#middle class families and I went ''oh no suddenly *I* am in danger''

[apocraphelion]

seen a few people a few places talk about trying to flee the country and. I'm talking white, able-bodied, queer and trans people. I am not seeing people of color talk that way. I am not seeing physically disabled people make those posts.

its got me thinking about how these marginalizations and privileges intersect, because obviously you do have to actually be afraid to want to flee your country- but it's not the people in the most risk.

maybe it's cause you have to think there's an "out" for you to get to, to think about escape.

[scarrrletales]

Monster in paris

Donquixote Doflamingo x Showgirl! Reader

NSFW

Warnings : Pr-stitution, s-x, c-nnilingus, f-replay, s-xual stuff

A night in 1920 in the capital of france in paris is an night where you can find your desires. In dark alleyways, bars, parks and by the moonlit night, especially the so called Moulin Rouge.

The night was busy as always, a bunch of high class men in suits surrounded with women wearing skimpy clothing pouring wine on their glasses and giggling.

They all turned their gaze on you, eyes wide open and jaw on the floor and the men in suits shooed away the women.

"You indeed is looking fine as the wine i'm drinking tonight."

"If your thinking that i would offer to sell myself to you, i would not, boys."

Uninterested you turned away back at them and walked away. Ugh, this men looked disgusting. The men that i slept last month was more hot and rich, not old and saggy.

Heading off to your personal dressing room, you sighed and plopped yourself into your chair facing the mirror.

You stand up and started changing onto your costume. It was a red feathery bra, bottoms, a heavy red feather headpiece and of course the pair nude heels.

"Well well, as if it's the one and only Y/N, what does it feels like to be at the bottom?"

Sara snorted and pinched my cheeks. I rolled my eyes and pushed her away in annoyance.

"I'm going to tell you this since were 'friends'."

She said while putting on her lipstick infront of the mirror.

"Then get straight to the point."

"Still prickly as always, anyways, A mafia boss, will come to our show tonight and will pick a dancer to entertain him privately, I heard it's the spanish mafia boss, Donquixote Doflamingo."

She said estatic and squealing.

"And i am confident that it will be me the one and only."

You ignore her and just decided to go on applying your makeup. You have no interest in such things but when it involves money, that's when.

"Not interested huh?, well that's good. Well then looser, toodles."

That guy huh, i heard that man is no good. Killing people who betrayed him, dealing drugs all over europe. The Donquixote family was notorious and most wanted mafia of all. Talk about being the most powerful dangerous man in Spain.

Well it's an old man i think, and that women in this place are going after him because of his fortune.

You shrugged it off, finishing your makeup and hair and went off to stage in line with the dancers.

As the curtain rises, the lights pointed at us, the jazz music played by the orchestra the crowd went crazy, whistling, hooting and shouting.

You smiled confidently and started swaying your hips and body to the beat. Legs kicking up and down back and forth and tumbling from left to right.

You suddenly felt a pair of eyes staring over in the crowd. You stare into the front row of seats. There a man in pink feathery coat, sunglasses and a suit stares into you with interest.

'Who the hell wears sunglasses in the night?'

Like any normal dancer would do you smiled at him and shrugged it off and continued dancing. As the final position in the stage come, you set foot in the middle of the stage.

The crowd applaused as the curtain goes down and the dancers dispersed.

You let out a sigh of relief and went to your dressing room to change into a a flapper dress. Your ears perked up as you heard a knock on the door.

"Y/N, the boss said someone wants to meet you at the bar area, come quickly."

"Yes, i will be right there in a moment."

After you finished touching up and changing, you went ahead to the bar. You sat into the bar stool and ordered an blue gin.

Someone sat beside you as you drink. You turned your head to look at who it was.

"Oh, is it you who requested my audience?" you said. Looking at the man with the large pink feather coat you smiled at earlier.

"Fufufufu, yes i am." the man said in a peculiar tone whilst looking at you.

"Well, my prices are very high." you teased the man with the shades, slowly travelling up your dainty hands through his chest. He seemed good looking and it would be such a waste to let the money go down the drain.

"Name it. "

"Hmmmmm, well then here are my rates, Making out with me is 200 francs, showing you my body is 300 francs, watching you while touching myself is 800 francs, 900 for a blowjob, touching my body will cost 1000 francs, and hearing me moan will be 1400 francs."

He stayed quiet, admiring your face. Smiling you took a sip of your drink . 'This man is broke, this deal will get nowhere'.

"If your just wasting my time, then goodb---." you turned your back against the man.

"50,000 francs, if you can entertain me."

You eyes widdened in shock, as you hear the amount of money he is offering. The man pulled a wad of cash out of his suit and waved it.

50,000 FRANCS!? you can buy yourself an house with that and never work again, i can also pay my debt in this hell hole!

As you were about to snatch the wad of cash in his arms you tripped and fell into his chest.

"What a naughty girl you are fufufufu, i'll give you the money later after."

You crossed your arms and look at the man up and down. Well, for starters atleast he looks decent and hot.

"Then follow me."

Turning back you started walking to lead him into your room. The man stands up followed into my room. Come to think of it, i haven't know this mans name yet.

"What is your name Mr.?"

You asked as you are busy fumbling into your keys for your chambers.

"Doflamingo, Donquixote Doflamingo."

Your eyes widened as you heard the name.

"Hah, what a joke."

He just laughed again in that peculiar manner and went towards the room with you. With the influence of alcohol your mind was started to become hazy.

You pushed him off lazily at the side of your bed and started to take off your clothing. Your dress fell into the floor which revealed the red lingerie you are wearing.

Cupping his face and staring at his eyes you sat comfortably at his lap. Your and the mans tongue fight with each other in delight and his hands roaming around your body.

"HEY!"

Startled you yelled as he ripped your bra revealing your plump breast and perked up nipples.

"Fufufufufufufu excited already darling?"

He said and started to lick your chest onto your breasts. Fuck, this man is not to be underestimated.

He slammed you into the bed and ripped your panties. Your breath hitches as he stares into your eyes whilst having those cocky grin of his.

"It's unfair, i'm the only one who's naked." you pouted at him and rolled your eyes.

Without a response, he lifted up your leg onto his shoulder and started kissing your feet onto your thighs.

"FUCK!~."

You cursed as he shoved his slender fingers onto my entrance mercilessly.

Meanwhile you just looked away, you can't believe that this was happening. It was the very first time you felt excited doing something like this.

"Does that feel good?"

You just blushed and covered your embarassed and nodded.

Doflamingo smirked as your faces become closer and our bodies pressed together heatedly against the bed, as our lips pressed together and our tongues battle in dominance, only the strong taste of rum lingers into your mouth and one of his slender fingers teased your clit, making you hum in delight.

"Ohhhh-yes! "

He suddenly grabbed your waist and rammed it straight to his manhood, you screamed in shock. This man was so big, and you can't really fit inside him. It's been 6 months since you last have sex , so pain would be expected.

Tears started to run down your eyes as you looked away at him and burrying your nails in his muscular back.

"Your so fucking tight. "

He panted, still holding your waist, then caressing it slowly. It stayed like that for a few seconds then, it was replaced by an addicting sensation of pleasure.

"Ohhhhhhh! hah~. "

You cried out as his cock is fully inside you, making you feel so full. He chuckles and licks your earlobe, making you shudder.

"So, tell me who do you belong to? Slut. "

"I-i don't belong to no one. "

"Are you sure? "

You feel him grin and caressed your breasts and pinched your hardened nipples.

"Hmmmm, what about now?"

He said and thrusted his length inside your needy cunt. This man, he's so fucking good. You feel ashamed making those lewd faces infront of him and giving in.

"Oh~sir! I fucking like that. "

"Fufufu, say that again darling. "

"I fuckin' love your cock, please...."

You fell down onto your knees and kneeled. Doflamingo smirked and cupped your cheeks before pulling your hair back.

"Then suck. "

You lovingly obliged to his requests and started pumping his length back and fourth, giving licks there and then and sucking on his balls.

This man was addicting, or maybe this was just the alcohol that got you crazy. But this was the first time in years you got so excited.

He kept whispering dirty things in your ear while thrusting his cock inside you.

"Ah!!!!! I think i'm going to-."

"Not yet. "

The door swung open revealing Sara, her eyes widened in shock while you just turned to look at her with a flushed lewd face.

"W-what the fuck?!? "

She cursed, as she saw your naked body curled up against the man he's targetting.

"Fuck. i did not get to come. " you said annoyed, your arms still wrapped around his neck.

"Fufufufu, easy there y/n, we still got plenty of time left. "

Doflamingo said and slapped your butt and laughed. Sara, was still in shock standing there like a deer in headlights.

"Do you want to join? "

You asked then chuckled kissing your beloved client----Doflamingo. She bit her lip and slammed the door walking away.

"Fufufufu, what do you say, be mine or stay here? "

"Well, i am a very very expensive woman, Doffy. But i think i would give you a chance. "

You stood up and walked towards the window overlooking the eiffel tower, he kissed your shoulder and said.

"If that what's make you happy, my queen. "

NOT SO FUN FACT : Showgirls date back to the late 1800s in Parisian music halls and cabarets such as the Moulin Rouge, Le Lido, and the Folies Bergère. The trafficking of showgirls for the purposes of prostitution was the subject of a salacious novel by the nineteenth-century French author Ludovic Halévy.

[kaesaaurelia]

Thinking about the temple I went to briefly in college where a minyan was "any ten willing adults who made it here despite the weather -- sometimes we only get eight, though" because it was Central Illinois and they were mostly interfaith families, vs the shittiness of my mom's childhood rabbi who said he'd marry my parents without requiring my father to convert, then like three months before the wedding said, "Oh, actually I don't do interfaith couples." Thinking about the girl who deadass got up in front of my French class and argued passionately that every country in the world should follow rabbinical law (which version? idk, her version) and try boys old enough to be bar mitzvah'd as adults so they would be subject to the death penalty. Thinking about how exposure to that one single Central Illinois temple's idea of a minyan would've killed her stone dead.

Thinking about the neighbors that lectured my parents about "not raising me right" because we had a Christmas tree so I was clearly not being raised Jewish, and the next year, thinking about how my parents got the most obnoxious neon blinky star and put the tree in the window that faced their house. Thinking about my dad's family that kept giving me Jesus-themed presents for Christmas until we stopped talking to them, who could never acknowledge that my mother had a law degree. (Thinking about how my great-grandmother on my mother's side got her doctorate in French literature after her first husband died and she married her second husband, who was a rabbi. Exposure to my mother's mother's family would've killed my dad's family stone dead too, maybe.)

Thinking about how I grew up being made fun of for not "looking Jewish" even though that's not how anything fucking works, but my mom was adopted and didn't convert, so to lots of people she's not really Jewish and neither am I. Thinking about how in middle school my best friend (also Jewish, no adoption history) and I used to be mistaken for twins (so I do look Jewish, even though that's not how anything works), and about how now she and one of her other best friends (white Latina, like my mom's biological mom) are mistaken for sisters. Thinking about how both of us signed my friend's ketubah when she got married even though her other look-alike friend is goyisch, because the sweet old lady from her temple who was going to sign it got lost on the way to the lodge and, it being an interfaith wedding in rural Illinois, all the other Jews who got there that early were related to her. The rabbi said she considered it valid as long as the signers were unrelated adults, and as a female rabbi I assume she also has faced her share of accusations of Not Good Enough.

Thinking about how recently I had to explain to my doctor how I, a white woman, could have sickle cell trait. My doctor seemed shocked and appalled that an interracial union could produce pale-skinned descendants. Thinking about how my whole life has been an exercise in arguing about how little biological ancestry matters until suddenly it does -- suddenly it's a medical issue you're facing, a mystery kidney condition where they can't diagnose it and you maybe get a kidney removed for no reason and continue to suffer on and off (what happened to my biological grandmother), or, if you're lucky, you have a heads up that the doctor isn't very good and can convince him to hold off on the operation long enough for the Afro-Caribbean intern who knows his shit and has seen this before, to diagnose you properly (what happened to my mom), or you're me, thankfully you just have chronic anemia, mention the sickle cell trait, are disbelieved at first, and then are lectured by your doctor about the primary danger of sickle cell trait: if you have children (presumably with a white man) you are going to have to explain this VERY CLEARLY to him beforehand so he knows you didn't cheat on him, because why would he trust you?

(Thinking about the nurse who told my mom I might "come out black" because she had sickle cell trait, and how my mom had to be prepared to defend her fidelity to my dad.)

Kidney issues? Anemia? Well. I guess angry husbands are a greater health risk to women, after all.

(Thinking about all the times my mom has had to fight for barely adequate medical care; about how many times she has argued with the doctors, half-conscious, about one of her various life-threatening conditions, and forced them to listen for once to the sick fat woman who thinks she knows things; about how many times I could have never been born if she hadn't argued. And thinking about how hard it was to be raised by someone who still to this day can never acknowledge she might be wrong, and I'm not saying this justifies what she did to me, but goddamn, if I'd been fighting for consciousness that many times to yell about insulin or whatever, I'd be hard-pressed to back down, too. I'm not planning to have kids, by the way; the kidney issues are way more likely. Not that he asked.)

Thinking about my great-grandfather the rabbi and his ham bone seder, there being no other bones available for the seder plate in that town in rural North Carolina, and then I feel I have to clarify, no, he was my step-great-grandfather, and my mom was adopted, I'm not really related enough to him to claim him as an ancestor. But then again, what kind of rabbi would look at a ham bone on a seder plate and say it was good, and then look at me and say we're not family? I might not look like him, I'll never know, but I know my mother takes after him because we had a dog toy on the seder plate once and if that's not likeness I don't know what is. I don't think he ever doubted his own Jewishness; some of his family fled the Spanish Inquisition. But I think he'd think I was Jewish enough.

I don't know Hebrew and I didn't grow up going to temple, because that one rabbi sucked and all the other temples in town -- and we were arguably spoiled for choice -- were much more rigid in their interpretations of the rules. I never got bat mitzvah'd or even confirmed. Most damningly, I hate arguing. But I can, and I will, and I come from a long line of people who had to argue to survive, and also one guy who got caught in the middle of hog farm country and had to put together an unplanned Seder. And so, I think, if the ham bone was good enough, and any ten adults who made it to temple in a blizzard can be enough, probably so am I.

(Thinking about the time when I was four or so and learning to set the table, and I asked my father -- who is not Jewish -- why it was important that the forks be straight, and he said, "It's so they know we're Jewish." That one isn't a deep thought, my dad is just a troll. But I was probably eight or nine before I was like "hang on, that doesn't seem right..." and when I got older and tried to read the whole Torah for myself, I kept a sharp eye out for mentions of silverware.)

[bubblegumbeech]

The Librarian’s Trick

Day one Ectoberhaunt: Trick or Treat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34213519

 1:

 Wes was certain this Cassius guy was a ghost. He had to be. Humans didn’t live on the outskirts of town in large decrepit clock towers that Wes was      pretty sure didn’t exist last week    .

 Humans didn’t have red eyes and white hair (unless they had a condition called Albinoism, Wes had looked it up. But Albinoism      also     meant they had no melanin      anywhere    and Cassius Dark was decidedly tan in an admittedly attractive but decidedly not Albino kind of way)

 Humans didn’t have fangs when they smiled but normal teeth whenever Wes tried to point out that      He had FANGS. They were right there!!!  

 Humans didn’t spend all their time either with Danny Fenton (who was Also very much a ghost!! Which should be in the list of proof but no one believes it so it’s seperate but still!) or mysteriously absent.

 And humans didn’t seem to know everything all the time but talk like a bad astrology website.

 So Wes was going to find a way to prove it.

 His first try had him sneaking a “ghost translator” he didn’t remember the stupid name Fenton’s dad called it when he bought it with his allowance, into the library where Cassius Dark supposedly worked.

 Supposedly, because while he could be found there, Wes had never actually seen him doing anything other than reading. And it was never a book Wes recognized, like, he wasn’t reading the Twilight series or anything. The last book Wes saw had been a large ancient looking tome written in a language Wes didn’t recognize. But Everytime he tried (subtly! He was super nonchalant about it!) to take a picture it ended up blurry!! And No Kyle, it wasn’t because he was      bad at taking photos    .

 But that didn’t matter because Wes had a different plan now. He was going to use the Fentons’ new version of their “ghost translator” thing, and see what happened. It was supposed to be both a translator and a truth decoder at the same time. So no matter what a ghost said, the device should say what they actually mean. Or something.

 With Danny, a bunch of innocuous stuff went off around him, but people always hand waved it as faulty tech. Wes wasn’t sure that was the case, in fact he was positive it wasn’t. But if he could get something useful to build up from, that would be a good start. And every good reporter needed a start.

 He stepped up to the Library’s front desk, where Cassius was sitting reading what was      clearly     a spell tome if the different summoning pentagrams in the open page Wes could see were anything to go by.

 “Welcome Young Weston,” Cassius said, the hint of a smile hidden behind his red eyes as he closed his book. Wes could swear they were glowing slightly. Geez did this guy get his ‘how to pretend to be human’ classes from      Fenton    ?

 … that would certainly explain why no one ever believed Wes, since that was a long beaten dead horse in his closet.

 He, very discreetly, had the device hooked up to one of his earphones, which he kept in one of his ears like any normal less than perfectly mannered teenager as he asked Cassius Dark his questions.

 “Excuse me sir? Do you work here?” he started with, it was a more or less innocuous question and one he actually wanted the answer to.

 Cassius Dark smiled. “I do.”

 My Job is all that was, is, and shall be. That which I set as my goal is beyond mortal comprehension and those I call master shall fall to my machinations. But yes, I get paid for sitting at this desk and answering questions sometimes. I am a ghost, fear me.

 Wes tried not to sweat too obviously. What the fuck?

 “Can you tell me where the journalism section is?” Wes decided to make a tactical retreat, at least his voice didn’t crack.

 “Straight back for eight shelves and then turn right. It’s next to the Non-fiction books.”

 I know what you’re looking for, I know why you are here. I know the exact time of your death and what will happen next. Your efforts amuse me though. I am a ghost, fear me.

 What Wes did next was not      exactly     fleeing. But it wasn’t      not     fleeing either.

 He’d have to try something else.

 2:

 The next thing he wanted to try was a bit riskier. If you thought about it a certain way. But it also wasn’t if you thought about it the way Wes did.

 He was going to use a phase-proof net.

 Genius, because unlike the translator machine thing, it would actually stop the ghost from attacking Wes if it got angered. Which it would, probably, since Wes was throwing a net at it.

 The plan was really simple though, he’d gotten a very large net, paid extra for the little aim thing, practiced half a billion times of his brothers before they went to the parents and got him grounded for a week, and then memorized the path Cassius Dark took in the mornings to go to his “job” at the library.

 Right now he was hiding in one of the leafier trees, right above the path that Cassius always used, waiting.

 And waiting.

 And…      waiting.  

 Honestly he was about to go home and was fairly certain this guy was going to be like, super late to work, when he finally appeared.

 Wes wasted no time aiming, making sure the trajectory was absolutely perfect, and firing the net off. He was just about to jump in celebration, watching the net as it curled slightly around its target, but before it could hit and wrap around him, Cassius was suddenly not there.

 Or he was, but just a little bit to the left, so that the net sailed harmlessly past.

 Wes cursed.

 3:

 The third one was fool proof. It had to be.

 Which was why Wes was staring at a large conspiracy board, covered in paparazzi-esque shots of the librarian and random notes he’d taken, all connected with a dizzying amount of red string.

 “Kyle, seriously. I need to figure out what kind of ghost he is or he’s always going to have the upper hand!!”

 Kyle just rolled his eyes and continued playing his video game, as if he didn’t care that Wes had set up his very important planning and plotting in the middle of the living room so long as it didn’t interfere with his own plans.

 “It has to be pretty powerful, he was able to dodge my net before it even touched him. And the translator thing clearly said ‘my goal is beyond comprehension’ or something,” Wes mused, “and he also said his job was like, everything?”

 Wes checked his notes, “yeah, ‘all that is was and shall be’. What could he mean by that?”

 His very annoying and clearly not taking this as seriously as he should brother just chuckled. “I don’t know Wes, maybe he can see the future?”

 That… no. That’s way too OP. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down Wes’ spine. There was no way a ghost could see the future right?

 Right?

 He had to test this theory.

 But how do you even test something like that?

 “Kyle, how would you test if someone could see the future?”

 “Throw something at the back of their head and see if they dodge?” He answered way too quickly.

 Wes thought about it for a moment. “No, what if they just have really good reflexes?”

 “Oh huh, I guess that could be true. No idea then.” He shrugged and Wes had to fight the urge to throw something at the back of      his    head.

 Whatever. He had to make plans.

 He’d tried just throwing things. It was risky, and kind of terrifying, but Kyle was right it      was     the first that came to mind.

 But Cassius never dodged. He was always just, not where Wes thought he was. Or Wes had      really bad aim,    which he didn’t!!! He was a basketball ace!! He had great aim! And great situational awareness!!

 So why couldn’t he hit Cassius Dark?

 Obviously it was because he could see the future. And the smug smile he always had when he knew Wes was looking reminded him an awful lot of a certain other Phantom.

 4:

 Ask him about his family.

 Easy enough. Especially without the Fenton’s weird translator because that might have been a bit terrifying. And also this time he had back up.

 He dragged Kyle by his sleeve into the library.

 “Mr. Cassius!”

 Cassius looked up from his book, removing the delicate reading glasses balanced on his nose. “Can I help you Mr. Weston?”

 “Yes!” He smiled broadly, taking out a small notebook that he had used to take notes on the suspicious and ghoulish things going on around town until it was mostly shreds of paper. “I’m writing an OP ED on the town library, and would like to know more about the librarian. Can you answer a few personal questions?”

 Kyle snorted and Wes had to elbow him in the side to get him to shut up. He was here as back up, not to ruin his plan.

 “So,” he began, “is Cassius a family name?”

 “No.”

 Wes nodded. And then frowned. Did ghosts have families? Supposedly they were alive once right? At least that was the general idea, Wes thought.

 “So what can you tell us about your parents? Like, what’s your father’s name?”

 Cassius raised an eyebrow, and had a soft smile filled with good humor. Wes felt it hit him like a threat. What was this ghost hiding?

 Well, other than the fact that he’s a ghost.

 “I can’t tell you much I’m afraid. My mother is long gone and I never had a father.”

 Kyle grimaced and elbowed Wes himself before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 “It’s no matter,” Cassius replied, still smiling, “I may yet see her again.”

 Ah, so either she wasn’t dead or he’s convinced she became a ghost too. That made sense. It could be his unfinished business as they say among the paranormal hunters. At least, the not fight-y and crazy ones.

 “So Dark was your mother’s name?” Wes asked, wondering if he could maybe find any records on her where he had failed to find them on Cassius himself.

 The smile slid right off his face. Wes and Kyle both felt the subtle chill in the air as Cassius leaned back and looked off to the side, as if to glare at something that wasn’t there. “No, I’m afraid Dark is my ex-husband’s name.”

 “Why keep it?” Kyle asked, completely ignoring the danger of the situation.

 The smile came back, except this time instead of soft and barely there as if he were indulging a child, it was sharp and twisted. He chuckled at an inside joke no one else in the room would ever understand and then he said, “Well, it’s not like      he     has any use for it now.”

 Wes paled. Had he killed his husband?!

 5:

 After a hasty retreat from the library Wes treated Kyle to a milkshake and fries at the nasty burger just as he had promised. Payment for going along with his ‘weird ghost theories’.

 But Wes couldn’t eat, he was too busy thinking. This one actually helped! He found information about the ghost’s previous life! He had a mother, but not a father, and had a husband.

 With the current politics it was one of two options. Either he was from a previous culture that allowed men to marry each other, or he was a more recent ghost than Wes had been expecting. He had already taken out his laptop and was scrolling through obituaries with the surname Dark, trying to think if he knew any off the top of his head that might have been in town when they died.

 Nothing particular came to mind.

 Wes’ thinking was interrupted by a loud, obnoxious slurping noise from his brother. He shot him a glare, but Kyle didn’t react. Wasn’t even looking at him. Instead he was looking out the window and watching one of the daily ghost attacks with Phantom playing hero as always.

 “You know, it’s kinda cool that they’re hiring actors to build the town’s lore like that,” he said, clearly ignoring the obvious evidence of ghosts right outside his window.

 “What the      hell     are you talking about?” Wes groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He needed coffee or something, it was a shame the Nasty Burger only served sludge no sane person would drink.

 Kyle finally looked away from the window, his eyes wide as if      he     was the one confused. “You know, how they got the librarian to say he was married to Pariah Dark? And then imply he’s the reason he’s a ghost?”

 Wes felt like the seat underneath him had suddenly disappeared. “Where did you get      That    from?!”

 “He said his ex-husband was named Dark! Pariah Dark’s Ghost Zone show is the first thing that comes to mind!” Kyle argued back. “Isn’t it?”

 Holy shit this guy was married to the ghost king.

 He thought back to the ominous answers he’d gotten that first day from the Fentons’ translator. Maybe he should leave this one alone.

 +1

 Wes was at the library, studying quietly and absolutely avoiding the librarian. Not that he’d seen him today, but it didn’t hurt to keep his head down. With any luck the guy had a short memory and would forget Wes had been trying to find a way to out him to the town.

 A portal ripped from the air in front of him, sending a static energy throughout the library and causing Wes’ hair to stand on end. It was a swirling purple, deeper and more… well      more     than most of the natural portals that Wes had seen appear around town.

 He wanted to scream, but years of living in Amity Park had fully trained that out of him. Screaming was the number one way to get a ghost locked on you as their first target. Especially if you were there when the portal opened.

 Before Wes could even think to duck under the table he was using a figure stepped out of the portal, poised and composed. He had a deep purple hood that seemed to swirl with the fabric of galaxies and a large ornate clock embedded into his chest. His skin was a rich blue and he had glowing red eyes.

 Wes recognized him immediately.

 “Oh, hello Mr. Weston, is there something I can help you with?” Cassius Dark asked.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

3. Who get’s presents? (m)

"And do you get something from Santa Claus for the year?" Asks Jaehyun, looking at your ass as you bend down. "I gave birth to two children in a row. I think I deserve Christmas presents," you say with a laugh and keep tidying up the toys. "And do you think I'll get some?" Jaehyun asked cheekily. "Well if you don't help me clean up, then you won't." You raise your eyebrows and put the pencils in the box. "I just love to see you bend over." Jaehyun gave you a pat on the butt and you turn to him immediately. "Jaehyun ... the kids made a mess here. We should clean this up." You just kind of see the chaos and since the twins are now starting to put everything in their mouths, you didn't want them to choke. "We could do a mess first and then we clean up." Jaehyun winked and he pressed his middle against your body. "Then you are tired after sex and then you don't help me anymore." You pout and stroke his chest. "We also wanted to order a few gifts for the children." Since Jaehyun had so little time because of the shoot, you had to do most in the night. The Christmas stress has now become a reality, because with four children this is something completely new. "A quickie?" Jaehyun asked, raising his eyebrows. "We'll do things first and then we can do a quickie, okay?" You look at him with a smile and stroke his cheek. "Okay, okay." Jaehyun sighed, but saw that this was the best accommodation. You then tidy things up together, then you sit down in bed with Jaehyun's laptop and look for what gifts would be best for the children, but also for friends and family. "What do you think? Should we buy this for your mother?" You click through the pages and show him everything. But when you now turn to him, you can see that he fell asleep on your shoulder. He was so tired from all the filming on set and having to follow up with the family was definitely not easy for him.

Jaehyun had to go back to work the next day. This working day was also very hard for him. He had to stand for hours, there were always a lot of people around him and he just missed sitting at home. He missed his children and he missed you. Since filming will then be on a Christmas break for two weeks, the producers wanted to film a lot more before that. "How was your work?" You ask Jaehyun when he got home. "Exhausting ... I just wanted to see you", whispered and a slight moan could be heard. You look at him and were surprised at the sexual undertone. "Do we have to clean up today too?" He presses his body against your back while you prepare the food. "No, I was able to do everything today, and the children were good today and didn't mess around as much." You smile and feel how the pressure from him got stronger. His arms reached around your body and he kissed your neck. "What about the presents?" His hands went dangerously close to your waistband. "Maybe we can take a day and go shopping. We should be visiting local stores more than just shopping online anyway." You're grinning because yesterday you're horny after him too. "Shit ... you're so sexy right now." His hand slipped into your pants and he suppressed his moan while kissing your neck. "Daddy!" Suddenly you hear Sunoh's voice and Jaehyun quickly withdrew his hand. "Hey big boy," Jaehyun grinned and Sunoh ran towards him. He stretched out his arms and he always did this to indicate that he wanted to be picked up. Jaehyun took his son in his arms and kissed him. "Did you have a nice day?" He asked, stroking his cheek. "Yes." He nodded his head and his dimples appeared. "Mummy, I'm hungry", Miga came into the kitchen and looked at you desperately. "The meal is already ready," you say and put the pot on the table. Everyone sat down and Miga told them what worried them most. "I hope I was good enough that Santa Claus gave me something," she said, looking at her food. "I'm sure you will get enough gifts," said Jaehyun and laughed. "But I want a horse," said Miga suddenly and Jaehyun and you look at each other in surprise. Where did the idea suddenly come from? "A horse?" You ask. "A girl in my class has a horse. I want one too." "But you have to learn to ride first," you say and look at your daughter. "Yes! I like riding," said Miga and grinned. "Do you know who likes riding too?" Jaehyun then asked her. Miga shook her head and looked at her father in amazement. "Mummy!" He looked at you with a grin and you know immediately what he meant. "Really Mummy? You ride?" She asks excitedly. "No, no ...", you wanted to avert it right away, but Jaehyun interrupted you. "She doesn't ride horses," he said with a big grin. "Jaehyun!" You hiss immediately. "What are you riding on, Mummy?" She asked, surprised. "I don't ride. Daddy is just kidding," you say, giving him an angry look. "Silly Daddy," Miga then said and giggled.

After you put the children to bed, you sit down in the living room, listen to music and Jaehyun drank a glass of wine. "I'm looking forward to it when you can drink alcohol again." His fingers gently stroked your shoulders and the tension between you grew more intense. "Why?" You are half lying on top of him and you look at him with big eyes. "Because then you're really naughty." Jaehyun grinned and stroked your hair. "Are you bored with me already?" You feel a little hurt and try to stand up, but Jaehyun pulled you back to him. "Never! I just wanted to start with a little dirty talk." He grinned and stares at him. "Oh!" You smile uncertainly, but Jaehyun was about to kiss you. His lips touched you very gently. There was still no tongue involved. He was still holding you gently by your hands and he was grinning as he continued to kiss you. "I miss you so much," you say quietly to him and look at him. "I know, I'm not there that often right now. I miss the children's laughter, the babbling of the babies, when Miga talks about her school, when Sunoh runs to me to play ..." He tilted his head back and sighed . "But I also miss the time with you ..." He lifts his head again and his lips came very close to you again. "I miss to fuck you..." he whispered suddenly and a cold shiver ran down your back. Your fingers reached into the shirt and you can feel the tension. "Shit ... I love to feel how your pussy clenched around my hard cock. Look how fast you make me hard." Jaehyun took your hand and led it to his center. And yes, he was very ready. You stroke him a little and that was enough for him to sit up with a swing and he took you right away. He turned you so that you were bent over the couch and he pulled your pants down behind you. "Sexy panties," he said, stroking the white lace of the lingerie. You were hoping that you would have sex today, so you decided to do something daring. "Just for you," you breath and wink. "I'll leave it on," he said and continued to look at your ass. You take off your tops while Jaehyun pulled down his pants. He then pushed himself back to you, put his hand under your panties and began to massage you on your clit with two fingers. "You like that, don't you?" He asked with a grin. "I think you can feel that," you say and throw your head back. You got wetter and wetter and you just crave his cock even more. You reach back and bend forward to make it clear to him that you are ready. Jaehyun moaned and immediately pushed your panties aside. In the next moment you will already feel it in you. You were so wet that he just slipped into you. "Ah yes! Deeper," you moan louder now. Jaehyun didn't have to be told that twice. He grabbed your hip and continued to fuck you hard. His pace was fast, his grip was hard, the two of you moaning loudly all over the living room, but then ... "AH Oh no ..." Jaehyun twitched and you can feel how it suddenly became warmer below. "SHIT," he cursed and pulled out of you. He was cumming way too soon. You turn around and feel his cum running down your leg. "That reminds me of our first time," you say with a laugh and Jaehyun immediately blushed. "I am still embarrassed." He now wiped his orgasm off you and you have to smile. "It doesn't have to be. I'm glad that I'm still making you so horny." You wink and smile at him. Jaehyun nodded and now he laughed too. "You really still make me horny."

daddy jaehyun masterlist

naughty & nice 2020 masterlist

naughty & nice 2019 masterlist

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 4

Tagging @donttouchmycarrots and @sunflowerfox87 who I still can’t believe wanted to be tagged 🥺 

Thank you so much everyone for your support ❤️

And as always, thank you @inloveoknutzy and Nayla for proofreading, you guys are the best  ❤️

My One in a Million Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Morning routines

The feeling of the earth on his bare feet. Long nights playing video games with his friends. Streaming for his fans. Slow sunsets and starry nights. Having the gang at his flat all the time. Relaxing bubble baths. Sunday lunch with the Potters. Making the people who doubted him shove their words up their asses.

Those were all things Sirius Black loved.

Having his brother drilling him at 7 am on an otherwise perfect Friday morning was most definitely not one of them. Not at all.

“I told you a thousand times already, and I’ll say it again one last time. I am not. Going. To that stupid. Fucking. Dinner,” he practically yelled over the phone.

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line.

“Sirius, please. Could you stop thinking only about yourself for once? They want you to come.” A short pause. “I want you to come.”

Sirius grunted lowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Reg. I gave them too much already. I can’t keep giving them more. I’m sorry.” He hung up before Regulus could get another word in and raked both hands through his hair.

Manipulative pieces of crap. They ‘wanted him to come’? What a fucking pile of shit. They had never wanted him there, they only wanted whatever they could get from him, asking for more, more and more, until they could suck him dry. They wouldn’t even be bothering with him if he was of no use to them.

Saying no to Regulus was the hard part. Knowing they were using him precisely because of this, that Regulus himself was using it against him, was almost like a knife twisting in his gut. 

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much, because Sirius still cared about him. He was still his little brother, despite the decisions they had both taken for their lives. But Regulus didn’t see it that way.

Sirius started pacing up and down his room, rubbing a hand through his face as his other went instinctively to his back pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. He hated feeling like this, hated the push and pull that came with his family’s relationships; craving the acceptance of his own blood, wanting to be close to his brother, but also feeling like he needed to get as far from them as he could. Why couldn’t they understand he didn’t want anything to do with the company? Heck, he didn’t want anything to do with most of them, he only kept some sort of contact because of Regulus. Even if his brother didn’t really want anything to do with him.

A flash of pain slashed him in the middle of his chest, and Sirius stormed off to the balcony, a fag already between his lips.

Lighting it up felt like lifting some of the weight off his shoulders. He pictured all of his problems in his head and imagined exhaling them with the smoke, drifting away in the morning sky until there was nothing left of them.

Sirius snorted. He wished it was that easy to get rid of all his worries, but his brother’s voice kept whispering in his ears, no matter how many times he watched the smoke dissipate in front of his face, mixing with words that were not Reg’s but still sounded in his voice. Stop thinking about yourself. You’re such a disappointment. We gave you so much, and this is how you repay us? You don’t care about me. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care.

“Ugh, fuck,” Sirius grunted as he leaned on the rail and let his head hang low, pressing his forehead against the cold metal.

A low sound reached him through the fog of noises in his head. It was a song he’d never heard before, its rhythm slow and calming, and Sirius tried to focus on that to clear his mind and make the voice shut up.

He raised his head, looking at the place where it was coming from, only to be faced with a sight that almost made him drop his cigarette six floors down.

The new neighbor, Remus, was behind the glass doors of his balcony, standing on top of a yoga mat, wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey shorts that were dangerously hiking up his thighs in the position he was currently in.

His arms were stretched on top of his head, his toned muscles making the veins in his arms pop, and his broad shoulders working with the slow movements he was making. There was such a peaceful air about him. His eyes were closed and the sun was drawing golden lines that flitted through his hair as he bent down at the waist to touch the floor, leaving his back exposed.

The freckles on Remus shoulders disappeared below the t-shirt, and Sirius desperately wanted to know just how far they reached. He swallowed thickly, unable to look away. It was mesmerizing to watch Remus transition between poses, his lithe body flowing like water. He briefly wondered if the man was as pliable in other ways, but when his heart rate started quickening, Sirius decided he should stop being a creep and allow his neighbor the privacy he deserved. Before he could tear his eyes away though, a black shadow darted into the room and tackled Remus to the floor.

Sirius gripped the rail unconsciously before he realised it was just Remus’ dog, and he was left breathless once more at the image in front of him.

Remus was laughing as the dog nudged him with its head, two of its paws pressed over those powerful shoulders as Remus stroked the fur at its sides. The man’s eyes were crinkled, his curls falling onto his forehead in a tawny mess that was so cute Sirius thought he might die.

Seeing him smiling like that, it reminded Sirius of the Halloween party almost a week ago.

At first, he’d been annoyed about Lily bringing Remus and a stranger into his home, but that was mainly ‘cause Sirius had been on edge about the whole family drama. He had been looking forward to a chill night with his friends, and having outsider eyes at that moment felt like something that would have made him step on eggshells all night to avoid revealing his identity.

But Remus had proved to be as interesting as Sirius had thought him to be the first time they talked, always taking him by surprise with his comments and reactions.

Sirius desperately wanted to know where the hell Remus had learned to play like that. It wasn’t every day that he was beaten by someone that didn’t seem to have a lot of time for games, even if he’d been overly distracted by his toned thigh touching his own leg. Yes, Sirius had had a hard time concentrating, but he hadn’t slacked off. Remus was good. And Sirius wanted to know how.

He was intrigued by the man in so many ways, his interest peaking with every new little thing he noticed: the gaming, the yoga, his weird way of thinking -Sirius chuckled when he remembered how Remus had thought he was a fucking drug dealer-, him showing up at a party wearing a jumper that was a few sizes too big for him, looking so impossibly cuddly and warm; his relationship with his dog, his relationship with that Leo guy.

As Remus nuzzled his nose into the dog’s fur, Sirius thought about the rainbow coloured bracelet on Leo’s wrist. He admired the guy for wearing the flag so proudly, just there in plain sight for everyone to see. Sirius wished he could do the same, to stand tall, out in the open. But the consequences for him were way too high.

A small, annoying part of his brain felt the need to remind him that this didn’t mean Remus liked dudes. But Sirius took comfort in the knowledge that, at the very least, it meant that he was ok with it. That he wouldn’t condemn Sirius for it.

Sirius reached for a new cigarette, even if he was already feeling calmer, and put it between his teeth, taking a second before lighting it. While he played with the flame of his lighter, he wondered how Remus knew about Padfoot. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to know that story.

His heart warmed, not for the first time, at how Remus had defended Padfoot so fiercely, having no idea that he was right there; no idea how much his words meant for Sirius. Remus had understood him incredibly thoroughly for someone that didn’t even know who Padfoot was. That he was sitting right next to him. And Sirius wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he wanted to find out.

It was no surprise that Remus hadn’t recognized his voice, even though he was clearly a fan. Sirius always hid his accent on his videos to conceal any connection to his family, so his parents wouldn’t intervene and ruin everything.

Suddenly, the music drifting from the room next door changed to a more upbeat one. Remus lifted the black dog up in his arms, something that couldn’t be easy given its size, and hugged it as he started twirling around the room, laughing brightly as he did.

He was dancing. 

With his dog.

And the face he was making, like the animal meant the world to him... How could someone you barely knew be so fucking endearing?

Sirius was still staring when Remus turned around and lifted his head, his eyes locking with Sirius’. He stopped mid-turn, the smile slipping from his face. Sirius felt a blush prickling at his cheeks at being caught basically ogling him, but he waved with an awkward smile.

His only answer was a scowl, even if from afar he could tell Remus was blushing too. He set the dog down, glaring at Sirius, who let his hand drop slowly as he watched the man close the curtains in a slash.

Sirius hid his face in his hands, feeling the heat radiate from his cheeks. How could he fuck up so much? Remus would think he was a fucking creep now. Dragging his hands down, Sirius knew he would have to genuinely step up his game if he wanted to get to know this man.

In the afternoon, Sirius was still pondering ways to get more acquainted with Remus, and coming back empty handed. He didn’t want to just show up at one of his classes, he lived right next door for fucks sake! He should be able to find a way to start up a conversation with him, right? Although Sirius had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of the guy since he’d moved in. Of course, Sirius hadn’t exactly been in the right state of mind to notice him.

But life seemed to be on his side, at least this once. Because when he stepped into the coffee shop where he was meeting up with James and Lily, the first thing he saw was a head of tawny curls.

Barely keeping in his glee, Sirius walked towards Remus, figuring he could just say hi. He stopped dead in his tracks though, when he was just a few steps behind him and he realized Remus was humming the lyrics of An Open Letter to Myself.

“I love that song,” he said without thinking. The man had a lovely voice, sweet and a bit sad, and it made his curiosity peak again.

Remus jolted and turned around with surprised eyes and slightly flushed cheeks, but as gold met silver, his eyebrows dropped quickly over his eyes. Sirius was taken aback by the clear hostility in Remus’ features, which made him stutter as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I... I saw you and thought... I�� uhm... should come and say hi? So...hi,” Sirius said and immediately groaned inwardly at his stupidity. Since when was he this clumsy? 

“Hello,” Remus said in a polite, detached tone before he turned away.

Sirius took a minute to rearrange his thoughts while he placed his order right after Remus. They got their drinks at the same time, and before Remus could walk away from the shop, Sirius scrambled for something else to say.

“Your dog is beautiful, what’s its name?”

The corner of Remus’ mouth tickled up at the mention of his pet, but it was pushed down almost instantly.

“Cocoa,” he replied reluctantly, and Sirius almost spit his tea.

“Cocoa? That huge ass dog has a cute name like Cocoa?”

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was almost pouting. “I just really like chocolate, ok? Besides, he’s just a pup,” he said as he moved over to add some sugar to his chai latte. Sirius followed.

“A pup?” he said incredulously. “How is that a pup?!”

Remus huffed. “He’s only about two or three years old.”

Sirius stared at him in disbelief. That dog was already past Remus’ knees, and if what he was saying was right, he was probably going to grow some more.

“Did you adopt him?” he asked, tilting his head, thinking about Remus’ choice of words. He was focusing his whole attention on Remus, and that was probably the only reason why he noticed the slight stutter of his hand as he stirred his drink.

“Yeah,” he said in a breath. Sirius thought that would be the end of the conversation, but then -as if he couldn't help himself- Remus added, “he was very young when I found him. He was abandoned and practically left to die; his previous owners must have thought it was too much trouble to raise a wolfdog, and decided to leave him tied up in the woods instead of being decent human beings and finding him an appropriate home.”

There was such disgust in his voice that Sirius took a step back while his heart melted into a puddle. Of course he rescued dogs. Sirius was starting to wonder if this guy was even real. He’d been so thoroughly captivated by him in such a short time, it was a bit scary. Sirius hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. He hadn’t let himself feel like this, it was too risky, and he knew it would be more sensible to leave Remus alone and stay away from him before things got worse, but he had felt drawn to him ever since the Halloween party.

“That’s awful. No one deserves to be treated like that,” he replied softly against his better judgement. If things got worse, he’d deal with that later.

Remus’ head snapped up, and for a moment it looked like he was drowning. Sirius had no idea what had brought that expression to his face, but the only thought in his mind was how desperately he wanted to erase it. 

In hopes of doing so, he tried to change the subject to something lighter. “So, you like games, huh? You really did a number on me the other day. When did you start playing?”

The response he got was not what he’d expected. Remus’ expression hardened, and he turned his gaze away as he discarded the used stick with more force than was probably necessary.

“That’s hardly any of your concern, is it?”

Sirius blinked. And then blinked again. Was he still mad at him?

“Look, I’m really sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just-”

“You really think this is all just about this morning?” Remus snapped.

“What?” Sirius was confused. What had he done? He’d made a little fun of Remus the first time they talked, but it hadn’t been that bad, had it? 

“At least you weren’t smoking into my room today,” Remus added with a huff, which made Sirius frown.

He supposed he did smoke quite close to the edge of their balconies, but by the way Remus was talking, he felt like there was more to it. He tried to think of all the interactions they had had so far, but he couldn’t think of anything that would elicit Remus’ anger. His mind drifted to them sitting on his couch with the NHL game, how their shoulders had bumped together playfully, how Remus had even seemed to be comfortable once he got a controller in his hands. It was the only time Remus had acted in a friendly-ish manner towards him, without the scowl that seemed to be permanently weighing down on his brows. But none of his smiles had actually been directed at him, they had all been shared with Leo.

He smiled a lot around the blond, but whenever he was close to Sirius he seemed to be in a bad mood. Sirius hated that.

“What did I do for you to dislike me so much?”

“If you need to ask, it just shows that it’s not even worth answering you.”

Remus turned around and walked briskly to the door, leaving Sirius completely dumbfounded. The door opened just as Remus was reaching for the handle, and he almost bumped into Lily and James, who were coming in. Sirius watched as he nodded at them with a few words, threw one last glare his way, and disappeared in the afternoon sun.

Lily watched him walk away with a confused expression on her face. She glanced at James who just shrugged, and then she looked directly at Sirius with a deep frown. He seemed to be getting a lot of those lately.

“What was that all about?” she asked when they got next to him.

“He hates me, that’s what it was,” Sirius grumbled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sirius stared at Lily like she held all the answers in the world. “He looks at me like I’m the worst person to ever walk the Earth. What did I do to deserve that?”

Lily winced, and Sirius felt his heart freeze where it had melted on the floor.

“Well, apparently, you haven’t been a very good neighbor, have you?” she said gently. Everything started falling into place then, and Sirius suddenly had a pretty good idea what she was talking about. He could be a very self-absorbed prick after a row with his family.

“What can I do?”

“Maybe you should try apologizing first,” she doubted for a second before she kept going. “I’ve heard you broke something important of his on the day you two met.”

“That was him?!” Sirius asked in astonishment, remembering the day he’d knocked someone over in the hall, and ignoring the few heads that turned his way at his raised voice.

“You’re joking, right? You didn’t know?” When Sirius only shook his head, still speechless, Lily stared at him, bewildered. “Sirius, how could you not know?”

“I was so angry at the time Lily, I barely noticed anything I was doing!” Sirius said in a pleading voice. He glanced at James for support, who looked at him in sympathy and understanding. Sirius rubbed a hand over his face. “I just needed to get out of the flat, I couldn’t stand the sight of Reg with his cold eyes and-” Sirius stopped himself, clenching his fists.

It all came back to him. How Regulus had suddenly turned up at his flat, even though he wasn’t supposed to know the address. Even though he hadn’t visited Sirius’ home in five years.

How Reg had looked at him with such clear disappointment, like Sirius was nothing more than a waste of space, and had told him that he was expected to attend the annual Black Enterprises’ gala and fulfill his duty to the family. How he had stated that it was time he stopped acting like a child, with his foolish, selfish dreams, and took his place in the company.

Sirius had never wanted anything to do with the monster corporation that was Black Enterprises. He hated the way they did business and how they treated people, like anyone outside the Black family was trash.

A hand on his shoulder shook him away from his memories before he could spiral down into the hole he’d been in in the weeks before Halloween. Sirius looked up, and found James’ kind hazel eyes.

“It’s ok Pads,” he whispered. “You’re out of there. They have nothing on you, and you owe them absolutely nothing. I’m sure you can fix this.”

Sirius hoped his friend was right.

[sazc94]

Bad Idea, a Bucky Fanfic

A/N Sensitive themes including injury, smut and kidnapping/suggestions of abuse. 18+ Also I'm still new at this so any feedback is appreciated.

Requested by @lannycleave

Prologue Part 2

Words: 3153

Part 1

6 Months ago: NYC Avengers Tower.

You rocked up to the tower with a duffle bag, Natasha had text you to say they had a mission for you, and it would be a 3 day one so to bring clothes. You were an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D not an Avenger. That being said Sometimes when agents were needed you got to go along on their missions thanks to your Friendship with Miss Romanoff and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers. The rest of the time you were on your own missions or helping to train new recruits.

“Hey Y/N, long time no see, did Mr. Roboto scare you off” Joked Sam as he clapped you on your back. You weren’t as good as FitzSimmons when it came to tech, but you held your own, you’d recently helped Sam with some upgrades to Red Wing, that was when you’d been introduced to The Winter Soldier, Sargent Bucky Barnes. You couldn’t help but stare at him when you met him, he was just so, well hot to put it bluntly.

Of course, he had barely acknowledged your existence other than polite conversation before he got called away to a mission.

“Ha, if anyone was going to scare me off it would be you with your creepy obsession with red wing” you winked at Sam before taking a bite of the apple you had swiped from the fruit bowl. Before Sam even had chance to think of a comeback, Tony walked into the communal dining/living area, followed closely by Nat and Steve. Nat nodded her head in the direction of the small briefing room. “That’s my cue” you smiled at Sam before following along.

“Agent Y/N, good to see you again, as your aware we require your assistance for a mission, I’ve been given clearance from Commander Hill, and you come highly recommended from the team. I’ve seen you in action in the training rooms and you seem like a capable candidate,” Said Tony. Your eyebrows shot up, it appeared Tony was running point on this mission, not unusual for the Avengers sure, but all your previous missions with the Avengers had been overseen by Nick Fury or more recently Commander Hill.

“This mission is off the books, I got the intel from Morgan actually, we have reason to believe there is a small cartel family, trafficking young children to Hydra” Tony continued.

“Morgan noticed a new kid at school, acting suspicious, they reminded her of how Uncle Bucky, and Steve are when lifting heavy things” Said Steve. “Morgan said they joined her class out of know where, quietly slipping in as if they’d been in her class all along, then a week later, they stopped showing up.” Concluded Steve.

“So, why do you need me?” You asked. At that moment, the door to meeting room opened and in walked Bucky, he didn’t move to sit down instead pressing himself into the corner of at the back the room. “We need intel” Said Nat. “Basically we need someone who’s not recognizable like me, but is someone we trust, and Y/N if Steve and I trust you then that’s good enough for Tony”. She continued. “Intel, right I can do that, so what’s the plan and where am I going” you asked.

“We’re going to Boston” said Bucky, your eyebrows shot up, you had presumed you were going by yourself. “I may not be The Winter Soldier anymore, but I can still remember some hotspots for HYDRA activity and Boston is their most obvious choice as a few higher ups from HYDRA own property out there” he continued.

“Y/N, we know we are asking a lot of you here, but we trust Bucky to keep this under wraps and we trust you,” Said Tony.

So that was how you ended up in Boston in the middle of October in a small one-bedroom apartment with Mr. Bucky Barnes. There was a fold out couch which Bucky took and left you the bedroom. You had been given Three days to gather as much intel as possible before reporting back to Tony, Steve and Nat on day 4

. Day one had been a bust, you and Bucky had split off to follow separate trails, your paths meeting at the same spot where the trail had gone cold. Day two had gone much better, as your paths had already crossed once you both decided to work on the same lead. Stark had been on to something with the human trafficking, you tracked a lot of vehicle traffic coming into an old gym/leisure center.

Day 3 was when everything changed. You had agreed with Bucky that he would stay back at the apartment whilst you tried to get into the building, you couldn’t risk Bucky being discovered by Hydra and whilst you knew what intel you already had would be a huge lead for Nat and the rest you decided you had come this far you might as well try and see inside.

“You promise you’ll get out of there the second you feel like you’re in danger?” Bucky asked. “Stark might trust me to keep this under wraps but that doesn’t necessarily mean he trusts me and if anything happens to you, I’m sure he’ll find a way to blame me” Bucky said, his blue eyes flickered over with confliction and pain. Before this mission you hadn’t really had much interaction with Bucky, but you could tell he regretted his actions as The Winter Soldier. I put your hand on Bucky’s Vibrainium arm and smiled at him softly.

“ I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, but if I’m about to get caught I will high tail it out of there” you said. (Spoiler alert you didn’t)

“For Fucks Sake Y/N!” Bucky shouted slamming the apartment door shut behind him, he looked pissed, like really pissed. His usually clear blue eyes had thundered over, turning them a deeper shade of blue almost black.

You’d had every intention of getting out of the building if you felt you were in trouble, but then you’d gotten cocky thinking that this could lead to a promotion, even if the mission were off the books if Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were impressed with your work then that would mean something.

Unfortunately, this attitude had nearly cost you the mission. You had let your guard down and not only that you had actually fallen down. You had been creeping along a ledge outside what appeared to be a makeshift infirmary on the first floor. You head voices coming from two windows along and had inched further to try and get a clearer listen, however you hadn’t realized the brick was in poor condition and had already started to crumble away from the wall. T

hat was the moment you knew you’d fucked up because you went barreling down. Thankfully, there was a balcony to break your fall or else you’d have done some serious damage. You also hadn’t exactly been quiet as you fell down the face of the wall, so you didn’t exactly stick around, you snapped a few pictures of the building entrance from the balcony, hearing the voices around the building getting louder you decided to jump from the balcony to the ground floor and just hightail it out of there.

“I know, I know I fucked up” you bellowed. You were in pretty rough shape and you’d had to text Bucky 911 when you were a safe distance from the gym. “I let my guard down thinking I could get enough intel to finally get a promotion within S.H.E.I.L.D or at least get enough recognition to be considered for a position within Avengers” you continued.

The black turtleneck shirt you were wearing was starting to stick to your side. You headed to the bedroom desperate to get the top off. “I don’t need you telling me how badly I fucked up” you shouted slamming the bedroom door behind you.

“Fuck” you hissed, you were in pain and felt utterly humiliated. You pushed your palms into your eyes to stop yourself crying. With a deep breath you whipped of your shirt, deciding to treat it like a band aid and that ripping it of would be better than an agonizing slow peel.

You were bleeding, thankfully not an amount that would require medical attention but enough that you were going to have to put some gauze over it. You really didn’t want to ask Bucky for help so decided to be a martyr instead and clean yourself up in the mirror using the first aid supplies you had packed into your duffle bag.

Thirty minutes later you were admiring your handy work and the feeling pretty pleased with your hard work when Bucky knocked on the door, he didn’t wake for you to respond before opening the door. “Look Y/N I know…” Bucky’s voice trailed off as you stood there in your underwear, in your anger and rush you hadn’t locked the door.

Everything in that moment seemed to go in slow motion as you went to grab a jumper off the bed at the exact moment Bucky’s eyes trailed your body taking in all the scrapes, cuts and injuries on your body. He knew you’d been injured but not to this extent.

“Y/N…” Bucky’s clear blue eyes had thundered over again this time a mixture of anger, concern and (all though you didn’t know it) lust swirled in them. You went to pull your jumper over your head but before you could even pull it on over your arm’s Bucky had closed the distance between you, pinning you to the wall with one arm above your head and the other to your side. You felt your breath catch in your throat, even though he was clearly pissed you liked the feel of him pressed against you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, I cleaned myself up and patched it up fine, we don’t need to tell Nat about it”, you said turning your head away from him, you were protecting your reputation as much as his. Bucky’s eyes softened, loosening the grip on your arms just a touch, you felt a delectable burning sensation where his pressure had eased.

You could feel yourself growing farm under Bucky’s gaze. You’d fantasized about a moment like this since you’d met him that day helping Sam out, sure you’d imagined it would have been under better circumstances and he would have also had less clothing on. Suddenly all you could think about was how much you wanted Bucky. Bucky seemed to sense the change in your demeanor as he gulped. His eyes met yours.

“We shouldn’t… we really shouldn’t” he said his voice coming out at barely a whisper. “Oh, but we should” you said a sly grin on your face. Before Bucky even had time to respond you were kissing him. Bucky’s lips parted slightly welcoming your kiss, deepening it as your tongues crashed against each other.

Bucky released the grip on your arms as his hands danced their way down your body, the contrast between the cool metal arm dragging down your right side to the way his right arm left a blazing trail down your left side. Bucky crushed himself against you as your fingers tangled in his brown hair. You couldn’t help but moan as you felt Bucky’s hard cock pressed against you restricted by his jeans and underwear.

How you longed to reach out and grab his cock and release it from his jeans. Bucky was taking this torturously slow fingering the waistband of your underwear, leaving a trail of blazing hot kisses along your neck.

His cool Vibrainium arm cupped your ass. Something in you snapped and you decided you couldn’t wait any longer, so your hand moved to Bucky’s waistband. Before you could even undo the button on his jeans Bucky had your arms pinned above your head with his Vibrainium arm. He chuckled.

“My my, my, impatient little thing aren’t we” he said between kisses. “You should know by now Y/N I’m the one in charge here, that goes for the bedroom as well as the mission” he said, before you could even process what he’d just said Bucky pushed his hand down the front of your underwear Bucky shoved two fingers in making you gasp at the shock, the pain and how good it felt to have Bucky warm fingers inside you. You whined as Bucky’s fingers did nothing. He let out a slight moan.

“Holy fuck you’re dripping already, just from a few light kisses, just how long have you been imagining a moment like this” he asked. When you didn’t answer Bucky flicked his thumb over your clit sending shivers down your spine, you let out a moan.

“Don’t make me ask again Y/N” said Bucky. “So, so long, since I met you” You said between gulps as Bucky started gently pulsing his fingers in and out of you. Your admission seems to stir a hunger in Bucky, has his thumb finds its way back to your bud, Bucky gently swipes his rough thumb over it, making you whimper, suddenly he’s pushing his two fingers into hard and fast whilst his thumb swipes ferocious circles on your now throbbing bud, your hands clawing at Bucky back.

You feel your cunt tighten round his fingers. Your so close and Bucky can tell. Which only encourages him as he pushes a third finger inside you slowing his pace right down back to slow agonizing strokes. You’re putty in his hands and he knows it.

“You’re only allowed to cum when I say so Y/N” he says as his pace quickens once again, hitting that sweet spot. You had never been so fucking turned on before, but the way Bucky’s fingers played you like a fiddle and had you dripping was something else. It was taking everything in you to hold back your orgasm.

Suddenly just as you felt like you couldn’t hold back any longer and your legs were about to give out Bucky withdrew his fingers, you instantly felt empty. However, you didn’t have to wait long, as Bucky sank down onto his knees, pulling your legs up over his shoulders.

“Now what did I say Y/N?” he asked as he started peppering kisses and gentle bites along the inside of your things. You could barely think straight, and the sudden change had you gasping from the shock and delight.

“I – I’m only allowed to cum when you say so” you stuttered. “Good girl” he replied before picking you up by your thighs. You thought he would have perhaps moved to the bed, but no Bucky pushed your back up against the wall, standing tall with you sat on his shoulders with one hand still holding you up he removed your underwear which was soaked and took one slow lick up your slit, his tongue gentle yet rough at the same time.

“Fuck. Bucky” you hissed. Your eyes fluttered close. “Mm that’s right doll, you just enjoy the ride” he chuckled before he started licking at your bud, Bucky’s pace was frantic like he couldn’t get enough of you, you felt like every single nerve in your body was on fire. You could feel yourself getting close still sensitive from the feel of Bucky’s rough fingers pumping you. You weren’t used to being denied your orgasm, hell most of your escapades had very rarely even managed to get you one orgasm let alone deny you it.

“Please Bucky,” you whispered hands tangled in his hair you weren’t sure how much longer you would hold out. Bucky didn’t respond instead slowing his pace right down again his tongue dragged across your hypersensitive bud you opened your eyes to find Bucky’s blue eyes dark with hunger and lust staring straight at you as a small smirk tugged on his lips, it was almost as if he was staring straight into to your soul.

With Bucky’s tongue still slowly swiping your bud Bucky entered one finger into you, curling up to hit that magic spot, Bucky’s rough finger combined with the licking and sucking was almost too much and just as you felt like you couldn’t take any more….

“Y/N cum for me” said Bucky, that was all it took and suddenly you were screaming his name as you felt your orgasm crash over you, wave after wave as your cunt pulsed round Bucky’s finger.Bucky lowered you from the wall onto the bed, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Keeping his eyes on you Bucky popped the button on his jeans and unzipped them shimmying them along with his boxers down his body. His cock sprang out and you couldn’t help but lick your lips, it was magnificent, and you wanted nothing more for it to fill you.

However, Bucky had other ideas first. He leant down and pulled you towards the end of the bed when he straightened up you were at eye level with his waste, Bucky noticed the glazed look in your eyes and how transfixed you were with his dick, he chuckled all though the look you were giving was shooting straight to his cock, he was going to enjoy all you had to offer and make you work for it if you wanted his dick to pound your insides.

Bucky nudged your mouth open with his cock, you parted your lips and Bucky slowly pushed his cock into your mouth he was bigger than you realized and it took you a moment to adjust you took a breath and then slowly you dragged your tongue all the way up his shaft, lazily sucking his length you brought your and up to the base of his shaft moving in tandem with your mouth, your pace started to quicken hollowing your cheeks. Bucky moaned.

“Fuck Y/N you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, so fucking pretty” Bucky said tangling his Vibrainium hand in your hair whilst his right had gripped your shoulder, Bucky bucked his hips fucking your mouth. You drew your head back and licked his throbbing dick with little gentle kitten like licks before taking him back in all his glory into your mouth. Just then your phone rang you were going to ignore it until Bucky’s started ringing from the front room, Bucky seemed to snap out of whatever haze had taken him over and removed his cock from your mouth and quickly pulled up his boxers and jeans before walking out of the bedroom avoiding your gaze the entire time.

You felt your heart plummet and tears started to gather in the corner of your eyes, you furiously swiped at them taking a deep breath before getting up to answer your phone. Tony’s name flashed up on the caller id.

“Tony…” you said

[gaitwae]

Forget the Woman •||• Loki x Reader

"Bartender," the scraggly stranger asked. "An ale, and your finest maiden."

"I don't work for free, swain," the bartender (father, and innkeeper) spat, cocking his head. "Either ya has the money now, or you don't get nothin's more, ya understand?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," the man said, straightening in his seat. He set his dagger down into the table. The seal of the royal family glittered in the candlelight of the tavern. It caught your eye, the green and silver weaves of the Asgardian knot on full display. Your eyes widened in surprise, as did the innkeeper's. "Shall I ask again, or will you fulfill my wishes?"

"Who are ya?" the innkeeper questioned. "What does ya want?"

"I want many things, but at the moment, I want ale and a woman, now get me what I asked for, or you'll not have a very happy week." He thought for a moment, a dangerous expression on his face. His sharp jawline displayed itself from his hair and his hood; it could cut diamonds. "Or perhaps I'll gut you here, and save you the... ah... embarrassment of this establishment being burned down."

"Who are ya?" your father repeated.

"I am Prince Loki, Odin's son," the stranger said lowly. "I have the seal to prove it, and I have my brother outside waiting, what more proof do you need? I am wearing the finest Midgardian silks, gold from Vanaheim, and a sword from Niflheim." Prince Loki leaned forward. "Need I repeat myself, again?"

You saw your father's face turn into a stony, surprised expression: one of fear. You felt oddly stimulated, seeing a man who intimidated your father. Especially one who was roughly your age. "I'll get ya tha' drink, Prince," he said, rushing off.

"Don't forget the woman!" he called after him with a laugh. You swallowed. That was when the prince caught your eye.

You never forgot the look he gave you. Hunger? Surprise? Delight? Anger? You had no way of knowing. There was no smirk or smile on his face, just the expression his eyes told. You felt your face heat like there was a flame beneath your skin, and your ears suddenly felt too warmed by your hair. Your father always made you wear it down, and you knew that it may be all over the place if the prince had his way.

"Come."

His one word was compelling. You obeyed, whether you knew if you wanted to or not. The prince removed his hood from his head, letting his raven-colored locks spill out onto his shoulders. He took the black gloves off of his hands. He set them in his lap; your eyes followed his long fingers until you saw his legs. Long. This man was naturally tall.

You gulped.

"What a pretty bird this tavern has," he whispered with a silver-coated tongue. You looked down at your feet, nervous. You didn't want to see what color his eyes were, or you would never look away. Your father wouldn't want you flirting with royalty—even by accident. "What is your name, little sparrow?"

"My name is (Y/N)," you answered in an almost-inaudible tone. He laughed—a beautiful laugh, too—and tilted your chin up.

"Is this little bird for sale?" he asked. "Or does she come free with the drink?"

"Your Highness, I don't know for sure," you said. "I don't know if I even have a prince—price." Your palms became sweaty. You were already stumbling on your words. "Can I get you anything, sire?" Your hand flew to toy with your necklace. It was a nice purple pendant, and it glowed in the dark when you needed it to.

"Well, that innkeeper is getting me a drink... but you can get me a kiss, or perhaps a night." He smirked broadly. "I'll take you as my woman."

"But—"

"No buts. Your prince commands it." Prince Loki stood up, grinning wider than he had. He loomed over you, in your dirty, scullery dress, and he took your hand. His was so much wider than yours.

"Sire, my father is the innkeeper," you managed to tell him. "I'm not sure how he would feel by letting me be—..." You had to cut yourself off, and your sentence trailed trying to find a less vulgar word. "Letting me spend the night with someone of your stature... a kitchen maid wouldn't be proper for a prince—"

"A harlot isn't proper for a prince, either," he said, cutting you off with a small capture of your lips by his. You touched your fingers to your mouth, shocked. Wait. More than shocked. Flabbergasted. "I'd rather have the kitchen maid with more honor."

"Your Highness, I need my father's permission," you said. "And my fiancé's."

The prince's face twisted into horror. The thing was, you couldn't tell if it was because of what you said or because of his actions. You didn't know whether or not it was good or bad. You didn't have the slightest clue why the prince would even care if he was suggesting unmarried relations to you.

Prince Loki stood as tall as he could, wiping his eyes. "Fiancé? Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have asked; of course, a little thing like you would have a betrothed."

"Excuse me?" you whispered softly. You felt a little offended, and you didn't know why. It wasn't like you asked to be engaged to some man you hardly knew. No one could afford to marry for love in the middle class or lower—you just hoped you could grow to love that person you were paired with.

"I mean no disrespect," he said, sitting down. "I just find you so beautiful. Of course your father would have already found a suitor for you. A man driven by desire is often a fool, you see."

You just nodded. You didn't dare sit in the presence of royalty. You didn't even know what to say. You could say one wrong thing and you'd die, you knew that for certain. You'd seen it happen. Everyone did. Everyone knew.

"You must tell me," Prince Loki said, resting his head on his fist, "who this betrothed of yours is. If he's wrong to you, I want to kill him."

"What?!"

"You heard me, sparrow, I want to kill him." His chest rose in a soft but large inhale. "Now answer me."

You were trying to work the lump out of your throat out. You couldn't exactly answer. You hadn't met him before, exactly, only seen him talk to your parents.

"What's wrong?" he laughed gently. "Cat got your tongue?"

You nodded.

Loki chuckled. "Have you met him?" His eyes skirted around your person: your eyes, your lips, your chest, your hips. You pressed your skirt down, trying to forget he was looking.

You shook your head. In response to his question. You never met your betrothed.

"Then there's no way he could love you," the prince announced. "You can spend a night with me, surely."

"Your Highness," you mumbled, "love isn't a luxury I can afford. As for the night with you... I am flattered... But I cannot."

"One night. It's all I want."

"Ask my father." You curtsied and sat down behind the bar.

The prince exhaled deeply, looking at you. He seemed fixated. You stared into those... oh, those eyes... They were blue. Sapphires. Gorgeous. You melted. He leaned in a little. You felt drawn to him. Loki moved your hair out of your face.

"One kiss...," Loki whispered.

You felt yourself nod... against better judgement... you pressed your lips to his. Loki held your face close, kissing you deeply; kissing you hard. You kissed back, leaning over the counter to reach. He stood up and cupped your face with both hands.

He pulled away, and kissed you four times sweetly, quickly, like he could forget how a soft peck felt. You blushed and pulled away. "My prince..."

"You enjoyed that," he laughed quietly, seeming drunk off that kiss as well. You nodded. He kissed you, again. "I'll get a room. Come to my bed if you want something better than those kisses..."

You couldn't speak. You just kept nodding, nodding, nodding... He smiled and went to get his ale from your father. Your blood ran cold. Your father would kick you out.

You stood up. You couldn't resort to being some sort of... of whore... Especially for the prince. You scurried up to your room in terror. Regret.

---

"Prince Loki, I says it again, ya not to have my bairn," you heard from downstairs. "I already promised her hand."

"I can make her a princess, she would be well off and happy." Your heart began to hammer. Princess? What?

"Happy? Ya can't guarantee tha'."

"That other man hasn't met her. I have. I have the means, the right, to marry your daughter."

MARRIAGE!?

"Forget the woman," your father said firmly. "She is already promised."

A large sigh. "A deal, then."

"Aye?"

You held you breath.

"I shall return in a week. If she hasn't been married off by then, I wish to take her if she will have me."

You sped downstairs. You were your father's only daughter. Who else could they be talking about? You peeked from the stairs.

"(Y/N) is me child, I want what's best for her..."

"Father," you said, piping up. "I want to marry the prince."

They both turned. The prince had a grin, your father was surprised. You came down to face the men.

Loki took your hands. "You do?"

You nodded. He grinned brightly. You smiled back. "I do."

+-+--

"I do," you said, holding Loki's hands at the altar. He smiled down at you.

"You may kiss your bride."

You leaned up. He kissed you back.

You lived happily ever after.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

Happy Yato Day!

Fanfic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13936397/1/The-Stray-Cowboy

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33158902

It was ironic that a little dusty down in the middle of nowhere would bear the name “Heaven,” especially since it’s been declining since her grandmother’s time. The town was built around a large natural spring that has been shrinking ever so slightly each year while the buildings only grew taller. Hiyori strolled down main street, her heels kicking up loose dirt which dusted the frills of her pink dress. Her father, the only doctor in town, had let her go for the day, giving her a break from replacing her run-away brother at the clinic. So, after visiting her friend, Ami, at the fabric store, and Yama out with the horses, Hiyori made her way to the saloon.

The building was two stories and housed a bar, a small stage, and tables with different games other cowboys could gamble on. Since this town held so much water and resources, it was a common place for vagabonds of all types to stop in and rest. The Inn was right next door, owned by the bar owner’s husband, it’s front often tied with horses. Hiyori’s eyes scanned the beasts for a familiar black mare with a short mane but was disappointed when she saw none. She entered The Lucky Lady, the batwing doors swinging behind her, eyes adjusting as she ignored the cat-calls.

“Hiyori!” The bartender called like they haven’t seen each other in years. The Lucky Lady, a spunky night-time-dancer named Kofuku, waved her friend over with a dirty cloth.

“Good afternoon, Kofuku,” Hiyori gave a short curtsy before taking a seat at the bar, “where’s Daikoku and Yukine?” She asked as her eyes scanned the bar, finally adjusted to the darker space.

“They’re tending to some of the horses behind the Inn. Yuki’s getting good at changing shoes you know,” Kofuku mused as she wiped down the bar, “although they’re not really who you’re looking for are they?” The comment shocked Hiyori out of her scanning. The teasing glimmer in the young woman’s eyes sparking a fire across Hiyori’s cheeks.

“Well! He did say he was coming back today and he’s supposed to be handling my job!” Hiyori sputtered. She crossed her arms with a huff and looked towards the door, waiting for the black silhouette of a certain hitman-turned-messenger-and-bounty-hunter. Unbeknownst to her parents, Hiyori had hired the man to find her missing brother. It felt off to put a secret bounty on her own brother, giving it to an enigma of a man recommended to her by Kofuku and Daikoku, but he’d stopped sending her letters almost a year ago and it had her worried.

“If there’s someone you want found, dead or alive, he’s your man,” The Inn owner had growled, “just don’t get too close.” The gruff man scoffed when his bubbly wife waved off his warning. Of course Hiyori was the strong, intelligent daughter of a doctor, who practiced cattle roping with her brother. She didn’t judge just based on one reputation, Hiyori had to see for herself. Especially with the reputation that particular cowboy had. No, if it weren’t for Yukine then Hiyori would have never hired him.

“Yukine!” Hiyori called when the boy in question walked in from the back. The young teen pulled off a black cutter that was too big for him, and revealed a puff of blonde hair. His hazel eyes popped up and he smiled at the sight of her.

“Hiyori!” He greeted, giving Daikoku the hammer and nails before heading to the bar. Yukine was one of the few people in this town Hiyori didn’t know since birth. Now, she didn’t know the whole story- the boy in question refusing to tell- but she did know the place he came from was not a very kind one. That, for one reason or another, the cowboy she hired to track her brother was the same one that saved Yukine from that place as a toddler. They traveled together since then, Yukine being dropped off at Kofuku’s place so the man could go on more dangerous jobs. Just like now. It was during those times, Hiyori had gotten to know the boy. Even early on, when Yukine would throw tantrums at being left behind or run away from strangers.

“He’s still not here yet?” Yukine sighed as he took a seat next to Hiyori. The boy gave a curtsey scan around the saloon, knowing the man’s figure too well to miss it.

“Sorry Yuki, he said more towards the sun down,” Kofuku reminded them of the last letter the messenger pigeon brought them. The blonde, becoming more and more like a teenager each day, scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, well, he better get here before Sheriff Bishamon gets back from her trip to the city. Otherwise he’ll just get chased out again.” Yukine soured at the thought, ready to hit the open road again. Hiyori knew a bit about how he felt. She’s felt the need to leave this dusty place, to hop on a horse and ride off into the sunset with nothing but your wit and a couple bullets at your side. But she could never do that to her parents, not like her brother did. Instead she lived through the stories Yukine brought back with him, after the cowboy in black strolled into Heaven like he owned it.

“How long is the sheriff gone for?” Hiyori asked. If the sheriff caught the man sneaking into town there would be a shotoff on sight.

“Oh who knows. I asked Uncle Ebi to keep her there for as long as possible so,” Kofuku shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll buy you two enough time to catch up.” The pink haired woman winked causing the two younger patrons to sputter with disgust.

“Don’t be gross! Hiyori could do so much better than that dusty rattlesnake!” Yukine hissed, insulting the one man he deemed as blood family. Still, the statement jolted something within Hiyori. A boxed up secret that’s been locked up tight since the man in question last rode out of town.

“Hey yeah! Our little Miss Hiyori still has a courtship with that gun dealer from the city,” Daikoku suddenly walked behind the bar, giving his wife a kiss on the head.

“Ukk! You mean Kouto? Hiyori, don’t tell me you’re still seeing that as-donkey,” Yukine quickly muffled his cursing, remembering he wasn’t out on the open road with a not-so-great role model. Daikoku raised a brow at the kid, muttering out a mental note to have a word with the kid’s kidnapper.

“I am not ‘seeing him,’ it is a one-sided courtship at best! One that I do not plan on pursuing,” Hiyori stood suddenly, face red enough to pass as sunburn, “so if you’ll excuse me. I’ll be back after dinner to see if-.” The young woman stopped short, half way from the bar to the door, when she realized the saloon had gone silent. Someone was approaching the planked doors, the sun casting a shadow across a smirk that could steal a golden fiddle from the devil. The room fell into hushed whispers as he pushed open the door and approached Hiyori with careless saunter. The various weapons and coins hidden among his long black coat clinked as his brown boots thudded against the squeaky floor. Since his hat was left in the care of a blonde boy, there was nothing obscuring his sharp gaze from meeting hers. The white ascot around his neck covered his grin to the others in the room, helping keep up with his dark and bloody reputation. If only they knew how sweet he really was.

“Hiyori,” his drawl was rough from breathing in nothing but hot desert dirt but she found his dust-smudged cheeks just as endearing. His blue eyes and smile didn’t waver from her, even as the men closest to him raised their hackles and fixed him with narrowed eyes. The cowboy stopped directly in front of her, much too close for an upper class employer and some hired vagabond. But despite the towns and names he’s buried six feet under, Hiyori met his eyes with a straight back and a confident smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, Yato.”

“A pleasure, Hiyori,” he chuckled. The two shared a moment for less than a second before a barstool behind Hiyori squeaked with movement.

“Finally! About time you got here!” Yukine said. Regardless, the kid was off his stool and across the floor in an instant, arms crossed and hat off, waiting for Yato to ruffle his hair. Which Yato did. Until he pulled the kid into a large hug, encasing the small boy in his leather coat with a happy laugh.

“There he is! My baby Yukine! Have you gotten smaller? Or bigger? Definitely bigger, look at those arms! Turnin into a big strong man now! Gone for a season and look at you! Did you keep my hat nice and safe like always?” Yato gushed.

“Blegh! You smell like horse shit and sweat! You disgusting loser! Get off me!” Yukine hollered, squirming out of Yato’s hold and shoving the man’s hat back in his arms. Yatolet the boy go, satisfied that the bar’s paterons went back to their drinking and card games. Hiyori could understand, having a cute child by his side made Yato look a little less like the hitman he once was. The boy stomped back to the bar, Yato smiling after him.

“Ya heading out?” Yato asked, placing his hat back at home on his head.

“Um nope! No,” Hiyori said. Yato’s smirk quirked back on and he nodded his head to the bar, pouting when Hiyori declined his offered arm.

“Oh Yatty! We missed you!” Kofukue leaned over the bar, her corset popping a string, as she pulled him into a hug.

“Hey Kofuku! Glad to be back,” Yato squeezed her, “thanks for watching the kid again.”

“Yeah, well, the kid’s welcome here anytime. You, on the other hand, got a long tab to pay.” Daikoku grumbled by the taps.

“It’d be easier if you just let me go with you,” Yukine said, haughtily. The kid watched the man that saved him take a heavy seat on the bar, removing his iconic twin shotguns from his shoulders and laying them on the wood. Hiyori took a seat on the other side of Yato, eyeing the long, silver double barrel guns. Her gaze tracing tiny flowers engraved on the metal. She knew without looking that the wooden butt of the guns had the names “Sekki” and “Setsu” carved into them when he was Yukine’s age. Of course, Daikoku’s rule about weapons on the bar went ignored as Yato gave Yukine a side eye from over his pint.

“Death Valley is called ‘the underworld’ for a reason, kiddo. It’s too risky for a youngin.” Yato said.

“I’m not a youngin! I’m fourteen!” Yukine spun on the stool, “and you were even younger when you started out.”

“Not by choice, Yukine.”

“Okay but I’m choosing to.” Yukine’s eyes narrowed even more when Yato just scoffed and took a large swig of cheap beer.

“Come on, Yato! You said it yourself, I’m turnin’ into a man now. I’ve been traveling with you for nearly a decade! I know how to shoot and lasso and care for horses and where to look for gold and know when it’s gonna rain! You taught me all of that and you always say when I’m older you would keep me with you all the time! On all your jobs, so why?” Yukine almost pleaded, frustrated. Hiyori bit her lip and looked from Yukine to Yato.

“Because I thought this one was going to be particularly dangerous. You know I don’t want you seeing that,” Yato finally said, setting his glass down with a clink, “besides, I was just going to poke around and gather information. If there was anything solid I’d come get you.”

“Is that right?” Yukine asked, unconvinced.

“‘Course. It’s not like you missed anything big. I just went around, did the normal askin, followed a couple hollow rumors, then came back. You would have been bored anyway. Why? You think I would lie about it?”

“Do I think you would? Yes. Cause you lie to make me feel better. You do it all the time.” There was a beat that no one commented on. Hiyori couldn’t bring herself to see Yato’s reaction to that attack on a very recent wound.

“Well that clearly isn't the case this time is it?” Yato said, then sighed and softened his tone, “there really was nothing Yukine but I just wanted to be sure. There’s no law in the underworld and I don’t want you anywhere near that place.” The man finally turned and fully faced the boy he claimed as his own. Yukine regarded Yato for a couple moments longer, just as water started to rise over his hazel irises. Suddenly and harshly, Yukine got off his seat.

“If you don’t trust me to have your back and you don’t want me around just say so. Stop coming back already.” Snarled Yukine. He left the saloon and Hiyori knew he would be heading to the Inn where one of the rooms was permanently his and Yato’s. Beside her, Yato chugged the rest of his beer then slammed it back on the counter with a sigh. Daikoku chided him and took it, wiping it clean with disdain.

“Don’t worry, Yatty. He’s at that age. Yuki didn’t mean it, he just missed you and rather go on your adventures than stay here,” Kofuku offered.

“That’s what he doesn’t get. They’re not adventures,” Yato scratched his neck, “I’m out of bullets.” The implication silenced the young women.

“Still, the boy’s right about one thing, he’s growin up. Can’t tell him what to do forever,” Daikoku eventually butted in, placing a new mug of beer in front of Yato.

“Watch me,” Yato pouted. That got a small giggle out of Hiyori which might have quirked the tip of Yato’s lip just a little. Kofuku and Daikoku hummed and shared a look. Eventually, Yato downed the rest of his drink before getting up.

“Hiiro is out back. Needs a bath,” Yato said.

“Pay for your beer.” Daikoku answered.

“Put it on my tab,” Yato knocked on the bar.

“Like hell-”

“Okie dokie, Yatty! See you at dinner!” Kofuku waved. Yato pointed at her with a finger gun, clicking as his thumb mimicked the hammer. He grabbed both gunstraps and lazily swung the weapons over one shoulder. Taking two steps, Yato looked over his shoulder, one blue eye meeting hers from under his hat.

“You comin?” Yato tilted his head. Despite the looks their friends gave her, a large smile grew on Hiyori’s face and she happily hopped off the stool.

“Yeah!” She followed the cowboy in grungy clothes out the bar and into the Inn. Since it was still late afternoon, the place was just about empty. The wooden rooms and wool sheets too hot on a summer day. Hiyori took a deep breath, feeling free from the stares of others in town with nothing to do but spread rumors. Still, she was very aware of the man standing behind her, always a bit too close, and she turned to face him. Hiyori would have to wait until later tonight to hear his tales. Yato was too good at telling stories and always insisted on drawing to go with it. Once Yukine finishes reading and goes to bed, Yato and the rest of the town congregate at The Lucky Lady for drinking, dancing, and music. It was then that Hiyori- and sometimes her teasing friends- would get Yato to herself.

“How are the folks?” Yato broke the silence.

“They’re okay. Since the water’s been going, my father’s been trying to find ways to give strong medicine that uses less water.”

“What a coincidence,” Yato hummed, “every lead I tried to follow on your brother ended up being about the water crisis.”

“You think he’s following the drought?” Hiyori asked, urgently.

“Couldn’t say. He’s never struck me as the heroic type, to go galavanting off and save the world; but it is suspicious. Unfortunately, once I got deep in the drought debacle his name would vanish,” Yato shrugged, “it’s all anyone’s talkin about.” At some point Yato’s shoulders slumped and Hiyori sighed. This was the fifth time Yato came back with dead ends. It wasn’t his fault. Not only was he right- in that her brother was known to ride by the seat of his pants- but the job required him to stay away for long periods of time. Tracking someone like that kept him away from Yukine and other people who missed him. Still, disappointment hung her head.

“I’m so sorry, Hiyori. I promise I’m going to keep looking.” Yato put a hand on her shoulder and Hiyori took it in both of hers.

“What about Yukine?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna to take him this time around but- I just don’t know where this leads. And you know how he is. You’ve seen him loiter around the school house in the past. I just don’t think it’s good for him to be growin up on the run.” Yato mumbled. He twinded their fingers together and the box inside her jolted again, but settled when he did nothing more.

“Daikoku’s right, you know, every day it becomes more and more his decision.” Hiyori offered him a small smile. He blinked at her before the cocky smile Yato was known for grew across his lips. He brought their hands up and pressed a light kiss to the back of her glove.

“I’ve missed you, darlin’,” he said. The box inside her was getting harder to keep closed, memories of his previous visits flashing across Hiyori’s eyes. Really, she wondered if Daikoku knew she failed to heed his warning. It was no wonder people caught her staring at that horizon and sighing with longing.

“Yato,” Hiyori tried, pulling her hand slightly but not letting go. A look of hurt flashed across Yato’s face- so familiar to her own when she watched him leave and come back with new scars- and Hiyori almost wanted to hit him. But instead his eyes quickly darkened and he squeezed her hand.

“Don’t tell me you’re not a filly anymore? That gun smith with the cheap products gotcha or are your parents makin you drag your rope?”

“None of that!” Hiyori huffed. She took her hand back and turned around, arms crossed.

“Not that it has anything to do with anything! Since I hired you to find my brother while-”

“While you stay here and take his place and care for the family business and not go off with Kouto because that would be leaving ‘em behind,” Yato repeated, “come off it, Hiyori. Your parents are adults and you have your own life. Just admit you want to have your own adventure.”

“And where do you suppose I go? Just to wander around by myself? Or were you planning on taking me and not Yukine?” Hiyori whirled on him, tired of this do-si-do of a conversation.

“It’s too dangerous with me,” Yato said through grit teeth, hat tilted to cover his knitted brows.

“So what then? You’ll drop us off in random towns while you go back and forth?” Hiyori threw out without much of a bite. There was a moment of Yato staring at the floor and Hiyori rolled her eyes. Of course the fool of a man would think that was a good idea. She stepped back in front of him and reached under his hat to pinch his cheek.

“Ow!” Yato flinched away. He rubbed his cheek like some little kid who got a light smack and Hiyori snorted. How did she once fear him? His pout was back but not for long, blue eyes softening at her laughter.

“I just want you to be happy. You only get one life you know,” Yato said, hand dropping from his cheek.

“And I’ll decide what I want to do with it. Just like Yukine.” Hiyori’s reminder quieted the cowboy down.

“I just don’t want to drag him into another one of my mistakes. He deserves better.” Yato said. Hiyori frowned, reminded of Yukine’s earlier comment.

“He doesn’t blame you.” She offered. About ten years ago, when Yato traveled with a group of bandits who’s name struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it, they rode into Yukine’s place of birth. Hiyori had met Yukine, seeing Yato in passing now and again, she came to understand Yukine’s memory of that night was hazy at best. That was until a year ago, Yato first took off to find Hiyori’s brother, and the boy’s memories resurfaced. He confronted Yato, learning the fate of his birth town.

“I know he doesn’t blame me but you saw how he was. How he gets when I pull the trigger. I worry he’ll grow to resent me.” Yato sighed, “you know, I remember that night like it was yesterday. I was young and he was so tiny, the town was burnin down all around us, his loved ones were bloody behind ‘im. Just as I turned Hiiro around to run, he ran after me with his little arms up. I scooped Yukine up without thinkin and took off in the opposite direction of the group.

“I don’t know how but Hiiro and I managed to run for an entire night and I didn’t put him down for one second. It wasn’t until Hiiro finally bucked us off that I realized he hadn’t moved. I- haha- I actually thought he was dead and I had been carryin’ ‘round a corpse. But when I looked down, his head buried in my chest, he peaked up at me with big doe eyes. No tears, no fear. We passed out right there in the dirt. I thought he’d be okay but he didn’t speak at all. I was gonna drop him off at the next town but I just-. He wouldn’t talk- barely looked at me- but was stuck to my side like he was made of molasse or somethin’.” Yato was staring off into the distance, not realizing he was still talking. Hiyori watched and listened quietly, as she often did. Something must have happened in the underworld and she wanted to let him cope. Twelve people was twelve too many for a kind man like him.

“The little bastard grew on me. Starin at me while I babbled, sleepin on my tummy, clutchin my coat and tuggin to sit up front. Honestly, when I stretched, he stretched, I pissed, he pissed, I cleaned my guns, he’d use a stick, when I held onto the reins, he’d grabbed ‘em too,” Yato sighed again, voice wavering, “But he was so nervous around me, jumpy. Always looked at me to make sure he could move even an inch- wouldn’t even eat until I told him to. He deserved better. I figured Kofuku and Daikoku would want him to raise as their own. When I got here and I thought he was comfortable enough, I mounted to get ready to go but he came running out crying. Sobbing even. His arms up at me. That was- that was the first time I heard him speak. He said ‘don’t leave!’ And I just couldn’t. Sure I stayed for a year or so but I couldn’t keep out of work that long. And he used to be okay- happy even- when I’d give ‘im my ascot or hat to keep safe till I came back.” Yato’s eyes were covered but his lip trembled before he bit it, trying to control his breathing.

Yukine’s recent confrontation about that day- the accusations and disappointment Yukine regretted saying- scratched every wound of guilt Yato felt. It was hard to smile for a child that looked up to you while you blamed yourself for his circumstances. It was even harder to keep leaving. They did make up, as they always did, but it had been a painful experience that Yato still hasn’t forgiven himself for; no matter how much Yukine reassured him.

“Yukine remembers everything and still choose you. He looks up to you, Yato, and loves you just as much. Yukine’s not going to suddenly regret everything and leave,” Hiyori put a hand on his chest, “and neither will I.”

“I don’t know about the ‘look up to’ part but uh,” Yato swallowed thickly around a wobbling smile.

“It’s true, I can tell,” Hiyori leaned in to whisper, “you know he calls you his dad when he talks about you.”

“He does not!” Yato gasped.

“We promised not to say anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Yato looked down quickly then back, “and what do you call me when I’m gone.”

“Saddle Bum,” Hiyori stated.

“Yeah,” Yato sighed, “you got me there.” He huffed out a laugh which only got stronger the more they looked at each other.

“We should probably get Yukine,” Hiyori suggested.

“You’re right,” Yato said, “as usual. Bested again by Miss Iki. Just can’t argue with you, the lush oasis saving me from my weary travels.” They made their way up the stairs and down the hall of bedrooms.

“That’s right, you can’t. So stop trying.” Hiyor playfully huffed.

“Yes ma’am,” Yato swooned. Turns out Yukine wasn’t in their room and instead was around the back of the saloon to tend to Hiiro. By the time the two moseyed around the two buildings, Yukine had washed down the horse- the mare really loved water- and was cleaning her hooves. Hiiro was a short, exceedingly loyal, black horse who hated when her mane got too long and had the most fickle personality even with people she liked. Her ears twitched as her rider walked towards them, shifting back and forth, as Yukine leaned against her hindquarters and scrapped at her back hoof.

“You were right, you really do have the hang of that,” Yato whistled. Running his hand along her clean hair. She snapped at Yato but nickered when Hiyori patted her pink nose.

“She doesn't like it when you do it,” Yukine shot after a couple beats.

“Of course she does,” Yato said, skirting around the horse. Hiyori chose to stay by Hiiro’s front, watching Yukine give Yato a quick glare over his shoulder.

“So, when are you leaving?” Yukine growled. Hiyori tried not to suck in air too loudly as Yato’s wide eyes flickered to hers then back.

“N-not for a while. Gotta go over the clues and make a more solid plan,” Yato’s boot kicked the dirt, “I’m gonna need your help with that. Like always,” he tried. Yukine was not impressed, hardly sparing Yato a scoff.

“Why bother? It’s clear you don’t trust me to watch your back.” The blonde muttered. Finally, Yato’s hands fell out of his pockets and his attitude grew into something more serious.

“What gave you that idea?” Yato followed the kid around to the other hoof, brows knitted. This time, Yato was ignored and the cowboy tapped the kid with his boot.

“Yato,” Hiyori warned under her breath.

“Hey,” Yato tapped Yukine’s side again, “would I have given you twin pistols if I didn’t trust you with them behind my back?” The tip of his boot nudged one of the revolvers at Yukine’s hip, silver twins just like Yato’s, named “Blessed” and “Burial.” That got the teen to look up at Yato, frown still in place.

“No,” Yukine mumbled.

“And you know why? Cause you only give-”

“Cause you only give weapons to those who have your back and disarm those who don’t, I know,” Yukine parroted.

“I need to get more phrases,” Yato muttered as he scratched his head.

“But giving weapons is not the same! I want to be with you! I want to do all the same things you do, by your side! I mean I’m supposed to be your-!” Yukine bit his lip and quickly refocused on Hiiro’s hoove. Yato’s eye brows rose to his hat for a moment before a grim expression took root.

“I killed twelve people in the last four months,” Yato stated. There was a beat of silence as the wind pushed a tumbleweed across the ground. Yukine tried to hide the shock- the horror- that shot across his face, but Yato caught every inch of it.

“So what?” Yukine spat weakly, “you act like I’ve never seen someone die.”

“I don’t want you to see anymore.”

“Well that isn’t your choice is it? Or do you not want me to be like you that badly? I was there too, you know.” Yukine finally snapped, whipping around to glare at Yato. There were tears in his eyes, boiling with frustration, but no one commented on it. Yato couldn’t think of anything to say and Hiyori clenched Hiiro’s reins. The mare was getting restless with her rider’s change in attitude.

“I know you were there and I’m sorry,” Yato confessed, “I’m not anyone you should strive to be. You don’t have to be anything for me, you don’t owe me nutin.” He kicked at the ground again and Hiyori wanted to roll her eyes. Honestly, such a fool of a man.

“I know that,” Yukine muttered too, now just as embarrassed, “I’m not trying to owe you. I just think-” the boy’s face rose in temperature and neither man could look at each other or address their feelings. Eventually Yato let out a huge sigh mixed with a groan.

“Well, everyone’s telling me what a man you are now and that I gotta let you make your own decisions. Can’t keep you caged forever or that won’t protect you in the long run,” Yato finally relented.

“So I can come? With you?” Yukine sprang to his feet, “and you’ll stop dropping me off here? I can be with you for every job?” Fists balled Yukine stood on the tips of his matching boots to stare wide eyed at Yato. The man blinked again, something fragile crossing his eyes before he smiled.

“Suppose so. Unless you want to come back, which you can any time,” Yato said.

“Yes!” Yukine suddenly remembered he was supposed to be an adult and straightened out, “and you promise this time? No tricks? No lies? No gimmicks?” He pointed up at Yato who finally snorted out a laugh.

“Nothin of the sort, o partner o’ mine,” Yato held up a hand, ��honest.”

“Both hands,” Yukine narrowed his eyes. With a scoff Yato held up both hands like he was at gunpoint.

“I swear it,” Yato vowed, “on my only son.”  Finally the dam broke and Yukine went back to his beaming smile.

“Yes!” Yukine pulled at his own ascot, “I won’t let you down! I promise!” The boy crouched to gather his materials only for Yato to crouch with him.

“I know you won’t, you’re my kid after all,” Yato took off his hat and put it on Yukine’s head, smushing it down with a laugh, “and I’m mighty proud of ya.” The two boys shared a laugh and Hiyori finally turned and gave them their space.

“But chu-know, we gotta get you your own hat. The tips of my ears are all crusty,” Yato gripped.

“Just get a different hat!”

“It’s my hat!”

“Then don’t leave for so long!”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just get your own hat.”

“I had one! Before you made me drop it in the river!”

“Oh I made you, yeah okay, and who made you that hat in the first place?”

“Well you should-” Yukine continued to argue, back with his old spunk. Hopefully they would get to spend some time together before she watched the two of them leave this place behind. That painful tug in her chest was getting harder to ignore.

Until a gunshot sounded across the desert and embedded itself in the dirt. Hiiro reared into the air, letting out a cry of alarm as Yato and Yukine readied their arms. Hiyori immediately ran to the back of the buildings and hid behind a small pile of crates. While shoot outs didn’t happen as often as they did in other towns, they were enough for her to know what to do. A tall figure stepped gracefully off of a blonde, raggedy stallion, high heel boots crusting the dirt beneath. Another couple figures in matching law uniforms dismounted but didn’t ready their weapons. Instead they eyed the standoff with wariness and annoyance. Hiyori sighed and stepped out from her hiding spot but stayed several feet away. Bent at Yato’s side, Yukine stood but kept one gun pointed, sharing a nod to the deputy sheriff across the way, who did the same. Meanwhile, Yato’s smile shifted to a dangerous grin which was replied with a snarl.

“Skank.” Yato greeted Sheriff Bishamon.

“Vermin.” The blonde growled in return. Deputy Kazuma tried to calm her, reminding her that Yato’s previous transgressions have been pardoned and he has yet to cause another. But his pleas went unheard. The two took slow steps forward, guns steadily aimed right between the eyes.

“You got nerve showin’ your face in my town,” Bishamon said.

“Why’s that? Don’t tell me it’s not big enough?” Yato joked. This didn’t go over well, the woman took a shot in front of Yato’s feet. The man yelled some sort of curse as he stumbled back, pushing Yukine behind him despite the kid’s protests. Yato’s gun remained pointed, trained by experience. Though the cowboy was clearly at a disadvantage, the sheriff having two bands of bullets criss-crossing over her chest.

“Come on, I’m just here for some good drinks, a fun time at Kofuku’s,” Yato said, “besides, shouldn’t you be on vacation? Aren’t you back a little early?” The man took another step. Hiyori’s fists tightened as she saw the hand signals Yato was giving Yukine from behind his back.

“That deviersion you had Miss Kofuku do? To have me run to her uncle while you tried to sneak around in my town? Not a chance.” Her eyes hardened but Deputy Kazuma already had a hand on her gun. It wasn’t until Yato’s eyes slid to meet Hiyori’s- the question clear in his expression- that the box from deep within shook and burst open. The confirmation she gave was with the tiniest of nods and their eye contact was over just as fast as it started. In an instant the situation changed; Yukine had mounted Hiiro who rose to her hindlegs with a loud cry and soon Yato was up too, shooting at the law’s horses to scare them. While Bishamon was distracted, Yato took the reins from Yukine and drove Hiiro towards the young lady.

“Wha-? What are you doing? You idiot!” Yukine was already turned around, guns pointed behind them, watching Yato’s back. The kid went ignored, Yato had his eyes trained on Hiyori’s, intense stare eclipsing his grin.

“Come on!” Yato held out his hand. Hiyori moved without another thought, grabbing his hand and letting herself be yanked on the thundering black stead. Her body fell roughly across the blackened cowboy.

“Wait!” Hiyori cried as they dashed around the corner and down the main road, “what about our-? My things?” Her concerns were covered by wisps of her hair and Hiyori had to brush them aside to see Yato throw his head back and laugh.

“Relax! We’re just taking a stroll until the armadillo-woman cools off,” Yato looked down at her and winked, “we haven’t danced at Kofuku’s yet right?”

“Gross! Stop being such a creepy old man! You’re lucky Daikoku even lets you back into that bar!” Yukine yelled at them. Yato’s laughter was contagious and soon it spread to Hiyori, the young woman clinging to the cowboy as he took her on an adventure.

[neverdoingmuch]

I’m here for the ‘swords not as pets’ agenda. Swords as cars: solid, get you from place to place, potentially dangerous, customizable, something people name. Wwx losing his license taking the fall for a mistake jc made (idk, dui maybe?) and just choosing to mod the hell out of a self-balancing scooter or segway or something so it goes dangerously fast. Alternatively: spending 3 months inventing the first functional actual levitating hoverboard, with an insane top speed. 3 months in the (1/2)

sawdfert this is delightful!! i saw segway and i immediately started wheezing,, there was no time for laughing i went straight to the wheezing. i think it would make more sense if wwx lost his car and got a motorcycle? like hoverboards and segways are cool but motorcycles have that big reputation of being dangerous and there’s the whole ‘rebellious teen gets a motorcycle and becomes a delinquent’ thing? like motorcycles are fast and if you crash it’s so much worse than if you were in a car and there’s no airbags or anything. but also?? wwx rocking up to school on a segway while playing his flute like the shittiest entrance ever? iconic. but let’s stick with chenqing as a motorcycle/scooter (motorcycle-esque scooter not the ones that try and take out your ankles).

okay so all the major sects are super rich so in a modern au it would make sense for all the sect heirs to get cars. i’m not saying that jc and wwx complain about jzx being stuck-up bc he was given a porsche for his birthday even though they were also given cars for their birthdays,,, but i am. at first it would have been this major point of contention between yzy and jfm bc wwx isn’t even their son so why is he getting a car too but wwx is like ah it’s so i can drive jc and jyl to school! you wouldn’t want their cars being left outside the school all day would you? someone in my maths class had their car get keyed and it was super expensive to fix,, and yzy is like yes wwx may have a car only to protect my children from parking hassles,, also wwx must pay for his own parking. so wwx and jc both get given cars for their bdays.

now wwx gets bored easily,, so you could translate him being a cultivation genius to him being really good at driving. im talking that jc is still getting the hang of switching gears and wwx is out there casually drifting around corners. (this does mean he has to get new tyres really frequently but he’s friends with wen ning, whose family runs the mechanics that wwx likes to go to so he just helps around the shop for a bit and gets a discount (yes its the family discount)). anyway wwx really enjoys driving, also! he just rocks up to wen ning’s place one day and is like dude, i wanna pimp my ride, wanna help and wen ning is like heck yeah. so wwx pays for some upgrades with his own money and he spends hours doing some custom work to make it look cool,,

it’s all going well until wwx and jc go to wen chao’s party one night and jc gets absolutely sloshed,,, like completely hammered. wwx had walked in, grabbed a cup of lemonade or something and was gonna hang with his friends but lwj was there for some reason so he spent the entire night talking to him in the back garden. which means that when jc wanted to leave he saw wwx hanging out with lwj and went ew gross and just decided to drive home himself. he crashes and when wwx comes home the next day jc gets super pissed at him bc he was meant to be the designated driver and if he hadnt been screwing around with lwj jc wouldnt have tried to drive home and now his parents will be super pissed and wwx is like woah chill my grandmother is a mechanic and she can fix this up just give me a couple of days. 

so wwx goes to baoshan sanren mechanics (which is just the back entrance to the wen sibling’s mechanics) and spends the next three days getting rid of all of his customisations and mods so his car looks exactly like jc’s. does he cry when he has to spend like five mins spraying the inside of the car with axe body spray to get the jc stench going on? maybe a little. but he does it and returns the car to jc! and jc is like oh wow my car is fixed, your grandma is a miracle worker and wwx is like haha yeah (:

anyway wwx mysteriously and suddenly discovers a passion for public transport,, it’s a good way to stay humble jiang cheng, he says, also i used all my petrol money buying porn from nhs or whatever. anyway wwx is doing the whole pt to school thing but then one afternoon wen chao and wzh find him and idk maybe the party got too rowdy so the cops came and wc got in trouble with his dad? he assumes wwx called the cops on him so he shoves wwx into his car and drives him out to the middle of no where and dumps him in the burial mounds scrap metal recycling place or whatever. 

the train line isn’t running that day and there’s no phone service either so wwx is stuck there overnight. he gets super bored. so what does he do? he finds an abandoned scooter and starts scavenging for parts. he’s not expecting it to actually work but by the time the sun rises he’s found some actually decent parts and he thinks that he could get it working. tbh he kinda forgets to go back home and just walks into town to buy some food and then goes back and continues fiddling with the scooter. he doesnt live there for the three months but the people in yiling just accept that this random teenager has all but moved into their scrap heap and adopt him anyway. so he goes and visits the burial mounds every day after school so none of his friends or family really see him anymore. 

until! one day he rocks up to school on his scooter. scooters,, are kinda like sad pathetic motorcycles,, but wwx mods his scooter with like a powerful engine and new steering and everything so people see it and go oh! a motorcycle! even though it’s not actually (can you do that with a scooter? idk but suspend your disbelief pls). so lwj is like hnnngg wwx in a leather jacket on a motorcycle but also wei ying, stop riding a motorcycle, *enter statistics about motorcycle crashes here* and wwx is like no! you cant take chenqing away from me. and jc is pissed bc they were meant to be brothers and have matching cars and be able to work on them and give them cool paint jobs together! but now wwx has this bike which has been modded to hell and back and refuses to drive his car bc it’s not as cool as his bike. so we get to have the whole ‘everyone thinks wwx is doing something dumb and dangerous’ bc he has a motorcycle and why isnt he just driving his car anymore? but we also get to keep some of the nuance of the demonic cultivation bc yeah it’s more dangerous than driving in a car but wwx doesnt have a car anymore and scooters are a loottt safer than motorcycles (if my two seconds of research is correct).

so! wwx won’t abandon chenqing and he did most of his work using scrap parts so he goes back to the wens and is like wen ning my best bro check her out and he’s like oooooooh and they start modding chenqing together. wen qing doesnt know why wwx is constantly over at their shop all the time but jc keeps arguing with wwx and wwx grows more distant with his family and friends bc he’s making ~bad decisions~ and a motorcycle is a gateway to idk teen delinquent shenanigans like smoking and doing graffiti so he’s kinda ousted from respectable rich people society and wen qing is like i have two (2) brothers now and they’re adorable not that i’ll ever tell them that. and wwx modding chenqing got him a reputation in yiling like everyone saw him walk in one day and then drive out with this sexy sexy bike so people start coming to him for mods and stuff and wwx earns the title yiling patriarch and wen ning, his trusted best friend and helper, gets called the ghost general bc idk he helps a lot but the customers never meet him. so they become some dynamic duo for car and bike mods!

anyway,, yzy delivers him an ultimatum one day: the car or the bike (or more accurately: the family or the bike) but wwx can’t drive the car anymore so he just gets quietly disowned and drops out of school. (we’ll save jzxuan the suffering in this au he can keep his car). he goes to the wens and theyre like hey whats up? wait no you cant live in a scrap heap,, not even if you buy a tent,,, just live with us please. and then wwx gets adopted by the wens and idk i want them to have a happy ending so wwx and wn go off and do some actual mechanic and modding training with some expert (sqdcfgt imagine if it was the real baoshan sanren who just happened to be in the market for some apprentices and saw wwx and wn’s work and was like them and then later realised it was her grandson). so they get their apprenticeship and they disappear off somewhere for a year or two - when wwx had been disowned he’d deleted everyone’s contacts and was like if they text me i’ll add them back but im not gonna have a contact list cemetery. (no one contacts him). 

eventually the 13 years pass and wwx has been helping the wens raise their little nephew a-yuan who is showing a real aptitude for being a mechanic even though he’s just a kid and just generally enjoying the quiet life of being a mechanic while doing fun mods and lil baby projects. then one day lwj’s car breaks down while he’s driving through the area and he calls up the local mechanic and guess who rocks up? it’s wwx. and then we get to have them dance around each other and wwx being like lwj doesnt trust me, he’s just sitting here and watching me work all day ): and lwj is like dont let him go dont let him go dont let him go,, and eventually they get their romance but this is way too long already so im im gonna end this here

i didnt mean to make this an entire au but i adored your idea so much anon so i kinda had to!!

[maribatshipper]

Miraculous 39 Clues

Lillian glares with her dark eyes at the picture of the Ladybug-themed heroine. The heroine was lying on the ground with her arm twisted into an unnatural shape after a fight with one of these akumas. Lillian picks up her phone & calls a cousin of hers.

"Dan, I'm going to Paris. I need to speak to Stone." Lillian growls.

Dan asks, "Why? What's wrong with him?"

Lillian frowns, "Not what's wrong with him, what's wrong with the city he lives in. Check a site called the Ladyblog. You'll see why. I have to look out for my fellow Janus."

Lillian hangs up as she buys a ticket to Paris, running her hair through her burnt amber hair.

***

"STONE!"

Jagged Stone winces. He's always known about his heritage & everything that went on. He preferred the love he got from people when they heard his music compared to the backstabbers he called his family & their obsession with the clues.

"Lily, what are you doing here? In Paris?" Jagged asks, his pale-green eyes hidden by some glasses with 2 Eiffel towers & Paris' flag incorporated into it.

"Why didn't you tell the Cahill's about the situation in Paris? Those of us who are good could have done something to help the heroes of this city. They clearly need all the help they can get, & who better to help than an entire family of spies, inventors, artists, & jocks?" Lillian glares at the much older man.

Jagged sighs, "The Lucians have a base here & said nothing. You've seen the reports, Lillian. The heroes are just kids. I was turned into a rockin' villain. What was I supposed to do? Call the entire family over to get us all akumatised when they find out what's going on?"

Lillian glares, "No, you're supposed to warn us about Paris & about keeping emotions in check! The Lucians here are fools for not bringing this to our attention! Our branch is supposed to share information with the rest of our branch! This is something that has to be taken to the head of our family! This Hawk Moth character could be a rogue Cahill, or a Vesper! If this guy is a Vesper, our whole family needs to be warned about him! No matter how much we hate each other, we don't leave other Cahill's to deal with Vespers. What if he's like Peirce? What then, Stone?"

Jagged sighs, "You're right. I haven't been thinking clearly. So un-rock'n'roll of me. But this isn't something that can be fixed with the master serum. Cahill's can't face against the power of these jewels called Miraculous. Even with that serum. These Miraculous are more powerful than anything, & they should be kept out of our family's greedy hands."

Lillian frowns, "But we could help. We've had exper-"

Jagged whirls around, "Not with this! We've never had any experience with this! This is dangerous, Lily! No matter how genuine our talents, we can't help them against this! I know it's un-rock'n'roll, but that's what it is, Lillian!"

A knock comes from the door. Jagged breathes a few times & opens the door to see a familiar face. Jagged's face stretches into a giant grin.

"Marinette! There's my Rockin' designer! Whatcha got for me this time?" Jagged asks.

Marinette smiles, "Well, I designed you some new glasses, because the ones you have right now are starting to fall apart, since I didn't really have the best materials when I started that, but these new ones should last at least for a few years, & I have a small-scale of that poster you asked me to do, & I need to just adjust your outfit for your show tomorrow. Oh, I also have some stuff for Fang. It's all in my backpack."

Lillian walks up to Marinette & studies her, a suspicious glint in her eyes.

"Who's this, Stone?" Lillian asks, not taking her eyes off of the teen.

Jagged smiles, "Lily, this is my best designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, this is a relative of mine, Lillian."

Marinette smiles & holds her hand out to shake with Lillian's, only to fall when her backpack bursts from being overfilled. Lillian's eyes widen as Marinette collides with the ground. She crouches down to help Marinette pick the stuff up, only to catch her eye on an open design book. She picks up the design book. Her eyes widen at every design. Marinette panics as she sees this & grabs the design book quickly.

"I'm so sorry. I'm madly clumsy. Those are just rough sketches-"

Lillian smirks, "Rough sketches? If those are rough sketches, the finished product must be good enough to go to heaven, Dupain-Cheng."

Jagged stares at Lillian in shock. She is harsh, cold, & not one you'd expect compliments from, even if she is a Janus.

"Stone, I need to talk to you." Lillian grabs Jagged's arm & drags him away from the confused blue-eyed teenager.

"What is it?" Jagged asks, rubbing his sore arm where Lillian's nails were digging into his skin.

Lillian frowns, "She's got the skill of a Cahill with the Janus serum. Does she know anything about the Cahills?"

Jagged shakes his head, "Not a thing. Her mother is most likely a Tomas from China, even though she is small. I saw her in action when Penny was akumatised. Her father is a French baker, & she designs clothes, posters, glasses, she could design a coat for Fang if she wanted to."

Lillian holds a dark coloured hair between her fingers & smirks, "Let's see if she is a Cahill."

Jagged gapes, "How did you get that?"

Lillian laughs, "Stone, I'm a Janus who's been taught at each of our branches bases & in each art. Canada, Hollywood, Venice, any base there was, I've been there. I've done what our ancestors did. We test this. If it comes back positive, we train her in the Janus ways. If not, you don't have to worry about anything."

***

Marinette was confused when this strange teenager who was somewhat older than her dragged her favourite singer away with such authority.

"What was that, Tikki?" She whispers to her little purse attached to her hip.

The quiet being in her purse answers, "I don't know Marinette. She radiates an artists' soul, but she seems so..."

Marinette offers, "Standoffish?"

Tikki chuckles, "Yeah, but there's something more to her than that."

The two older artists come back, Jagged cowering slightly when Lillian looks towards him. Tikki stays hidden in the purse.

"Do I wanna know what that was?" Marinette asks.

Jagged laughs, "It wasn't really anything Rock'n'roll to talk about."

Lillian nods, keeping an eye on the teen.

"So, Marinette, what are your interests?" Lillian asks.

Marinette smiles, "Well, I'm really into fashion, I even design & sew my own clothes. I'm really good at video games, especially Ultimate Mecha Strike 3. Then of course there is music, I mean, I listen to Jagged's music all the time while I'm sketching out designs, his music inspires me! Unlike XY. Bleh! I even designed the costumes for Kitty Section, & I've made so many different outfits, & I'm starting my own website, but I really don't know if it's a great idea with so much stress at school, & akumas, & of course I'm class representative for my class."

Lillian smirks, "I think I'll visit your school, kid. See how well you do in a place like that."

Marinette panics, "It's really no biggie, I just have a lot on my plate."

Lillian smiles, "Either way, I'll be visiting. I gotta go to my apartment. Remember, Stone. I will be telling."

Jagged nods, confusing Marinette.

"Am I missing something here?" Marinette asks.

Lillian smiles, "Nothing to worry about, kid. See you at your school, Dupain-Cheng."

Lillian walks away with a dangerous looking smile on, which scares Marinette slightly.

Marinette suddenly asks, "Does she even know which school I go to?"

***

Lillian checks the test results of the hair she plucked from Marinette's head earlier. Lillian calls Jagged.

Jagged sighs, "Well?"

"It's a match. She's Janus alright. But she's also Lucian & Tomas. Test result says 5% Lucian, 5% Tomas, & 90% Janus." Lillian smiles.

Jagged sighs, "Check her classmates & parents too."

***

A month has passed, & Lillian gathered as much information about the Dupain-Chengs as she could. Marinette's mother, Sabine, is the Cahill with genes. The father, Tom, is a Tomas, which Lillian thought was funny. The only issue? Neither parent knew that they were part of a giant family spreading all across the world. Marinette's grandmother Gina seemed to at least know something of the Cahill name.

Lillian sighs, "I can't believe they don't know a thing about us."

She looks at her research notes on the classmates. All of them have tiny bits of Cahill DNA except Cesaire and Bourgeois. When she visited with Marinette that one day, the kids seemed sweet, but Lillian's a Janus. She can tell when someone's acting. There was one that was acting the most. Her acting was spot on, except for one small issue. She couldn't keep her stories straight.

"Well, miss Rossi, you are about to get a few dozen lawsuits delivered right to your school in the middle of your class. You shouldn't have messed with Marinette. You mess with a Janus, you mess with a powerful enemy. Now to get the kid trained like a Janus."

***

Lillian shows up to Marinette's school again & points out a flaw in one of Lila's stories. She then walks to the bathroom, where she has laid a trap for the fox.

"Hello. Lillian, right?" Lila fakely smiles.

"& you must be Splenda." Lillian smirks.

Lila asks, "What?"

Lillian explains, "Artificially Sweet. Like Splenda. Fake sugar. Drop the act, I can smell the Lucian on you!"

Lila actually seems surprised, & asks, "What's a Lucian?"

Lillian looks through Lila for any sign of deception, but she sees that Lila actually has no idea what she's talking about.

"Of course. That makes this so much easier. Keep away from Marinette, or I can guarantee all your fame will disappear."

Lila drops her Façade & smirks, "How could you possibly do that? Everyone here can't resist when they hear what they want to hear. There's nothing you can do about it anyway. You don't want to be my friend, fine, but I'll make sure no one here wants to be your friend at all. You're a little less dumb than the others, so I'll give you one chance. You're either with me, or against me. You only have until the end of class to decide, Lillian."

Lillian giggles, then full out laughs.

"Oh you poor, delusional soul! I don't want to be friends with anyone here except Marinette! & thanks for saying that. Now I have all the proof I need!" Lillian smirks.

Lila asks, "What do you mean?"

Lillian smirks, "You'll find out."

***

Months passed, & Lila's entire empire toppled once lawsuits were coming to her in public for defamation & slander, & Lila was also sued for abuse. Marinette got paparazzi swamping her, asking about how long Lila had threatened her, but Lillian kept Marinette away from the Paparazzi with practiced ease. Marinette had found out how she was related to many important people. Lillian trained her, causing Ladybug to defeat villains much quicker, & Cat Noir stopped showing, not that it bothered her. Cat Noir stopped even helping, acting childish every time Ladybug denied his feelings. Ladybug decided to pick a new hero, a new fox. The new fox made everything easier on Ladybug, & even stole Cat Noir's ring & gave it to Ladybug after his first week.

Ladybug smiles, "You ready for patrol, Corsac?"

The new Fox smiles, his red hair with white tips blowing in the wind. He was also a Janus, which is why Ladybug chose him for the fox. One needs a really good artistic mind to use the fox power.

Corsac's blue eyes widen in happiness.

(I couldn't find one with white tips. Imagine they're white.)

"Of course, Ladybug."

A/N: While reading Miraculous Salt fics, I suddenly had the thought, “What if the 39 Clues universe was part of the Miraculous Universe?” And this came to life with a prompt. I can’t remember the prompt, but I’m happy with how this came out. 

Okay... so... I ran out of really cool fox names, so I actually googled Fox species, and there was only 2 cool sounding ones. Culpeo and Corsac. Can anyone guess who Corsac is?

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (44) Rejecting

Ao3 | FF.net

Despite Adrien’s absolute meltdown, Gabriel still insisted everyone eat together as a family. Sabine did her best to keep the food warm as Adrien collected himself. But ‘collected’ was the barest sense of the word, as he came downstairs, still puffy-eyed and sniffing. Luckily, Marinette was right there beside him, holding his hand tightly. 

It was a pasta dish for dinner. Adrien really didn’t pay attention to what kind, he just spent a long while twisting his noodles on his fork. 

“So,” began Emilie. “Your father tells me you started going to public school! I knew that was something you wanted to do, but I was just never sure if you were ready. I’m proud of you for getting out there! It can be really nerve wracking starting at school, but I heard you have some really great friends! I’m so happy for you!” 

Adrien didn’t look at her, and his expression only tightened. 

“It’s okay. Your father said you’re not really talking right now. I don’t blame you. I just wanted you to know that I want to know all about all the things you did while I was gone.”

Adrien hunched over in his seat, curling over his plate and nursing his bad arm to his chest. Why must he be tortured this way? 

Marinette on the other hand, watched this exchange with scrutiny. The softness of Emilie’s tone was surprising, but refreshing. Whenever Gabriel had tried the comforting parent routine, his tone usually ended up sounding more condescending than tender. He had his moments of course, but not like Emilie. She spoke to him, not at him. She wasn’t prying to get an answer either, just speaking to him very casually. And the way she looked at him was different too. 

It was all love. 

Talking with Adrien earlier, he had disclosed that he was confused and hurt by Emilie’s sudden appearance. He didn’t understand why she had shown up so suddenly after all this time. If she was fine, why hadn’t she contacted him? If she loved him so much, why did she disappear without a trace? 

Things just didn’t make sense. She seemed like a very kind and warm woman, and for Adrien’s sake, Marinette hoped that she truly was. But for the moment, she’d continue to hold her skepticism. 

“Marinette,” Emilie addressed her. “Gabriel says you’re interested in fashion?”

Ah, so she was trying a different technique now? “Uh, yes. I am. That’s what I was hoping to go into…well, I was before…” 

“I mean, even if you can’t make a full time career out of it, it’s still a very good hobby to have! When Gabriel was your age, he made all of my clothes! I never had to go shopping and I was the envy of all the girls in my class.” 

“Emilie—“ Gabriel tried to interrupt. 

“He gets all embarrassed about it when I mention it now, because he has ‘people for that sort of thing’.” She mocked her husband’s voice, prompting Sabine to let out a snort. “But I saw the wedding gown he made for you. Gorgeous! You designed it though, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, I had a sketch of it in my sketchbook. I…I think I mentioned it on camera, and he found the design.” 

Emilie gasped at her husband. “You went through a girl’s sketchbook without her permission!?” She whacked him. 

“Ow! Woman! Stop hitting me!”

“Once you learn some manners, I will! But until then, I think I’ll have to beat them back into you!” Then she laughed. Adrien’s laugh. That unrestrained, joyful sound that you couldn’t help but smile at. Then she smiled, and it really all came together. If Adrien was sunshine, Emilie was a 200,000 mega watt lightbulb. Her joy filled the room, literally making it warmer and brighter. 

Like even though her family was falling apart, she was just happy to be with them. 

“The second you both feel better, you have to let me see your super suits! I’ve been catching up on the blog, but there’s no real good shots of the details. I want to know everything! Does your yo-yo double as a purse? Do the tail and ears move on their own?” 

“Don’t overwhelm them, Em.” 

“I can’t help it! My baby boy! A superhero! It’s so exciting!”

“I, for one, think it’s dangerous.” Gabriel argued. 

“Well, of course it’s dangerous! That much is obvious!” She gasped. “Oh Marinette, he showed me this clip of Adrien, not transformed, being thrown off the side of a building by a King Kong knock off! Do you know how pissed off that made me?! And don’t even get me started on when he became a glitter statue! Honestly, if it wasn’t for you, I would have lost him several times over!” 

Marinette gave a soft, patient smile that she hoped came off in gratitude, and not betraying her current thought, which was, ‘you still might lose him.’ “He’s saved me several times too. He’s got my back, for sure.”

“Oh I’m so glad to hear that!” She clapped. “A healthy marriage is built on teamwork and trust. Just from the clips I’ve seen, it looks like you guys are oozing with it.”

Adrien scooted his picked-at plate forward. 

“Adrien, you barely touched your food.” Said Sabine. 

He stood, pushing in his chair, and walked out of the room. 

Marinette glanced over to Emilie to gauge her reaction. 

The woman was just on the verge of tears. 

“Madam Agreste, can I have a word with you?” She asked, standing. 

“Of course dear.” 

Emilie allowed Marinette to lead her into the parlor and shut the door. “Alright. Spill. What’s your angle? Because if you’ve come to get Adrien to trust and fall in love with you all over again before bouncing without a trace, I will personally hunt you down and kill you. My body count is over 40, and I don’t mind adding to it for his sake. Understand?” 

Emilie looked at her wide-eyed, before exhaling calmly, “well, I’m happy to see you really do care about Adrien as much as you say you do. I don’t plan on going anywhere, Marinette. I promise.” 

“And so I’m just supposed to take you at your word? He cried for an hour!”

From upstairs, the pair could hear the clattering of books and other heavy items being thrown around again. 

“Look at what you’re doing to him! You better explain yourself now, or not even Mr. Agreste will let you stay in this house.” 

“Marinette,” Emilie said sternly. “I didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t my choice.” 

“Then whose was it?”

“No one chose what happened. Gabriel and I…we made a mistake. A huge one that I had to pay for. I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. I didn’t even get to ask for it. I—“ She glanced towards the door, not knowing who was listening on the other side. Then she shook her head. “I’m trying to be gracious, but this is Gabriel’s fault. I still love my husband, but he has a lot to answer for, especially to you both. I asked him to do so before I came, but he chickened out, I suppose. I can’t blame him…I know he wouldn’t want Adrien giving him the cold shoulder the same way he’s giving me.”

Marinette blinked several times. “What are you even talking about? Stop being so vague!” 

“I really wish I could, but I can’t. I don’t have all the answers, and Gabriel really should be saying all of this. I just…I think you’re super cool and really great and I want you to like me. Selfish, I know. But I just wanted you to know that I’m not the bad guy here.” 

“That sounds like something the bad guy would say.” 

Emilie smiled slightly. “Fair, I guess.” She rubbed her hands on her thighs. “Once Gabe comes clean, I swear this will all make sense.” She paused. “Even in this time where little does for you.” 

Marinette inhaled sharply. “So you watched it then?” 

“Not all of it. Not yet.” She cast her gaze to the floor. “None of it live. Only after you were found was I even told what was happening.” 

Marinette frowned. “Did Gabriel know where you were?” 

Emilie paused, considering her answer. There was really no way to soften this blow. Once it all came out, he wasn’t going to be forgiven anyways. “Yes. He did.” 

Marinette swallowed harshly, tears pricking at her eyes. “And he never told Adrien?” 

“No.”

“Didn’t you ask him to?” 

“Marinette…I was in a coma. I couldn’t do anything.” 

Well. That made sense. And it didn’t. Why did Gabriel have to hide that she was in a coma? Why would he hide it from his own son? 

“Tell Gabriel I expect him to explain himself immediately.” She snapped, before turning face, and briskly leaving the room.

—  

Upon returning to Adrien’s room, Marinette met the welcoming sight of her own mother comforting Adrien. 

“It’s alright honey, we’ll pick it all up.” 

The room was an absolute disaster zone. Anything that wasn’t bolted to the floor or wall was turned up turned, inside out, or smashed. Including the TV and computer. 

Plagg floated over to be at eye level with Marinette. “Destructive tendencies. You wear the ring long enough, certain things come through. No one bats an eye when you make something, but when he breaks something...he’s been bottling this up for a while.” 

Adrien sat on the floor, in the middle of all this chaos, and covered his face with his hands. 

“It’s just stuff.” Marinette comforted. “Stuff can be replaced.” 

After the high of absolute destruction, came the crash of guilt. And Adrien wallowed in it like a shallow pool. 

“You know what you need? An entire living space renewal! New paint, new sheets, new decor! Not what some interior designer thinks is you, but what you want! You, Adrien, the person who lives here!” Sabine gestured broadly to the room. “And if it has to be a little messy, then that’s you! What do you think? Wanna start a project soon?” 

Adrien didn’t answer, just crawled over to the bed and under the sheets from the end of the bed, slinking his way up to the top, and settling there. 

“We’ll assume that’s a yes.” Marinette said. 

“Alright. I’ll see if I can convince the manager of the building.” Sabine winked. “If either of you get hungry, there’s more pasta in the fridge downstairs.” 

“Thanks Maman.”

“Of course, baby.” She kissed Marinette’s cheek, and then found Adrien burrowed under all his haphazard sheets and gave him a kiss too. “‘Night.” 

“‘Night.” 

Once she was gone, Adrien let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if I can remodel my room. It’s so big.” 

“You won’t have to do it on your own. And if you like it the way it is, you don’t have to.” 

He sat up slightly to look around at the whirlwind of anger. “I think it’s slightly better this way. But...I don’t like this room. I never have. It’s too sterile. Too cold. Too empty.” 

“I agree.” She joined him on the bed. “Even here with you, I feel...vulnerable. Like I’m sleeping in a gymnasium instead of a room.” 

“Exactly. It’s so open.” 

She reached out and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. “Maybe…we’ll have to see, but maybe we can move to my house instead?”

Adrien turned to look at her, eyes searching her face for intention. He only saw comfort. “You sure? You wouldn’t mind sharing your room with me?”

“We might have to reorganize it a little. Make it a little less pink and girly. But yes, I’d love to share my room with you.” 

He snuggled right up to her, almost spooning her. “I love you. And I think your room is super cute. We don’t have to change anything.” 

“Too bad, we’re going to change things up. Whatever you want, just say the word.” 

His exhale fluttered her bangs as he let go of her hand to hold her around the waist instead. “In that case, I want a jacuzzi. And a wall that looks like a big lava lamp.” 

“Well, we can probably get a lava lamp. And we have a bathtub in the bathroom.” 

He shrugged, “I suppose that will have to work.”

They laid like that for the rest of the night, discussing the changes to make to Marinette’s room. Most of them were absurd and silly, but some of them were doable. 

“We should suspend a flat screen TV from the ceiling by the bed, so I can play games at night.” 

“We could put directly on the ceiling, so we can watch TV before bed.” 

“Let’s install a fireman’s pole from the balcony into the room, so we don’t put our shoes on your mattress.” 

“We should at least get another desk in there, so you have a place to work.” 

“Bunk desk, right on top of yours.” 

“That sounds dangerous and uncomfortable.” 

In the back of her mind, Marinette knew that this moment was going to be interrupted by Gabriel. She desperately wanted him to come clean about whatever the hell was going on. So it was her job to keep Adrien feeling optimistic until he came. 

But he never did. 

When Adrien’s sentences were peppered with more than one yawn, they took turns showering, and then prepared for bed. 

While she was disappointed he still hadn’t come forward, she couldn’t help but be a little relieved that neither of them were going to sleep crying tonight. 

Once Adrien was all fresh and clean, he snuggled her right up against his chest, nuzzling her neck. “Good night, My Lady.”

“Good night, Kitty.” 

—

She stood on that rooftop, watching the scene below her as she had hundreds of times. The long shadow accompanied the voice of her greatest failure, cast by the too bright headlights on the car. 

Ladybug clenched and unclenched her fist, watching as the young man begged for his life. 

Run. She told herself. This one is not worth it. Please just run.

But this had already happened, and there was no erasing the past. So she stood and waited, waited for her opportunity to face the man that would be her downfall. Edward Savauge, normal man. No Miraculous, no akuma, just a sick twisted heart and too many strings to pull. 

A noise brought her out of the flashback, a snapping noise of a foot on plastic. 

She blinked once, twice, and stared at the mess of Adrien’s room in the bare lamp light from outside. She twisted in her sheets, making Adrien whine as he was dislodged from her side. 

Only after she turned around did she realize they were not alone. 

She sat up quickly, cradling Adrien’s head to her stomach. “Who’s there?” 

The shadowy figure in the corner of the room by the window didn’t come any closer. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

“Tikki, spots on!” 

The flash of Pink light not only woke up Adrien fully, but it illuminated the figure for a moment. Ladybug’s face grew pale under her mask. “Hawkmoth?” 

Adrien muttered his transformation phrase as well, and crouched, ready to attack. 

“That’s really not necessary,” Hawkmoth spoke, taking only one step forward, kicking some DVD cases out of the way. “I have no intention in fighting.” 

“Is that why you snuck in while we were sleeping?” 

“I simply wanted privacy, and I had hoped if you were tired, you’d be more willing to talk before fighting.” He walked over to Adrien’s desk and flipped on a lamp, illuminating him in all his unholy glory. 

“So what do you want?” Ladybug spoke, coming to sit at the end of the bed. “We’re grateful for all you did to save us, but we’re still not going to give up the Miraculous. We’re sworn to protect them.” 

“Of course.” Using his enhanced strength, Hawkmoth righted the upturned couch, facing it towards them, and took a seat. “You’ve proved that you are more than perfect for holding your Miraculous. I would be crazy for trying to take them away. Besides, I have no need for them anymore.” 

“Are you turning yourself in, then? You helped us escape, but that doesn’t get you off the hook for all the things you did.” 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. And if you still want to send me to prison after this, you’d be justified.”

“Alright, go on then. Make your plea.” 

Hawkmoth crossed a leg over the other, looking to all the world a business man in a meeting, and not a terrorist at the end of the line. “I made a mistake a long time ago. I let my wife use a broken Miraculous, even though we were warned of the consequences. She got sick, and then fell asleep, with no hope of waking. The Black Cat and Ladybug Miraculous come together and allow for an ultimate wish. I intended to use this wish to wake her up.”

“Even at the cost of others?”

“You wouldn’t do the same for Adrien? If he was right there, and you knew he could be saved?” 

Ladybug looked to Chat Noir, remembering all the times he had fallen in battle. And then that moment in the catacombs when she had to leave him behind. She had considered putting the Miraculous both on to save him. 

“So…what changed your mind?” She asked instead of answering. 

“The guardian. He came and spoke to us, not knowing who I was. I explained my problem, and he had a solution that didn’t require the Miraculous.” 

Ladybug relaxed. “And your wife, she’s okay now?” 

“You had dinner just this evening.” 

“W-what?” 

“Dark wings fall.” 

The purple light dispersed, and Gabriel Agreste sat there instead. 

Emilie was right, things did make sense. 

But why did it have to be all so unfair?

Chat Noir, for his part, just stared at Gabriel, like he was trying to solve an impossible problem. 

“I imagine you have questions, son.” 

But Chat didn’t make to transform, just sat there with his head in his hands. 

“Emilie said you knew where she was, this entire time.” 

“Yes,” Gabriel admitted regretfully. “She was in the basement, in a life support chamber.” 

Chat just shook his head in disbelief. 

“And you never thought about telling Adrien?”

“I thought about it every day…but I was…cautious. Because of who I was, and what I was doing. I knew he wouldn’t like it. I was hoping to wrap it up sooner…but you’re both just too smart.” 

Chat snorted. And then proceeded to laugh. Not a funny laugh, but a laugh of disbelief, like something so horribly ironic just happened and all you can do is laugh. Because if you don’t, you’ll cry, and he’d cried enough today.

“Adrien,” Gabriel said softly. “Your mother had nothing to do with this. She didn’t leave, she became sick, you understand? Please don’t push her out. She loves you so so much. Please.” 

Chat stood, still laughing and shaking his head. He walked across the room to the windows. 

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked, panic edging at his voice. “I hope you’re not trying to leave. You’re not well enough.” 

The glare that Adrien shot across the room gave Marinette goosebumps. His cat-eyed pupils narrowed into slits, and the toxic green glowed in the dark. 

Without another word, Chat escaped through the window Gabriel had left open, and disappeared into the night. 

Gabriel groaned after he left. “I suppose that could have been worse.” 

Ladybug stood, and went to the closet. “Suppose it could have. But now I have to clean up your mess.” She found Adrien’s fencing duffle, and dumped out all of his equipment, before stuffing it with his comfiest clothes. 

“What are you doing? Why are you packing?” 

“I don’t want to stay here anymore, and considering how quickly he fled, I doubt he’s coming back tonight.” 

“Would you convince him to talk to his mother at least? He needs at least one parent.” 

She shrugged. “I don’t tell Adrien to do anything. He’s been bossed around enough.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Fine. You impossible children. Are you going to your house? Can I tell your parents?” 

“That’s my plan. If you want to tell them, that’s fine. I was going to write a note anyways.” 

“Oh,” Gabriel tugged at his jacket, taking a wallet out of his pocket. “Here, this is Adrien’s wallet. The police returned it to me. There’s a new card in there too. He can be as angry as he wants with me, but I’ll be damned if he isn’t properly cared for.” 

Ladybug took the wallet with a softer expression. “Glad you’re starting to see things our way.” Before he dropped his hand back, she took it, and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you, Hawkmoth. For saving us. Regardless of the reason, thanking you is something I had been meaning to do since I got my memory back.”

Gabriel could only nod as emotion started to choke him. He pulled away and fled the room himself. 

“Well?” Asked Emilie, who had been waiting outside the door. “How did it go?”

“They left.” 

“Left? What do you mean? Where are they going?”

“To Marinette’s bakery.”

“Is that smart? Are they strong enough for that?” 

“I surmise that revealing myself has ruined any sort of authority over them I had. Adrien’s not going to listen to me. I tried to get across to them that you’re not a fault but…” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Why did I even start this charade? All I ever did was hurt people. My son, my daughter in law, Nathalie, I couldn’t even save you.” He shook his head. “I should just turn myself in.” 

Emilie rested a hand on his shoulder. “That’s not going to help Adrien. Now, you’re going to continue with therapy, and you’re going to follow my lead. It might take a while for Adrien to start talking to you again, but it doesn’t hurt to try.” 

“I’ve been trying.” 

“Well, then try harder!” 

“Emilie…”

“Starting tomorrow. Now come along, it’s late.” 

“Yes dear.”   

—

Ladybug landed on her balcony, duffle over her shoulder. 

Chat was curled up on her deck chair, staring at the sky. 

“You doing okay, kitty?” 

“It’s not all that surprising, all things considered. I gave him so many excuses for his shitty behavior, and little did I know, he’s actually the worst person in Paris.” 

Marinette shrugged. “I can think of at least two people that take that title now.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you got me there.” 

Ladybug sat down next to him, draping her legs over his. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest. “You know what really sucks?”

“What?”

“I love him. I still…I still love him. Hawkmoth. God. That sucks.” 

“Well, he is your father, and at some point, he was different. And he was doing this to save your mom, not for riches or power…I don’t know, I think that softens the blow a little.” 

“Yeah. That makes it hurt a little less. He’s a good person. But just—Deep deep down. And he’s trying. I know he is.”

“You know you should forgive him, right?”

Chat growled. “Yeah…”

“But I think a lot of people mess up forgiveness with acceptance. Forgiveness is letting the anger and the bitterness in your heart go. So accept that he hurt you, work through it, and let that anger and hate go. But that doesn’t mean you have to invite him back into your life to hurt you again. You can protect yourself. You can cut him off.” 

“I don’t know if I want to cut him off…at least not forever. I just need time to think.” 

She smiled at him. “That’s why I brought your duffle. He’s not expecting us to come back for a while.” 

Chat sat up, eyes wide and full of delight. “Really?” 

“Yes, kitty. I’m sure he’ll want us to interact with him, but we can stay here.” 

His lips found hers, pressing affection and gratitude into her. “You’re the best.”

“I try.”

[apocalypsewriters]

Not-a-Damsel in Distress: Hallway Edition

Summary: Victor-Hecate's first public short story! Their many protective layers concealed too many features, so a patrolling teacher hehe that rhymed decided to lecture them on it and subsequently put them in danger. A somewhat mysterious girl (Aster @pagesofcursive character) comes to the rescue, which may lead them back to a path they abandoned long ago for the safety of them and the mental peace of those around them.

“Miss Ernesh!” The teacher’s voice rang out across the hallway.

Victor-Hecate Ernesh jumped, their head halfway in their locker. Sighing, they tugged at their scarf, one of the many layers of clothing they wore, and closed their locker. “Yes?” they answered, their voice muffled by the cream bandana they wore.

Coldly, the teacher demanded, “Take off all those… accessories. You know the school policy.”

Victor-Hecate said nothing and began unwrapping their copious layers of clothing. Under the severe gaze of the teacher, they shrugged off the overcoat and laid it on the tiled floor, grimacing at the thought of all the grime from day to day usage getting on the soft leather. They tugged off their grey beanie, a mop of tightly coiled chocolate brown curls spilling out and hanging halo-like around their head. After trying and failing to unwrap their scarf, they tugged off their treasured gloves and added them to the slowly growing pile at their knees.

“Hey!” a voice echoed sharply from one of the nearby lockers.

A pale girl stormed over, her dark, choppily cut, chin-length hair framing her face. A scar traced down the left side of her face, through her eyebrow to halfway down her cheek. Her dark clothing contrasted starkly with her fierce blue eyes. Victor-Hecate’s eyes widened at the impressive figure she cut; they’d heard of her before - Aster had dated Dawn, one of the more popular girls in schools, and was in and out of detention so often, no one could keep track of her misdeeds. “Can’t you see they’re obviously uncomfortable? Why can’t they just wear what they want?” Aster’s icy tone matched the teacher’s.

The teacher raised an eyebrow at the fuming girl. “She wasn’t adhering to the dress code, so she had to change. And frankly, it’s none of your business, so resume getting ready for class.”

Victor-Hecate turned back to their pile of clothing, their spirits lifted a little - they’d finally managed to unknot their scarf, and someone was trying to stand up for them. They stole another look at the girl, who rolled her eyes at the teacher. Stealing a hidden smirk, they got to work untying their bandana, which had gotten caught in their short hair.

“Dress code is stupid anyway,” she snapped, her eyes blazing brighter than before, and she narrowed them at the teacher. “Are their clothes personally bothering you? Because I don’t see how a few extra layers do anything but help them feel comfortable.”

The teacher’s visage grew haughty at the fiery girl’s insolence. “It’s a matter of security. It is hard to identify the student, and he or she could be smuggling something,” the teacher said snidely.

“A matter of security?” she said with a snicker. “Did you know that four of the doors leading into the school and the front gate all have broken locks? There are malfunctioning cameras everywhere, and at least half the windows are cracked. Why don’t you focus on those instead of targeting an innocent student?” As Victor-Hecate ripped their ashamed gaze from the pile of clothing on the floor, they caught a flash of fire curling around Aster’s fist. 

“Mind your tone, young lady,” snapped the teacher.

Finally, Victor-Hecate plucked up the courage to say something. Apparently, their mumble was inaudible to the pair standing above them, as the teacher abruptly asked, “What was that?”

They swallowed and tried to muster up their drive once again. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s fine, really.”

The teacher turned and smugly addressed Aster, who was still standing there, boiling with barely checked rage. “You see?”

Aster’s voice hardened, her eyes growing steely as she reeled back her temper. “You’re terrifying them, do you see that? Although I’m sure that during the dark ages, when you first became a teacher, it was fine to mistreat students, but it’s a different time now.” If looks could kill, the teacher would be dead on the floor. Rolling her eyes once again as the teacher opened her mouth, she quickly said, “Just let them go the rest of the day with the layers they’re comfortable with, and then I’ll help them figure out a new wardrobe after school.”

The teacher huffed before stalking off down the hallway, leaving the pair alone in front of the lockers. Victor-Hecate spoke up again, their voice filling the silence that now permeated the area, “Thank you. That was really brave. I would never be able to do that.” Their cheeks rushed with blood, giving them the color they desperately needed.

Aster’s expression softened a little. “It’s no problem. I hate when teachers do stuff like that.” She paused for a moment. “Hey, do I know you? You look familiar.”

They shrugged, “Maybe. But probably not. I don’t know a lot of people, and as you can see,” they said, gesturing to their backpack, which was bursting at the seams with their shredded layers, “I don’t show a lot of features. But I know you, though.” Victor-Hecate paused, doubting their previous observation. “You’re Aster, right? You’ve caused quite a stir at school. Even I noticed.”

Aster let out a laugh, her features alight with memories of mischief. “Yeah, that’s what I’m known for. What’s your name again?”

Victor-Hecate smarted, startled by the question. “Sorry about that. I’m not really used to people asking me. I’m pretty good at fading into the background.” They smiled weakly, pulling on their backpack. “I’m Victor-Hecate. Take your pick of nicknames; I don’t mind. It’s a bit of a mouthful, I know.” Once again, they wished they didn’t have their powers, or at the very least, were wearing gloves – this seemed like a situation that needed a handshake. Memories of normal greetings, normal interactions with people had faded over the six years of having powers.

“Well, Victor-Hecate,” Aster said, nudging them. They stiffened at the contact, preparing themself for pain, but none came. Thankfully, Aster hadn’t managed to brush any skin. “I think you’re pretty cool. And I’m sure I know someone in your family- any siblings at this school?”

“Thanks. My cousin goes here, actually. You’ve probably heard of her; she’s pretty popular. Violetta?”

Aster’s eyes widened for a moment, a slight blush rushing into her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Oh. That explains things then. She’s in a bunch of my classes.” She chuckled. “I don’t know if she mentioned, but we kinda have a rivalry going on.”

Victor-Hecate shook their head sadly. “I don’t see her that much. We don’t run in the same circles. Like I said, I don’t know a lot of people.” They shuffled their feet awkwardly, tugging at the sleeves of their light green turtleneck. “Thanks again for rescuing me.” They started walking away, leaving Aster behind, still a little flushed.

“Well, tell her I said hi, I guess.” Her face went red again as they stopped, just shy of a chewed pencil that lay unseen one pace away from the tips of Victor-Hecate’s grey converse. Aster’s hair bounced slightly as she shook her head quickly. “Actually, don’t.”

Victor-Hecate twisted around, taking two steps towards the darkly dressed girl, raising their eyebrows, a smirk spreading on their face. “So, don’t tell her you say hi?”

Aster avoided their eyes, somehow blushing brighter. “Just ignore all of that. Uh, so am I coming over to your house to help you pick out new clothes, or did I straight up lie to that jerk of a teacher?” Fire licked out from her fists at the memory of the argument.

“You can if you want to. But I’d understand if you don’t. I’m not the most sociable person,” their smile faded.

“No, no,” Aster reassured. “I would love to hang out.”

Victor-Hecate brightened, “Awesome. Here.” They swung their bag around and fished in a pocket, searching for stationary. After a few agonizing moments of scrambling, they pulled out a pen and paper. “Write down your number so we can organize this later.”

Aster stretched out a hand. As soon as her fingers brushed the paper, they let go. The pen clattered to the floor, the paper drifting to the rest moments later. Victor-Hecate shot Aster an apologetic look as she bent to pick up the fallen materials. Aster leaned against the lockers, writing out her phone number in chicken scratch, the numbers barely legible. Stopping for a brief moment partway through writing, she aggressively shook the pen, which revolted at being used sideways. Handing back the paper, Aster blinked as the other student snatched the paper out of her hands. Victor-Hecate cringed at the situation, worried their fear was warping another potential relationship.

“Well, text me then,” Aster said, thankfully not mentioning Victor-Hecate’s odd mannerisms.

“Thanks! I will” They turned and started walking away. Suddenly, their foot slid out from underneath them, a pencil flying up in the air – the culprit of the tumble. They fell to the ground, hard, their wrists smacking against the grimy tiled floor. Anyone else would have let out a cry or grimaced at the fall, but Victor-Hecate’s high pain tolerance allowed them to brush off the injury.

“Here, let me help.” Too late, they heard Aster walk up to them, her boots clumping across the floor, and grab their hands to try to pull them up. Pain bloomed in their abdomen, their eyes flashed black as their power flared up. They snatched their hands away, falling once more to the floor. They curled into the fetal position, wrapping their arms around their middle as the phantom wound lingered. By their best guess, it would be a knife wound- and an ugly one at that. They let out a whimper as the pain surged. Finally, finally, it faded, allowing Victor-Hecate to recover and sit up.

Their voice was strained, “I’m good, but thanks.”

“Are you okay? What happened?” Concern was etched on Aster’s face.

Hauling themself to their feet, they replied, “My awful power happened.” They wilted at the worry, the pity on Aster’s face. It always happened. They were maybe, finally, respected as a person, a whole person without issues. And then, inevitably, their power surfaced and put them below everyone else again. They hated feeling weak, but the only thing worse than the pain was the looks they got. No one ever saw them as competent after witnessing a breakdown. Victor-Hecate watched curiosity light in Aster’s eyes. Maybe pity wasn’t the worst. They dreaded her horrified reaction to the reveal of the morbid powers they never wished for.

“Oh, uh- what’s your power then?” The question spilled out of Aster’s lips.

Straightening their backpack, they muttered, “I’m so sorry for the way you go out.” They brushed themself off, relishing in the final moments of ignorance before horror soured the air. Clearing their throat awkwardly, they explained, “Whenever I touch someone, I feel the pain of their death.”

With their gaze fixed on the floor, they didn’t see Aster backing up, but they heard it; her black leather boots squeaked twice on the tiles before her hand pressed against a locker, the metal letting out a crack as it warped under her weight. They imagined the shock on her face, just like the dozens before her. “I- What hap- No, I don’t want to know. Is that why...?” She stammered before trailing off.

Victor-Hecate's shoulders tightened from their slumped position. They were distraught but tried not to show it. “Yeah. That’s why I wear so much clothing - to cover any skin.” Swallowing back tears, they knelt back on the ground and pulled a jacket out from their bag. They slipped it on, jamming their thumbs in the holes by the base of the sleeves and zipping it up as quickly as possible. They forced themself to meet Aster’s gaze before continuing, “If you don’t want to come over, I understand. Nothing like a stranger knowing how you die.”

Aster chuckled weakly, the shock slowly fading from her face. “No, no, it’s- it’s okay.” She smiled at Victor-Hecate, who stood, shell-shocked in front of her. “And, exactly, I’d rather a friend know how I die compared to a random stranger. So, I’m still welcome to come?”

“Oh,” they said, caught off guard. “Of course.” The words were quiet, not quite out loud, but not quite to themself either. “I’d love that.” The pair stood in silence for a few moments before Victor-Hecate piped up, “Just, be careful around knives, okay?”

Aster’s jaw dropped at the statement. It hung open for two counts before snapping shut. “I’ll do my best. See you after school.”

“Yeah,” they said, perking up at the prospect, “Yeah…” As they made their way down the hallway, making a point to avoid the pencil, which sat innocently three feet from where it had been five minutes earlier.

Aster laughed under her breath, before starting on her own way in the opposite direction of Victor-Hecate, who now almost had a spring in their step. That day, they counted down the hours left of school for a completely different reason from their classmates. The only time the wait slipped their mind was lunch – they pulled out their phone, pulling up the number of a person they hadn’t talked to face to face for a long time.

[queenangst]

weekly fic roundup #4 (bnha)

weekly fic roundups cover boku no hero academia fanfiction, and generally showcases gen whump fic.

for more fic recs, check out my fic rec tag & my weekly fic roundups.

*due to the sheer amount of fics i’m reccing this week, this fic is going under a read more cut, but please go through and take a look at all of them! there’s around 24 fics on this list.

this weekly fic roundup covers the week mar 8-15.

Tristeza by ViolentlyRed

gen; 6/5k; 1/1 complete; bakugou & aizawa

"Through the lenses of three AM, Bakugou looks a lot smaller in the streetlight of a hospital parking lot."

Or, Aizawa comes to a few conclusions in the span and the aftermath of one long, stressful night.

(Bakugou is hurt and sick and Aizawa is robbed of his sleep and his sanity, yet again)

thoughts: ugh, what a good fic. it hurts in all the right ways, and dadzawa and hurt!bakugou is satisfying in a visceral way.

Wonders Never Ceased by ViolentlyRed

gen; 2.6k; 1/1 complete; bakugou & aizawa

Two calamitous days.

He gets the call from Tsukauchi sometime around nine in the morning.

Or, everything is awful, Bakugou is not okay, Aizawa's heart aches and they somehow get through it.

thoughts: and another bakugou whump from the same author. really a treat.

In Harm’s Way by VIKAN

gen; 19.7k; 1/1 complete; todoroki, kirishima, & bakugou

Todoroki isn't feeling so good, Kirishima is concerned, and Bakugou doesn't care at all.

thoughts: oh, yes. putting these three together makes for an interesting dynamic, especially because it’s todoroki’s pov while he’s dying just a little bit and two idiots don’t know what to do. todoroki whump!

Blooming Gladiolus, Fall to the Ground by twilighteve

gen; 19.5k; chapters 5/? ongoing

When Midoriya Hisashi finally comes home from years-long work outside the country, Izuku expected to have some family down time that he hadn’t ever had with him since… well, forever. Catching-up talk, maybe. Chatting while drinking coffee or eating ice cream at some fancy outdoor patio. Definitely fumbling around for an explanation about him developing a Quirk pretty much out of nowhere.

However, his expectations were turned upside down, because apparently, his father isn’t what he seems, and Izuku doesn’t know what to expect anymore.

What Izuku knows is that the appearance of Midoriya Hisashi triggers a domino effect that sends his whole world toppling down. And honestly, being accused of turning around and becoming a villain is just a bonus. When have life ever passed the chance to fuck him over, anyway?

thoughts: this is, hands down, my favorite fic of the week. i was completely blown away by the sheer concept of the fic. it’s so interesting, and such an original take on “villain” (in a loose sense) Hisashi that i won’t spoil, but it makes for an interesting and tense read. please read this. i absolutely lost it reading this fic.

Get Well Soon by brickboat

gen; 9k; 1/1 complete; jirou & all might

Super hearing can give you access to information that others aren't privy to.

That's not always a good thing.

thoughts: what a mess. i love fics like these that explore what consequences can come with quirks.. like overhearing things you should very much not be hearing.

Oxygen Mask by cinnabee

multi; 2.6k; 1/1 complete; izuku & bakugou (izuku/bakugou)

Static. Smoke. Heat. Katsuki's eyes land on a green lump in the corner, lit up like a ghost by an emergency lantern on the floor a few feet away. Not dreaming. Real. Deku. His fingers squeak across the respirator strapped to his own face. Deku's respirator.

OR: Katsuki wakes up trapped in a burning building with an unconscious partner, very little time, and a borrowed respirator.

thoughts: i’m a fan! [this fic is pre-relationship, so can be read platonically or romantically.]

[rec list continues under the cut]

A Simple Mistake by Silverkleptfox

gen; 5k; 1/1 complete; izuku, iida, & todoroki

It was a basic, run-of-the mill rescue, until a simple mistake from each of the heroes put Todoroki’s life in danger.

thoughts: yes, please! it’s just fun to see how mistakes can blow out of proportion and cause repercussions... 

Alexithymia by LunaLucrea

gen; 2.4k; 1/? ongoing; izuku & aizawa

After a relatively benign villain encounter during an off campus lesson, Izuku suddenly feels too much.

thoughts: intriguing start to a new fic! i’ve read the author’s other works before and am extremely excited about this one. quirk-related whump, sign me up.

A Hero for a Villain by ZeroUnitRGB

gen; 3k; 1/1 complete

“With an appearance like that, you must’ve been bullied a lot as a kid.”

Those words had not been used to disparage Shouji’s appearance. Rather, they most certainly came from a place of sympathy. Shouji had a hard time believing they were evidence of the villain’s hypocrisy, but a reflection of his own loneliness. So even though he was a hero student on the opposite path, he’d made a vow back then. And even though it had been years ago, he swore he would see it through.

thoughts: oh, shouji is so underappreciated and this fic is a great look into his character and his thoughts! i really enjoyed it. [contains heroes: rising spoilers]

Mockingbird by angst_goblin

gen; 10.8k; 2/2 complete; izuku & aizawa, izuku & all might, izuku & bakugou, class 1-a

Izuku gets de-aged to 3 years old and Shota Aizawa is really not being paid enough to deal with any of this.

thoughts: while deaging fics are usually not my fare, this fic was an absolute find and such a great read. sweet, soft, angsty, and funny - covers it all and wraps it in a package of tiny deku. 

It’s a Long Road (We All Need Help Sometimes) by TDFawkes

gen; 15.7k; chapters 10/31 ongoing; izuku & aizawa, izuku & all might

Aizawa wouldn’t say it to the boy’s face yet, but Midoriya was bound to quite the future in the hero world. Quite the natural.

That being said, Midoriya caused Aizawa many problems while in his class, ranging from slight headaches to near panic attacks.

thoughts: catching up on whumptober fic and i love seeing the whump in this one. 

seeing red by pleurer

gen; 819 words; chapters 1/1 complete; izuku & aizawa, kirishima & aizawa

Aizawa wasn’t even surprised to hear the sound of scuffling outside of the dorms at midnight. Disappointed, maybe. But not surprised.

thoughts: a short, nice read. 

Revelation by murple

gen; 4.9k; chapters 3/? ongoing

Class 1A has always known there was something different about Midoriya. It was the way All Might was closer to him than any other student. It was the way he rapidly went from having no control over his quirk to being one of the strongest in the class. It was the way he never really talked about his life before UA. It was obvious he was hiding something.

But secrets can only be kept for so long in a class of curious teenagers, especially when one of them has a quirk specially suited for eavesdropping.

OR

All Might and Izuku have another chat. Jirou shares some things that weren't meant to be shared.

thoughts: really enjoyed this one. another messy “jirou overhears something she shouldn’t have” fic, and i like how it’s turning out! i love a good secrets revealed fic. 

give me everything you have (and then some) by laurenshappenstobemyboyfriend

gen; 7.1k; 1/1 complete; izuku & shinsou

"Midoriya, which one of these guys do you think you want to manage?" the girl next to him asks. "I think the shadow quirk bird boy looks pretty powerful. I'll try and nab him after this."

Midoriya agrees, but his eyes are drawn to a different boy. The one with the mind quirk that can control anyone. The one that lost on a fluke. The one who everyone else already thinks of as a villain to be.

"I think I'll go for that one," he says, pointing to the purple haired boy. "He looks like he can be something great."

thoughts: oh, i loved this au to bits. this fic turned my heart inside-out. i loved the dynamic, and i loved seeing how management student!izuku differs from canon in both a bittersweet and touching way, and how that changes his path forward. (and his relationship with shinsou). 

Nice to Meet You? by Allwalkfree

gen; 9.5k; 11/? ongoing; bakugou & amajiki

Kirishima introduces Bakugou to his favorite senpai.

In which over several encounters Bakugou and Amajiki learn to become tentative friends.

thoughts: now this is a fic that’s won me over in terms of dynamic. bakugou and amajiki are an interesting pair, i love it.

dragged back, pushing forward by RSDobs

gen; 3k; 1/2 ongoing; izuku & todoroki

Midoriya and Todoroki just wanted a relaxing trip to go buy new All Might merch. Howevor that goes out the window when the two of them run into one of Midoriya's old middle school teachers. Specifically, the quirkist one who seemed to have it out for Izuku. Midoriya struggles not to regress into his old mindset and Todoroki struggles to help his friend.

thoughts: oh, yeah. oh, yeah. love seeing fics that bring up some painful pasts, and i like that this one focuses on izuku & todoroki. 

An Accident at Work Study by TestyCanadian

gen; 6.8k; 2/6 ongoing

Izuku is working hard to prove himself at his work study, but it's hard when Sir Nighteye has made it clear he's not wanted. But what happens when Izuku is caught in a villain attack on his way to the agency? Will a few revelations about his most recent intern's past be enough for Sir Nighteye to change his mind about All Might's successor?

thoughts: yes! yeah! we love to see it!

Spring’s Whisperings by scythian

gen; 4.7k; 1/? ongoing; tsukauchi & bakugou

Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa tries to always have good faith in people. It's tested greatly when cases get dumped onto him; such as the case of missing five year old Midoriya Izuku. Few leads and even fewer witnesses that hardly care, Naomosa can only hope for the best. Especially when the only one willing to help is young Bakugou Katsuki.

thoughts: the author and i have been talking about this au for ages and it’s finally posted. i have seen this au at its bare bones and it is now blossoming into a great fic. if you’re looking for tsukauchi fic, bakugou goodness, or izuku whump this one’s for you!

A Shared Consequence by GuardianLioness

gen; 2k; 1/1 complete; izuku & all might

The cold is not kind to injury and old bones.

thoughts: just some nice dadmight!

painting the night with sun by ADreamingSongbird

gen; 6.1k; 1/1 complete; izuku/todoroki, izuku & uraraka

Heroism is not a low-risk occupation. Hospital waiting rooms are not pleasant places. Ochako's clothes are stained with her best friend's blood.

Today has not been a very good day.

thoughts: this fic hooked and reeled me in. a fantastic read!

paid for it (with all of my blood) by theshoutingslytherin

gen; 1k; 1/1 complete; izuku & shinsou

As it turns out, Midoriya has more in common with him than Hitoshi ever realized.

thoughts: this fic, looking at it, is really sad, but i found it really emotionally charged and a good read.

you’ll blow us all away, someday by Origamidragons

gen; 2k; 1/1 complete; eri & kouta

Eri’s first day of school at UA is like coming home.

thoughts: i love eri future fic. sweet and hopeful.

And Now I See Daylight by DancingInTheStorm

gen; 8.6k; 1/1 complete

AnalysisOverload Current mood: HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON

AnalysisOverload reblogged AnalysisOverload Okay, let’s talk HeroCon.

Look around, and you’ll see a lot of discrimination—against people whose Quirk is debilitating, against people whose Quirks scare us, against people who have trouble controlling their Quirk, against people who don’t have a Quirk at all. It’s easy to feel alone in a sea of discrimination.

Enter HeroCon:X.

A social media fic following Deku post-graduation.

thoughts: how can i ever express how much i love hero convention fics, especially through the lens of social media and with izuku? it’s a great fic that plays with not only the hero convention idea, but also with quirklessness and quirkless discrimination, and the waves that future izuku is making.

Thaw by Esselle

gen; 2.1k, 1/1 complete; izuku & todoroki, iida & todoroki

Izuku observes as Shouto learns how to fit in after the Sports Festival, with the help of Class 1-A.

thoughts: todoroki has friends! he’s making friends! funny, sweet, and class bonding.

[bluebrine]

it’s still... odd to me that other people had such different experiences growing up with this series than i did. i had such a personal relationship with it... seeing others talk about the sequels, what they liked and disliked for the series- and it’s like, really? we had very different childhoods (...story of my life, ha).

in my elementary school, our library only had one of the books- Dealing With Dragons (the one with this delightfully cheesy cover by Tim Hildebrandt lol).

(also, please note, there is no indication here that this is the first book of a series. just..... keep that in mind.)

haha, what if 🤭 ..... i was beautiful princess, and you were a dangerously charming dragon 😜 ..... and we were both girls? 😳💦 

good god, little me LIVED for this book. i checked it out & reread it over and over again- the librarian must have got sick of me at some point but i didn’t care lol. i stayed up too late reading it with a flashlight under the covers, i read it during class beneath the desk (i was not... particularly stealthy. they kinda just let me think i was getting away with it lmao).

i know every young kid likes books with fantasy and magic to make their boring lives less lame, but the way i buried myself in this one was... 100% pure escapism. (pour one out for all the weird kids who had no friends outside of books, am i right ladies?) 

the story has a theme of just..... running away from it all, cause everyone else apparently knows so much more about what’s Right for you- what interests are Right for you, what clothes are Right for you, what boys are Right for you, everything! everything was chosen for you, no dystopian YA lit required! 

(CAN YOU POSSIBLY GUESS WHERE THIS IS GOING?)

i didn’t know what the concept of a lesbian was or why no one else thought it was weird that you couldn’t have interests that were Not Like Other People (the Right People), but that’s what this book meant to me. the entire core of the story was showing kids that you could pick your own hobbies, your own home, your own family & friends and it wasn’t up to the Right People to decide that for you.

fuck ‘em!!! run off to the mountains! live in exciting domestic bliss with a giant, well-read, protective dragon lady who can breathe fire and loves to eat your cherries jubilee every night (ABSOLUTELY NO METAPHORS HERE NO SIR)! back home your family is freaking out (but kinda relieved)- cause this is crazy, dragons are dangerous and ruin the women they steal away (where have i heard this before?), but also your family doesn’t... really miss you. they don’t actually want you back- as you were, anyway. once the prince sweeps you off your feet and away from the dragon’s evil clutches and properly marries you, oh sure, then you’re welcome back with open arms! (but that will never happen.)

fuck ‘em!!!!! make cool friends with other misfits and live a life full of adventure with the family you found along the way! there’s witches who live in eccentric homes with 50 cats, there’s neighborly old dragon grandpas who love chocolate pudding, there’s other girls who don’t think you’re weird and like to hang out and read magic books in the library too! you can make friends and be happy! it IS possible!

and that meant so much to me as a kid. i never fit in (i wonder why), i never seemed to like the Right stuff (I WONDER WHY), and for the things i did care about, i went about it wrong- according to the Right People, who didn’t much care about what i thought at all.

...anyway Dealing With Dragons is an allegory about the power of lesbian escapism & independence and i love it very much. i still love it, over a decade later. it’s a fun, captivating, whimsical little tale that means more than childhood nostalgia to me. i spent hours daydreaming about the story in elementary school, content with the characters and setting in a way that just... settled something in me. 

but then i read the other books.

because there were... OTHER BOOKS!? WHAT??? (again, i never knew it wasn’t a stand-alone story lol).

when i got to middle school and had a whole new library to consume, i naturally looked for my fav type of books- those with cool fantasy ladies with swords and dragons on the front (that’s a genre, right?). and, lo and behold, there were more parts to my favorite story!!! lads, i lost my goddamn mind. there were THREE MORE? WHAT??? utter batshittery. how had they kept this from me? i had to read them immediately. 

what would the stories be about? i saw Cimorene on the covers, sword-wielding and pants-wearing (’fuck yes’, said little me). what adventures would she get up to with Kazul, now that she was king of dragons? what would life in their new home be like? the new libraries and treasuries and kitchens would be massive- what secrets would they discover? what was living in dragon society like, now that they sat at the top together? what new recipes would Cimorene cook with her friend??? (that one was very important to me lol).

i checked out all of ‘em at once, and channeled deep into the obsessive focus that only a truly lonely middle school girl can attain. I was SO EXCITED for this. 

-- and got my heart ground to dust under Patricia C. Wrede’s heel.

...because, see, i hadn’t known there was an Enchanted Forest Chronicles. i hadn’t thought about what that actually meant. it, as inevitably as the tides, meant the incoming of the one thing that made me truly hate reading sometimes- romance. cause these books weren’t about Cimorene and her friends or Kazul at all. they were about a sudden love interest and the child Cimorene had with him cause of course that’s what fucking happened. what else was i expecting? what else could stories possibly be about? i read through all of the books, feeling a little more like somebody shot my dog with each chapter, and could only feel sick when she got married & pregnant at the end. i was 11 years old and i knew something was wrong but not why.

(aaand looking back now, was that baby’s first taste of queerbaiting? does it count if you do it to yourself?? ah, youth. i don’t let myself get my hopes up anymore.)

for a very long time, i hated the idea of love (...quite the oxymoron, that one). cause it always, always meant that the people i cared about changed in ways that i didn’t understand at all. what, some boy you’ve never met before shows up, and suddenly your important quest and friends and family are... an after thought? why? don’t you care about them? don’t you love them too? why does this always happen? why is there always a boy and love and babies and nothing else? (why, why, why indeed? and yes, i was one of those kids who got fucking mean when their friends started only looking at boys, how’d you know?)

anyways. i hated it. i couldn’t possibly have articulated why back then, but it always made me so mad, despite the fact that the words on the page were telling me that this was the best thing that could ever happen in life. that just made it worse, cause why am i getting so upset over this? it’s a good thing, objectively- they’re in love. they’re happy. why is it making me feel so fucking angry instead?

this series doesn’t really... deserve any of the repressed vitriol it made me feel, though. Cimorene’s love interest that appeared in book two, Mendanbar, is actually a pretty cool guy! he has an innate, natural connection to his magic forest kingdom. he’s sick of fairy-tale tropes, he has a sweet anti-wizard sword, he’s very kind and brave- and i fucking hated his guts (...lmao, sorry dude).

there’s nothing actually wrong with this series’s romances. the couples care about each other and support each other well. i’m glad for all the kids who got to see some happy romances, i truly am. but god, that wasn’t for me, and it probably wasn’t for the other lonely kids who picked up a book about running away from what the Right People wanted for them either. 

for a series about rejecting what society tells you is the Right thing to want, the characters just... end up wanting that exact same thing anyway. oh, the thought of marrying a man and spending your life with him, baring him heirs until you die, sounds unappealing? so distressing, in fact, you’d literally rather get eaten by dragons? WELL DON’T WORRY, this one particular guy is actually good! of course you’ll fall in love with him! you’ll want to be pregnant forever with his horrible frogspawn! you’ll be happy! 

...what do you mean this is what you were running away from?

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

i spent... an inordinate amount of time as a child reading Dealing With Dragons. while i cannot possibly blame the author for my individual experience with their work, which WAS written as a series (the finale was written first, actually! way back in 1985), the fact remains that my interactions with them were... soured. 

in a way that was out of the author’s hands, really, but i just don’t know how to think about this series without that bittersweet hurt in my chest. i cried like, twice, writing this stupid, rambling essay thing, and i don’t actually know how to look past that. i suppose the tried-and-true method of just... rereading the first book and pretending everything’s fine always works lol.

i own a few different versions of these books. there’s a full set i was gifted later in middle school -the nice glossy ones, with Peter De Seve’s lovely cover art! -which i have never once reread. they’re in immaculate shape, really.

i also own an absolutely, completely beat-to-shit paperback copy of the same version i must have read a hundred times as a kid. its cover is creased and peeling, there’s a bunch of weird stains and rips and dogears, and i adore it. i picked it up this year at a used book place, and every time i look at it i can see some small, desperate kid who doesn’t even know they’re lonely but still curls up around that book again and again.