with food prep anyway.”

Food prep, at this point, was mostly done, thanks to the work Serena had done earlier. Every counter in the Pokémon Center kitchen was covered in all the ingredients needed for baking: sugar, moo moo butter, flour, and lots and lots of berries. Every spot that wasn’t had equipment like mixers and bowls.

“Yeah, I don’t remember how to cut the Qualot Berry so that it looks pretty,” Nini said, struggling with a paring knife.

Serena gratefully abandoned the filming setup to help Nini as Shauna, wiping her hands on her apron, took her place.

“If you can’t do that, you can always just cover it in chocolate and call it a day,” Serena said as she demonstrated, leaving a perfectly carved rose. “And remember to save these little bits for your Pokémon! Nobody likes waste.”

There was a little scrap pile going of edible berry bits that Serena was going to give to Pancham later. Delphox was the only one of her Pokémon out at the moment as Pancham couldn’t be trusted during the cooking process and Sylveon would likely be jumpy around this lively group of girls. Not to mention that with four girls in the room, space was already limited.

“Okay, save the little gems of wisdom for when we’re actually on the air,” Miette said sarcastically as she managed to sculpt a berry rose just as Serena had.

“I’ve got it!” Shauna exclaimed as she stepped away from the laptop.

“Wait, we’re live now?” Serena squeaked.

“Yep!” Shauna waved into the camera. “Hi, Serena’s audience! Happy Galentine’s Day!”

“No, no, I have to introduce—excuse me, Nini—us and what we’re doing!”

Serena scooted past Nini, placing the paring knife on the kitchen island behind her as she scrambled to join Shauna in front of the camera.

“Hi, I’m Serena! And this is my partner Delphox,” Serena said, gesturing in the background to where Delphox was washing the last of the berries. “And today—”

“On Galentine’s Day,” Shauna inserted.

“On Valentine’s Day, I have a special treat for you! My first ever livestream! And my friends Shauna, Miette, and Nini are all here to help me out. Their socials are in the information tab below—and they’re all great Pokémon Performers, so you should follow them if you don’t already. Thanks to everyone who saw my post on Fletchat today and is tuning in! Today, we have a Q and A planned where you can ask me and my friends questions while we bake for Valentine’s Day!”

Miette gave Serena a sympathetic look. “Serena, you’re talking really fast. Seems like you’re nervous.”

Serena gave the camera a big, cheesy smile and said with the utmost confidence: “I am!”

Miette shook her head and went back to working with the berries.

“I’ll be doing most of the moderating,” Shauna said, coming back in front of the camera, “so let me see those questions! Oh, here’s one. What are we baking, gals?”

“Everything,” Miette said.

“We’re making Poké Puffs and macarons,” Serena answered, ignoring Miette. “And we’ll be giving tips throughout the broadcast for those at home who are interested!”

“And for us,” Nini added. “Serena’s a much better pâtissière than we are.”

“Oh, you guys, I don’t know about that!” Serena said, trying to fight off her blush. “Anyway, for Valentine’s Day, we’re making everything pink and romantic. So that means heart-shaped macarons and beautifully decorated Poké Puffs.”

“Del phox del!”

“Oh, and we’ll be doing some taste tests too.”

“Serena, why don’t you let them know what we’re working on right now?”

“Good idea, Shauna! So, Miette and Nini are working on sculpting some fruit to make pretty toppings for the Poké Puffs—if you want a video on that, I can make one—and I have our macaron batter here! Delphox, can you hand me the Persim Berries and the pink towel?”

“Delphox!”

“If you want to use food dye to color your batter, you can, but I prefer to use more natural ingredients,” Serena explained as she took the items from Delphox. “If you put Persim Berries in bright sunlight, even after being picked, they become very rich in color. Then you can put them in a towel like this, and wring them out to get a very bright juice!”

Serena demonstrated putting a few berries in the cloth and twisting it. Dark pink juice bled from the towel and into the bowl that the berries had been in, and Serena showed it to the camera before pouring it into the white macaron batter.

“Persim Berries don’t have a lot of flavor,” Nini added. “So you don’t have to worry about your food tasting weird when you use it.”

“Very true, Nini. With macarons, all you have to worry about is that you don’t water down the texture too much, so start with a little bit. And you can always reduce the juice on the stove so that it’s more potent. Just make sure it cools down all the way first, because you don’t want to deflate your egg whites!”

As Serena folded the batter, Shauna was scrolling through comments on Pokévision and Fletchat, looking for questions.

“Aw, this is sweet,” Shauna cooed. “How can four lovely girls such as yourselves be without dates on Valentine’s Day? I’d take any of you out. Thank you so much!”

“Well, now seems like a nice time for a reminder that not everyone is alone on Valentine’s Day because they failed to get a date,” Nini said. “Some of us either don’t want a date today or maybe don’t want a date ever.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the case for all of us,” Miette drawled. “Right, Serena?”

“Hmm?” Serena asked, a blush rising to her face as she reached for a piping bag. “Um, sure. Everyone’s different.”

Serena knew that Miette was just trying to get a rise of her—like always. She should have expected that live TV wouldn’t make her behave any differently. But Serena had a job to do here, and Miette’s antics weren’t going to steer her off-course.

“So when your batter is this consistency just scoop it into your piping bag and make sure you have a sheet tray ready,” Serena said, steering the conversation back to what she was doing.

“Ooh, Shauna, you’re not reading out the good stuff,” Miette said, leaning over Shauna’s shoulder to read the live feed. “LuvdiscLuver—very Valentinesy name, I approve—wants to know if there’s anyone Serena wishes she were out with tonight.”

“Hahahaha,” Serena barked, the laugh coming out completely unnatural. “I, uh, I love my girls, so I couldn’t be happier here baking with them.”

“Lies!” Miette got her face close up to the camera and pointing accusingly at Serena. “There is definitely someone Serena would rather be with, and I know who it is.”

Shauna shook her head at Miette and Nini, poked her on the shoulder. “It’s not your business to talk about that,” she whispered.

“Ooh, the comments are really coming in now!” Shauna said, scanning as the comments went flying by. “Everyone wants to know your crush, Serena!”

“Are you sure they don’t want to know how to shape macarons into hearts?” Serena asked, tilting the camera down so that the people could see what was happening on her sheet tray—rather than the boiling blush on her face. “If some of them don’t turn out perfect, just make sure to put that one on the bottom of your finished product!”

“Okay, Serena doesn’t have to tell you all that,” Shauna said, crouching down to get into the camera’s frame. “But to get back at Miette, I’ll tell you that she has a crush on the same person Serena does!”

Shauna gasped dramatically, putting a hand in front of her mouth as she looked at Miette and scurried out of frame.

Miette grabbed the camera and jerked it back up so it was right at eye-level. “Yep, that’s the truth; thanks, Shauna. One thing you all don’t know about Serena—she has great taste in guys. So of course I like the same one.”

Serena looked down at her macarons. They were hardly the best ones she’d ever done—most of them would qualify as bottom-halves, if that were possible. She could only hope that all the distractions hadn’t messed up the recipe. Macarons required such a specific finish, it would be obvious immediately if something went wrong.

At least Delphox was keeping things on track. She’d already rinsed out the bowl that the batter had been in and was reaching to do the same with the pastry bag.

“Okay,” Serena said. “I’m just going to slip these in the oven and then we can move on to our PokéPuff batter! Girls?”

Serena was going for a neutral vanilla base with pink sprinkles and a custard-like sour Colbur Berry topping. Then the girls would make them almost look like fruit tarts, putting the beautifully cut berries on top. All four of the girls knew how to make PokéPuffs by heart, and were able to get together the ingredients for this particular version of Serena’s with machine-like precision. Serena was weighing the dry ingredients, Miette measuring the wet, and Nini was juicing the Colbur berries.

“Wow, you guys are getting a lot of questions,” Shauna mused as she grated a little bit of the pink flesh of the spiky berries to add a bit of Valentine’s pink to the PokéPuffs.

“I have a link to my blog post about this recipe in the description,” Serena said. She’d written the post up that day and used pictures from her practice batches. If Pokémon Performing didn’t go her way, she could always be a food blogger.

“No, not about that—though you girls are doing great,” Shauna said absently as the wet and dry ingredients were combined. “No, people want to know how you two can stay friends when you have a crush on the same boy.”

Serena—whose face had finally returned to its even, beige complexion—could feel herself flushing again. When she’d said she wanted the livestream to be pink-themed, she hadn’t thought her face would be a part of it. Though, she was sure that Miette would use it as an excuse for her behavior.

“Well, it’s not serious for me,” Miette said, answering first since Serena had taken over the batter and Nini was handling the topping. “I mean, I like this guy. He’s cute, kind, and skilled. He ticks the boxes, you know? But I don’t honestly know him that well. I can recognize that and know that my feelings for my friend, Serena, are more important than a little crush on some guy.”

Serena looked up from where she’d been staring intently at the batter that she, frankly, was beginning to over-mix now that she’d put the sprinkles in. She blinked at Miette, surprised to hear such a mature response.

“Here, lemme take that,” Miette said, grabbing the bowl from Serena and beginning to dole the mixture out into a greased cupcake tin. That left Serena on screen with Nini mixing away in the background.

“Um, well, it’s different for me,” Serena started nervously. She couldn’t forget the fact that she wasn’t just in a room with her four friends and her Pokémon. There were thousands of concurrent viewers right now, watching as she floundered for the perfect words. “You could say…it’s more serious for me. I know this guy really well and I’ve liked him for a long time. But like Miette said, that’s different from our friendship. I mean, she teases me about it, and maybe it seems like she doesn’t care, but I trust her enough to know that she wouldn’t betray me or do something that would really hurt me.”

“What would you do if one of you were to start dating this mystery guy, someone wants to know?” Shauna asked.

“I’d get over it,” Miette said, popping her head back in frame as she finished up with the PokéPuffs. “Always more Goldeen in the sea.”

“Serena?” Shauna prompted.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Serena said honestly. “Realistically, I mean. Because, in reality, I don’t think he’s ready to date either of us. Or anyone. I mean, maybe I tell myself that just because he didn’t show much interest in me, even after the signs I gave him.”

Serena avoided eye contact with the girls. She still hadn’t told any of them about their one kiss. Knowing Ash, he could have missed all the smaller signs she’d given him…but she didn’t believe even he could mistake what that kiss had meant for her.

“I don’t believe that,” Shauna said, jumping in next to Serena. “Look, we all know this guy. And, for all his good points, which Miette pointed out, I think we can all agree that he’s not boyfriend material quite yet. He’s not ready. Right, Nini?”

Nini looked up. “Um…let’s just say he’s the type you have to be patient with.”

“And I’m not that patient,” Miette said. “So in the event that Serena and what’s-his-face end up together, I’m going to give her a big congratulations. You win.”

Just then, the timer for the macarons went off and Serena scrambled to turn it off, not wanting the sound to be too irritating on the livestream.

“How are they looking, Delphox?” she asked.

“Del, del!”

Delphox reached in and pulled out the sheet tray, and Serena could see the perfect feet that the macarons had formed. They might not be shaped impeccably, but at least they’d cooked well.

“That’s perfect,” Nini, said. “Now we can put in the PokéPuffs!”

Nini did just that as Delphox set out the macaron halves to cool and Serena started on the buttercream filling, able to do it completely by muscle memory.

“Aw, Serena, look at this comment,” Shauna said. “It says: Don’t worry, Serena. Relationships are all about timing. This guy might be the guy for you, or Miette, in parenthesis, but today wasn’t the day. Maybe tomorrow or next Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s so nice,” Serena said, touched to find that her fans were such lovely people. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I hope you’re right.”

Delphox had been fanning a sheet pan over the macarons, quickening their cool-down process. Miette touched one of the cookies and declared, “I think they’re cool enough to pipe now!”

Serena had just started scooping the buttercream into a fresh piping bag when Shauna came over and bumped her on the hip. “I’ll do this part, Serena. You should read what people are saying to you for a minute. They’re your fans!”

Since this was Serena’s first livestream, she was surprised to see how quickly the chat was flying by. It was hard to grab onto any one thing to respond to, but it was touching to see how many people were watching and cared enough to write in. There were messages about the food, people saying they were fans of the other girls, and lots of people grateful for the stream, as they didn’t have any Valentines plans themselves. They didn’t feel so lonely, because they felt a kinship with Serena and her friends.

Serena couldn’t help but think of Valentine’s Days passed as she imagined all the people at home watching her stream. Last Valentine’s Day, Serena had been traveling with Ash, Clemont, and Bonnie. It had been lovely to be with Ash, of course, though it wasn’t exactly in the way she might have hoped. And every year before that, she’d been alone with her mother, wishing that she was with Ash, or someday would be. Funny how when she finally was, it ended up being so different from her imagination.

Really, it felt like her first real Valentine’s Day was this one. Even if she didn’t have a date, this was the first time she was doing anything to celebrate. And everyone at home was celebrating along with her.

“You know what, I want to answer that first question honestly,” Serena declared suddenly.

“Which one?” Shauna asked

“The first one Miette asked—”

“Geez, that was, like, half an hour ago!”

“Regardless,” Serena said. “The one about who I wish I was with tonight. The truth is that I feel a bit sad that I’m not with the guy I have a crush on. I feel a bit lonely, like I’m seeing a lot of you at home feel. But you know what? I think I would probably feel a bit lonely if I were on a dream date with him too. I think that’s just something that people feel. But what I said before was the truth too: I couldn’t be happier to be with my gal pals tonight, enjoying Galentine’s Day.”

Shauna grinned. “Yeah! Galentine’s Day!”

“Or Palentine’s or whatever it is for you,” Serena continued. “Any day that reminds us of our connections with other people, and Pokémon,” Serena added, sparing a look at Delphox, “and encourages us to spend time with them is a good day. But it’s just what you make of it.”

“And we,” Nini said, bringing the finished macarons into the picture, “are making the finest desserts in Kalos tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Serena started, only to be cut off by Miette plopping one in her mouth.

“No, she’s right. Fuck, Serena, these are amazing!”

“Miette!” Serena exclaimed. “You can’t say that!”

Miette wiped a bit of frosting off the corner of her mouth and winked at the camera. “Oops.”

“Seriously, Miette, they could strike my channel!”

“Nothing to be done now!”

“Okay!” Shauna said, pushing in front of the other girls. “I think that’s the end of our stream! Thanks to Serena for hosting all of us, and make sure you check out everyone’s links in the description below. Sorry you all couldn’t see us assemble the PokéPuffs, but rest assured that we will, and then we’ll eat all of them until the only pain we have is in our stomachs. Everyone, have a fantastic Galentine’s Day and we’ll see you all next time! Bye!”

Only Nini managed to join in waving to the camera before Shauna ended the broadcast with a sigh.

“Well, that’s that.”

“Why did you end the broadcast there?” Serena asked. “Shouldn’t I have said something to everyone? What if there were more comments we needed to respond to?”

“Sorry, I just figured we’d better end things before Miette decided to say anything else.”

“I really am sorry, Serena,” Miette said, in a tone that made it difficult for Serena to tell if she was being truthful or not. “These are just some really effing good macarons. For real.”

“If that’s the case…” Nini reached over and grabbed one, giving it a once over. Despite the uneven heart shape, the cookie had the same coloring all the way through, looking perfectly cooked all the way around. When she popped it into her mouth, she couldn’t help but moan. “Oh yeah. We’re definitely gonna eat these until our stomachs hurt.”

Serena was unable to hide a grin as any irritation she felt towards Miette or Shauna evaporated. She just loved feeding people good food.

“Just you wait until the PokéPuffs are ready,” Serena said, pulling out a berry that looked like a large lima bean. “I got us some Micle berries. They’re pretty rare, but they have this incredible flavor that makes your mouth just pucker like when you’re drinking a dry wine. Squeezing just a bit of them on top of my PokéPuffs is my secret weapon.”

“God, how can you be making me hungry while I’m already eating?” Shauna asked, digging into the macarons as well.

“Ugh, why aren’t they ready yet?” Nini complained.

Serena shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to spend all day together.”

The girls looked at each other, smiling. Yeah, maybe it would have been nice to be in a nice romantic restaurant across from Ash, holding hands and eating expensive food. But beyond that possibility, Serena was so thankful for the reality of her best girl friends here with her on this February fourteenth, doing something they all loved, together.

That was really a happy Valentine’s day.

FIN

[pinetasticapple]

What if we had known each other first and fallen in love second: Mr Pigeon

Also on ffnet and ao3!

"Have you ever wondered why the English musical of "Les Miserábles" is more popular when the original is a French work and the French musical of "Romeo and Juliet is also more popular than the original English version?"

Marinette raised her eyebrow, her arms still crossed on her chest while she waited for Adrien to finish eating, although he was more interested in debating than finishing the carrot bits on his plate. Well, that settled it, she was going to strangle that mangy cat.

Adrien offered a smile and plucked one of the carrots in his mouth. He had told a little lie in order to stay around school for lunch just to watch Marinette struggling to not shake him right there in front of everyone. Oh the power to have a secret. Well, another secret. One that he was savoring to keep from Marinette as long as possible.

"Woah, why is Adrien grinning so evil? That's so not like him" Alya joined them on the table, giving Marinette her fruit on the way in exchange for the jello container Marinette had saved.

"Beats me" Nino said, who had been looking at the conversation for a while "he knows something that will happen and won't tell Marinette about it."

"Just that I'll find it interesting" Marinette took a bite out of the apple Alya had given her "and he's gloating on it!"

"How dare you Adrien, making my girl suffer" Alya patted her shoulder "but if it's information you want…"

"You didn't sneak into a locker again, did you? "

"Hey, I learned my lesson from last time" she raised her hands "but I do have some intel that principal Damocles will give an announcement in our class later on, about what? I still need to dig a little more."

"Or you could just wait five more minutes and hear it live," Adrien shrugged "I swear you'll like it."

Marinette squinted at him but gave up on trying to pry it out of Adrien. She knew by now it'd be a lost cause.

"Remind me to never get on your evil side," Nino said once the bell rang, earning another smile from Adrien.

"Oh this is not my evil side,"

"No, that one is way worse" Marinette said and walked ahead of them so the boys couldn't see her face. She had met that side once when an akuma fight happened at 4 in the morning. Adrien was not so happy about losing precious sleep hours.

They went to their seats and Marinette looked almost impatiently at the front for Mme. Bustier to arrive. Adrien did say it was going to be an announcement before class so she had to be here already. She still ignored Adrien's subtle glance at her and amused smile he threw at her.

She didn't get a chance to stare at him as the door opened with the teacher and principal Damocles arriving to the classroom.

"Good afternoon," he addressed them just as Mme. Bustier set up the projector to show a slide that said 'Design Contest', the principal speaking about the increase in school extracurricular activities to promote and incite students to do beyond the academic walls and just like that it was as if many pennies dropped on Marinette's head.

Oh that sly cat.

"You only have one day to work on your fashion piece and it must be your own design," the principal looked at the class "and tomorrow first thing in the morning your finished presentation will be judged by none other than the great fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, the father of our own student Adrien Agreste."

There were many sounds and gasps floating in the classroom, but Marinette's mind was already checking all her ideas and projects. As much as she disliked Adrien's father in how he was with his own son, a part of her was still at guilt in admiring the man as a fashion designer, a leader in the field.

"In fact, Adriel will model the winning design in his next photoshoot!"

Oh, Marinette knew his measurements by heart from countless cosplay requests. Most of them hidden in Marinette's room because if Adrien's father ever found out well, that would be disastrous.

Hm, Marinette had to rethink her perspective on Gabriel Agreste again.

"And now to announce this year's theme: derby hats!"

Adrien tried not to snicker. Why on earth would they choose that to begin with? But he was glad to have kept it a secret. He knew first hand Marinette was more than good when it came to fashion and this contest was like the perfect fit to her. Oh he couldn't wait to see what his father would say about her designs. Not like he could show him beforehand because the possibility of him thinking it to be biased since Marinette was his friend.

He was practically feeling her energy buzzing from behind and he couldn't wait to see what she would come up with, even if it was something like a bowler hat.

At least it's not a fedora.

The class went on as normal as it could be, with Adrien staying behind to pack his stuff while Marinette nearly ran to the locker room, no doubt to pick her sketchbook.

"So, you going to give it a go?" Adrien asked Nino on his way out, smiling at Nino's face.

"Oh no, fashion design is not my thing" he pointed at where Marinette and Alya were "leave that to Marinette."

Adrien smiled and looked at his friend pacing front and back in front of Alya, babbling something he couldn't quite understand from where he was. Well, time to go do some reassurance.

"Liked the surprise?" Adrien leaned against the wall just as Marinette jumped out of the bench in surprise. For a superhero Adrien enjoyed sneaking up to her like this.

"I'm going to fail so bad" she rubbed her face "and this is how my career ends without even beginning."

"Oh come on" Adrien patted her shoulder "your designs are amazing! You totally have a chance in this."

"You really think so?"

"Cross my heart" he smiled "I can't wait to see what you come up with."

He waved at the girls goodbye and went on his way back home to his piano lessons. Adrien was pleased with how it had gone and he was honest when he said he couldn't wait to see the project Marinette would bring to the table.

He also knew it was best not to bother her until she was done so he just dedicated himself to practice and then work on his assignments, only to find out the latest akuma that was terrorizing the city.

"Pigeons have taken over Paris,"

Say what now?

Adrien looked at the news, baffled at the amount of pigeons that surrounded the buildings, the streets, even on the Eiffel tower.

He looked at the akuma, Mr. Pigeon, calling out the city in name of the blasted birds and Adrien was seriously wondering if Hawkmoth was that desperate or plain bored.

"This is going to be a nightmare" Adrien stood up, already dreading the idea to go after this particular akuma. He transformed and jumped out of the window, making his way to the Eiffel tower across the rooftops when he heard Ladybug's voice.

"Now this is weirder than weird,"

"Birds of a feather flock together," he smiled, only for his nose to itch as a jet pigeon flew above them, sneezing so hard he ended up rolling off the rooftop.

"I'm allergic to feathers" he rubbed his nose, already feeling his eyes watering.

"That's helpful" Ladybug offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Hah, tell me about it" Chat sniffled "so much for surprise attacks this time."

"We could always run to a pharmacy and get you antihistamine- "

"Nah," Chat shook his head "feather allergy isn't that common and we don't want people to put two and two together, I'll be fine, besides, we have more important things to deal with."

He caught up Ladybug with what else was happening, both coming up with a plan to lure Mr. Pigeon –he still was not used to that name- towards them and deal with the akuma.

Which ended in Chat with a police cap at the park.

"An uniform would have been better," Chat glanced at the tree Ladybug was using to hide.

"Just act like a park ranger or something."

"This park is way too small to have a ranger" Chat snickered, soon bored from standing still.

"So," he glanced at Ladybug "how's the project going?"

"I'm missing some parts but I will have it ready" she grinned "but don't think I won't forget you keeping this secret from me."

"You wound me bug" he placed his hands on his chest "and here I was thinking I had done a good de-a-achoo!"

Ladybug turned to see a giant ball made entirely of pigeons surround Chat, the poor cat sneezing as the pigeons lifted him up and away from the park.

"Hey!" she chased after the ball, leading her to the top of the Grand Hotel, where even more pigeons waited on the rails and parasols.

"You know, this is how a horror movie can start,"

"You are not making me watch a horror movie" Ladybug glared at the pigeons, her yo-yo at the ready. The cooing was unnerving and there was no sign of Mr. Pigeon anywhere nearby, she couldn't help but think they had fallen into a trap.

And she hated to be right when a whirlpool of pigeons surrounded them, blocking the sight of the giant cage that fell on top of them, trapping them for good.

"This is just grea-choo!" Chat sniffled "I hate birds."

"Too bad you can't eat them," Ladybug glanced around "look!"

They glared at Mr. Pigeon throwing the usual villain monologue of demanding the miraculous from them, only this time they were surrounded by pigeons who were all ready to throw…

"Ew no" Chat's voice sounded stuffy already "no thank you."

"Chat, the bars!"

Chat didn't need to hear it twice as he summoned his Cataclysm to destroy the cage. His eyes were really watery but they barely managed to escape the sudden swarm of pigeons launching at them, the blunt too hard to dent a metal door.

"Is it wrong that I don't feel bad for the blasted birds?" Chat wiped his nose for the umpteenth time "they'll be fine after you cast the cure."

"Don't be mean to the birds" Ladybug helped him up and pointed at the stairs so they could get out of the hotel.

Chat ran behind her, the beeping in his ring growing insistent.

"I have to find a place to hide before my identity is reveal,"

"Yeah" Ladybug couldn't help but to grin "you wouldn't want to let the cat out of the bag."

Chat squinted at her. Oh, he so understood the timing of the situation.

"Ha, ha, very funny."

The lobby was packed with panicked guests and the mayor, but Ladybug could only stare amused at Chat sneaking his way to a suite in order to feed his kwami. She wasn't going to admit it but sometimes the akumas provided funny situations for her to witness.

Even if this one was scaling up the ridiculous list.

"Why are they all flying to the same direction?"

The ding of the elevator made her turn to see Chat ready to continue their fight.

"So we know he's taking all the park keepers somewhere" Ladybug said as they took a lower route.

"Bird food perhaps?"

"That would be too gross," Ladybug looked at the feather trail that led to a big building, both sticking to the wall to observer.

"The Grand Palais?" Chat frowned "I guess if he wanted a big cage this could be i-a-a"

Ladybug plucked his nose before he could let out a sneeze. The last thing they needed was for them to be caught.

"Let's get this over with" Chat stepped forward only to be held up by Ladybug.

"Ah, it's too easy" she squinted at the gate "we don't want to end up caged again, come on" she pointed to the other side "I have a plan."

It was a good plan, Chat never doubted Ladybug's plans, no matter how farfetched and crazy they ended up sometimes, they always seemed to work out. The problem this time, as Chat would later point out, was his damn allergy that blew up the element of surprise.

The fight was pretty much nonsensical for some, for Chat it just felt like a regular Thursday. But oh was he glad when she finally casted the cure above them, sending the blasted pigeons away from him and giving him a chance to breathe.

"Pound it!" they smiled as their fists bumped.

"Ahh!" she suddenly gasped "I have less than twelve hours to finish that hat!"

"Go, go" Chat smiled at her and made his own way back. He made sure to take a long hot shower to clear out his nostrils and waited until it was late to transform again and pay a late night visit to Marinette.

Chat jumped across the rooftops, happy after a well won fight, and not surprised to see lights coming from Marinette's room despite being almost midnight.

He landed without making a sound and gave a few taps on the trapdoor to announce his arrival. Even if he knew Marinette would be in the zone, he had to make sure she was not going to push herself too hard.

"Chat," she blinked surprised to see him "what are you doing up here?"

"Well buginette, it is quite late and you should be sleeping."

Marinette rolled her eyes but went back down to her room, leaving the door open for him to sneak in.

This was something they didn't do that frequently, what with risking too much of their identities if they frequented each other while one was with the mask. But Chat was curious and this was a special occasion. At least that's what he told himself.

He saw pins and cardboard on the floor, pieces of fabric and loose thread in a pile near her sewing machine. And on the desk was the masterpiece, or at least Adrien thought it was.

"I'm having a struggle with it" Marinette slumped on her chair and showed him the original design "if, and this is still a big if, I win and you model this you will be sneezing nonstop and then the shoot will be ruined and they are going to hate me for ruining hours of work and-!"

"Woah, woah" Chat held her shoulders "I think we can agree that when you win we can solve my allergy out, it wouldn't be the first time I had to use a feather somewhere, we can use synthetic ones!"

"Your dad will certainly think less of the hat if I do that."

"But you can keep the original for the showing and then switch it for me to wear" he smiled at her but noticed her eyes still looking at the hat "Mari… do you regret entering the contest?"

"W-what?" Marinette turned her eyes to him "what makes you say that?"

"It's just…" he rubbed the back of his head "I can't help but see you worrying and maybe this was too much pressure?"

He was surprised to feel Marinette holding onto his hand, squeezing it tight as she gave him a small smile.

"Chaton," she looked at their hands "thank you for worrying about me but" she sighed "you know me, I over think almost everything."

"Hm, yeah" he shrugged "but they turn out into great plans, like today."

She giggled.

"I appreciate you worrying over me" Marinette hugged him "and you know what? You're right, I was worrying too much over this detail. If you say it'll be fine for the showing, I can keep the feather on it."

Chat responded to the hug, his stomach suddenly feeling funny inside him. Huh, maybe he shouldn't have had chicken salad for dinner.

"Alright!" Marinette pulled away and smiled "I still need to finish the embroidery so- "

"R-right!" Chat smiled back "do you need me to wake you up?"

"I'd gladly appreciate it just in case" Marinette waved at him as Chat climbed up the ladder to the trap door "but no singing."

"I could start right now, one more day before the storm~"

"See you in the morning Enjolras" Marinette rolled her eyes and swirled back on her chair to work on the hat.

Chat waved and closed the trapdoor to make his way back home. He didn't indulge in why the weather suddenly felt warmer than when he had left.

The next day arrived and he was nervous for the contest, even if he wasn't participating at all. When he reached the courtyard he saw some of his classmates that had decided to join and work on quite interesting designs. He even saw a steampunk one and he was tempted to try it on.

Adrien waited next to the principal while Nathalie arrived to introduce herself, holding the tablet that had the camera showing his father from his office. Part of Adrien was disappointed he wasn't here in person but it was better than nothing. He looked at the end where Alya was trying to call Marinette to not avail but he knew she was on her way.

Him blasting 'Do you hear the people sing' as an alarm was proof enough of that.

In fact, just as they were observing the steampunk hat that Adrien saw her dashing past them towards her stand, holding her precious hat with care. He still let out a sigh of relief.

Too bad it was short lived as he saw Chloe's entry for the contest. An exact replica of the hat Marinette had designed. He looked at Chloe and shook his head. There was no way he was going to let her get away with it, especially when his father noticed the fact they were the same.

"I apologize for the situation Mr. Agreste but I can prove that this derby hat is my original design," Marinette said with a tone of voice that reminded Adrien so much of Ladybug he thought he didn't have to say anything after all.

He smiled in delight as Marinette showed off her work, without stuttering or tumbling in her words, even showing the stitching that he had seen her working on during the night, that revealed nothing else than her name when turned upside down.

Adrien was proud of her.

"Very exquisite creation, you definitely have the laboring hands of a hat maker miss…"

"Marinette" Adrien provided, standing next to her with a smile as he watched her eyes go wide at being announced the winner of the contest.

"What about we celebrate with a crepe" Adrien said once Nathalie and his father left, him and Marinette the only ones left in the courtyard.

"That sounds great, but" she looked at the hat Chloe had brought and picked it up "can't believe she would try to steal my work."

"It wasn't correct," Adrien sighed "but we can also say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery… it's going to take a lot with her, isn't it?"

"Adrien" Marinette looked at him "it's not your job to fix Chloe."

"I know," he frowned "but I guess I can't give up on her yet."

To his surprise Marinette only placed the hat on his head, having removed the feather from it to avoid him sneezing.

"I'll hold your bargain on that crepe after class" she offered a smile "now come on derby boy, you don't want to be late."

Adrien tipped the hat and walked with her to the classroom.

[yayninjabob]

A story behind a story

I have never wrote 100,000 words of anything in my life and 9 months ago when I first sat down to write Villain: Redux I definitely did NOT anticipate the length it would reach by the end of Part I. Now that it is done though I feel like I can talk about it.  Well not really the story but the story behind the story?  

A very lengthy and personal author's note for Part I: Remote Control

How I started writing again: My relationship with my writing was non existent for years.  I honestly went through a very long drought where I felt like everything I created just sucked so bad and I had zero motivation for creating shit.  I would talk with my therapist or my wife and friends about feeling so out of touch with my creative side and feeling pretty lost without it.  Really, I pretty much felt like it was dead forever.  I eventually started a personal journal again... And little drabbles here and there would come to mind... It felt alright but meh. "What did you enjoy about writing that you still feel is missing?" I was asked. Ffffffuck me I dont know.  Writing as a teen and in my early twenties wasn't something I ever thought about even when I did it every damn day of my life.  I guess I missed having that ongoing plot in the back of my head that I could escape to whenever life was lame. Daydreaming crazy stories as a kid was just my favorite past time and writing went with it.  But I just didnt have any more stories in my head. Nothing new or exciting enough at least. Anyways. January was my dads bday.  2019 and that year my dad asked for something.  Now my dad isn't one to ask for gifts. No, normally he is extremely frustrating and expects everyone to read his mind while saying "I dont care" yet if his gifts dont meet his secretive expectations he gets all butthurt and emo and says that nobody knows him.  Ok but January 2019 he asks me to write him something.   "What?  A story?  A poem?  A birthday card?" "I dont care just write me something." Typical. "I dont care."  Yeah right.  What the hell does he expect from me jeez.... My dad was the OG storyteller in my life- real shit or bullshit- he could spin a crazy story like no one else. My uncles and his friends would sit around smoking and drinking and listening to one wild tale after the next.   He could entertain people for HOURS just with the shit he’d say.  I always thought he'd make a brilliant stand up comedian but my dad would just laugh at the idea. So for his gift I figured I'd retell one of his personal wild tales - his first encounter with a mountain lion at 12 during a hunting trip with my late great uncle Joe who was his adoptive father figure.  Honestly my dad was always so incredibly descriptive and I heard that tale about a bazillion times growing up, and even though he hadnt shared it in probably 15+ years, it was easy to recall. I could just close my eyes and see it clear as day.  I stayed loyal to his story but I used my own words.  It really surprised me how easy I found those words though.  Writing had been such an impossible challenge for so long yet when I finished the short story I had written 12 pages in a single afternoon and I was shocked but in a good way.  It was his story so I was pretty sure he would like it. He's got a pretty big ego lol. I typed it up on the typewriter my dad had gotten me back when I was a teen and serious about becoming a "real writer."  I figured he would appreciate that.  I gave him the story on his birthday.  He didnt read it right away. We went to the backyard and the two of us shared a joint and while I started chasing the dogs in the yard for a bit I saw he finally picked the story up. And when he finished he started crying. Which is always weird when it's your dad right?  He isn't one to cry easily. Last time I saw tears in his eyes was three years prior at my wedding but even that wasnt like this.  He told me "You need to write again.   You need to try." But I still felt like I couldn't. I never really thought I was good at it anyway.  Sure, people told me they liked my writing and it meant a lot that my dad was moved so much by my short story that I started to believe “hey maybe I can write,” but... I dunno.  I had a rough idea for an original novel that I sat down with later that month and tried to work out... But it just felt forced and uninteresting.  It wasnt a story my mind could just escape to effortlessly.  The passion just wasnt there. After a while my wife suggested to me "Well when you retold your dad's story that was easier right?  Maybe you should retell another story that you love." And so in August 2019 I sat down and wrote what would eventually become the scarring scene for Villain: Redux

Part I:  Remote Control I spent the rest of August, September and October slowly falling back into my old world of Villain.  I reread both Villain and VillainE for the first time in yeeeeeears.  What. A. Trip. So much stood out to me that was like "Ok young me, I see where you were going but this could be so much better."  I made my list of what I liked and what I wanted to change.. Constructed my outline and then I just went for it.   Halloween night that year was spent finishing my first draft of chapter 1.  It was still in Buttercup's limited POV.  I liked it OK enough but I wondered if it would be improved if I tried third person instead.  I said "fuck it why not" and went for it again but in third person, adding the beginning history of Townsville and then the opening scene with Mojo.   When I finished it I was pretty amused with it and I found myself just starting right away on chapter 2 and adding even more details to my overall outline- it became a trilogy.  It was flowing SO easy and for once writing didnt feel like some forced chore I was performing.   The entire time though I debated whether or not to share any of it.  I didn't think anyone would read it.  But personally, I was falling in love with my new rendition and I really didn't want to stop writing it. So once again I said "fuck it why not" and I started this tumblr to start documenting my new commitment to rewriting Villain for good.  I edited the first chapter and uploaded it a couple days before Thanksgiving. And the support I got from readers honestly made me cry haha... I really really thought the story would go unnoticed.  After all, when I first started writing for the PpG fandom it was always an uphill battle and 90 percent of my first reviews were just flames and criticism.  The original Villain really took a while to gain much of a readership and even though it had its moment of somewhat popularity in the fandom, that moment came after it was completed. A brief glance at the PpG section on FFnet showed me that things really hadnt changed- still 99 percent PpGxRrB romances.  Man, it just seemed so unfair. I freaking love this show and TBH I will never understand the fandom's fixation on those damn Rowdyruffs.  Whatever.  It is what it is.  But because of that and because I hadnt been an active writer in the fandom for like a decade I really thought I'd be lucky to get one review.   And I did!  On the first day!  And I was PUMPED lol.   Then over the next couple of days I got more and most from names I recognized from the past!  I was so touched by some of the things you guys said, you will have no idea what those first 7 reviews meant to me.  And of course the reviews to follow throughout the next chapters only continued to motivate me further. And now I'm done with Part I.  Jeez what a freaking journey.  I feel like I've learned a lot though and I hope that the story only improves from here.   Today, this story invades my subconscious more than I would like to admit.  But.  It is so nice to have an exciting story to escape to once more.  And I feel like I can say that my creative drive is finally restored again which feels amazing.  Who knew it would be this rewrite of all things to do it. So yeah.  I owe the biggest thanks to my readers (the reviewers especially), my wife, and of course my dad.   I know we are just at the beginning of this story, but personally I just feel like I've accomplished more than I could've imagined already... like I said... 100,000 words is something I’ve never done before lol.  And I cant wait to share the rest of the story with everyone.   Anyways that’s my long soppy backstory on how I decided to rewrite Villain.  Thanks for reading. :)

[nekoannie-chan]

The doubt

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Reader.

Word count: 1946 words.

Summary: Brock has a secret, you think he cheats on you, but what would happen if you discovered the truth?

Warnings: Maybe sad.

A/N: My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English, if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

This is my entry to the @trashmenofmarvel ‘s Trashman’s 2K Trash Party with the dialogue prompt #13:

“Guess you were right about me after all”

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platform or language (I translate myself my own work). If you find any of my works in a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs are fine.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

You and Brock had been dating for about three years, contrary to what everyone said and believed, in their childhood, neither of you had what could be considered a true family, so since you started dating it was what you tried to form.

When Cap joined the team, you noticed that Brock changed his attitude somewhat, it was as if he was afraid, maybe he would be moved as a leader since he had directed Strike for many years or maybe he thought he would lose you, there were many girls who were trying to conquer the Cap, but you had no eyes for anyone but Brock.

While they were preparing dinner, your boyfriend's cell phone rang, you noticed that he had tensed.

“Is everything okay?”

He looked at you doubtfully, it even seemed to you that he had turned pale.

"Yes, I know I promised you it would be a romantic dinner, but ..."

"A mission," you concluded.

He nodded, you had that bad luck that there was always a mission, you checked your cell phone to see if you also had to go, there was nothing in yours, although sometimes you didn't go together.

“I promise you that...”

"Just come back safe, I love you," you interrupted.

"I love you," he said before leaving the place.

That's how it went, you sighed, you weren't angry, but if you thought Brock was acting weird.

The next morning Brock returned, it had been hard for you to sleep, as each time you had a separate mission it was difficult for you to sleep, more than anything for the fear of losing him, instead of when you had missions together you protected the each other.

Brock was the only one who had been with you in difficult times, whenever you needed someone he was there, like when your family had kicked you out of the house.

He always seemed to be very rude and cold, but with you he was different, he had always been loving and cared for you, so much that he didn't mind getting hurt in the missions in order to protect you.

You had managed to fall asleep two hours before he returned, when he entered the apartment, he observed you, he didn't want to wake you up, he kissed you on the forehead and left the flower that had brought you to apologize for leaving.

"Hi," you said sleepily.

“Morning beautiful.”

He smiled all the time he had been worried, in fact, he didn't want you to know his biggest secret, yes, he had told you practically all his life and everything he thought, wanted and so on, but there was only one thing he didn't, first because he didn't know how were you going to react, second because he was afraid of losing you, losing everything that you had built in all that time.

"How was your mission?"

"It was something simple," he said without giving further details.

The strange behavior of your boyfriend continued the following weeks you began to suspect that something had happened in that mission ... or there was someone else.

One day you noticed that there were some documents on the table, it looked like a file m Brock had forgotten, both of you didn't use to check the files, but this time you needed answers. You took the folder, you started reading it, you were in shock, and you couldn't believe what you read.

Brock was HYDRA, HYDRA still existed ... doubts began to appear in your head, had he really loved you or was it all another mission? Your life now seemed like a lie, what should you do?

You didn't even hear when the door opened and Brock entered.

"Honey now ... what's up?" He asked when he saw the expression on your face.

He saw the documents, tried to remain calm, his worst nightmare was coming true, he had never wanted you to find out, and he didn't want problems.

“Y/N I can explain ...”

“Explain what? Everything is very clear, Rumlow — you said furiously while waving the documents.”

“Y/N ...”

“What? Are you going to lie to me again? All those things you were telling me were a lie, you were simply looking for a way to cover up appearances” — you snapped furiously.

"No, I don't ... I just didn't tell you the whole truth, I love you"

"You betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D., you betrayed me, I loved you, you played with me, I don't even really care about you, I don't believe you, and all this ... all this was a lie, right?" Your voice began to break.

You managed to regain your composure, you didn't want to hear more lies, and you were very hurt.

“Y/N, I ...”

"Go, I don't want explanations, I don't want to see you again," you demanded.

"I didn't betray you, I'm not leaving, I need you to ..."

"Okay, so I'm leaving," you said.

You took your bag and left the apartment, he tried to stop you, but you didn't let him, then he started calling you by your name, you ignored him and left, you didn't want to hear any more lies.

It had been two weeks since you had left Brock, while you had returned to the apartment where you lived before, you didn't answer the calls or messages and at work you ignored him.

You had felt bad, you did a pregnancy test, it was positive, you were not sure to tell him, you still loved him, but you felt betrayed, you knew his past and you managed to understand why he had joined HYDRA, but you did not understand why he had not abandoned the infamous organization or because I hadn't told you.

Someone knocked on your door, you thought it was Brock, and you see through the peephole, it was Steve, Natasha, Hill and a man you didn't know, you opened the door.

“Cap, Nat, and Hill” you greeted

They entered your apartment, it seemed that they were bad, it also seemed strange that they were going to visit you, it was not as if you were very friendly with them.

“Where is him?” Asked Steve.

“Who?”

"Don't act as a dumb," Nat said

You looked at Natasha without understanding, that day you had not presented yourself to work so you had no idea what was happening.

"Rumlow," said Steve.

"I don't know," you replied.

It was logical that they asked you about him, they did not tell everyone about their separation, it was also not like you were interested in others knowing.

“How are you not going to know? Asked Steve.”

"We broke up two weeks ago," you explained.

They didn't believe you much, so they made you accompany them, they didn't speak to you, but somehow you knew that they believed you were also HYDRA when that was a lie, you were thinking about what you should do, you couldn't stop thinking about all those times that you and Brock had talked about having children, if he left HYDRA, maybe you could have a life as a family...

The Helicarriers had taken off, you sneak out to look for Brock, you had a bad feeling, and you saw him climbing the stairs.

“Brock!” You called him

He stopped when he heard your voice, for a moment he thought it was not real, he turned to make sure it was real.

“Y/N ...”

I was very surprised, I didn't expect to see you in this place, after all, that had happened

“What are you doing? What did you do? “You Asked.

"Guess you were right about me after all," he replied sadly.

"Brock...”

“Y/N, I have a mission, after finishing it I will explain everything ... if you want me to listen,” he asked.

"Let's go, let's go together," you proposed.

“Y/N…”

"I have a bad feeling, please let's go, I need you ... we need you”

“You need me? Who else? “He asked confused.

He thought you were on the side of Steve and S.H.I.E.L.D., who had sent you to convince him to leave HYDRA, he had too many mixed feelings.

"We're going to be parents," you finally confessed.

He dropped his gun, which echoed when he hit the floor, he didn't expect such news.

"You just say it to convince me, you're kidding, right?" He said completely dismayed.

"It's not a lie, I'm waiting for your baby," you said firmly.

“How is that...?

“Do you really ask that?

Brock looked at the stairs that climbed doubtfully, the internal struggle he was having was noticeable, he could not continue doing that mission, and he could not lose the opportunity of what he had always wanted.

"To hell HYDRA," he sentenced.

He approached you, kissed you, and picked up his weapon, they would look for them, he was sure of that, but they would find a way to avoid it.

"We have to get out of here as quickly as possible," he muttered.

It seemed almost an impossible mission, it was difficult to distinguish between friends and enemies, and Brock was trying his best to stay safe.

They had managed to get out of the Triskelion, Brock kept thinking where could go, evidently to any of the departments, they would probably look for you there, especially after he had betrayed HYDRA.

Suddenly they heard how they carried a gun

“Stop!” Ordered a woman

You both turned, it was Hill, Brock stood in front of you to protect you, and he wasn't going to let anyone hurt you.

"If you want to fight someone, it will be with me, she has nothing to do with this," Brock warned.

Neither objected when you were handcuffed and taken away for questioning, you might find some protection.

“What plans does HYDRA have?” Maria asked.

“I don’t know.

That was true, you didn't know anything about that organization, more than what you had read in the documents.

"Why you run away?" Natasha asked.

"We were going to run away from everything, leave everything behind."

"You were going to continue with HYDRA's plans," said the Russian.

"No, we wanted to have a new life, far from all this, to start everything from scratch."

"You lied, you said they were done," Maria said.

"I didn't lie, we broke up, but we reconciled, we are going to have a baby, I found out this morning, shortly before you arrived, as soon as I told him, he decided to abandon the mission he had," you explained.

“Did you know he was HYDRA?” Nat asked.

"Yes and no, I found out two weeks ago, that's why I had left him, I didn't really know what to do."

"What were you and Y/N doing as HYDRA agents?" Steve asked.

"Y/N didn't know about this, she's not HYDRA, she found out just a few weeks before," Brock said.

After hours of an exhaustive interrogation, you could finally see each other again, now you had to wait until they made a decision about what to do, Brock assured you that he would do everything possible to mend everything he had done in the past.

"We have made a decision, due to the status of Y/N, we will protect them and say nothing about Rumlow, it will officially appear as one of the victims of the Triskelion, as long as it cooperates," said Maria.

“In what way?” Asked Brock.

"Giving information, where there are HYDRA facilities, the plans, whatever it takes to end them," Steve intervened.

"I will," Brock said.

Brock Rumlow would do anything to keep his family safe, the only one he had and ever had in his life and loved.

[darks-ink]

Play Your Part 3

Chapter 3: You Might Just See A Ghost Tonight

Chapter title is from Emperor’s New Clothes by Panic! At The Disco! I don’t really have any author notes that I haven’t already posted about on Tumblr so...

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“So let me make sure I got this right.” Jazz’s eyes darted from Danny to Sam and Tucker, then back to Danny. “This is Danny, but he’s not our Danny?”

Tucker opened his mouth, but Jazz held up a hand to silence him. “I wasn’t done yet. So this Danny is from an alternate timeline where everyone but him is half-ghost. He got dragged here because of some strange artifact, and now you guys want to go into the Ghost Zone to find out what it did and how to undo it. Right?”

“I guess?” Danny shrugged. “It was their idea.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. Clearly you never have stupid ideas, do you?”

“Hey!” He huffed and crossed his arms. “I don’t know about your Danny, but I do my best to stay in the background, thank you very much! The last thing I need to do is draw the ire of people stronger than me.”

“Ah, that’s definitely not like Danny,” Tucker commented, nodding wisely. “He would fight God if he could.”

“Alright, so I’m not a ballsy half-ghost, whatever. Can we focus, please?” He didn’t want to hear more about how, even here, he was lesser. He had hoped, briefly, that maybe he would fit in better in this world of humans, rather than half-ghosts. But apparently that wasn’t the case.

Apparently he couldn’t even live up to the standards set by himself.

“Of course. Well, here’s my first question for you three.” Jazz gestured at him. “Do you know if you only swapped your minds, and kept the bodies in the right place, or is this a full swap?”

“What?” Danny asked, frowning at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, mind swaps are a classic plot device, right?” She shrugged. “But usually that only involves swapping the minds of the people involved. So if that is what’s happening here, you would still be able to access Danny’s ghost powers, because it’s still his body, not yours.”

Danny held out his hands, staring down at them. They looked perfectly normal. He didn’t feel any different, either. But then he was supposed to be half-ghost, too, normally. So what was the difference?

“How can I tell? If it’s his body or mine?”

“Ghost powers, duh.” Tucker’s grin became even wider when Danny glared at him.

“I don’t know, Jazz. I don’t think he has powers,” Sam pointed out, ignoring the two bickering boys. “With that kinda glaring we would be seeing green already.”

“Huh?” Danny’s head snapped back to the two girls, glare softening in a frown. “Oh, yeah, I guess. I’m not sure how you’re supposed to trigger any of them on purpose, anyway.”

“No one ever taught you how to use your powers? No special lessons or anything?” Tucker stepped in closer again, curiosity peaked. “Even though everyone had them?”

“Well, no.” He shrugged. “Apparently it just kind of comes naturally? They usually start manifesting when you’re pretty young. My dad was really late, and he got them by twelve.”

“Hence why you’re so sure you won’t get them.” Jazz nodded in understanding. “I guess that that makes sense.”

“Why does it matter if it’s a body or a mind swap, anyway?” Sam cocked her head, her brow creased. “We gotta learn more about that artifact, anyway. Whether he has ghost powers or not doesn’t matter for that.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” Jazz admitted. “Curiosity, mostly, and it could’ve helped you narrow down the search.”

“Eh, we’ll figure it out anyway.” Tucker held up his PDA demonstratively. “You’re underestimating our powers of research, Jazz.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” She rolled her eyes, then sat down at the kitchen table. “I’ll keep my parents distracted if they come back before you guys, but don’t make it too long, okay? Or warn me beforehand so I can lure them away.”

“Yes ma’am.” Tucker shot her a grin and a salute as he made his way towards the door to the lab. “Let’s go, guys!”

Danny heaved a sigh but followed anyway, Sam right on his heels. “Is he always this enthusiastic?”

“Nah. I think he just wants to see your reaction to some of the ghosts Danny knows. Or, uh.” She made a face. “Our Danny, I guess, since you’re Danny too.”

He snorted. “Yeah, it’s kind of confusing, isn’t it?”

“No kidding.”

They entered the lab, which… actually looked different from the lab back home. Lots of glowing green on their inventions, too. Clearly powered by ectoplasm. Tucker was already standing next to an enormous cylindrical vehicle, which floated a foot or so above the floor.

“And here’s the Specter Speeder!” He threw out his hands towards the vehicle. “Tah-dah!”

He looked it over, nodding despite himself. “Not bad. Looks better than the RV, at least. Less tank-like.”

“Less reviewing your parents’ inventions, more getting in.” Sam shoved him towards the door, and he stumbled in.

“Alright, alright. No need to shove me!”

She clambered in after him, Tucker following suit and closing the door. “Who’s gonna pilot?” she asked the other boy.

“You do it, I’ll keep track on my PDA.” Following this statement, he sat down in the co-pilot seat. Co-driver? What did you call the person steering a hovercraft? “And Danny can sit in the back and enjoy the view.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

“Eh.” Tucker shrugged. “You can help look at stuff when we get somewhere, but for now we’ll be fine. Maybe prepare yourself to meet some of your fans, so you can convince them that you’re not the normal Danny?”

He made a face. “He has fans?”

“Some,” Sam commented, starting up the Speeder. “But mostly just humans. Tucker was referring to some of the non-malevolent ghosts that Danny is allied with, since we’ll be asking them first. You said it was a magical necklace, right, that brought you here?”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure that that was the thing responsible, yeah.” He shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see it. “Why?”

She turned her head some, sharing a glance with Tucker. “I was thinking we could start with Dora, then. She’s our expert on magical necklaces.”

“A magical necklace that lets you turn into a dragon isn’t the same as a body-swapping necklace, Sam,” Tucker pointed out. He then undermined his own statement by leaning forward and setting the destination on the navigational system.

“It’s a good place to start, anyway.” She shot Danny a look over her shoulder, briefly. “Better than Frostbite, anyway, and Clockwork wouldn’t be any help whatsoever.”

Danny frowned, fingers tapping on the edge of his seat. “You’re telling me that he’s the only half-ghost around, constantly fighting full ghosts, and yet he only has like, three allies? And you guys, I guess.”

“Yeah, kinda.” Tucker shrugged, twisting in his seat to talk more easily. “Most of the ghosts don’t like Danny getting in their way. And some are encouraged by Vlad, too, since he’s also half-ghost and doesn’t like that Danny isn’t on his side.”

“Really? Vlad? As in, Vlad Masters?”

“You know him?” Sam asked, not looking away from the front window.

“Well, yeah. Dad says Vlad is his best friend, but he comes around basically never. Old college friends or something, I think.”

“Huh. Yeah, that checks out with how it is around here. He flirts with your – Danny’s – mom a lot, and makes evil plots because he’s half-ghost and wants Danny as his half-ghost son or something.” Tucker shrugged, leaning his arms on the back of his seat. “It’s kind of messed up.”

“But that doesn’t make sense!” Danny flapped his hand, gesturing wildly. “Why am I human, countered by your Danny being half-ghost, if he gets to be half-ghost in both worlds? How does that make sense?!”

“I dunno, man. This sort of thing doesn’t have to make sense, you know?”

“But that’s so unfair!” Danny groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Why do I have to deal with this shit my whole damn life while he gets away just fine! So he’s not particularly powerful, at least he’s not bullied over it like I am!”

Tucker hummed. “He’s not… powerful? That’s weird. Vlad in his ghost form is among the most powerful ghosts we’ve encountered.”

“Great. So not only is my half-ghost counterpart here way stronger than normal halfas should be, Vlad gets to be all powerful too? So then what’s the damn difference?”

“Well, Vlad is pretty messed up,” Sam piped up from the front seat. “He suffered from ecto-acne after the accident in college, and he took years to get his powers, as opposed to Danny who got them pretty much instantly. Maybe that got mirrored in your universe into an accident that weakened him, but didn’t completely remove his powers?”

“But that suggests that I’ve been in an accident that made me lose my powers.” He looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. “But that has never happened. As far as I know I’ve never had powers. I wouldn’t even know what my ghost form looks like.”

“Now that is a question I can answer.” Tucker clicked around on his PDA a little, then held it out for Danny. “Here’s a photo of Danny Phantom for you. I dunno what you guys wear in your ghost forms, if they’re formed naturally, but this is what he looks like, at least.”

“Huh.” Danny took the PDA from Tucker’s hands, eyes roving over the screen. Pictures on there was indeed what he might expect from his own ghost form, bar the clothing. Messy white hair, a brilliant smile, and vivid green eyes. A good mid-point between his parents’ chartreuse and green, he supposed. But--

“Why is he wearing a jumpsuit?” he asked, handing it back to Tucker. “He isn’t following our parents’ style, is he?”

“No, no. That’s what he was wearing when he became half-ghost, only inverted.” Tucker glanced at the front seat, but Sam remained silent. Her hands were clenched around the steering wheel with such force that the knuckles turned white. “He, um. Sam kind of talked him into wearing it.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Well, um. Why doesn’t he change it, then? That’s what we do, normally, to make our clothes match our current style.”

Tucker shrugged, turning back around in his seat. “It makes him look superhero-y, I guess. He’s never complained about it, at least.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Danny glanced out of the front window, eyes roving over the expansive green landscape. “Hey, is that a castle?”

“Yup. The castle of Queen Dorathea.” The Speeder jerked as Sam slowed it down. “This is our destination for today. If she can’t help us, we’ll have to try somewhere else tomorrow.”

“Alright.” They landed, and he undid his seat belt. “So, uh. Is this one of those ghosts that knows other-me?”

“Yep,” Tucker confirmed, stretching himself out. “Just don’t piss her off and we’ll be alright. Sam can take point, right, Sam?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” She stood up, smoothly, and exited the vehicle. “As long as you two don’t behave like idiots, we’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, that’s a lot to ask of us, Sam.” Danny shot her a grin as he caught up. “I don’t think Tucker has spent a single moment in his life not being an idiot.”

“Oh, you’re one to speak!” The other caught up and shoved Danny, a fake offended expression on his face. “You’re-- Watch out!”

Tucker’s fingers wrapped around Danny’s wrist, barely preventing him from falling. He stared back, wide-eyed, half his chest and the other arm phased through a wall.

Sam grabbed hold as well, and the two of them pulled Danny back onto his feet.

“Sorry,” Tucker said, grin a little shaky. “I, uh, didn’t realize that you didn’t know you could phase through stuff in here.”

Danny just looked between him, the wall, and then him and Sam again. “Come again?”

“Humans are the ghosts in the Ghost Zone,” Sam explained, entering the castle proper now. “You can phase through stuff if you want. And, since I see the way you’re looking, yes, not wanting to hit something counts as wanting to phase through it.”

“Oh.” He glanced at his arm, then the wall. “Is that… what it is supposed to feel like? Intangibility?”

“Actually, I’m not too sure.” Tucker caught up as well. “I never asked Danny.”

“Seems like a missed opportunity.”

“Yeah, indeed.”

They paused before a large ghost, his empty red eyes peering at them over a humongous ax. Then the ghost nodded, minutely, and floated aside. “Sir Phantom. Our Queen can be found in the library.”

“Uh.” He shot Sam and Tucker a half-panicked glance, then looked back at the ghost. “Thank you?”

The ghost simply hummed. Eyes still wide, he sped past, Sam and Tucker rushing after him.

“Not used to seeing big ghosts like that?” Tucker smirked. “Or was the title getting to you?”

“A little bit of both.” He shot the other boy a glare. “Couldn’t you warn me about that? I thought you two said that I didn’t have any fans among the ghosts!”

“They’re not fans,” Sam explained patiently as they made their ways through the halls. Apparently the two of them knew where the library was, or they were better at pretending than him. “Dora really did knight Danny to thank him for services rendered.”

“That still would’ve been nice to know!” They entered a hallway with two enormous double doors at the end. “A title is still a big deal, you know!”

“Sorry, we kind of… forgot?” Tucker smiled sheepishly. “Danny doesn’t like them, so we tease him about them. I guess we didn’t realize that they could be a big deal to, well, you.”

“Alright, well--” he fell silent as both of his conversation partners walked through the giant wooden doors.

He made a face. Then, not wanting to come across like an idiot – or at least not more so that he already has – he focused on the earlier sensation of phasing through the wall, and walked forward.

Sam and Tucker stood on the other side of the doors. They weren’t alone. A girl, green skinned and red-eyed, with long braided blonde hair, floated in-between them.

“Ah, Sir Phantom,” she said cheerily once she caught sight of him. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Uh, yes, um. Right.” He shot a wide-eyed look at Sam, then Tucker, hoping that one of them would speak up. “It’s… nice to see you too, Queen Dora.”

“Oh, please.” She flapped a hand. “You know you can call me Dora.”

“Right…” He narrowed his eyes at Sam. Didn’t she tell him that she would take care of it? “I’ll… remember that, Dora.”

She smiled brightly, folding her hands together. “Now, what brings you three here today? Not a social call, I assume?”

“No, sorry,” Sam said, finally taking over. She turned towards Dora. “We ran into a magical necklace, and we think it might’ve been a ghost artifact, so we were hoping to find more information about it.”

“Ah.” She nodded, her brow slightly creased. “Well, what can you tell me about it?”

“For starters, it swapped out Danny with one from a different universe.” Tucker gestured over at him, and he stiffened under the new scrutiny of the ghost queen. “Or, well, technically he was the one who ran into it and swapped with our Danny.”

“Is that so?” Her eyes softened slightly, but lingered on him for a long time. “You are not my Sir Phantom? I’m sorry for the confusion, then.”

“Uh, yeah. Same.” He shrugged, his shoulders lifted high. “I didn’t want to trick you or whatever. I’m… just Danny. No Phantom, no ghost powers.”

“Hmm, really? Is this… Would you consider this a problem, a fault?”

He drew his shoulder up even higher. “Maybe… Why?”

“I think I might know which necklace you found, then.” She cocked her head, one finger tapping on her cheek. “I will look into it, if you wish. But it might take a while.”

“Just like that?” Tucker asked skeptically. “Based only on a body-swap?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Sir Foley, do you really think that that is a common attribute of necklaces?”

Danny laughed, startled. Tucker made a face, then nodded. “Yeah, alright, that’s fair.”

“Can you send a messenger if you know more?” Sam asked, apparently more focused that the rest of them together. “We can’t stay here for long, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She rightened herself, her hands folded together. “I’ll make haste, then.”

“Thank you, Dora.” Danny let some of the tension drain out of him, shooting her a grateful smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“It is my pleasure.” Her eyes lingered on him, like she knew something he didn’t.

“If you don’t hurry you’ll be late for school.” Jazz’s eyes on him were steady, unwavering.

He made a face back at her to cover for his slip-up. He’d forgotten to account for the fact that he had to walk to school, now. Most of the time he flew to school, and in all other cases he walked with Sam and Tucker. But he had slept in, and thus had missed his chance.

“I’m leaving already, jeez,” he said, grabbing a piece of toast. He wasn’t a fan of toast, but it was already done, and easy to eat while walking. “No need to rush me.”

“Just looking out for you, since you can’t fly.” She passed him by, ruffling his hair along the way. “Now go, or do you want me to fly you?”

“No thanks, I’ve got it.” He waved her a short goodbye, taking a bite of his toast. “See ya, Jazz!”

The door slammed shut behind him, blocking out any answer she might’ve given. Shouldering his backpack so it laid better on his back, he started walking towards school. He wasn’t late enough to call for running, but if he kept his pace a little faster than usual… well, no one around to comment, right?

“Hey man, I thought you didn’t like toast?”

Danny jerked to the side, then glared at the empty space on his right. “I don’t,” he confirmed for the apparently invisible Tucker, “But I was running late and this was the only thing I could grab.”

Tucker faded into visibility, bright purple eyes and white-rimmed glasses. “You’re running late? Seems like a perfectly good time to me.”

“That’s because you fly faster than I walk.” Danny took a bite of his toast, then dodged to the side as Tucker lunged at him. “That wasn’t an invitation to carry me, Tuck!”

“Alright, alright! No need to snap at me.” He raised his hands defensively. “Just wanted to help, man.”

“I don’t need help, I’m fine.” Another bite of dry toast. “Just need to walk a little faster than usual.”

The half-ghost version of his best friend hummed, then floated along, lying on his back. “Well, I guess I’ll fly along, then. Sure you don’t want a ride?”

“No, Tucker, I’m fine. Can’t go you bother Sam or something?”

“Bother who?” Sam floated in front of him, blocking his path, her arms crossed. Her white ponytail flared like fire, and her cyan eyes sparked dangerously.

Rather than answer, Danny shoved the rest of the slice of toast into his mouth. Smooth, Fenton.

Apparently Sam thought so too, because she huffed out a laugh and floated aside. “Yeah, I see how it is. Get going before you’re late.”

Danny nodded, speeding up his walk even further than before. Still not a run, though. Tucker and Sam now both floated along, one on each side.

Man, that really was annoying. Maybe he should stop doing that to his own Sam and Tucker, back home.

“He didn’t want me to fly him, and apparently I was being annoying about it,” Tucker explained to Sam, still lying flat on his back. “Snapped at me and everything!”

“I didn’t snap at you.” Danny swatted at the floating boy, not surprised when the other simply turned intangible to avoid it. “I just told you that I didn’t want to be carried.”

“You’re not gonna be late again, are you?” Sam asked, some concern in her voice. “Lancer’ll kill you if you follow up your day away by being late again.”

“It’ll be fine if I keep up this pace.” He rolled his eyes at her, quietly wondering how often this Danny was late, and why. It’s not like he had ghosts to fight or anything!

“Just saying. You saw how pissed he was when we were late two days ago.” She stretched, lounging comfortably in mid-air. “And you know what he’s like towards you.”

He didn’t, but he was starting to get an idea of it. “Yeah,” he told her, speeding up just a little more, just in case. “But it’ll be fine, Sam, no worries.”

Before long the school appeared in sight, and he rushed through the doors and into packed halls. He dodged through the mass, ignoring the fact that some of its members were ghosts – or at least in their ghost forms – and praying that his locker and combination were the same in this universe. His ghost sense crawled from his core and into his lungs, but it stayed weak enough to remain unnoticed. No mist crawled out from his mouth – or his nose.

He stopped before his locker, starting to twist its lock quickly, lest he lose focus. Thankfully it unlocked quickly, and he bit down the cheer at things going well for once. Just as he was looking over the books and trying to remember what class he had, Sam appeared by his side, English books in her arms.

“Come on, grab your books and get going. If you’re early you might just give Lancer a heart-attack.”

“Right,” he said, taking the appropriate books out of his locker. Huh. Looked like they were reading a different book in this universe. He slammed the locker closed just as the first bell rung. “Let’s get going, then.”

She nodded, landing softly on the floor as white light washed over her. Now in her human form, looking like she normally did, she led him towards the classroom. He caught sight of more people transforming in the hallways. Must be a rule against ghost forms during class, which, actually, kind of made sense.

They reached Lancer’s classroom without too much trouble, and Sam walked in and to her usual seat without issue. When Danny tried to do the same, his core pulsed more strongly, and blue mist blew out of his mouth. He stilled, but no one seemed to have noticed.

Stepping inside, he saw what had triggered the proper ghost sense; Mr. Lancer sat behind his desk, his goatee and eyebrows white and his irises bright red. As a full-grown half-ghost, he must be powerful enough to set off his ghost sense.

“Mr. Fenton,” Lancer drawled, “How nice of you to join us again. And on time, for once? Color me surprised.”

Danny shrugged, unsure of what he was supposed to say.

“Well, go on and take your seat then.” Mr. Lancer waved a hand towards the desks. “Don’t get in the way, now.”

He huffed, but did as asked. Just blend in, Danny. Don’t draw unnecessary attention. Find out why you’re here and go home.

Slumping into a seat, he set his books down. He wasn’t sure how the lessons would go, but surely there couldn’t be that much difference between this universe and his own?

He opened his locker, then stuck his head inside and just groaned.

“You alright there, dude?” Tucker asked, stepping up next to him. “You’ve been weird today.”

“’m fine,” he mumbled back, not removing his head. It wasn’t like he could tell the guy that he was actually from a different universe and only now realizing how crazy this one was. The fact that everyone was half-ghost apparently wasn’t the end of the differences. Stunning. “Just… haven’t quite recovered from the accident two days ago.”

“Is that why you took a day off yesterday?” Sam leaned against the lockers on his other side, clearly curious. “No one wanted to tell us why you didn’t show up. Started to wonder if you hadn’t gotten jumped and killed or something.”

“Do you really have to be so morbid?” Tucker leaned back so he could shoot her an unamused glare past Danny, his eyes flickering purple briefly.

Danny pulled back his head, flapping a hand to stop them from squabbling. Some things never changed, he supposed. “Tucker, let her be, she’s just being goth. And yeah, had an accident in my parents’ lab, and Mom didn’t want me to come to school.”

Sam smirked at Tucker, clearly thrilled that Danny had taken her side. Tucker just stuck out his tongue in retaliation.

Rolling his eyes at their antics, Danny started putting away his stuff, letting his thoughts wander. This universe was absolutely madness. The only good thing he could think of was that, with his parents as human hunters instead of ghost hunters, ecto-contaminated food seemed to be far less common. Kind of weird, actually, considering that now everyone was half-ghost and wouldn’t die of ectoplasm poisoning if they did eat it, but hey, whatever. He never liked the taste of it anyway, and it had no benefits for healthy half-ghosts like him anyway.

Blending in was actually surprisingly tough. He had thought that it wouldn’t be all that different from usual, pretending to be powerless and a normal human. But here, that made him stand out, made him a target. And honestly? He really didn’t like that.

The bullying wasn’t limited to just Dash and his cronies. Pretty much the entire student body avoided him, like touching him would drain their own powers. Everyone bit insults at him, even the teachers! Like being human was bad, was lesser.

It was a stark contrast to his normal life, where he was constantly hiding and afraid because he wasn’t human. Because ghosts were lesser, were dangerous manifestations that didn’t deserve to exist.

He sighed, then zipped up his backpack. Sam and Tucker both shot him worried looks, but he ignored them.

Really, the only good thing was that these half-ghosts seemed to grow in strength with time. The students were all too weak to really trigger his ghost sense, and hiding it from the teachers wasn’t too hard.

“Ready to head home, Danny?”

“Yeah.” He nodded at Sam, clicking his locker closed. “Let’s get going. I’ve got tons of homework I need to get working on.”

“At least you don’t have detention again,” she said, her voice cheery like it was a good thing. Ah, another one of those things that hadn’t changed. Back home he got detention for being half-ghost, and here he got it because he wasn’t half-ghost. “So you’ve got that going for you.”

“Woo hoo. Lucky me.” He pushed through the doors of the school, ignoring the flash of light that preluded Tucker rejoining him in his ghost form.

“Man, Danny, you’re being almost as depressing as Sam,” the now-floating Tucker commented. “Cheer up.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Eh, good enough for me.” Tucker shrugged, then darted a glance at his watch. “Hey, I gotta get going. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” They waved him goodbye, and Tucker shot off like a rocket. Man, he didn’t realize he could miss flying so much.

“So, uh…”

Danny shook his head, turning to face Sam. “You have to get going too? It’s fine, Sam, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, alright.” She grinned, shifting to her ghost form as well. “See you tomorrow, Danny.”

He watched her go, then heaved another sigh. A whole school day had passed, and he still didn’t know why he was here. Clockwork might be fond of vagueness, but at least he usually gave some clue to what was going on. But he couldn’t dive into the Ghost Zone to find out more, either. He had no one to cover for him, and people would surely connect his ghost form with the normal Danny Fenton.

Still encompassed with these thoughts, he walked into the Fenton household without thinking. The moment he stepped inside, thick blue smoke wafted from his mouth.

And, startled, his wide blue eyes met three pairs of eyes looking back at him.

[whereisthefood123]

Two words mightier than iron

Setting: Alvarez arc, before the battle against Bloodman, the chapter/episode of "you're under arrest for complaining too much"

Words: 1.8k

Prompt Lovefest19: Day 2- Kiss me

A/N: It's been a while guys! As usual, I'm late for the event lol! This is for day 2 of Gajevy Lovefest 2019 - “kiss me” @gajevyevents. Thank you so much to @ranunculusfox for beta reading this :D Hope you guys enjoy this little thing I wrote! SFW even if it's for lovefest :)

AO3 // FFNET

"Kiss me"

It's a whisper and a clamour. It's a plea and a command. It's everything he wanted to hear and yet Gajeel's world is turned upside down by her words.

Figures. Words have always been her power, her domain, her weapon.

Yet, she doesn't wield them to strike Gajeel down, but he's still close to collapsing on his knees in front of her. Her words are always kind but powerful enough to bring down his iron walls, the ones he had carefully crafted around his heart.

Stay away. His walls had proclaimed a long time ago in cast-iron forged with the fire of his hate and cruelty.

But with each flick of her eyelashes that revealed bright hazel eyes, a new crack appeared on his walls. By the time they were on Tenrou Island, his walls were all but non-existent, yet he still believed he had them. Gajeel needed to believe it, he had survived within these walls; a dragon without a castle is a beast without a purpose. What was the dragonslayer without his barriers but a simple man with nothing to offer but iron fists and roars to the most amazing woman in the world?

Time passed since Tenrou, and he found himself sharing a living space with Levy and Lily in the Council's Headquarters. New walls rose around his heart, taller, mightier, sturdier than before. Instead of hate and cruelty, these new barriers were built from self-hatred and insecurities. She was too good for him, and he was a bastard that didn't deserve the love she was offering him so willingly. Besides, he reasoned, it had everything to do with her angelic nature and not with him; it couldn't be that she loved him. She was someone always willing to love everything. She loved every book, every fictional character she met in the lines of ink and paper, she trusted every stranger on the street and believed the world could be a kind place where anyone would enjoy the simplest things life had to offer, like a cup of coffee shared among friends, or the smell of the early blossoms in spring.

Gajeel loved her for this; he loves her for this. She was so simple and yet so amazingly complicated at the same time. A puzzle his mind and heart were still trying to decipher after all this time, and he enjoyed every single new detail he learned about her. Like how she is not a morning person, or how her smile widens when the early stars shine in the night sky; how her eyes light with something fiercer than the breaths of the fire dragons, or how her soul rejoices when a mission is completed with no major injuries involved.

She was everything he had ever wished for in a life partner yet she was also everything he had never thought he needed. He hated himself for loving her so much and his self-hatred only grew when he was reminded of how they've met. But the simplest things like one of her smiles thrown his way or the blush that tinted her cheeks when he was a bit too close to her, made him believe that maybe he was worth it. That maybe this, whatever it was, was right. That he could spend his life by her side, no labels attached, even when he was oh so willing to go down on one knee and offer her the world, a promise forged in an iron ring. He would be content to be by her side as long as she would let him.

But now, with the war against Alvarez looming over them and the battlefield so close to their campsite, Gajeel felt true fear for the first time in his life. Not even when Metalicana left had he lost his sleep like he did this night. Nightmares were familiar to the mage who wallowed in self-hatred since the Fairy Tail emblem was tattooed on his left shoulder. But this night, he couldn't even close his eyes without seeing the image of a blue-haired fairy lying face down unmoving on a flower field covered by snow and her blood staining deeply into the white layer turning it crimson.

He had sought some comfort in looking at the horizon, making sure no enemy would ambush them as the rest of the team slept snuggled close to the small bonfire to chase away the chill of the night. But he had sensed how restless she was since the moment their journey to the North began. It was no surprise when her shuffling steps came closer to him, the snow crunched under her light feet.

What surprised him were her words. Not that it was something uncommon, yet this time, her words lacked the usual breath of kindness and fierceness laced between each letter. Instead, insecurities traced the shape of her words, faintly reminding him of the essence that strengthens his iron walls. She worried about the battle and feared she wouldn't be strong enough to deal with this enemy. Gajeel could still hear her conviction underneath her self-doubt. She wouldn't back down from the fight, even when she thought the enemy to be extraordinary; she would go all out to protect her guild, her friends, her family.

That's what terrified Gajeel the most. The image of the blue-haired fairy on the flower field covered by crimson snow came back to his mind and he shivered.

Not a chance. He wouldn't let that happen. He would protect her; they would come out victorious from this battle. Fairy Tail would prevail so the iron dragonslayer could spend his afternoons at every bookshop in Magnolia accompanying a short blue-haired fairy in search for the latest novels she craved for so much.

He doesn't really know how to convey this though. Words were always her thing, not his. So, he let his magic flow, and it forms the iron pillars that now surround her. But she isn't afraid, maybe annoyed, but not fearful, not from him, not anymore since that day he took Laxus's lightning strike on her behalf. He leans close to her, maybe too close for someone who swears to be content with just spending time with this tiny fairy, with just being friends with her. Then, he makes a promise, hidden among his weird threats of imprisonment.

Thanks to any deity above she gets it, she deciphers the hidden message as easily as she has decoded ancient tomes. Then, she smiles at him, soft lips tilting up and eyes shining impossibly bright and it's all for him. With no one else around, he takes his time to commit to memory every single detail of her ethereal features. His hands twitch, yearning to hold her, to embrace her so carefully, to get tangled in her soft blue waves and rub gentle circles on her back.

As he's willing his hands to still and his mind to lock away his fantasies, she utters two words and his world turns on its axis as if the ground had exploded under his feet.

"Kiss me," Levy's soft voice commands him. She takes a step forward. He can almost feel her warmth so close to his body.

He notices it, of course, he notices it! How her eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and linger there, longing, yearning for something that could be but requires an enormous amount of courage to reach for it.

Gajeel always prided himself of his strong walls and iron hide. But two words, two words from the fairy that could will any letter to life with a flick of her fingers, had his barriers vanishing. They didn't crumble as Gajeel had expected. No, if they had crumbled to dust it would have been devastating, he would have felt vulnerable, exposed, raw to the world to mock the simple man that hid behind these walls. Instead, her words lifted his walls, they went up in light specs willingly and beautifully until they mixed with the stars above and shone in the galaxies hidden in her hazel eyes. His iron walls had kept the entire world at arms' length, Levy included. But the tender breath infused in her words made him see, for the first time, the path that lay ahead of him, where Levy stood with an extended hand for him to take and a gentle smile on her lips. There was no destruction, no havoc, no despair, there was only peace as his barriers lifted, as the blindfold tied securely around his heart was undone and he could finally see the eyes that shone a bit brighter only when they looked at him.

There is no hesitation when he dissipates the distance between them and leans even closer to her. With their breaths mingling together, he waits for a baited second, searching her eyes for the smallest trace of hesitation.

He finds none.

His lips seal over hers in a gentle caress, while his hands find their purchase at the back of her head and the small of her back. He breathes her in and everything, for once, feels right in Gajeel's life. Everything falls in place. A second that feels like an eternity yet too short for him makes him forget their beginning, his mistakes, his hatred and cruelty, his self-loathing and insecurities, the war looming over them threatening their future. Everything feels right just by holding Levy in his arms and kissing her soft lips with such tenderness that even Gajeel doubted himself capable of.

When their lips part, he looks at her with half-lidded eyes, begging to anyone, anything, that this is real and not just another clever hoax created by his mind. Because he had dreamt about this a thousand times if not more. But never, in all those scenarios, had his mind been able to portray the utter joy that radiates from her smile in this moment. She is beautiful, so full of love, of light, of kindness and oh so willing to share it with Gajeel.

He is such a lucky bastard.

Then, he notices something else. Just a quick flick of his eyes to her lips and he sees it. The promise he's made, sealed on her lips. A promise for a future together, for a family, for happiness.

He cannot hide the smirk that tugs at his lips. She is a cunning little fairy, a renowned script mage across all Fiore. She knows the power of words. And she also knows a kiss to be stronger than words thrown to the wind. No war, no enemy, no disaster would be able to keep Gajeel from tasting his fairy's lips one more time, in a peaceful moment, in the comfort of their shared home, in the quiet of the night.

I love you, Levy.

He lacks the courage, or the ability, or maybe both, to utter the words. But by any divine being that is looking after them, Levy understands him. Words were her prowess and she had learned long ago how to read Gajeel like an open book, her most favourite book.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy this :) leave a comment/reblog if you did! I'll try my best to write more often now that I have a least chaotic semester haha

WTF (Where's The Food?)

[ameftowriter]

5738 A.D. 4,1 (UPDATED) (Dr. Stone fanfic)

From here: https://ameftowriter.tumblr.com/post/188742703889/5738-ad-41-dr-stone-fanfic

This is the updated version of the fic above. After watching Episode 22 I had to change this a bit and edited it better to make sure it flowed smoothly. Also I may plan on putting more chapters but I’ll have to see to that later.

Anyway, I love Episode 22 so much and it touched my heart so! I have two more fics incoming that I posted along with this, so that will be incoming soon.

Ao3 | ffnet

Part 1 (This!) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ???

Gen still has a hard time taking everything in. Was it really the year 5739? The mentalist just couldn’t wrap his head around it. On top of it all, those statues. So many statues.

They were people, turned to stone.

He realized that something terrible has happened and it affected every human being on earth.

He was affected too, considering the position he woke up from. The last thing he remembered was that he had just finished his act. Hearing the cheers and applause from a delighted audience, that's when everything went dark.

And the next thing he knew was a bright light, and faced an open ocean.

He wondered if this was a prank, he’s seen a lot of celebrity prank shows, to be a victim of that disgusted him. He was a mentalist, being subjected to a prank like this defies his very image. He grumbled at the thought of it as he stood up from his position.

That is until he heard a deep commanding voice from the background.

“Welcome to the year 5739 AD”

He felt cold sweat drip off his currently naked body. He turned to recognize the man who broke him out of the dark stone prison. It was Shishio Tsukasa… the strongest primate high schooler.

He heard him say something about making a choice. That him and those statues behind him were selectively chosen for his new world…

Gen looked up and just could not believe what he saw...

He was then given some clothes to wear, made by their resident tailor named Yuzuriha. He didn’t know who she was, but was grateful for her.

It was… clothes he supposes. It was a tunic of sorts that reached up to his knees. Made of animal skin. He wanted to ask for a T-Shirt and Jeans. Then again… if it really was year 5739, and everyone was petrified…

He nearly stumbled on a statue lying around. He gained back his footing and turned to see what tripped him. His eyes widened to see that it was his manager.

Memories of the man flooded his head. When he first started, he would try to use him, booking his shows back to back, expecting him to nearly give up his own education, family life, and his private life for his acts.  He tried to milk so much money from him, Gen was sure it was borderline illegal. But eventually, he found a weakness to the man and he became an easy target for Gen’s manipulation. Sometimes he used him as a guinea pig for any new acts he had thought of. He nearly had him prance around the streets naked once as a form of revenge.

But if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have become this popular and famous…

He wouldn’t have had the money to…

Tsukasa shattered the manager’s head beneath his feet.

Gen nearly jumped back at the sudden destruction in front of him.

“I apologize for startling you.” Tsukasa spoke up, “I remember this man once, he was your manager yes?”

Gen could only nod.

“He tried to charm me to having you and I do more shows together, he treated us as if were freaks in a carnival. I simply cannot stand adults like that…”

It didn’t take a mentalist to know that every word he spoke dripped of hatred and loathing. Gen looked at the remains of the destroyed statue, and felt his stomach churn.

He hated his manager yes, but…

For someone to just mercilessly destroy that…

They had arrived at the Empire of Might as Tsukasa had called it. Gen could only look at it with awe as he saw various forms of treehouses and caves formed from the mountain. But most of all, he saw that almost every man and even women around him were muscular and looked like they would be able to carry him like he was a feather.

Then Gen met the said tailor, Yuzuriha, and the big oaf that he was pretty sure was her boyfriend, Taiju.

They were friendly and chipper. Gen was surprised to see this. After all it's been about 4000 years and everything around them is gone. For them to act this way.

Well… he wouldn't verbalize it without any sort of evidence. But to him it seemed to be just an act.

He wondered why.

Gen thanked her for the clothes. But wonders if he could ask her for something more… sophisticated. Something that suits his style.

Tsukasa agreed, he saw Gen as a valuable member of the Empire, but he also needed him for a mission.

Yuzuriha agreed to do it without any questions asked.

Gen missed paper and pencil or any kind of writing instruments. But it seemed that the girl understood his directions nonetheless.

Now, he’s curious as to why they're acting this way.

While they waited for his new outfit, Tsukasa then began explaining to him his goals. Goals of creating a new and better world without the adults who tainted it. Gen listened to him intently, and felt himself get pulled into Tsukasa’s ideals. He knew what he meant and fully understood his words and reasonings. After all, he made a living using and exploiting the naivete and idiocy of the adults that ruled the earth. He knew and understood the pain and suffering Tsukasa has mentioned. He had experienced it himself as young as he was. And yet the scene of his manager being crushed underneath Tsukasa’s feet kept playing over and over his head….

Sometimes Gen wondered if that's what kept him from being swayed by Tsukasa's words…

But at this moment he was afraid. Very afraid for his life. He was reborn into this "Stone World" and was spared from a fate worse than death. To even show any resistance to Tsukasa or any of his people would equal his untimely demise.

So he as it was many years ago, put on his mask and showed his agreement to the man's ideals and goals. Even showed support and gave suggestions on who to pick and revive. The mentalist was a master of weaving words into the most believable of sentences, right down to the inflection of his syllables.

Tsukasa was pleased. And that was good enough for him.

That night, Gen just could not sleep. He tossed and turned endlessly as he made the effort to close his eyes and forced his body to sleep. He thought of everything he could remember on how to go to sleep, but that failed him too.

It was strange to him. He remembered during his performance that he was so exhausted that he could collapse the moment he let his body relax. Yet when Tsukasa broke him out of the stone prison that he felt so energized that he could run a marathon and not feel winded. And he certainly still feels that way. He wonders if being asleep for so long had made him catch up to his lost sleep. All nineteen years worth of it.

Well, he did the math and technically he is now 3739 years old…

If there was any kind of sleepiness in him at that moment, Gen had completely lost it.

3720 years…  is a really, really long time…

Yuzuriha finished his new outfit the next day, he was very grateful for her. Especially after hearing the fact that she spent all night with it. Gen felt a bit bad for her, until he heard her voice crack just a little…

Gen did not have supersonic hearing, but as a mentalist, he taught himself to pay attention to people’s subtle noises. He wondered if Yuzuriha was lying to him.

He tried the new outfit on, and it fits him just right. He was definitely impressed with her.

Later, Tsukasa began explaining to him about a certain “miracle fluid” that had broken him out of the petrified state. And that it was located in a special cave. Which was also dubbed, Cave of Miracles.

A miracle fluid that undid the petrification? He couldn't believe that it was even possible. That peaked his interest, not that he would show it.

As Tsukasa brought him to a cave and along a few other muscular men with him. It seemed that he wanted to show respect to nature's bounty and sorts. It was something that lost his interest, and it fell into deaf ears. Thanks to that distraction though, Gen had tripped over a giant root, but he quickly gained footing and held himself against a tree near the cave. He brushed his fingers against a tree without realizing it.

He felt something odd.

He knew tree bark was rough and could hurt depending on the tree, but even so, this sensation felt weird to him. To him it was like… like… Something was engraved into the tree.

He moved his hand away and saw a carving into the tree he held on.

A.D. 5738 4, 1

“Fifty-seven, thirty-eight… Four, One…” Gen read the engraving. “5738, 4, 1…”

It was like everything he had known right now had changed.

His thoughts came back to when Tsukasa told him the current year. He wondered so many things that day, that even today he was still trying to take it all in. He wondered how… how would Tsukasa be able to determine the current year. From what he saw of the strongest primate high schooler, he was more than just a muscleheaded idiot. He had strength, he had skill, he had smarts.

But even so that did not give him a proper answer as to how and why he knew the current date.

Does Tsukasa even know this engraving?!

Was it even really the year 5739?

But this engraving shows it. 5738… It’s been a year since the engraving was written in the tree. April 1st… How did the writer knew of the exact date even…

“5738… April 1st…” Gen repeated himself, “H-How…. How did… How could someone…?”

“No…” Gen gathered his thoughts, “Someone… someone must have carved this after breaking out… They had to. But… How would… would they know the exact date…”

“Is it even possible…?!”

He read again the crude kanji and the numbers written on the tree. It was clearly there. It wasn't some sort of hallucination… It was actually written there…

The mentalist's heart swelled with hope.

“This… this is…” Gen shuddered in excitement at the realization of someone like that ever existed, and broke out first, and to do this, “This is too antastic-fay! Whoever did this… Must be…”

Then his thoughts were interrupted by Tsukasa calling him to the cave.

Gen quickly dashed inside. To see Tsukasa standing in front of a pile of… bat guano. Gen’s nose scrunched up at the awful smell and saw yellow liquid dripping down from the cave’s ceiling, to a clay bowl.

He quickly deduced it as a so called “miracle fluid” that Tsukasa had mentioned. But when he read Tsukasa’s expression and listened to his voice, he felt there was more… than just that fluid…

That night, he couldn’t stop thinking about that engraving.

5738 A.D. April 1.

He wondered who could even do that. In that darkness. For almost 4000 years, calculated the year, month and date. The exact date?! He wondered why would the person even bother to calculate. When normally you'd think of surviving first.

He thought of possibilities. He knew you can tell how old a tree is by cutting it and counting the number of rings… But that would have been a gigantic tree. He considered the number of natural disasters that could have destroyed it way before the next millenia… So he scratched out that idea. He thought maybe some sort of machine that could tell the time had survived, but he hasn’t seen a sign of any kind of civilization, let alone a machine that could tell the time. His thoughts wandered of any kind of sci-fi theory he’s seen. But just like before, he saw nothing…

Nothing from the year 2019.

Gen curled up onto his sheets. It has hit him again, the realization that there was nothing left from the year he knew. No buildings, no cars… no cola even…

He felt the sudden urge for a bottle.

As he realized he couldn’t sleep once again, he stepped outside of his living quarters and saw the stars in the sky. It was numerous, more than he could ever count.

Count…

That's when he thought of something… a completely ar-fetched-fay possibility...

Yes, there was no machine or anything that could tell the time, but the fact remained that time still moved forward, no matter what…

It was something insane. Something that no human being should be able to do, but it was possible…

He had heard rumours of a kid who counted the exact seconds within a month, and he had counted it exactly.

“To count the passing seconds…” Gen thought to himself, “To do that during all that time in the darkness…”

Many feelings he suddenly felt for this mystery counter. Excitement, pity, delight, fear... In order to do that, he would have had to remain conscious all that time… Gen eventually felt nothing and his mind went completely blank after a while. When Tsukasa revived him, he thought everything before was just a dream… a long 3720 year dream…

Gen gritted his teeth, he was nervous, he was scared, he was so lost in this new world, but to even think that there was a person like that, a human being that could do such a thing...

He had to find them… he had to find the person who could have done this feat… He had to know. He had to know this person. He had to pick him apart and understand his own way of thinking. He had to analyze everything about him. He had to know how and why would he do such a ridiculous yet logical thing.

He hadn't felt this eager in knowing a person he hasn't even met.

The rest of that night spent thinking about this person. He smiled at the thought of someone else being this unique.

It was like… to him it was like getting excited over a book he had heard only good reviews about.

Yes, he was skeptical, but the thought of someone like this.

It got him excited.

The next day, the third day, Tsukasa called for him after his meal.

He was called to be given a mission…

“Those dusty old fossils who used to be in power…” Tsukasa began as he led Gen to a path in the forest, it was a bit further from the Empire, “Are even less necessary in this natural world of stone…”

Gen didn’t hear a hint of hesitation from those words. In fact to him Tsukasa spoke of his ideals in such great confidence and conviction, that the mentalist felt a bit swayed by those. Especially when he said…

“But I see a massive amount of potential in you… Gen.”

Gen felt himself snap out of that trance. He knew Tsukasa had a lot of natural charisma, but even he as a master of minds, felt like he was grabbed instantly and quickly, as if he got there by himself. He cursed himself mentally, as he remembered how Tsukasa crushed the statue of his manager, again. And all of the other pieces of statues he has seen scattered everywhere, crushed with his bare hands or by his men.

“There’s something I need you for…” Gen’s attention was grabbed again as Tsukasa cleared some branches to reveal a treehouse, made by… concrete? He wondered. “And your skills as a mentalist will be invaluable…”

Gen saw on the side a few empty jars, crude makeshift spears… he was surprised that even the ladder that leads up to the treehouse was still sturdy. To him it looked like it was all abandoned.

But that wasn't where they went, rather, Tsukasa led him to a hut near the tree house. It had a worn out sign that said, “Laboratory”.

Tsukasa led him inside and the mentalist saw broken clay pots everywhere. He watched his step, as he moved in closer to see more and more broken pieces scattered everywhere. To him it was an obvious sign that whoever lived here scrambled to take everything and left. To the untrained eye that is.

Gen saw this was too intentional. It was too much of a mess for him. He thought maybe a scuffle, but that would have caused those shelves to fall apart. To him, it is as if the previous occupants just intentionally took those jars and smashed them.

“Follow them for me.” Tsukasa gave him his mission, as it also confirms Gen's deductions. “And get inside of their minds… Perhaps I'm being overly cautious, but I want you to track down this man Senku and tell me if he’s dead or hiding out somewhere…”

Senku…

That is the name of the person he was tasked to look for.

‘Senku…’ Gen thought to himself. He tried to think of anyone he knew by that name, none came to mind.

So he asked, “Who is Senku?”

“He, was the first of us to revive…” Tsukasa replied.

‘First? Don’t tell me…’

“He used his knowledge of science to create a formula to undo the petrification.” he continued as Gen took in this invaluable information, “That’s how he revived me…”

Gen couldn’t hide his surprise anymore.

‘This Senku person… revived Tsukasa? He created a formula to undo the petrification?’ The pieces started to fall into place...

“This man…” Tsukasa continued as Gen felt the man’s voice grew bitter, “His only desire is to revive everyone, no matter who they were…”

‘What? He… what? He wants to revive… everyone…?!'

“He’ll bring back the same people who ruined our world.... And they’ll make weapons…” Gen felt every word laced with pure hatred, as he still tried to take in everything.

“He was the most intelligent man alive, and that’s why I killed him myself…”

He saw Tsukasa’s eyes narrowed as he finished his sentence.

'He killed him…' Gen held back even his own expressions, 'He killed this Senku…'

When he first met Tsukasa in this new world, he was kind, considerate, gentle to everyone in the Empire and even to the animals. He would ensure that every part of every animal killed was put to use, even the organs. For Gen to hear him say that. For Tsukasa to kill another human being… he got even more scared of him.

Gen started to doubt himself. He wondered if there really was someone who could take down the Strongest Primate High Schooler. To kill the "smartest" man alive, as he called this Senku.

But even so, the fact that Tsukasa had to send him, a mentalist… to make sure that Senku is alive.

There was no doubt. Senku is alive.

He finally understood what he had to do.

Gen enjoyed it. He enjoyed experimenting and toying with the human mind and the limitless possibilities of the human psyche. He mostly used it for his own benefit and gain, but that's what the world, the previous world, taught him. To him adults were easy picking, even more so than teenagers and children. He knew as one grows older, the ideals and beliefs, and biases a person has learned will stick longer and thus harder to change or remove. Gen knew of this and exploited it to his heart's content. So it was child's play for him to figure out what had occured in this laboratory.

He asked Tsukasa if he could stay a bit more to inspect the area. The man let him, and asked if he knew the way back.

Gen knew the way back.

When he realized that he was finally alone, he quickly observed the area. He looked at the pieces of the broken jars, the stains on the floor and at the walls, he saw the various broken tools nearby. He then rushed into the tree house and saw the same mess as the lab. Gen saw this as a laughable way to make it look like they got scared and escaped.

Smartest man alive? More like the world's worst crook if he had ever seen one.

He remembered Tsukasa’s expressions, the hatred in his words and the shakiness of it. That was also obvious. Tsukasa was scared. Very scared. He only knew of Tsukasa as a fearless man who would stare down other fighters bigger and stronger than he was, and took them down easily. For someone to induce such paranoia and fear in him...

He has to know. He has to know who this Senku person is.

He just has to!

After gathering what he can from the area, he went back to the Empire. He gave Tsukasa what he could deduce from it, and said that he and his companions that he too figured this out from the tracks, that they probably dashed at around southeast to where the Empire was.

Tsukasa was impressed by him. He mentioned that the two companions were Taiju and Yuzuriha.

Gen faked a shock, well to everyone it looked like a real shock. He knew some of the bigger and heavier footsteps belonged to a heavyweight like Taiju, and smaller, lighter footsteps belonged to a woman, Yuzuriha fits that description.

Tsukasa explained to him that they returned after he had subsequently killed Senku and buried him in that direction. Gen was right it was southeast to where they were, Hakone (or it would have used to be considering the lack of any buildings).

He also mentioned that they were Senku's best friends.

That's what stood out the most.

Gen wondered to himself as to why they were kept under surveillance. Now it made sense, Tsukasa was worried that they might turn on him eventually. Even with the power difference, there was an instilled fear that Senku would come back for them and have a scientific weapon that could be used to defeat him.

That's what the mentalist deduced at least.

So Taiju and Yuzuriha were… no are Senku's friends. He filed that important tidbit for later.

Tsukasa had given him information that was more valuable than even he thought.

He was also told of a blond haired, blue eyed girl that seemed to have no knowledge of science and had a very primitive way of thinking. He was (truly this time) shocked to hear that there is a possibility of a village of primitives in that area, and that Senku might have made contact with them if that was the case. So now he had a destination in mind.

Hakone. Around a two day walk from where they were now. Gen didn't particularly like the idea of walking so far and so long, but his desire to meet this Senku was what pushed him further.

Before he left, he asked Yuzuriha for some extra materials and a cutting tool. Part of him wanted to tell them that he was going to see Senku, just to gauge their reactions. He knew if they didn't react to what he expected it, then it was truly confirmed that Senku is alive.

But he held his tongue on that. He didn't want to risk then getting caught on this mess.

Gen himself haven't really decided on if this Senku really is the person he was looking for. If he was the mystery counter. All he knew was that, he was a threat to Tsukasa's ideal world.

The smartest man alive vs the strongest man alive.

A typical brain vs brawn...

His journey was long and painful, especially since he didn’t wear any shoes. Along the way he picked up many nightshade flowers and stored them into various hidden sacks underneath his clothes. He even found many berries and even some small animals he could use to make fake blood bags for his own protection, just in case everything went downhill for him. He knew when to expect the worst. After all, he made a living from expecting the worst in people and exploiting it.

His journey took way longer than two days. He was exhausted, yes, but every step further was one step closer to meeting this Senku. He thought it was worth it.

From what he knew about the positions of his shadows, he had deduced it was around noon. He walked further and further through the forest, and that's when he heard something, music. He heard music playing nearby, he walked closer to the source, and saw it, clear as day. A village, built on two small peninsulas connected by a bridge.

It was the primitive village that Tsukasa told him about. There were primitives living in this area.

And in front of it was…

Well to his surprise. It was a ramen stand.

Gen approached the stand closer then was quickly given a bowl of said ramen by a child wearing a melon mask over her head. He thought it was kind of cute.

He felt a pang of hunger as he took a whiff of the bowl on his hands. It was a crude version of ramen that he knew, but well, he supposed it was still ramen. So he took a bite.

Gen nearly gagged from the taste.

He remained very quiet despite the complete awfulness the dish had. He couldn’t even call this ramen. He heard this was foxtail millet ramen.

Once again he nearly gagged at the thought of foxtail. Foxtail, was what the noodles were made out of. He could feel the grainy texture and the bitter aftertaste of the ramen.

It was ositive-pay awful!

But he heard nothing but praises for this dish. Gen peered to see other people wearing similar clothes like the one the melon girl wore. It looked like they were almost inhaling the ramen. It was a complete consensus that it was the best thing they've ever had.

That's one other thing that hits Gen.

He sighs and misses something way more than ramen right now.

One of them quickly asked for seconds and Gen sighed and realized with the stereotypical glutton man. He supposed that in any kind of era there's always a glutton.

Then his attention quickly changed when he saw the man at the stand itself, putting the ramen together.

His hair stood out the most, literally. Even at the year 2019, he would have easily stood out. He wondered if it's dyed or if he used any hair products. Almost every bit of his hair stood upwards defying gravity. To Gen he looked like a walking giant leek or bok choy. Then when he turned sideways, that's when Gen finally saw his face. He looked sweaty and tired, but his face is full of eagerness and pride, that admittingly seemed contagious. The most noticeable features were the two jagged scars that lined and bent up from his forehead down to this eye line and just below the eyelid. The Mentalist instinctively touched his own scar.

He remembered the explanation Tsukasa gave him. That these scars are just a side effect of the depetrification process.

Gen remembered the day when he saw his reflection at the river and saw the scar running underneath his left eyelid, where it turned to shape his mouth then went straight down his chain and his neck. To him this was a reminder that he was petrified and awakened. Which meant, this man was…

“Are you the man who made this incredible food?” He heard a young girl approach the man with such eagerness and obvious intent of flirting, “the one called, Senku?”

Senku…

This green haired, prideful, obviously exhausted guy...

Is Senku?

Gen tried hard to cover his laughter. This was the man that Tsukasa, the strongest primate high school, was scared about? He looked physically weak. Everything about him was so lanky and skinny. It completed the giant walking vegetable set. Big green leaves and a nimble easily breakable stem.

He was….

'This was the man who wrote that date on the tree isn't it?'

He saw a familiar equation written on Senku’s outfit.

E=mc2

'Yeah… definitely the science nerd around here.' Gen chuckled internally, 'Who the hell writes that on their own clothes?!'

When the girl asked Senku what kind of girls he liked Senku simply answered this:

"A kind that would pump a ton of oxygen into my furnace"

Gen groaned internally at that answer

'And he's uninterested at romance. Like he's some sort of a Shonen protagonist…'

Gen managed to breathe and calmed himself in order to prevent getting noticed by the villagers. Senku had made the ramen for them. It was errible-tay. He could barely call this food.

'So this is what Tsukasa was talking about.' Gen just placed everything together in his head, 'This Senku is a scientist, through and through. He made the depetrification formula, he made this ramen, he has that silly equation on his clothes, he even has a furnace! I see why Tsukasa-chan fears him… but…'

Gen had to make sure. He wasn't going to just mingle with him and the primitives.

The blond villager girl whom Gen deduced as quite strong, and possibly the girl that Tsukasa ran into before, even expressed her displeasure at that answer. He wondered if she had some feelings for this Senku person.

The Mentalist admits that Senku is quite handsome. It was a shame to him that he isn't interested in romance. He would have loved to have gotten closer to him. But he supposed that he still has a job to do.

Well to everyone in the Empire of Might it was his job.

To Gen….

It was some assurance.

If this Senku is what he thought he was, that this Senku is the man that striked fear into Tsukasa's heart.

This handsome, nerdy, passionate man…

Might be the counter he was looking for.

Better strike while the iron's hot….

"Ah… this ramen is making me wickedly thirsty…" Gen admitted to himself, out loud for everyone else to hear. "A cola, would be great…"

And with that, Gen had Senku's undivided attention.

The Mentalist then went to work, fully analyzing this Senku to his heart's content.

Little that he knew what would happen later that within the past 3700+ years of his life, would change for the better.

'This is worth it…'

[belphegor1982]

That blonde woman who was with Jonathan still waited his call for days and jonathan didn't know how tell her "sorry for not call you, my nephew was kidnapped by a mummy and you know"

I started writing a reply and it turned into a fic :3 (Thanks a LOT - again - to @thisstableground for the Britpick! And Em, I hope you don’t mind that I published it before you sent it back. I know you’re crazy busy, I just hope RL is being kind to you.)

Call Me (on AO3 / on FFnet)

To think the evening had begun so well.

Minnie – real name Winifred Cooper, but who used real names in this game – had found a suitable rich idiot, they’d had a few drinks, made attempts at conversation (not that she really listened to him; one rich twit was as good as another and the only thing rich twits were good for in the end was money), and after a bit of a snog he’d taken her home for more.

His ‘home’ looked like a manor. Minnie couldn’t believe her luck.

Unfortunately that was when the evening went from promising to just plain weird. And not the fun sort of weird, either.

Judging from the look on her toff’s face – Jonathan, he said his name was, and he did look like a Jonathan more than she did a Winifred – people with stormy looks on their faces barging into his room wasn’t part of his plans.

“Oh, sorry,” he said with a nervous grin, “we must be in the wrong house.”

Minnie’s smile froze. But he’d had the keys and everything…?

“I thought you said this was your house,” she said, eyeing thestrange men in red robes striding towards her and Jonathan. Wait, wasthat a knife in the bloke’s belt!?

One of the men roughly pulled her away. She had ample time to checkthat this was, indeed, a very long, very deadly-looking knife with ahilt that appeared to be made of ivory and looked quite valuable.

The pitch of Jonathan’s voice climbed several notches when heretorted, “No, I didn’t!”

Minnie was about to protest, but a quick mental review of the evening– even accounting for the fact that she had only listened to hisprattle with one ear – confirmed that he had never actually saidthe house was his. Now she thought of it, it was even doubtful thathe’d said he even lived there.

But he had said he was rich. Several times, in fact.

Minnie resisted the thug manhandling her for a couple of seconds tostick her head in the door and say, “Call me!” just in casebefore the red-robed stranger closed the door in her face.

The next minute she realised the futility of her request. Whoeverthose men were, whatever the reason for their presence – and shehad a hunch it was about money – Jonathan was undoubtedly notgetting out of the room in one piece. She had wasted an entireevening on a man who was probably neither rich nor a complete idiotand almost certainly going to meet a ghastly end. The best thing wasto discreetly retrieve her coat and bag from downstairs and leg itwhile she still could.

…The door to the corridor was locked.

Minnie’s grandfather had been a hansom cab driver, and the old dearhad taught her a number of colourful and very creative oaths. Sheexhumed half of them from her memory to curse the air blue.

And then screamed as gunfire erupted from the next room.

In a haze of terror she tried to break down the door, only to findthat the hinges were on the inside. She looked about wildly andspotted a large wardrobe.

Minnie didn’t stop to think. She flung herself among the clothesand slammed the door shut.

The gunfire continued, louder than the earlier thunderstorm. She madeherself as small as she could, flinching every two seconds, her eyesscrewed shut. It seemed to last a long, long time.

After what felt like hours, Minnie realised that silence had fallen.There was no sound at all except the creaks of the wood when sheshifted. Maybe it was safe to come out, after all – even thoughshe’d have to cross the next room to get out. Considering whatshe’d heard, she wasn’t that keen on it. There were probably goryremains splattered everywhere in that room.

At least she’d be out of this madhouse, though.

Her hand found the door of the wardrobe and she pushed.

And pushed.

And spewed the rest of her grandfather’s curses when the damn thingdidn’t open.

Minnie raged, she cried, she whimpered, she swore, but she remainedlocked inside the wardrobe. At some point she gave up and slumped onthe floor between the coats, trousers, and dresses, thoroughlymiserable.

Wait, dresses?

Either Jonathan was a little more unusual than she’d thought or thelittle weasel was married and had kept mum about it. She was usuallyso skilled at spotting the traces a ring left on a man’s finger,too.

She spent a long time wondering exactly when the evening had turnedinto such an unmitigated disaster and feeling sorry for herselfbefore she gave in to boredom and fell asleep.

.⅋.

Minnie was abruptly woken up by a footstep approaching her hidingplace and the door being yanked open.

She screamed.

Jonathan screamed.

He stopped first and clutched his chest dramatically.

“Good God, woman,” he gasped, “what the hell are you doinghere?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped, all too awareof the countless little kinks and aches in her body and the fact thather mascara must have painted black tracks on her cheeks. Jonathan,she noted, looked dishevelled and tired, but completely unharmed. Howon earth…?

Minnie made to clamber out of the wardrobe, her whole body stiff andawkward. He didn’t help her out, too busy goggling at her.

“The bloody door was locked,” she spat, trying to untangle herlegs. Her tight dress wasn’t helping any. “And I wasn’t aboutto intrude on your little party, was I? Especially not once peoplestarted shooting all over the place!”

As if on cue, a tall man in a blue shirt ran into the room, holding agun in each hand and pointing both of them at her and Jonathan.

She gave a high-pitched squeal, and Jonathan yelped.

“Who are you?” the man asked with an American accent, his eyesnarrowing at her. “No, wait, I don’t care. Jonathan, take care ofit – and when this whole thing is over you and me are gonna have achat. Remember, twenty minutes.”

And he was gone in the blink of an eye.

Minnie was too angry and frazzled to be surprised.

“What is wrong with you people!?” she cried. “Costumedfreaks! Machine guns! Bloody… cowboys! What the hell?!”

“Well,” said Jonathan with a weak attempt at a smile, “at leasta resurrected mummy didn’t try to kill you. I’d count that as awin.”

Minnie stared at him, still vibrating with anger and residual fright,and opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She pushed past him andstormed out, only stopping on the entrance steps of the house.

It had stopped raining, but humidity hung in the air and it wascolder than even an English June night had any right to be. Thecountryside might be less smoky and dirty than London, but it wasalways colder, stranger, always reminding her that she felt better inthe middle of bustling traffic and busy streets. She belatedlyremembered that the nearest train station must be at least ten milesaway and cast a forlorn glance at her shoes, knowing they would notlast nearly as long. Then it hit her that she had left her coat andbag somewhere inside the house, and she sank on the stone steps witha frustrated sigh.

After a while, she started badly when she felt something heavy andwarm drop on her shoulders. The familiar perfume registered beforeshe recognised the coat as the one she’d worn earlier tonight,before the madness started.

Jonathan handed her her bag and sat clumsily beside her, drawing ahip flask from a pocket. He had changed his clothes, and lookedmarginally less foolish without his wilted dinner jacket.

“I called you a taxi,” he said.

You’re the taxi,Minnie almost retorted. She curbed the automatic childish sarcasm andwiped her cheeks with the heels of her hands.

She really could have done with some of what must be in that hipflask.

“Sorry about that wardrobe. The door’s always been a bittroublesome.”

Oh, what the hell. Might as well make small talk.

“I thought you said it wasn’t your house,” she said in alow voice. Jonathan didn’t smile, but something twinkled in hiseyes. He took a mouthful from his flask and threw her a sidewayslook.

“I never said that.”

“Then what…?”

“It’s my family’s house. My sister lives here with her husbandand her son. Rick’s actually a good chap when you know him, he’sjust a little on edge – what with those blighters in the red takingEvy, then the whole nasty business with Imhotep and the mummies onthe bus, then Alex being kidnapped…”

Minnie watched him rattle off things that made absolutely no sense atall, wondering if she should actually wait for the taxi to come pickher up or get away from him as fast as she could. Curiosity overrodesense.

“So Alex is your nephew?”

“Hm-hm.”

“And he’s been kidnapped?”

“That’s right.”

Minnie usually considered herself a pretty good judge of when peoplewere lying or not – when she decided to pay attention, anyway.Jonathan’s voice sounded on the offhand side of neutral, but thelittle worry lines around his mouth and the deep crease between hiseyebrows told her that, of all the nonsense she had witnessedtonight, this at least was real and personal.

“How old is he?”

“Eight.”

Something tightened in the region of her chest. Toff or not, that wasan awful thing to happen to a kid so young.

“Eightyears, three months and, er,seventeendays old,Ibelieve.” Jonathan rubbeda hand over his face and let out a slightly shaky breath.

Compassionand anger were having a go at each other in Minnie’s mind. How darehe. How darehe make her feel sorry for him and the kid. Whoever had kidnapped thechild were probably after the kind of ransom you’d expect peopleliving in a stately home like this to pay: the familywould either call the police or pay a lot of money and everythingwould be right as rain.

That hipflask was looking more and more tempting by the minute.

Everything– the evening she’d had, the damp cold despite her coat, theawkwardness of the situation – rattledaroundher brain louder than a train clatteringalong its rails. Inthe racket she heard herself say, softer than she meant to, “I’msorry.”

Jonathan’shead jerked towards her, as though she had just reminded him she wasthere. His eyes followed her gaze to the hip flask he was stillholding between two fingers. He handed it to her wordlessly, and shetook it with a nod of thanks.

Thankgoodness for posh twits who carried silver hip flasks. Jonathandidn’t stint himself on booze. The whisky was top notch.

Minnie wasnot the sort of girl who went red and giggly after only a sip ofalcohol. She had learned the dangers of that early on. But shecouldn’t help a snort.

“Ijust wanted afun evening with a rich idiot, you know that? And you, sir, are justlousyat the rich idiot thing.”

Jonathanpocketed his hip flask and shrugged. “Well, Ionly wanted a fun evening. But it looks like neither of us is gettingwhat we want tonight, doesn’t it.” He tilted his head to the sideand looked at her. “Tell me something. When we started, er…talking…”

“Is thatwhat you call it?” Minnie slipped in slyly. Jonathan looked ratherput out.

“Yes,well, I’m quite aware I might not have been the most scintillatingconversationalist, but then again neither have you, so.”

Sheresented that remark. Or maybe resembled it.

The nerveof that man.

“Whatwere you looking for, really? A good time, or a mark?”

The wordsurprised her. Maybe he really wasn’t as wet as he looked.

Andmaybe pigs were flying in the night sky, aswell,because Winifred Cooper took a look at herself and answered honestly.

“…Both?”

Jonathanlooked at her, his expression inscrutable. Thenhe shrugged with a smile that had more than a touch of silliness.

“Youreally got short-changed on both, didn’t you? Your evening was anightmareand I’m flat broke.”

“What!?”Minnie’s eyes went round.

“Or nearenough, anyway. As it turns out, it’s a bad idea to trustuntrustworthy people.”

“Oh.”

Justhow gullible washe, really?

Thesound of anoncoming motor and wheels creaking on the gravel of the drivewayinterrupted her trainof thoughtand she looked up to see a taxistopping near the house. Jonathan stood up with a wince and held outhis hand.

“Lookslike your carriage hasarrived,Milady. Come on, up you get.”

Minnietook theprofferedhand, holdingher coat tightlyshut.Whenhe let go she almost had to quash a pang of regret. His hand had beenwarm.

Beforeshe closed the door of the taxi,something – temporary insanity,no doubt – made her call him back.

“Jonathan?”

Jonathanwas halfway up the steps to the house. He turned back to her with aslightlystartled expression.

“Look…Thisevening really has been, um…”

“Anunequivocal disaster?”

“Somethinglike that. Itwas fun, though, before… Well, before.” Not that Minnie wanted torepeat the experience. Maybe she should start chasing the broodyloners from now on. Quirky airheads were deceptively dangerous.“Aboutyour nephew… Could you give me a call when you get him back? Justso I know he’s safe.”

Immediatelyafter she mentally kicked herself. Nevergetting involved in any way wasn’t just a convenientdefencemechanism, it was a necessary one. Congratulations,you sap, now he thinks you care.

Shedefinitely didn’t. Not a jot. What was it to her, really. Manyother kids had it much worse every day.

Jonathanstared at her, looking taken aback. Then he smiled.

“I’lldo that, then. Thank you, Minnie.”

Thatwas when she realised that she would havetonever see him again. Batting her eyelashes to part fools andtheir money and fooling around for a good time was one thing; takingadvantage of a moment of vulnerability was too low, even for her.Minnie couldn’t in good conscience say that she wasa woman ofprinciple, but she did have standards. And she didn’t do personal.That way lay danger.

Shecouldn’t help turning back in her seat just before the taxileft the driveway for the road. The steps were deserted; Jonathan hadgone back inside the house.

Onecall, she told herself firmly. That’s it. Then it’sbusiness as usual.

No harmever came from making one single phone call, after all.

.⅋.

Notes:

I’mnot saying I had “Minnie the Moocher” in my head the whole time Iwas writing this, but… I kinda did :D ThisMinnie doesn’t have a “heart as big as a whale”, though. Maybea dogfish shark :3 Still,Iliked creating her. She’s a gold digger and owns up to it, but doeshave standards.

Hope you liked!