#spy is so fucking cool i should draw her more...

[fexjam]

Spy punishes Scout by making him french

[wazzappp]

So. @quasar-crew made a post about all the fun fic ideas they've been thinking of and within that was an 'Everyone gets infected funtimes' au. It has consumed me.

Ashleys mutations mostly focus on allowing her to GET AWAY and doing it QUICKLY. Most of her time while infected with the Plaga is spent trying to get away from threats, so it responded to that when developing its 'improvements'. She's mostly based off of the Novistador enemies found in the later levels.

Her clawed feet allow for climbing and perching on small objects. Armor extends up the leg because lets be real bro. I saw Jacksepticeyes playthrough theres no way her legs didnt at least get OCCASIONALLY grazed by wayward bullets from Leon trying to shoot whoever is carrying her away. NEVER AGAIN. Her armor is not as strong as I would imagine Leons is because it needs to be light enough to allow her to fly.

The Novistador's only have three fingered 'hands' so that translates over by only mutating three of her fingers. She has mandibles but they're mostly meant as a last resort self defense, along with her new sharp teeth (TEEF. TEEEEEEEEEFFFF). They don't move much beyond slight up and down motions. She also has a nictitating membrane that rests on the edges of her eyes when not in use. It activates after she blinks (think like a windshield wiper clearing away debris) and also covers her eyes when she's flying. This does impede her vision a little bit, so its best for her to find somewhere to rest if she's up there to spy.

Ashley has considerably less armor than Leon because 1. thats not the focus of her mutation. the focus is allowing her to get away from threats and 2. because she needs to remain light enough to actually get in the air. Her wings are extensions of the Plagas legs that have shifted to rest more on its back than its sides. That way its less strain on her back muscles (shoulders are already so fuckin complicated bro). They move in more of an x motion than an up and down. The best thing to compare them too would be a hummingbird. I briefly considered looking to dragonflies and their flight, which led me to this very cool video but I think she's just too large for that to work. Her wings have no bones in them, instead relying on the Plagas strong exoskeleton (carcinization strikes again) to keep her lightweight but strong. In theory, if she practiced enough, she should be strong enough to just. Pick an enemy up, lift them into the air, and then drop them.

Her antennae are controlled by a small tendon anchored just above her ears. They act to gather extra sensory information. They can detect smell, temperature (fire chaser beetle style babyyyy), and they are sensitive to touch which allows her to sense wind direction when she's flying up high. When in a situation where too much is going on, they will flatten back to try and avoid sensory overload. It's like when you turn down your car radio to see a parking spot better.

Also, because I forgot to draw it sometimes, the armor on her back wraps around her neck to protect more of her main veins and arteries. Plus, no more choking so thats a bonus.

And heres just. Some random doodles because I ended up really enjoying drawing her (bonus Leon with an awkward cutoff because idk how I want to draw his feet yet. Some kind of fucked up digitigrade deal most likely I just haven't figured out the details.)

Next up, Ada Wong you can not run from me.

[gasoline-drinker]

Reverie head cannons again!!!!

Casey and Honey :

Honey has this thing where, every time they call Casey a pet-name, they feel like they sound cringe. To combat this, Honey calls Casey shit like oomf, which pisses Casey off. (In a silly way dw)

Casey dyes his hair, and by this point it's so fried it fucking crunches when touched. The shit feels like aluminum foil.

Casey, if he ever were to actually fight someone, fights dirty, teeth and nails and shit like that. Mainly because he grew up the youngest, and most anxiety ridden, with 2 older brothers.

Casey grew up on those old cheap 2000s movies like spy kids and fuckin. Baby geniuses idk

Cyril and Dove :

Cyril smells funny. Not BAD, he just doesn't really shower often. He's a little greasy. (He also has a lot of body hair. No beard cuz he's totally a twink, but enough leg hair to knit some nice socks)

You'd think Cyril has shit posture, but surprisingly he has like perfect posture. His back is a straight line. Father and papa would kill him if he saw him slouching. Dove has shit posture tho

Dove is actually pretty fuckin' good at art, they just don't use it for anything other than drawing stupid shit

T-t-t-t4t..🥺🥺

Detective and Marlowe :

Detective and Axel are homies!! They talk shit together and Axel tells them the most foul stories!!!

Marlowe was like. In severe bisexual denial before going on the run. His whole thought process was like 'i can't like men, I have a girlfriend!! I am sososo heterosexual😁😁' (this is vergy much male Detective, sorgy.)

Marlowe usually sleeps on his back, never fully relaxed, always ready to wake up and attack someone. However, whenever he's really comfortable (like the first time he slept over at Detective's place, if that eventually happens IT WILL IT WILL IM DELUSIONAL IT WILL.) he is GONE. He does that thing cats do where they sleep so good they seem like they're definitely dead.

I feel like Marlowe will tear up when finally offered regular ass home cooked food. Dudes been living off fast food and chef boyardee for years.

Detective feels like they'd have just a shit ton of scars people can't see under their clothes, not as many as Marlowe totally, but still more than a normal guy should have. They're also all from much less cool things than Marlowe

Axel and Sunshine :

Axel grew up going to his grandma's house every weekend, so his nostalgia mainly flares up from those old 'as seen on TV' commercials, and bad 80s movies. Also his grandma had a clock that spouted one of the same 15 Bible verses every hour, and he very vividly remembers the little chime it made before each one. Knockoff soda is very nostalgic too.

Bunny, Kane, and Dion :

Bunny had just the most extensive PC setup. Everything was RGB, they're one of those weirdos who cares what their keyboard sounds like. That thing was their baby, before it was FUCKING DESTROYED. :(

Bunny, Experiment, and Dearest are family. Doesn't matter how close. attracting demons runs in the family.

Others :

Fausten is mute. Idk man we've never seen him talk :/ also the idea of your mentor just like. Silently looking over your work, emotionless, is HORRIFYING.

Lauren feels very 2000s older sister. (I'd let her call me a loser.. please have sex with me Lauren please please please please) (jokies!!!!)

Whenever Lauren leaves the house, and she knows she's gonna take like under 2 hours, she puts on those nature videos people use to keep pets from tearing up the house. Casey and Honey do watch them. (Just like Papa Reverie..)

Yk that scene in Still Wakes The Deep with the elevator shaft? The one where Caz is going up, and there's violin playing, and the sight above is so hauntingly beautiful, moreso than anything humans could make? That's what Mother looks like. She also has the same effect on people, body horror included :D

Essence eaters purr. Sorgy, I don't make the rules guys.

[littlepadika]

🎀 pink (Din)

🧼 laundry detergent (fake dating)

🍄cottage core (innocent kink)

with some fluff and smut included maybe?? 🥺👉👈💘

Hi @ppslutt I don't think we've interacted so hello! Thank you for this request! Omg i am both soft and amused by this idea. Hope you like this... Din is such a cheeky bb but at the same time a feral fucking machine hehe

500 follower celebration (closed now)

Warnings: Asshole ex boyfriend, protective mando, innocent reader, unprotected piv smut, fingering, 18+

source: @reilink

"Can I sit here?"

Din startled. He had been glaring holes into the metal table at the cantina for so long he almost forgot there were other people around. He was in between bounties. Waiting for Karga to come up with something worth his time.

He nodded at the seat across from him which you fell into. He would usually say no, preferring to be left alone, but you were hardly a threat. Young and apparently unarmed. You looked stressed. Eyes darting all over the room. Were you in trouble?

"Thank you." You tapped your fingertips on the table. "My ex is here and I don't want him to see me alone."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No." You stare down at your lap. "I just don't want to talk to him."

That made sense, but Din couldn't understand why you were talking to him specifically. Most people feared Mandalorians. He expected you to want to hire him or ask him to kill your ex. You glanced over your shoulder. Din followed your gaze, identifying the man in question, an arrogant looking human with his arm around a girl with her back to you both.

"I'll leave you alone in a minute." You turned your attention back to him. "What's your name, sir?"

"Mando." He grunted. You replied with your name. Din's ears perked up when he heard it. The sound of it echoing in his mind. He had never heard such a name before. "Have you ever seen a Mandalorian before?" Din couldn't help but ask.

"Is that what you are?" You felt embarrassed at his amused tone. "Am I supposed to bow or something?"

Din chuckled, which came out as a crackle through the voice coder. "No. But people tend to stay away from me because- because we're killers."

"Oh." You swallowed a gasp. It never occurred to you to be afraid. "I didn't know. I've never been off world."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You snapped your head up to see your ex standing over you, an angry look on his face. "I thought you didn't like going out."

"I-I can go where I please!" You jut your chin out.

"Fucking bitch. You're just spying on me, aren't you?" Your ex spat. Din clenched his fist, not liking the way this bastard was speaking to you. He could easily break this man's arm and hardly break a sweat.

"I'm not!" You cried shrilly. "I didn't know you'd even be here."

"What are you doing with him?" Your ex turned to Mando with a sneer. "Tryin to make me jealous?"

"Obviously it worked." You glared. "Now go away."

"No hang on- you're gonna come with me and we're gonna talk."

"I think it's time for you to go." Din rested his hand on his holster, his voice impossibly low. You shivered in your seat.

"Whatever." The man gave up, backing up a little. "Good luck with this one, Mando. She's a prude."

You looked down in shame feeling angry tears sting your eyes. It was hard to believe you once loved this asshole. Din felt his temper flare in his chest. Your ex finally left, looking over his shoulder a few times to watch you and Din.

"I'm sorry." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I'll leave you alone now."

"I don't mind." Din said, surprising himself. He hated seeing you so upset. He thought about going up to that bastard and putting a hole in his chest, but that wouldn't make you feel better. "Can I get you something?"

"I don't know." You looked up at the bar trying to read the menu overhead.

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?" Din joked, hoping to see you smile. It worked. You let out a small giggle into your hand that made Din's heart constrict strangely. He ordered you a Tatooine Sunset.

"You don't want one?"

"No. Thank you." Din hesitated before adding "I don't remove my helmet."

"Ever?" Your eyes widened.

"Not in front of people."

"Oh." You took a small sip. "It's really yummy. Thank you."

Din noticed the prick from earlier still watching you both. "Come over here, ad'ika." He tapped the seat next to him.

"Why?" You asked, looking up from your cup.

"Because that nurf herder is watching us."

"Oh." You frowned, moving to sit next to Mando.

"Lean into me."

"Like this?" You asked again, tilting your head onto his cold beskar paldron.

"Yes. Good." Din nodded, enjoying the look of anger that passed over that bastard's face. "Sit closer."

"I-I am." You blushed, moving until your legs were pressed against him. He wasn't super comfortable with all the metal.

"On my lap, ad'ika." Din patted his thigh. He was being bold but something about your instant trust in him made him want to hold you closer. Feel your soft body on his. You go bright red as you stand and then perch on his knee. His gloved hand covered your lower back.

"Look at him." Din instructed, smirking behind his helmet.

"Oh he's so mad." You giggled. "This is fun, mando."

"It is, ad'ika." Din couldn't' help but agree.

"Wh-what does adeeka mean?" Your tongue got caught on the syllables.

"It means 'little one'."

"I'm-i'm not a child." You frowned, ducking your head. A weak objection as you were sitting in his lap right now.

"It's not just for children." Din placed another arm around your legs, pulling them more securely onto his lap. He regretted that he was in full armor because he could not feel you but that was also probably a good thing or else he'd be hard. You smelled divine.

"Mando he's still staring." You whispered against his cowl which was surprisingly soft.

"Shall we make him even more uncomfortable?"

"Mhm." You nodded, kissing Mando on his cool beskar helmet, where his cheek would be. "How's that?"

"You can do better than that." Din encouraged, enjoying the little game.

"Oh yeah!" You grinned, feeling your competitive spirit rising. "How about this?" You lowered your head, leaning against his neck, kissing him through the cowl. You could feel his warm neck and strong pulse against your lilps. He swallowed hard, his hand tightening over your thigh.

"We should walk out now. Really make him jealous." Din suggested, mostly to stop you from giving him a full on erection.

"Oh yeah." You hopped off his lap, taking his large leather clad hand in yours. "Come on."

Once outside in the warm sun you laughed at your antics. You had never had so much fun. You used to fear your ex. He was mean and cruel. You felt safe now that you had Mando. You tried not to worry what would happen when Mando was gone. Din watched you hungrily, beaming up at him, your face lit up in the daylight. He subtly turned off his tracking view in his visor so he could just see you without any distractions on his screen.

"Thank you Mando."

"You're welcome." He let go of your hand making your face fall. "What's wrong?"

"I want to keep playing."

"What do you propose?" Din felt his cock twitch behind his flight suit.

"I think he would be really jealous if I had marks on my neck." You suggested boldly. Din shook his head in disbelief.

"You are not a prude, you know that? I'm sorry he said that to you."

"I was only a prude with him. He was ugly." You grimaced but recovered. "You're beautiful, Mando, and I want- I want you. Not just to make him jealous but I want you."

"Oh Ad'ika..." Din chuckled. "We can do both."

This led to Din taking you in the alleyway behind the cantina. First he knelt down between your legs and fingered you until you were dripping into his hand. He wanted to watch your little cunt squeeze and flutter. Your little mewls grew louder and louder until you came with a cry. Din loved how innocent you were. You didn't even know how to be quiet. You didn't hide your pleasure. He hoped your shitty ex was listening. Hearing your sounds that he never got to draw from you.

Next he stood lifting you up with ease onto his hips. You were already delirious from your first orgasm you shot up to the stars when he entered you. You tightened your legs around his waist, holding onto his broad shoulders. All thoughts of being seen or herd left your mind. You were overwhelmed, Mando pushing into every corner of your senses along with your pussy.

"Fuck..." Din grunted, feeling your hot walls suck him to the hilt. It had been so long he realized how sensitive he was. And you were so tight. He held your ass up, pulling it to grind into him with every stroke.

"Oh Mando!" Your head fell back against the wall. "This-it's so good."

"Mmm you feel amazing, ad'ika. So fucking perfect." Din watched your face slacken with the pleasure he was giving you, your plush lips teasing him. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to put his lips over every inch of you. Your eyes were drooping, staring right into his visor.

"Stay with me, little one. Look- look at us." He fucked harder, leaning back slightly despite the ache in his lower back, watching the point where your flesh met. Your little swollen clit was sitting right on top of his dick, smashing against his pelvis with every stroke.

"Oh-Maker-I'm gonna cum again." You cried, scrabbling against his shoulders for better leverage. You wanted to fuck him back. Din readjusted his grip allowing one hand to be free to circle your clit.

"Who's making you cum?"

"You! You, Mando!" You cried feeling your stomach go incredibly tight then spasming with your orgasm.

"You think anyone else could make you feel this?" Din sped up also nearing his own climax. His voice was rough and torn up, cracking and stressing the voicecoder.

"No-no one else!" You answered eagerly, wanting to please him. "I don't want anyone else."

"Good girl. Fuck- you want to be mine?" He felt his cock twitching. He was seconds away from cumming inside of you. This was the last chance to pull out.

"I want to-be yours- please." You nodded vigorously, looking up at him so he could see you meant it. You dug your heels into his lower back. His grunts became short and quick with each thrust then he came abruptly, crashing his forehead against yours. You gasped feeling the spot where you were joined grow incredibly wet.

"Stars..." Din hissed feeling his pleasure prickle down his spine into his cock. "You mean it, ad'ika?"

"Yes. Show me the stars, Mando."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My masterlist

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @ajeff855 @what-iwish-you-knew @kirsteng42 @fan-of-encouragement @sleep-tight1 @pascalisfairyy @ceniington, @prettypedros 🧁, @pascal-rascal424 @axshadows @prideandpascal @frenchyjuju @pedrosmustache @blackmarketmummy @Idreamofboobear @pretty-brown-eyess @persephones-garden @javierpinme @mylittlesenaar @bellaorisa @elinedjarin @beskarboobs @beskar-candy @dindjarinneedsahug @anaaaispunk @headinthestarz

Din Taglist: @a-skov @pasckles

[calpalirwin]

Come Back

Summary: It was a standard routine mission gone wrong in all the worst ways possible, or so the world, and most of the Avengers, was led to believe. 

A/N: When my 5sos writing addiction crosses paths with my superhero addiction. Beta-read by @jessalyn-jpeg​ thank you!!!!

Word Count: 10.8k

And away, and away we go!

__

“Hostage situation,” Ashton said, slapping the folder down in the middle of the table. 

Y/N’s fingers grazed the manila folder emblazoned with a giant “MISSION” stamp in the middle of it. Fuckin’ subtle, she thought with an eye roll. 

“Am I boring you already?” Ashton all but snapped at the woman, his arms crossing over his chest.

She raised her gaze to meet his, holding it steadily. Aside from Calum and Michael, Y/N and Ashton were the closest in age, with Y/N having the advantage over the man, a fact she knew he despised even though she graciously allowed him to take the lead at every opportunity. Leading had never been her cup of tea, but it was definitely Ashton’s, the arrogant little bastard. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, flashing him a smile. “Captain,” Y/N added as an afterthought. 

Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting his stare over to Calum, seeing if he’d help tame the woman’s snark, so that Ashton could get on with the team meeting, preferably without a headache. Calum just gave his sister a small shove, which she gladly took as a way to knock into Michael on her other side, the blonde’s arm going to rest along the back of his girlfriend’s chair.

When Ashton cleared his throat, Y/N rolled her eyes again. “Oh, just get on with it, you prat. Hostage situation. And ready? 3, 2, 1, action!”

“Yes,” Ashton said, his tone taking on the edge that was aptly referred to Ashton’s leader voice. “We, that is SHIELD, infiltrated a Hydra base about a month back in an attempt to get a spy on the inside. Problem is, that SHIELD agent was working with Hydra, and led our men straight into a trap.”

“And women,” Y/N added.

“Yes, and our women agents as well, thank you, audience participation.”

“So our task is to do what exactly? Search and rescue?” Luke asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Great…” the blue eyes rolled.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly glamorous, but it’s well within our authorization to carry out ourselves.” Ashton puffed out his chest a little, like he was proud to be trusted with such a high class mission. 

“Blow up New York a few times saving the world and everyone’s a critic…” Y/N joked half-heartedly. “Face it, Ash, we’re an over glorified search and rescue team. Just tell us when we’re headed out.”

“Jet leaves in a half hour. Folder contains more details regarding our individual parts and a map of the compound.”

Luke’s face lit up at the potential that individual assignments might have a little bit more glory to them, eagerly snatching the folder and passing out the packets inside to each team member before tearing into his. “Aw! C’mon!” he groaned, tossing the papers back on the table. “We never get anything cool anymore…”

Y/N kept her quip about how Luke should speak for himself to herself, as she glanced at her own personal assignment. Fuckin’ hell…

“You alright, babe?” Michael asked, his fingers rubbing at her neck as he started to pull his arm back across her chair.

She crumpled her assignment in her fist. “Hmm? I’m fine,” she grinned, kissing his nose.

Michael blew out his air in a huff, “Yeah, I know the mission’s kinda bullshit action wise. But when we get back we can play with these new arrows I’ve been working on. These ones have tracking technology, so even if I was to miss, I wouldn’t.”

“Aw, but you never miss a shot.”

Michael smirked, “I know. But now you guys can use them too. Doesn’t hurt to pick up an extra skill.”

“Sounds like a date,” she said, this time pressing a kiss to his lips, savoring the moment. In a couple of months to a year, she added in her head, because what Michael didn’t know, and what she couldn’t tell him, was that these were going to be their last moments with each other for a while.

~~~

Exactly a half hour after Ashton had dismissed his team, the group of five sat strapped in the jet, the engines rumbling as it took off, headed for the Hydra base. “Everyone has their assignment?” Ashton asked, eyes darting across everyone.

“Yes, Dad,” they all mock-saluted.

The hazel eyes rolled, and his jaw ticked in annoyance. “If someone else wants to be leader, be my guest.”

“So then I could be the prat everyone hates?” Luke scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, Luke. We’d hate you regardless if you're the leader or not,” Michael joked, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

“Hehehe,” Luke laughed in a high-pitched, mocking manner.

“Nobody has a problem with you being leader, Ash. You know this,” Y/N said. “Plus we all know that you’re just the one relaying orders from the higher ups. You’re just better at it than the rest of us. I mouth off too much, and these three are babies. Face it, you’re the perfect soldier.”

Ashton’s expression softened a bit at her words, the closest thing to a compliment she’s ever given him. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.”

“Oh, save it. It doesn’t make you less annoying.”

“Babies? Who are you calling babies?” Michael asked, poking a finger in his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Yeah!” Calum huffed. “No babies here!”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to pinch Calum’s cheek. “You will always be a baby to me, baby brother.” Then she turned her attention to Michael, “And you? You’re just my babe,” she grinned, kissing his nose.

“And me?” Luke asked, perking up his seat.

“A literal infant,” she grinned wider while everyone else nodded, including Ashton.

The rest of the jet ride was spent doing last minute training (Ashton), reviewing personal assignments (Y/N), tinkering with new technology (Calum and Michael), or sleeping (Luke) until Ashton called everyone back for a quick meeting.

“We’re approaching our drop off point.”

“Drop off point or…?” Luke whistled before slamming his hand down on the table. “Jumping point?”

Ashton held up 2 fingers, and Luke grinned, pumping his fist in small victory. “We can’t risk the jet getting anywhere near their radar, so we’re landing roughly here,” Ashton continued, pointing at the map. “Hydra base is here,” he moved his finger to where there was a giant red circle. “And safe to assume it’s heavily guarded on the outside.”

Y/N studied the distance between where Ashton said the landing spot was versus where the base was. “So we’re landing about a mile out, and we’re just gonna knock on the front door, hoping they let us in?”

Ashton snorted. “God no. Well, kinda. Luke’s breaking in to shut down their security protocols. From there, Cal should be able to hack and override their system. Mike keeps our path clear from the outside. Making our job,” he waved a finger between Y/N and himself, and Y/N gulped wondering how much he knew about everyone’s personal assignments, “easier for helping Luke get the hostages out.”

She breathed in relief. Good. Ashton was under the usual impression of personal assignments from previous missions, and not the other, slightly more complicated bit to the otherwise usual mission. Luke, with his ability to shrink and grow with the push of a button, courtesy of Calum and Michael’s technology, was the thief. The one with the power to get small enough to squeeze in anywhere unnoticed. Which set him up perfectly to gain security access for Calum, who could then override any system remotely, alongside piloting his drone for extra security coverage/fighting power. Michael usually hung back with Calum to keep Calum company, while being both an extra set of eyes, and an extra fighter with his hundred percent success rate as an archer. Which left super soldier Ashton, and non-super soldier, but highly trained martial artist Y/N to provide the bulk of fending off enemies. A ragtag team of not exactly super, but definitely better than your average SHIELD agent, SHIELD had dubbed the Avengers. “Sounds like we should get ready to jump then.”

While jumping was Luke’s favorite part of the mission, the rest of the team paled a little standing in the doorway of the jet, air rushing all around. But when Ashton yelled “Go!” they all jumped, Luke first with a whoop of “Showtime!” Y/N sucked in a breath, following Luke out and grabbing Michael’s hand to pull him after her, the ground hurtling upwards at her. 

“Pull!” Ashton’s voice directed in everyone’s ears, and five parachutes deployed in unison, Y/N jerking wildly with the pullback.

“Whoa, easy there,” Michael’s voice was both in her earpiece and shouting above the wind, his hand squeezing hers. “You’re good, babe.”

“Ugh, I fuckin’ hate that part,” she groaned, her stomach churning.

“And I hate this part,” Calum groaned along with his sister, before all anyone heard was his feet hitting the ground and his string of curses as his body rolled with his landing.

“You gotta learn to land better,” Y/N and Ashton both scolded, as Y/N’s own feet touched down, and she ran a little with the momentum so she didn’t roll like her brother.

“You gotta learn to land better,” Calum mimicked as he picked himself up off the ground, shooting Luke a glare, “What are you so fuckin’ happy about?”

“That shit is the fuckin’ best!” Luke whooped in a whisper. “Fuck yeah! I’m pumped!”

“Good,” Ashton chuckled. “How do you feel about more flying?”

“Aw sick! Is Michael gonna shoot me?!”

“Not the way I’d like to,” Michael grinned sarcastically, reaching behind him for his bow and arrow. “Shrink down, giant man.”

While Luke shrunk down to the size of a tic-tac, Ashton started instructing Michael on where to shoot, but Michael brushed him off. “Yeah, yeah. Close enough to get him inside, but not anywhere that’ll draw attention. Cal, you got eyes yet?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna be able to get the drone in there until Luke gets in so I can hack the system.”

“That’s fine, I got it,” Luke said in the ear piece. “Cal, I’m on your right shoe. Lift up?”

Calum bent down to pluck up Luke, placing him carefully on Michael’s nocked arrow. “Just tell me where I’m aiming, Cal,” Michael said, breathing steadily as he pulled back his bow.

“Quarter inch to the right,” Calum directed. “If you aim low, Luke can run in from the ground, or if you aim high, there’s a branch that he can access the second floor from. Shooter’s choice.”

“Security’s on the second floor,” Luke and Michael both said, and with that, Michael inhaled, and on the exhale, sent Luke and the arrow flying towards Hydra, undetectable.

“And now we wait,” Ashton commented, stretching his arms up over his head. “Y/N, we-”

“Won’t have much time between Cal hacking the system and Hydra finding out. And Cal and Mike can only provide so much coverage while staying out of sight. So we’re on a time clock of maybe 5 minutes if we’re lucky. I know, Ash. I go left, you go right?”

He nodded. “Get ready to run.”

Y/N glanced at Calum. “How much time before Luke gets into the system for you?”

“Thirty seconds. Make it quick.”

She turned to Michael, tears brimming up in her eyes. “Aw, babe. It’ll be fine,” he chuckled lightly, kissing her.

“I know,” she answered in a shaky breath, resting her forehead against his, committing everything to memory from the sharpness of his green eyes, to the pink tint of his lips. To his calloused fingertips as they cupped her face, and the scratch of his beard under her own hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he chuckled again. “Now go kick some ass.”

“Luke’s in. 15 seconds,” Calum told Y/N and Ashton, so Y/N kissed Michael as deeply and fiercely as she could, clinging to every bit of those last 15 seconds. “2… I’m in. System’s down.” But Y/N wasn't ready to let go yet.

“Y/N!” Ashton growled harshly, dragging her by the back of her shirt and then shoving her forward. “Fuckin’ move!”

She swallowed her storm of feelings, shutting that part of herself off, and switched fully into Mission Mode, ignoring Calum's chuckle of “Damn, what kind of good luck kiss was that?” and Michael’s shy but proud, “I dunno, but I ain’t complaining.”

With the security breach came the storm of chaos that allowed Y/N and Ashton to enter the compound without raising any serious flags. With Ashton headed to the right flank, Y/N went left, and the first chance she had, she took it.

The Hydra soldier looked to be about her size, their attention not zeroing in on her until Y/N already grabbed them in a chokehold. “Sorry about this,” she whispered as she snapped their neck in a swift motion, then dragged them into a nearby supply closet. “Ash, Y/N, I located the hostages. Where are you?” Luke asked in the earpiece.

“Coming up on your right, Luke,” Ashton confirmed.

“Got in a small tangle, be there soon,” Y/N grunted as she started switching clothes with the body.

“God damn it, Hood…”

“Which one?” both her and Calum asked with an amused glint, their favorite little bit to annoy their captain.

“You know which one,” Ashton hissed. “Cal, time estimate. Mike, coverage report. Y/N, get a move on, seriously!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Y/N muttered before taking out her earpiece and stomping on it, leaving it with the dead Hydra soldier along with her tracker just outside the doorway of the supply closet. “Just not the way you think,” she then muttered quietly to herself before hurrying after the other Hydra soldiers, running for the back of the compound. “What the hell is going on?” she snapped at one of them, putting as much authority in her voice as she could.

“It’s the Avengers. Initiating protocol 78. Get in a vehicle and get out. 2 minutes until denotation.”

Denotation?! Son of a bitch… Ashton and Luke were still getting the hostages out. She had to warn them, but… SON OF A BITCH!

Y/N shook off the panic and kept moving, trusting that Ashton and Luke knew what they were doing, and that Calum and Michael could keep them safe and aware of the limited time before the whole base went up in a fiery explosion. Her priority wasn’t on the rescue mission anymore. It never had been. Hers was to carry out the original mission that had resulted in this mission in the first place. Get into Hydra. Learn what they had planned. Destroy them from the inside. But damn, it would be a lot easier if she didn’t have to hide it from the guys. Her guys. Her baby brother. Her boyfriend. I’m safe, she screamed in her head. I’m safe! Look after each other, please!

While she got herself onto a vehicle headed out, she caught a glimpse of Ashton and Luke herding people out through a side gate and into the neighboring woods.

“Hood, where the fuck are you?” Ashton hissed

“Which one?” only Calum responded, then, “Shit… Y/N?!”

“Cal, where is she?!” Ashton and Michael demanded at the same time.

“I- I don’t understand. Her tracker is still by the left side of the compound where she went in.” Calum started fiddling around with the drone, trying to find his sister with it. “Y/N? Y/N, do you copy?”

“Luke, take the hostages back to Cal and Mike,” Ashton instructed, his voice tight, but controlled under pressure. “Cal, where did you say she was last?”

“To your left. 50 yards. She should be right there, Ash, I don’t understand!” His voice was high with panic. 

“I don’t see her,” Ashton reported, and there was a loud bang as he smashed his fist against something. “I don’t fuckin’ see her!”

“Maybe she’s on her way back!” Michael said hopefully. “Maybe she was helping clear the way for you and Luke. You know she can’t turn down a fight.”

“Heh,” Ashton chuckled. “Yeah maybe. I mean, these trackers and earpieces only stay on so well when you’re kicking some serious ass, ya know?”

“Exactly,” Michael chuckled in relief. “It’s Y/N we’re talking about.”

“Well let’s hope that’s the case, and that Ash is the fuckin’ Flash because guys… this compound’s gonna blow,” Calum spoke up, his voice still holding a small wobble.

“How much time?” Ashton asked, already running for an exit.

“40 seconds give or take.”

“Alright, I’m ou- whoa, shit.”

“What?!” three voices demanded.

“It’s Y/N’s tracker and earpiece. Just lying here in the fuckin’ hallway… and guys… there’s a body…” Ashton gave a small grunt as he flipped the body over with his boot. “Oh, thank God!” he laughed. “It’s not her! Probably just a scuffle where some of her gear fell.”

“Okay, well 1.) thanks for the heart attack and 2.) if it’s not her, then get the fuck out!” Calum yelled.

“Okay, but if it’s not her body then she’s fuckin’ missing, so where is she?!” Michael asked.

“She’s not with me,” Luke told them. “I haven’t seen her this whole time.”

“I don’t have eyes on her either,” Ashton chimed in, running as fast and far as he could before the compound blew.

“Cal, anything?!” Michael asked, now growing frantic as he scanned around, hoping to find his girlfriend lounging against some tree behind him. Safe. Laughing at her boys for ever thinking she was in harm’s way.

“No…” Calum choked, tears starting to spill down his cheeks. “C’mon, c’mon…” he prayed. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

“C’mon, Y/N, where the hell are you?”

In the distance, Y/N heard the boom of the explosion, the vehicle shaking with the sound. She hoped her boys were safe and okay.  And they were safe. But they were far from okay. Because what she couldn’t hear was Calum’s broken sob and Michael’s heartbreaking scream of her name.

~~~

The jet ride back to headquarters was heavy with tension. To keep his mind occupied, Ashton set to work getting statements from the hostages. Calum and Michael sat in their seats, every muscle tightened, faces blank and frozen, tear tracks running down their cheeks. Luke was the only one who looked remotely comfortable, lounging against the wall of the jet, legs stretched out, his index finger tapping an unrelenting rhythm against his jaw as he hummed to himself.

“Would you knock it off?!” Calum tried to yell at Luke, but his throat was rubbed raw, so it came out as a hoarse whisper.

“What? I’m thinking!” Luke defended.

“Thinking isn’t supposed to be loud.”

“What are you thinking, Luke?” Ashton asked, his own voice clear, but weary as he ran a hand over his face and then through his hair.

“Y/N’s not an idiot,” he started.

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit,” Calum spat.

Ashton held up a hand. “Let him talk, Cal. Go on, Luke.”

Luke straightened up, drawing his legs up, and resting his arms across his knees. “She’s not an idiot,” he repeated, studying his fingernails to keep his mind on track. “She always knew what she was doing. So she would have known that the mission felt off.”

“What do you mean, the mission felt off?” Ashton asked.

“Oh, c’mon, Ash. You couldn’t feel it, too? We got in and out without running into anyone trying to stop us. They didn’t care that we were getting out the hostages. They were evacuating. They had whatever they needed and were going to blow the place up whether we were there or not.”

“Okay. And what does that have to do with Y/N?” Ashton continued to prompt.

“I’m saying she knew. So she went in search of any plans she could get her hands on. Anything that might have gotten left behind in the scramble to evacuate sooner than they had originally planned.”

“So you’re suggesting that instead of helping us like she was supposed to, Y/N went off to try and get us more information?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Hmm…” Ashton thought, mulling over Luke’s theory. “That does sound exactly like the type of shit Y/N would pull…”

“BULLSHIT!” Michael screamed suddenly, jumping to his feet. “THAT’S FUCKIN’ BULLSHIT!”

“How is it bullshit?!” Luke yelled back, rising to stand toe-to-toe with Michael.

“BECAUSE IF IT WAS TRUE THEN WHERE IS SHE, LUKE?! HUH?! DO YOU SEE HER IN HERE?! CUZ I DON’T!”

“Obviously she’s not with us,” Luke scoffed. “But she got out, that I’m sure of. She’s somewhere.”

“Oh…” Michael nodded, his sudden drop in tone frightening. “So, what you’re saying is that WE left her behind! Our teammate! His sister! My girlfriend! And we just LEFT her?!”

“It’s better than the alternative of believing that she’s DEAD!”

“Oh, cuz that’s SO MUCH BETTER! What your theory suggests, Luke, is that WE either failed our teammate by leaving her behind, or she’s dead. Regardless of which of those options is the truth, WE FAILED HER! Whatever happened to her is OUR FAULT!” His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he raised them, whether to hit Luke or the wall behind him, no one was sure. Then, a sob was wracking through Michael’s body, his fists dropping back to his sides as his body crumpled. “Oh, God,” he cried quietly, curling up on the ground, his body shaking with the force of his cries. “Y/N, I’m so sorry… It’s all our fault… Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

~~~

Five months later found Y/N in a place within Hydra where she had enough access to send word out to SHIELD about Hydra’s plans: the creation of the an undefeatable army made up of highly skilled super soldiers injected with a recently perfected and modified serum that made Ashton’s super soldier skills look like child’s play.

The same five months found 4/5ths of the former team, smarter than they were before, but at the cost of diminished spirits as Ashton laid the all too familiar manila folder in the middle of the table, with its pitch-black “MISSION” stamp in the center.

Michael’s fingers went out to graze the stamp, his eyes meeting Calum’s as they shared a weak smile, both of them missing the way Y/N used to call the folder stupid for stating so clearly what it was. 

“We’ve received intel about Hydra's latest plans. It’s not good,” Ashton said, pausing for a sarcastic comment about how if Hydra was involved then of course it wasn’t good that never came. “They’ve not only modified the super soldier serum, they’ve also perfected it. A hundred percent success rate. Hostages don’t stay hostages for very long.” Again, he paused, waiting for a witty quip, but was only given nods of understanding. He let out a small sigh. “With the intel, we also got information of where their supply of the serum is, and where they’re making it. As far as our source knows, it’s just the one lab. Our mission is slightly different than what we’re used to as it’s a three-parter. The first part is pretty standard. Get in and release the hostages they have before they can be turned. The second part is also getting more information about the lab and the serum. We have to make sure that this is the only lab before we can go about initiating Part Three, which is destroying any and all labs we learn about. But today, our focus is on Part One and Two. Part Three will be carried out at a later date once SHIELD has time to go over everything and assess the situation.”

“After I get in to override security for Cal, I can start looking around for lab plans,” Luke decided. “If you can handle the hostages, Ash.”

Ashton nodded. “Yeah, I can handle that. Mike, I might need you closer to the action though, rather than staying back with Cal, and providing your backup there. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“I can get closer, it’s fine,” Michael replied numbly.

“Perfect. And how are those new trackers you and Cal have been working on?”

“Ready. And injectable. Once injected, Cal has access to turning them on or off, so we’ll never have to think about trackers again. Like potentially losing one…”

“And some of them can be fitted onto your arrows, yes? So maybe we can stick a lab worker or two with them?” Ashton followed up, ignoring the bitter edge in Michael’s tone.

“Yes.”

“Alright. We leave in a half hour.”

~~~

Y/N was patrolling around the upper deck of the Hydra base when both an alarm sounded and her earpiece crackled to life. “Security breach. Fuckin’ Avengers…”

“Secure the hostages and the lab,” came a different order.

“On it,” Y/N answered with several other voices, but she stayed rooted in her spot, knowing her old team’s moves by heart. Luke was somewhere in the compound, no doubt hiding in his shrunken version. Michael would have taken a closer position now for Ashton’s sake to help keep the path clear for Ashton to escort the hostages to safety. And Calum would be flying the drone, being everywhere the rest of the team couldn’t be, informing them of every move.

The familiar buzz of a drone a few seconds later came as no surprise, and she turned to the sound, grinning.

“Y/N?!” the drone’s speaker yelled in shock.

“Hi, baby brother,” she said, waggling her fingers in a wave. Then, her lips turned down in a mock-pout. “Sorry about this,” she told him, grabbing the wings of the drone.

“Yeah, me too,” Calum’s voice said, as he pushed a button that shot out an arrow as Y/N brought the drone down over her knee, cracking the device in half. She let out a slow hiss as the arrow passed straight through her shoulder, and then embedded itself in the wall behind her.

“Tell Mike to up your archery practice,” she told the broken drone as she dropped the two pieces, then took off.

“Y/N?!” Ashton, Luke, and Michael were yelling in Calum’s ear. “You found her?! I told you she was alive! Where is she, Cal?!”

“Bitch broke my drone!” was all Calum could come up with as a reply.

“Calum!” Ashton’s voice was sharp, Michael’s desperate.

“Give me a second, she broke my drone!” Calum grumbled, his relief about his sister being okay mixing with the rage only siblings could have for one another when one of them broke something of the other’s. “Okay, okay. Yes! Fuck yes! Whoohoo! Mikey-boy the tracker arrows work!”

“Of course they work,” Michael scoffed proudly.

“Well, I sort of shot through her, so I wasn’t sure if the tracker got in her, or the wall.”

“You shot my girlfriend?!”

“She BROKE MY DRONE!”

“You can build a new one,” Ashton told him with a sigh.

“You shot my girlfriend!” Michael continued to screech.

“I had to get the tracker on her!” Calum protested.

“Well, fuckin’ track her then, and get her out of there!”

“Cal, send me and Luke her location,” Ashton ordered. “Whoever’s closest tries to get her. But Luke, we gotta head out before they surround us. This isn’t like last time. They’re standing their ground.”

“She was on the upper deck on your side, Ash. She’s headed your way now, Luke. Towards the lab,” Calum reported, his eyes on Y/N’s tracker.

“Fuck, I gotta get out of here with these guys. Luke, get Y/N,” Ashton said, guiding a small group of hostages to safety.

“I’m in the lab, I got h- Oh, fuck me!” Luke’s words of hope died down as he glanced out the window of the lab. “I gotta shrink back down if I’m gonna get out of here. They’re fuckin’ swarming the lab. Ash, that’s good news for you because it means your path is clear.” He grabbed as many folders as he could gather in his arms, before hitting a button to shrink back down, just as Hydra soldiers muscled their way into the lab, looking around for anything out of place. “ ‘Scuse me. Pardon me. Just gonna squeeze past…” Luke talked aloud as he sprinted across the tops of boots headed for the exit. “You know, maybe I should get some of those trackers next time. Got plenty of feet to stab them into right now.”

“Duly noted,” Michael said, loosing a volley of arrows, sinking as many trackers into Hydra agents as he could. “Did you get Y/N?”

“No…” Luke replied in disappointment. “Ash?”

“No, I had to get out with whoever I could. Luke, you out?”

“Headed back now. I snagged some plans, if that’s any consolation.”

“That’s awesome, Luke. Thanks,” Ashton said, but there was a lingering note of dejection that they couldn’t get Y/N too. “She’s alive, and Cal got a tracker in her, which is more than we could have hoped for anyway.”

“I know. But still. Sorry, Mike.”

Michael shook his head, straightening his bow and quiver on his back before following after Ashton and Luke back to Calum. “It’s fine. Ash is right. We’ll work with what we got.”

“We’ll get her back. Don’t worry,” Ashton said, his words mostly directed at Calum and Michael, but also as a vow on his and Luke’s part. They’d get their girl back if it was the last thing the team ever did.

~~~

Y/N sat with her mouth set in a tight line as the nurse patched up her wound. “You super soldiers are all the same. The blank expressions. Immune to normal pain,” the nurse commented as they worked.

“Not a super soldier,” Y/N replied numbly, feeling the thread pull her skin back together. “Just a regular psycho.”

“Mmm,” the nurse chuckled. “And this was ‘just some light training,’ yes?” They gestured at the wound.

“Sibling rivalry gone too far, actually,” Y/N corrected.

“Mmm, well in my experience, few things come between siblings. You will be fine.”

“I hope so,” she muttered under her breath, but Y/N wasn’t so sure. How did she justify leaving her brother, her boyfriend, and the rest of her team in the dark about a mission they were all part of? How did she explain that she had to let them think that she had succumbed to the worst of fates? That she had to let them deal with the heartache of thinking she was dead, only to find out she was working for the enemy? SHIELD assignment or not, that wasn’t the kind of news she could just waltz back home with and offer up a simple “Hey, sorry I’ve been gone.” Y/N and Calum had suffered a lot between petty sibling issues, like when he first learned she was sleeping with his best friend, to much bigger issues regarding missions as part of the Avengers team. But this? Playing double agent while having to leave him completely in the dark? There was no coming back from this. And Michael… Oh, the betrayal he must be feeling. And mix that with the guilt and blind rage? If he was functioning at all, she bet that it was an ugly sight. A shell of the man she loved. Any ounce of humanity turned off to not drown under the pain.

Still, a part of her hoped that Michael or, perhaps even Calum, would turn against orders to try and stage a useless rescue of her, now that they knew part of the truth. And while she knew it would be a meeting that ended poorly on all sides, she could at the very least slip them a note. So back in the safety of her room, she quickly penned a note, then tucked it into her uniform.

~~~ 

Similar to last time, the ride back to headquarters was tense. Ashton kept busy by collecting statements from the hostages they managed to rescue. Then, he joined Luke in pouring over the statements and the documents Luke got his hands on in the lab.

Calum kept his eyes glued to the device that held the locations of all the trackers, watching the way Y/N’s blinked steadily.

Michael sat off on his own in sullen silence, his mind racing, hands clenching and unclenching into fists in a repetitive manner. He wanted to order the jet to turn around. To go back and get Y/N if he had to carry her over his shoulder himself. He was angry at his team, and himself for leaving her behind for a second time. Angry that he couldn’t stop failing her at every turn. But in the anger was a twinge of hope and relief. She was alive. Which meant that they could get her back. Luke had been right along. She knew what she was doing. But he still selfishly wanted her safe next to him. He wanted her laugh ringing out as she annoyed Ashton. He wanted to be able to smell her shampoo mixing with her sweat when she rested her head against his shoulder, complaining about how she couldn’t wait to get back and take a long hot shower. He wanted to be able to cover her cheeks in a blush as he whispered dirty words in her ear about the things he’d do when he joined her in said shower.

“Could you stop?” Calum asked, snapping Michael out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Michael hummed.

“The banging. Wanna stop?” It was less of a question and more of a command.

Michael looked down at his fists, noting the redness form along the outer edge of his palms and pinky fingers. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, placing his hands in his lap, not even aware he’d been banging his hands against the floor.

“I want her back too, Mike. Just as much as you do.”

Enough to break protocol and go rogue? Michael wanted to ask, but all he ended up saying was “I know.”

When they got back to headquarters, Ashton and Luke continued their work of looking over every word on every scrap of paper. Calum wordlessly joined them, his attention still held captive by the location tracker with it’s slow, steady blinks. No one thought it to be out of the ordinary, when Michael opted to head straight to the armory. Just hand waving and mumbles of “Yeah, could you?”s.

So Michael lugged the bag of gear into the armory, setting to the task of putting things out, and taking stock. But instead of putting his own gear away as well, he prepped it, having no intention of sitting around waiting for orders to be handed down. Not now when he knew where Y/N was. Fuck the rules and regulations. He was done with letting her down, letting her wonder why her team still hadn’t come for her. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m coming. I promise,” he mumbled under his breath as he left the armory, dropping his bag in the doorway of his room, then going to find the rest of the team. “Hey, Cal?”

“Yeah?” the man asked, not lifting his head.

“You got a spare one of those?”

“One of these?” Calum questioned, holding up the device.

“Yeah. I, uh… Just wanna be able to see her, you know?” he half-lied, making his voice crack for extra sympathy points.

“Yeah, course,” Calum nodded, pushing his way to his feet. He walked a few feet to a docking station that held various other forms of tech. “Here,” Calum said, grabbing one and logging into it. He tapped a few buttons until the familiar map pulled up. “This is just hers, and this,” he swiped across the screen to pull up a menu. “You can click to see the location of any tracker. We’re 1-4,” he twirled a finger to signal he meant himself, Ashton, Luke, and Michael. “And Y/N is 5. And the others are various trackers we got in Hydra agents today, or just not in use yet.”

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael took the device in his hands, then titled his head slightly towards Ashton and Luke. “I think I’m just gonna shower, then call it a day.”

“We’ll holler if we find anything interesting. Feel better, Mike,” Ashton told him.

“Night,” Luke mumbled, even though it was barely noon.

“Night,” Michael repeated, heading back towards the rooms, swallowing the rise of guilt of lying to his team. But they’d understand that this was something he had to do. Or so he hoped.

In his own room, he turned on music, then pulled a knife from his bag. Taking a few quick rapid breaths, he cut into the skin of his arm, prying his tracker loose. Hissing through his teeth, he dropped the tracker on his bed before bandaging up his arm. “Fuck,” he shuddered. “Argh! Okay. Here we go.”

~~~

Not being able to risk taking out the jet, it took Michael until well after the sun went down before he came within sight of the Hydra base with its giant searchlights, both lighting up the place, and casting it in menacing shadows.

Michael ditched the motorcycle well before he needed to as a safety precaution, before creeping the rest of the way on foot. His breath came out in huffed little clouds as he headed straight for where Y/N was. If the tracker was as accurate as Michael wanted to believe, she was right where she was when she’d had her skirmish with Calum earlier. Upper level deck, left side.

It was only as Michael got closer, that he started to realize he had no plan for getting in. “Time for a distraction,” he whispered to himself, digging through his bag for a grenade. “Showtime, bitches.” He pulled the pin and sent the grenade flying. He crouched low, covering his ears, and waited.

There was a loud bang, and then a startled scrambling from inside the gate, as a couple guards rushed out to check what had happened. Michael snuck up behind one, covering their mouth with his hand and dragging them backwards. The guard kicked uselessly at the ground, thrashing about as they tried to get free from Michael’s hold until they finally went limp. Quickly, Michael took their earpiece, before swapping clothes with the unconscious guard he left slumped up against a tree.

“What was that?” a voice was barking in the earpiece.

“We don’t know sir. We don’t see anything,” a handful of voices answered.

“Well if you find anything, put a stop to it!” the voice barked again.

“Did you find anything?” a voice called out in the dark, a flashlight swinging in Michael’s direction.

“No,” he called back quickly, heart pounding in his ears as the flashlight stopped advancing. “All clear.”

“Stupid fuckin’ pranks…” the other voice grumbled, the flashlight retreating. “Headed back in,” the guard spoke into the earpiece. “All clear.”

“Copy that,” a different voice replied.

“Well?” the first voice demanded, the small beam of flashlight turning back to Michael. “Are you coming?!”

“Right! Yes!” Michael said, willing his feet to move, and controlling his breathing to not give away his excitement as he crossed into the Hydra base. He still had the problem of needing to get to Y/N and get them out without raising any alarms. Which started with first getting away from the group of three guards he walked in with without anyone stopping him. So, not thinking too much about it, Michael slowed his walk before stopping altogether. And when his guard counterparts paid no mind, he slipped his way between buildings, hiding in the shadows as he checked the tracker.

He walked purposefully towards the stairs that would lead him to the upper deck, hardening his gaze and sweeping it across the grounds, like he was just another guard doing nightly patrol duty. “I don’t know what Luke’s always bitching about. This shit’s easy and I’m full-sized,” Michael remarked under his breath as he climbed the stairs and rounded a corner.

At the end of the walkway stood a single guard, their hair obscured by the black cap on their head. But even then, it didn’t matter. He’d know her anywhere, in any disguise. It was the way she held herself, her chin slightly tilted towards the sky, her shoulders squared but relaxed, her right foot always slightly shifted more forward than her left foot. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but the words died on his tongue. Was he just supposed to say “Hi” like he hadn’t left her for dead for five months?

It turned out, he didn’t need to say anything, as he took a step in her direction, his boots echoing off the metal floor. She whirled around, her dark eyes zeroing in on him. At the very least he expected a grateful smile as her head tilted slightly to the side, and she blinked slowly, trying to determine if her mind was playing tricks on her. But instead, she just fixed him with a cold steely look that sent the wrong kind of shiver down his spine. He cursed himself as he faltered in his next step. He had never once entertained the idea that she could have been brainwashed in all this time. “Y/N,” he said slowly, holding up his hands. “C’mon. It’s me. Let me get you out of here.”

“You need to leave,” she spat.

“Not without you.”

“Michael, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Don’t make me do this…” she whispered, bowing her head ever so slightly.

“Do what? I’m here to take you home, babe. C’mon!”

She crouched, tilting her head so her eyes met his. “Final warning.”

Michael shifted a protective stance of his own, raising his fists. “So this is really how you wanna have this reunion, huh?”

“It’s the only way.”

Michael dodged as her fist came swinging at his jaw. “Fine. Have it your way, then,” he growled, throwing his own punch that landed on her body. When she huffed in annoyance and slight pain, an apology was ready to fly off his lips.

She used his pause to tackle him, the walkway rattling with the force of his body hitting the ground. “C’mon, I know you hit harder than that,” she taunted, connecting a rapid succession of blows against his upper torso.

He twisted underneath her, bringing up his arms to block her hits. “Just come with me!” he begged, as he threw his arms forward, sending her skiddering backwards off of him.

“I can’t!” she yelled, charging at him again.

He did his best to block her attacks, but some hits still found a place to land, small grunts leaving his mouth at each connection.

“Fight back!” she yelled again, aiming for his jaw.

“No!” He snatched her wrist, as her knuckles started to brush into the side of his face. “I’m not gonna fight you, Y/N! This is ridiculous! I’m not trying to hurt you! I’m trying to save you!” he tried to reason as he spun her body so her back was flush against his chest, holding her tightly to him. “Baby, it’s me,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s me. It’s Mike. C’mon, baby. Come back with me. Come back to me. Please.”

A growl ripped out her throat as she brought one of her feet down on one his with as much strength as she had. And when Michael doubled over in pain, hearing the crunch of bone, her other leg kicked backwards, nailing him squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards.

“Y/N?” a voice sounded in both of their earpieces. “What’s going on?”

Y/N’s chest heaved as she stared down at Michael, who stared back up at her, struggling to find his breath. “Nothing,” she told the voice, before turning her back on Michael.

“Y/N,” Michael croaked out uselessly, coughing. His mouth tasted of blood and every part of his body felt like it was on fire.

He had no recollection of how he got off the compound and back to his motorcycle. Just like he had no recollection of driving all night back to Avengers headquarters.

He was, however, somewhat aware of his teammates' gasps of surprise when he dragged himself into the foyer of the building, as his body slumped against the cool tile, and he finally blacked out.

~~~

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Ashton thundered, his hand coming down hard on the table.

Michael stared blankly past Ashton, not bothering to give a response. Ashton didn’t care about the answer anyway, and it didn’t change anything. And now he understood what Y/N was doing, and she was trusting him to keep what he knew to himself.

Upon his arrival, Michael had slept for close to two days before finally waking in the infirmary, his body still badly battered, but his pain at a manageable level. He had trudged his way down to his room, rummaging through his things when the note fluttered down. With shaking fingers, he opened it, reading the hastily scrawled words, “It’s the mission. I’m safe. I love you,” in Y/N’s handwriting. He barely had enough time to shove the note in his pocket before Ashton was knocking on his open door, looking more pissed off than Michael had ever seen. Wordlessly, Ashton had jerked his thumb in the direction of the conference room, and wordlessly, Michael had shuffled after him, ready to accept whatever fate awaited him.

“Well?!” Ashton’s voice cracked like a whip as Michael did nothing but blink at him.

“What was I thinking?” Michael asked, his voice soft. “Oh, nothing really.”

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit, Mike!”

“Oh, lay off!” Calum snapped, coming to Michael’s defense. “Mike did exactly what we all wanted to do, but were too scared to do. He tried to get her back. If you wanna fault him for that, Ash, then you’re a bigger jackass than we all thought.”

Ashton sighed, sinking into his chair. “I’m not faulting him, Cal. But what he did was reckless. It could have jeopardized all the work we’ve been doing. I get that it’s Y/N, but we still have a job to do. No one person is bigger than the mission, even if she is your sister. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” Calum said with a sad shake of his head. “Fuck. You.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, Ash,” Michael said, his voice still soft. “Can I go?”

Ashton rubbed at his face in agitation, letting out a small scream. “Yeah,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. “Yeah. Go. Whatever. I don’t care.”

“So you’re just giving up?!” Calum asked, his angry and broken expression sweeping across his team. “Just like that? We’re done?”

“Until we get our new orders, yes,” Ashton told him.

“That’s BULLSHIT!” Calum exploded. “You!” He turned, jabbing a finger at Michael. “You’re just gonna walk away?! You go rogue to rescue her on your own, without me, and now you’re throwing in the towel too?!”

“You heard Ashton,” Michael shrugged.

“Oh, you’re so full of shit! All of you! Fuck SHIELD and fuck you lot! It’s Y/N! She needs us! She trusted us! How many times are we going to keep failing her?!” Tears fell hot and fast down Calum’s face. “Please!” he begged, his voice cracking. “We have to do something besides sit on our asses! Mike, please! You can’t give up on her! C’mon! I thought you were on my side! Mike! It’s Y/N… please…”

“No, it’s not,” Michael said bitterly. “It’s not, Y/N. This,” he gestured about his beat up body, “is not her.”

“Fuck you!” Calum cried into his hands, and let out a muffled scream of heartbreak and rage. “I fuckin’ hate you!” He raised his gaze to shoot Michael his best death glare. “I hate you, do you hear me?! I fuckin’ hate you! You’re giving up, you fuckin’ coward! You’re supposed to love her, you fuckin’ bastard!”

Michael tried to bite his tongue as Calum continued to hurl abuse his way, but the last few words of the attack cut deep, and he couldn’t keep his composure any longer. “I gave up?! Me?! I’m the only one who wanted to go back for her five months ago!” Michael went off. “I’m the only one who went back for her a few days ago! Not Ash! Not Luke! Not you, her fuckin’ brother! ME! I went back! So fuckin’ listen, and listen good when I tell you that everything that makes her Y/N is gone! It’s useless, okay?! She’s Hydra’s now. The quicker you learn that, the better.”

“I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU!”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU HATE YOURSELF MORE AND YOU KNOW IT! We all have to live with what we did. You have to live that you didn’t have the guts to go save her yourself. I’m not gonna carry that guilt for you, Cal. I’m not carrying any of your guilt, or Ash’s, or Luke’s. Because bottom line is I fuckin’ manned up when she needed us, while you three sat on your asses. So go ahead and hate me. Say I jeopardized the mission, or that I failed her. I don’t give a fuck. Because at least I fuckin’ tried, which is better than the three of you can say.”

Michael could hear Calum’s scream echoing off the walls as he hobbled back to his bedroom. He could also hear, or rather feel, the slam of Calum’s own bedroom door a few moments later.

Michael eased his way on his bed, the sheets freshly changed after he had left his blood splattered tracker on it. He knew a new one had been injected in him at some point over his state of unconsciousness, and he briefly wondered if it was the same one he’d ripped out. No sense in wasting technology when it wasn’t broken, after all. Laying back into the pillows, Michael dug out the note, and the device that still had Y/N’s location, seeking comfort in her looped handwriting, and the steady blinking of the device.

~~~

It took another week before orders came down, and Ashton summoned them all into the conference room. Michael’s fingers brushed against the empty chair between him and Calum as he took his seat. It took more willpower than he cared to admit not to slug Calum when the other man growled lightly under his breath. He doesn’t know any better, Michael had to remind himself. If he did, he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Ashton set the manila folder in the center, and when no one moved, he dove right in. “Between the files Luke was able to get, all the statements we have, the information we’ve gained from the trackers, and the intel SHIELD has from their agent inside Hydra, we have all the information needed to bring this to an end, once and for all. This is an all hands on deck situation. SHIELD is officially running the whole operation. They’re taking care of the hacking and gaining control of Hydra’s operating system. They already have a unit assigned to deal specifically with destroying the lab. Our job is pretty simple. We’re just soldiers.”

“Actual action?” Luke asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Actual action,” Ashton said, smiling a bit. “Something I‘m sure we’ve all been itching to do for quite some time.”

Luke pumped his fist, “Fuck yeah!”

“And Y/N?” Calum asked.

Ashton sighed. “Based on personal experience, we can assume she’ll be fighting for Hydra. So yes, it’s a good chance she’ll be around. Ideally one of us comes across her before the rest of SHIELD so we can subdue her, and get her out safely. But she’s not our priority, and yes, before you start, I tried to convince SHIELD into letting us specifically deal only with finding Y/N and getting her back. But all I got in response was bureaucratic bullshit about how we were being employed to do a job, and how we aren’t exactly in a position to ask for any favors.”

“So play good little soldier, but if we see our chance, take it?” Michael guessed.

“Yes, exactly. And Mike-”

“I’m not fighting, I know,” Michael cut him off. “Do I at least get to come and hang out wherever we set up base camp? Help with security, and the like?”

“Yes, of course. You’re not being punished, Mike. You’re not fighting because you don’t have medical clearance. But you’re still coming along. All hands on deck.”

Michael nodded. “Cool. That’s… Cool. Thank you.” He was fully expecting to be benched, and expected to stay behind. A lesson from SHIELD about how even the Avengers had to follow their orders. But getting sidelined only because he was still injured? Well, that… Fuck, he could handle that no problem.

“Be cooler if we can finally get my sister back…” Calum muttered.

“We’re gonna try, Cal,” Ashton said.

“You said that last time, and look what happened.”

“So… half hour til take off, yeah?” Luke asked.

“Not quite,” Ashton chuckled. “We leave tonight to meet up with SHIELD at the base camp they’re setting up just outside of Hydra’s radar. Then we go in just before dawn. I’ll give a 30 minutes heads up before we head out though.”

~~~

After the worst night of sleep he ever remembered getting, Michael got up just as the sun was beginning to brighten the sky from a dark purple blotch sprinkled with stars to holding soft shades of pink around the edges.

He stumbled his way to the cafeteria tent, finding the rest of his team at a table, each clinging to their coffee cup like a lifeline. “How’d you sleep?” Ashton asked, as Michael took a seat.

“Like absolute shit,” Michael answered honestly. “You’d think for how high tech SHIELD is, the bastards would have found a way to make camping missions less miserable.”

“Gotta cut expenses somewhere,” Ashton chuckled darkly, taking a sip of his coffee. “Fuckin’ bastards…”

“Fuckin’ bastards,” the other three repeated in agreement as a group of higher ups appeared in the entrance of the tent.

“First wave rolls out in 10 minutes,” the one in the middle barked. “Report to your positions, and standby.”

Everyone in the tent gave half-awake salutes, and the group of higher ups continued on their way. Then slowly, between stifled yawns, people started getting up from tables, dumping their half eaten breakfasts, and half drunk coffees, before going to their places.

Luke drummed his hands on the tabletop, a grin breaking across his otherwise tired face. “It’s showtime, boys!” he whooped before pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” He rested a hand on Michael’s shoulder, dropping his voice into a low whisper, “We got ourselves a girl to bring home.”

In spite of everything, Michael couldn’t help but laugh at Luke’s infectious enthusiasm. “Stay safe, guys,” Michael told them as his three friends joined the rest of the crowd dashing off to their assignments. 

Only after the last man had cleared out, did Michael finally get up himself. He made himself a tray of breakfast, before going off in search of one of the security tents. “Anything I can help with?” Michael offered the first person who looked in his direction. “Michael Clifford. Avenger.”

The SHIELD agent looked Michael over, with the boot on his foot, face still sporting a small bruise, and scoffed. “Here,” he said, shoving a clipboard in Michael’s hand that wasn’t clutching  his tray of food. “This is a list of everyone involved in the operation. Those of us staying to do security are already accounted for. But the rest have been given strict instructions to check back in when they return. Whenever that is. You can be in charge of checking them in by the triage tent.”

“Gee, thanks,” Michael muttered, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “Triage is…?”

The agent pointed to a tent with a giant hospital cross decorating the top.

“Cool. Thanks.” Michael forced a tight-lipped smile before making his way over to a long table set up just inside the coverage of the hospital tent.

“Back already?” another SHIELD agent asked, pulling a clipboard close to them. “Name?”

“Oh, no, I’m helping you guys with check-in.”

“Oh. Have a seat, then.”

“Hey, is Y/N Hood on this list by any chance?” Michael asked as he took a seat.

“Nobody by the name of Hood has been checked in yet.”

“No, yeah, I know. I meant… is she on the list at all? Like are we expecting her to be one of the people checking in.”

“You’d have to check the list. I dunno, sir.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Of course. Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

~~~

The sky had transitioned into a soft blue, the sun peeking out from behind the trees, suggesting that at best it’d only been an hour, maybe two since Michael took up residence at the triage tent. But it felt like a lot longer, and if something didn’t happen soon, he was going to lose it.

From his spot, he could hear the engagement of combat and gunfire, so he knew the mission was well underway. But, God, waiting for everyone to get back was so fuckin’ boring! And it wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being the one hanging back, because he was. But this wasn’t hanging back to provide back up. This was just waiting. Painfully boring waiting. His breakfast lay next to him, discarded and half picked over.

He was about three seconds from excusing himself to the bathroom just so he’d have a reason to get up and walk around, when a laugh rang out. A laugh he’d know anywhere. “Y/N?!” he shouted, scrambling from his chair.

The laugh paused, turning into a soft gasp. “Mike?!”

“Y/N!” Michael shouted again, rushing as fast as he could in the direction of her voice. “Y/N!” he called out for the third time, happily as he saw her pushing her way through a small group of SHIELD agents returning to camp.

“Mike!” she shrieked, before running full speed towards him.

He got his arms open just in time for her to crash into him. “Ow, ow, ow,” he winced as he hugged her tight.

“Oh, my God!” she said, holding him out at arm’s lengths. “Are you okay? What happened to you? Where’s the rest of the team?” the questions fell rapidly from her lips. “Oh, Mike!”

“I’m okay. Somebody beat me up pretty good, but I’m fine. The guys are off helping SHIELD play soldier. Oh, God, you’re back! And you’re you!”

“Did you get my note?” she asked, nuzzling her face into his neck.

“Yeah, I got your note.”

“So you forgive me?” Her brown eyes were wide and soft, and maybe even a little fearful as she peered up at him.

“Of course, I forgive you. You didn’t have to go so hard as to break my foot, but of course I forgive you, baby. Fuck, I’m just glad you’re finally here. For good. Safe.”

They could have stood there forever in their locked embrace. And they would have if someone wasn’t clearing their throat to get the couple’s attention. “Ma’am, we gotta check you in.”

“It’s fine,” Michael waved them off. “I got her checked in. It’s fine.”

The agent shrugged, and walked off.

“C’mon, let’s sit. We can catch up while we wait for the rest of the guys,” she directed softly.

~~~

“So Luke was the only one who believed I knew what I was doing?” she chuckled as Michael relayed the past five months of utter shit to her. “Remind me to thank him when he gets in.”

“Yeah, I probably owe him a proper apology for that still. Should probably apologize to Ash and Cal, too. A lot of things got said in anger that shouldn’t have.”

“At least you didn’t tell your best friend that you hated him,” Y/N pointed out, trying to calm Michael out of his remorse.

“Yeah, but still. We all sat around twiddling our thumbs until this last mission. I mean, we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know where you were, or if you were okay. And when Cal told us you were okay like Luke had guessed, I dunno… I snapped. I thought I could rectify my mistakes by coming to get you myself. I never once thought that you were with Hydra on purpose. I hadn’t even thought you could have been potentially brainwashed by them. I just… I dunno. Went blind with rage and every other emotion I’d been swallowing since that first mission.”

She nodded understandingly. Then, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“How did you find me? When you came back on your own.”

Michael pulled the tracking device from his pocket, which he kept permanently in his pocket along with her note. “After the first mission, we upgraded our trackers. Well, we just used the technology we came up with for my tracker arrows, and injected them into ourselves. So that way it’s a little harder to dump,” he explained with a slight tease in his voice that made her giggle. “And we loaded some arrows with them too, obviously. I nicked a few Hydra agents with them. And Cal got you with the drone.”

“But when Cal shot me, the arrow went clean through me. He was too close. Entry and exit wound.”

“The trackers are set to eject at the first point of contact. Pretty nifty, huh?”

She hummed in proud approval. “Pretty fuckin’ nifty indeed. Fuck… I’ve missed you, Mike.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her hair, breathing her in. “So fuckin’ much.”

“And I’m telling you,” a familiar voice growled, “that I have the bloody tracking device right here! She’s not at the Hydra base! She’s right… in… tada!” Calum said, sweeping the tent open.

Ashton and Luke’s eyes went wide, their mouths working to sputter nonsense. Y/N got to her feet, offering them all a shy wave. “Hey, boys.”

The magic words broke the spell, a giant grin painting each man’s face, before they were all rushing towards her in a gleeful cry of “Y/N!”

“Y/N, what the actual fuck?!” Ashton tried to scold but he was laughing too hard. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

“Sorry, Ash. SHIELD orders,” she giggled, hugging the man tightly. “Missed ya too.”

“So it was you! You were the spy on the inside! Fuckin’ brilliant!” Luke marveled. “Go in to rescue the hostages after our first spy betrays us, and replace them with a trusted Avenger. Wow… That’s fuckin’ genius!”

“So I take that as I’m forgiven for worrying you guys, causing you guys to fight amongst yourselves, and having to break Cal’s drone and Mike’s foot?” Y/N asked with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely,” everyone but Calum told her.

“Cal?” she asked, turning to the man. “Baby brother? Forgive me?”

Calum narrowed his eyes, but there was no hardness to the expression, suggesting he wasn’t actually angry. “You owe me a new drone, first.”

“Deal!” she said, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “Fuck, I’ve missed you guys!”

“Glad to have you back with us,” Ashton smiled. “Guys, let’s go check in, so we can all go the fuck home, yeah?”

“Yes, Captain!” they all saluted with a laugh, heading towards triage to check in, and check out.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get home and shower,” Y/N complained, her right arm thrown over Calum, and her left one thrown over Michael as she trudged happily between her boys once again.

“A good, long, hot shower sounds perfect,” Michael whispered against her ear. “And I think I can come up with a couple of other good, long, and hot activities for us after that shower,” he added, nipping at her playfully.

“Mmmm,” she giggled, leaning into him. “Think you got the strength for all that?”

“For you? Always. And we have a lot of making up to do. Might take days.”

She shivered against him, causing the other three to groan. “At least wait until after we get home before jumping all over each other, yeah?” Ashton asked.

“No promises,” they answered honestly.

Ashton groaned again. “C’mon, let’s give them a minute,” he said with an eye roll as he guided Calum and Luke forward to the line to check in.

Michael wasted no time in their friends’ quick departures to hook his fingers under Y/N’s chin, guiding her to meet him in a fierce kiss, fingers knotting in each other’s hair, breath rushing out of their lungs. “Promise me you’ll always come back to me,” he whispered when they had to break apart to gasp for air, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“I don’t think I can keep that promise, because I’m never leaving you again.”

“Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

__

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996​ @creator-appreciator​ @philthepegacorn​ @myfavfanficsever​ @cxddlyash​ @youngblood199456 @stormrider505​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @hoodhoran​ @metalandboybands​ @maybeememez​ @wiiildflowerrr

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[mi6-cafe]

WEEK 2 DRABBLES ARE HERE!

Now, let’s refresh your memory.

For the second week of LDWS, our true l- our writers were asked to write a drabble between 150 and 200 words, based on the word deck from the point of view of an outsider.

THEY DID SUCH A GREAT JOB!

(this is a purely illustrative gif of an outside observer of the goings on at Q’s flat, not a prompt)

READ THE DRABBLES AND VOTE!

hOW?

Read the drabbles & Pick three favourites!

Vote for them on this form!

Add some feedback for the writers!

That’s it! You have done your civic duty and voted!

Vote!

Read the drabbles below the line.

#1

Title: Eulogy for the Aston Martin Author: Misha / artsytarts Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (mainly directed at vehicles) Summary: Around 007, life and death go hand in hand.

The moment I leave solid ground and fly, pointed directly at the deck of the ship, I know my life is forfeit.

I realize now why the other machines pitied me after I was assigned to the man they call 007. I see his blue eyes blazing as he concentrates, gripping my steering wheel. They say he’s careless, but judging from the few days I’ve carried him, I know different. He’s not careless. His destruction is calculated. Only once I was obsolete, once he depleted my ammunition, blew my doors off, and pushed my motor to breaking point did he make his decision: To use me as his missile.

I count the milliseconds as the deck rushes towards me. Without a word, 007 pushes the ejector button and I fling him out into the open air, out into safety and freedom.

I am to be his sacrifice.

Before I hit the ship to perish in a blaze, I decide: I have no use for resentment. Like so many machines before me, I have granted him life.

That must count for something.

#2

Title: All In Author: sorion Warnings: none Summary: Bond is handy with cards, and Felix likes to watch.

There are few things as satisfying as watching James Bond clean a table in poker. Felix has learned that pretty much the moment he's met Bond, and the entertainment value hasn't changed in the years that have passed.  

On the contrary: Felix has learned some of Bond's tells. Not the kind of tells that would let him win against the insufferably unbeatable agent, but Felix recognises the spark that lights up in Bond's eyes, only seconds before he wipes the confident smirk off an opponent's face with a winning hand.  

Another thing he can see is whether Bond enjoys the game for its own sake or just really hates one of the other players. He knows it's the latter when the opponent asks for a rematch and offers the deed to a hotel in lieu of liquid funds, and Bond agrees, provided that they use a new, unopened deck of cards.  

The opponent blanches near imperceptibly, and Felix smirks into his drink. Oh, yes. Very satisfying.

#3

Title: Voyeuristic Displeasure Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: seeing everything is not so fun

Bond's hands were big and rough, stronger than they had any right to be.

He had been observing them with varying degrees of interest over the years, stuck behind his computers or out in the field - air straining in his lungs with the knowledge that the other's life depended on how fast and how smart he could be.

He watched Bond strut along the deck, hand poised low on someone's lower back, head tilted down in a way that suggested he was focusing on whatever he was being told, seemingly enraptured in them - Bond played the part well but he knew what signs to look for, to spot the seams of the almost perfect façade: he darted glances around, favoring his right side, trying to keep under the eye of the cameras that he knew to be in friendly hands.

The hand slipped lower, fingers teasingly dipping beneath the edge of the brightly colored bathing suit his companion was wearing - shameless.

Almost teasing.

He stood up with a weary sigh, empty mug held aloft: he was going to need a strongly brewed cup of tea, if he had to watch Bond flirt his way into another bed.

#4

Title: International Man Of Mystery Author: Merc / moon_of_mercury Warnings: none Summary: Some players never make it to places like Casino Royale. Others... acquire nice cars on the way.

She has encountered many interesting characters in her career, some more remarkable than others. Poker tends to attract extraordinary people. It isn’t always easily definable: something about this man arrests her attention the moment he walks up to the table, asking to join the game even though she’s already cutting the deck. 

He flashes a cocky smile at everyone, reads his opponents like a professional, and pleads with her to let the unlucky Mr. Dimitrios bet his car to win his money back. She complies, amused. Such self-sufficient arrogance would be offending if not for his friendly politeness. The way he eyes the man’s wife is not mere casual interest either. Those intense ice-blue eyes have already seen every opportunity. His body language may seem relaxed, but there’s an awareness in his movements that hints at explosive potential underneath the calm surface. 

For an exhilarating moment, she revels in being a part of this man’s story. It’s as clear as day that he’s used to playing for much higher stakes. She wonders what the real prize here is.

Dimitrios has lost again even before this stranger shows his cards. Men like him bend luck to their will. 

#5

Title: Crossroads Author: Hexiva Warnings: None Summary: James Bond visits a fortune teller.

The man’s cold blue eyes look past Serenity as he steps into her fortune-telling tent, and she shivers. His aura is like ice, a vast glacier with life frozen deep down inside it. He reminds her of a mobster from some old movie, wealthy but brutal. 

“What do you want to learn?” she asks.

“The future,” he says, distractedly. She follows his eyes to a bearded man standing at the high striker, speaking in Russian. 

She shuffles her deck. “There are two paths before everyone,” she says. “This choice is yours.” She draws two. “First path - The Lovers, the Star. Companionship and connection bringing hope. Choose the Lovers' path, and you will find a new beginning. A second chance.”

“And the other?” he asks. His tone is flat and apathetic. He doesn't believe in hope.

She draws again.  “The Emperor, the Hermit, both reversed. Rigidity and repression bringing isolation and misery. Choose the Emperor's path and you will end up alone.”

But the man is looking past her at the Russian, and he stands. “Thanks." A wry little smile. "But I think I already know what path I’m on.”

She watches him go. In his shadow, she sees the Emperor.

#6

Title: Observation Deck Author: Anyawen Warnings: none Summary: Mallory and Tanner contemplate employee relations.

Mallory surveyed the scene before him, sipping his scotch and trying, fruitlessly, to tune out the horrid rendition of 'Deck the Halls' playing overhead.

"We should do something about that," Tanner said, coming to stand beside him.

"About what?"

"That," Tanner replied, gesturing in the direction of Bond and Q. "Them."

The Quartermaster, decked out in a horrible Christmas jumper, looked exasperated. Bond, naturally, looked smug. They appeared to have entirely forgotten the holiday party happening around them as they argued. Flirted. Whatever.

"Trying to stop that from happening would be an exercise in rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic," Mallory said with a bemused smile. "Utterly futile."

"I don't want to discourage them," Tanner protested as Q cracked an unwilling smile at something Bond said.

"What, then?"

"A little push? Mistletoe? Lock them in a closet?" Tanner suggested hopefully.

"That might be construed as stacking the deck in your favor," Mallory observed mildly.

"You know about the bet?" Tanner spluttered as Q stole Bond's champagne glass and drained it to Bond's mock outrage.

"Spy," Mallory explained succinctly.

Tanner nodded wry acknowledgement.

They continued their silent observations a few minutes more, then Tanner asked, "What day did you pick?"

"April first."

#7

Title: Nighttime Invasion Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: vague references to blood, swearing Summary: Q’s cat is not impressed by 3am visitors

Thunk.

A crumpled heap hit the floor. She hissed, tail bushy, ready to pounce on the intruder.

“Oof!”

Gunpowder Man was invading her space.

Again.

“Q?” Gunpowder Man whisper-shouted. He sounded different. “Are you awake?”

Something dark dripped from his nose.

She sniffed cautiously. He stank of copper and salt. Still, it was better than the strong, sour reek of last time.

A light came on in Father’s bedroom.

Gunpowder Man lifted himself up and wobbled to the sofa. Walking on two legs seemed harder for him than usual.

“Bond?” Father came traipsing up behind him, making the room light up. “What the fuck? It’s 3 in the bloody morning. You couldn’t wait?”

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” Gunpowder Man used the false-happy tone Father used when he tricked her into The Basket.

Another dark drip.

“Don’t be stupid,” Father tsked, petting Gunpowder Man softly on the shoulder. That should help; Father gave the best pets. “Why don’t I put the - Christ, Bond! What happened to your nose?”

“It’s not broken. She hit me when I told her I was staying.”

“I thought psychologists were meant to keep their cool,” Father sighed. “Come on, let’s clean you up.”

#8

Title: A confession of a deck Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: James Bond would be lost without me.

I'd like to think that James and I are not just colleagues, but friends.

You know, we’ve been through a lot together. Cottages in forgotten lands, first-class casinos, important fights – I’d always been with him and helped him along the way.

But this game is different.

“That’s not fair, James,” the opponent says, watching his stack of cards.

“I’m not cheating, Q.”

The opponent snorts. “You may be the best player the MI6’s ever had, but even you can’t be THAT good, 007. Aces again? That’s not very subtle.”

“You were the one who said poker is just basic math and all about the art of reading people. So stop whinging and take off your shirt.”

Beg your pardon?

There is something disturbing in the air. I don’t think I want to give the good cards to James anymore. “Happy?”

The shirt falls to the floor.

“Immensely.”

The next round, Q loses his pants. I’m starting to think that this isn’t even about poker!

“I won.”

Finally, it’s over and I can relax again. Even though I’m not sure what this young lad can have that James Bond would be interested in… oh.

#9

Title: Camouflage Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: None Summary: A certain agent and their partner are in the field. The local perspective.

Grace's eyes were drawn to her first customers on the deck overlooking the harbor. They were as unlike as could be but Grace would have known they were together with just a glance. The subtle leaning in, the eye contact, the briefest brush of a hand. Not honeymooners but the established kind of connection that took time and patience. The younger man was dark and slender and had a tan that was honey gold. The older one was broader and blond and that one sent tingles up her spine. Her brother and his military buddies were like that, poised and watchful. She didn't see a weapon but suspected he was armed. They'd arrived three days ago in a beautifully restored vintage sailboat, walking the less traveled portions of the island.

Passing Grace, Mimi muttered “Spies posing as tourists.”

Gracie scoffed at Mimi's imagination. What were they spying on here, conch recipes? Then a new boat dropped anchor. The blond saw it first and the dark haired one checked the tablet he always seemed to have before nodding and finishing his chowder.

The pretty sailboat pulled up anchor the next dawn and the new boat was found derelict two days later.

#10

Title: Missing Him Author: Nana-chan Warnings: Summary: Austen the cat watches as her human pines for the Blond One

From her perch on the living room sofa, Austen looks disapprovingly at her bespectacled human. He is out on the deck again, smoking and no doubt pining for the Blond One. He is a relatively new addition to the household and has been gone for several days now, as is his habit. Keats—that dummy—misses him, too, as he meows and gazes forlornly at the front door.

She herself is unsure of the Blond One, but she doesn’t like it when her human is all sad and distracted, reeking of cigarette smoke and unresponsive to feline overtures of comfort. She feels powerless to help him. How did one man become so essential to her human’s happiness?

Then a key turns, the door opens, and there he is. The Blond One dumps his bag in the foyer and heads straight for the deck, pausing only to give her a brief head scritch. She watches as he folds her human into his arms and starts grooming him in that strange way humans have, with their mouths fused.

She hears her human laugh, gladness and relief evident in his tones, and finally, she makes up her mind about the Blond One.

#11

Title: Origin of a Voyeur Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: There was a legitimate reason to start going through all the Q Branch security footage, dammit!

After the small accidental volcano destroyed lab 7b, no one could recall who’d last checked the fire suppression system. Exasperated, R pulled up the security videos in hopes of spotting someone. The recording of Q and 007 was entirely unrelated, but she just couldn’t look away.

Q had been helping Bond dress for some formal event, tuxedo carefully tailored to conceal the equipment Q was arranging around his body. The scene resembled a squire helping his knight, except...

R bit her lip at the way Q stroked his fingertips down the front of Bond’s suit to check the drape of the fabric, evading Bond’s hungry gaze with a sly little quirk to his mouth. Then Q leaned close, reaching around to run his hands over the back of the jacket, lingering a little over Bond’s well-proportioned backside before he sank to one knee and brushed along the sides of the trousers.

“There, all decked out,” Q murmured.

Bond reached down to cradle Q’s chin in his hand and Q looked up with a provocative lick of his lips, the heat almost visibly simmering between them. Bond took a deep breath, his fingers tightening, and Q ‘s eyes widened and then slid shut as he turned to brush his lips against Bond’s thumb. When Bond made a low rough sound, both Q and Rani swallowed at the same time.

Then the outer office door slammed and she hurriedly shut her computer down, blushing. But she saved a private copy first.

#12

Title: The Bet Author: Venstar Warnings: none Summary: Bets are made, there will be blood.

Oh, yes. It was going to happen. The tension was palpable in the room, yes he said palpable in his interior monologue. Just fucking get closer. Do it already. He was going to win that bet today by fuck. He leaned forward in anticipation, eyes locked on target. Yes. Yes….Keep going...almost….

*AH-OOH-GA!! AH-OOH-GAH!! AH-OOH-GAH!!*

Fuck, goddammit. Not again! He narrowed his eyes. There was no way another attack by water was happening. Dammit. Fake or not they were going to have to clear the god damned building. He sighed heavily as he turned sad eyes back to where 007 and Q had been quietly eyeing each other. They were gone. “What the fuck?” Where? There! The orange of Q’s cardigan turned a corner.  He was not about to lose the 'THEY FINALLY MADE OUT DAY' be! He ignored the rest of Q’branch’s leads as they ordered the evacuation.

“Davis?”

Fuck. It was R.

“And just where are you going? Exit is that way.”

He turned with hunched shoulders to find R smiling at him. Her eyes flitted past him to where Q and 007 had disappeared to. “THAT bet will only be won when it’s officially my day.”

#13

Title: Specs and the Lady Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: None. Summary: Louis has been a bartender for a long time, but occasionally patrons can still surprise him.

The Friday night crowd seethes around the bar in waves, laughing and calling out their orders. Louis has been a bartender a long time, which means he can keep up with the steady roll of vodka-tonic-scotch-and-soda-bottle-bottle-pint and still keep an eye on the floor for trouble.

Trouble like the man in specs and a loud jumper bumping into an over-drunk man in a worn football jersey, spilling both their drinks.

Specs’ mouth forms the word ‘sorry,’ but Jersey isn’t having it. He grabs Specs’ jumper, but before Louis can even call for Paul—their unofficial bouncer-bartender—a lady slides in between them, curly hair and cunning eyes, and pulls Jersey’s hand away.

Jersey shoves the lady, and viper-quick, she decks him. Jersey goes down.

Louis lets out a surprised laugh. The lady looks quite pleased. Specs looks exasperated, though Louis doesn’t know why; if he had someone like that in his corner, all squared shoulders and terrifying heels, he’d be delighted. Then again, from Specs’ half-laughing attempt at chastisement that carries in the surprised lull in noise (“Really, Eve?”), this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

“Just take Jersey out,” Louis bids as Paul moves in, “Specs and the lady are fine.”

#14

Title: Eyes on You Author: oldestcharm Warnings: n/a Summary: The Quartermaster is enjoying his afternoon and Bond is far too concerned about his garden.

She's good at her job. So good, in fact, that she's currently hidden from sight with her scope right on MI6's Quartermaster himself. He's sitting on the deck of his house, enjoying the sunny weather with a girly drink in one hand and a laptop resting on his thighs. He's typing furiously, paying no attention to his surroundings. All she has to do is take one shot.  

Then, the sprinklers turn on.  

She does her best to not make a sound even as her phone buzzes.

4:27 pm:

There are over twenty cameras on the property.

4:28 pm:

I suggest you get out of my hydrangea bush. James worked rather hard on the garden and he won't be pleased to find you there.

A click behind her — probably a gun. "You've ruined my garden."

She turns around and finds herself face to face with the legendary agent. She cringes. "I'm... very sorry?"

Bond does not look amused. "You're fixing this before you leave."

"You're not going to kill me?" she asks, heart pounding.

"Q wants you for his team." Bond sighs, looking more annoyed than anything. "Either you accept or I'll shoot you."

Well, it's not exactly a choice.

#15

Title: Over It Author: MrKsan / starrboned Warnings: Canon-Typical language Summary: Tanner is nervous.

Ferrying through the maze of the Thames tunnels was often a nerve-wracking job. More so when his passengers were nervous. More so when it was the Chief of Staff who was sitting across from him, restless, tap-tap-tapping on his cardboard box.

Tanner gave Jack an awkward smile as they docked, climbing the narrow ladder just as the Quartermaster stormed into view.

“I’m going to skin the twat alive, Bill!“ he hissed, making Tanner stumble to a stop. “Didn’t even try to cover his tracks.”

Jack grinned. Only one man could piss Q off that much.

Tanner sighed, resigned. “I’ll inform M-”

“Already did,” Q huffed.

"Oh?"

"Not risking my career for him again, Bill."

Jack dared a peek at the couple; the conversation was taking an unexpected turn.

Tanner blinked, once, twice, before seeming to come to a decision. He shoved the cardboard box at Q.

“Thought we could share breakfast, since our dinner last night was interrupted? Bad timing, of course- ”

"Bill,” Q said, and Jack saw the silver of a smirk. "I would love to."

Pulling a crumpled cigarette from under his heavy coat, Jack couldn't help but grin to himself.

MI6 and their drama.

Go vote!

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

-

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

-

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

-

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

-

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

-

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

-

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Crashing | Jurdan Fake Hating One Shot

Written for: @poeticbrownmermaid​ for my 1k celebration!

Massive thank you to: @clockworkgraystairs​ and @sweetlyvillainous​ for beta reading this and holding my hand before I posted 🥺❤️

Summary: You’ve heard of fake dating. Get ready for fake hating. It’s all very romantic.

Rating: M/E for explicit language and a short, soft focus smut scene (a steam scene, if you will). The sexy parts start and stop after the ☽☽ in case you want to skip.

Masterlist

“You taste—” I’m cut off by my own giggle, which rises to my lips like my mouth is a glass and my laugh is the Champagne they’re serving at this dumb party. “You taste like bubblegum.”

Cardan looks at me funny, then snorts. “What?”

His eyes are beguiling when they’re amused. Even more beguiling when they’re amused and looking at me. They are dark intoxication. They compete against the night sky for vastness. I could swallow them whole.

We’re on the terrace under the stars outside his fancy-pants mansion. I’m sitting on the stone railing, my knees bracketing his lithe frame. His hands and lips are breathless effervescence on me.

I’m in a daring dress of red satin that I would’ve never chosen for myself had Oriana not insisted on finding us girls a tailor. It’s an elegant, backless number with an audacious slit up the side. The whole time before this in the ballroom, I could sense Cardan’s eyes eating it up while he pretended to hate me.

In this dress, I am a femme fatale spy from a film, meeting her tryst in the secret of shadows. Which is honestly not too far off from the reality of the situation, though I am no spy.

Cardan ghosts one hand up the exposed skin of my thigh. The night air is bracing as his touch.

“Jude,” he murmurs, “Are you drunk?”

He’s in a rakish black velvet suit with two blood-red rubies dangling from the pointed tips of his collar. It is decadence and sin given form. The first hour of this hell party was just that: Hell. By the time Cardan pressed a napkin into my palm with the words “Terrace. 10 min.” scrawled on it in smeared ink, I was beginning to glare at him in earnest—if only for the way he must’ve known he was teasing me.

Now, we’re making out behind two conveniently tall potted plants.

It’s all very romantic.

“I had one glass of wine, Cardan,” I say. I slide my hands from his hair and scrape my nails lightly down the column of his neck. It is heady, watching his eyes shutter. My hands slide down his chest and take up his lapels. I give them a firm tug. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I,” he says, lips hovering over my own, “Don’t believe you.” His breath fans across my face. It really does smell like bubblegum. And not the minty kind, either. I’m talking bright pink and bubblicious.

I lean back a little and stick my bottom lip out in a mock-pout. “Why not?”

“For starters,” he says, “You’re a lightweight.” He trails that damned hand down my exposed thigh again.

I shiver. “So? I also ate like twenty of those canopy things.”

“Canapés?” Cardan smirks.

“Yeah, whatever, Your Highness.”

He flashes me a grin and I’m briefly stricken into silence. “Then, what have you to say to your unprecedented giddiness this evening, Your Majesty?”

“Ew, don’t call me that.” I grimace. “I just called you ‘Your Highness’.”

“What? Scared of the implication?”

“Uh, yeah.” My brows shoot up on my forehead. “Mainly because it implies that I’m your mother.”

Cardan’s face goes slack. “Shit, really?”

I nod and bite back my grin.

“I thought they were interchangeable.”

“About as interchangeable as a fork and a spoon.”

He sputters a laugh. “Shows what I know about royalty.”

“You realise how ironic that is, don’t you?” I say, nodding pointedly in the direction of the party.

It goes on without us, spilling its mirth in great golden shafts out onto the terrace. It doesn’t touch us, though. The air is cool, clear of the preening bullshit that so regularly lathers these kinds of events. And though he makes me dizzy, Cardan is the only real thing here.

I think I like parties better this way. From the shadows. In there, we’d have to talk to people, explain ourselves. We’re supposed to hate each other. We were always supposed to hate each other.

A smile plays at the corners of Cardan’s lips as if he’s gleaned these thoughts of mine. “You haven’t answered my question.”

I narrow my eyes. “You think I’m too giddy to not be drunk.”

“Mhmm.” He nudges his nose against mine. “I’ve never heard you giggle before.” A slender finger tracks up my spine and it takes a considerable amount of concentration not to squeeze my thighs together. Goosebumps and a flush spring to my skin, anyway. “It’s delightful,” he tells me.

“Well, maybe you should work on your sense of humour.” My voice comes out shakier than I want it to.

“Maybe,” Cardan says, grabbing the back of my knee and hitching it up. “But that sounds like effort.”

I want to roll my eyes. This is exactly the reason we used to hate each other. His laziness, his arrogance, and entitlement made me want to punch him clean across his pretty cheekbones. I know my stubbornness and sharp tongue made him hate me right back.

Yet, when our worlds crumbled around us, we found ourselves crashing into each other. Entwined in a thicket of mutual understanding. Suddenly, there was so very little to hate.

We pretend to in public to keep up appearances. Everyone knows we hated each other. If we started being friendly around everyone else, people would talk. That’s the last thing we want. Even if they’d technically be right.

In private, though, Cardan is probably my most closely held secret.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still annoying as all hell. Like right now. But I’ve always liked a challenge.

I hook my leg around his back, pulling him in. My fingers card through his hair again. “I can be delightful in other ways,” I say, biting my lip.

His eyes lower to my mouth. “Oh, I’m well aware.” Cardan’s voice comes out a rasp. He cants my chin with the crook of his finger, pulling my lip from between my teeth with the pad of his thumb. He looks at me with undiluted lust. The weight of his gaze is like a dizzying nightmare.

Then, he devours me.

Our mouths slide together, slowly at first, but building in fervor. Hot and heavy, like a fever. His grip on my thigh is bruising. His other hand splays across my bare back, crushing me to him, long fingers twining in my hair. Everything turns saturated and slow.

I invade his mouth with my tongue, determined to drink him up. He tastes like bubblegum and our reconciliation. At the same time, I hook my other leg behind him so he’s pressed flush against the apex of my thighs. ☽☽

A muffled groan rolls between his teeth. “Fuck, Jude.” Cardan is growing firm beneath his trousers. The feel of it sends a curl of sweet desire, dark and throbbing, through my core.

“You’re going to have to be quieter than that,” I tease. I’m so featherbrained on the savour of his mouth, his liquid touch. My veins feel full of amber liquor instead of blood. I know I’m not drunk, and yet I feel it.

His fingers drawl back up my leg. “The question is, dear,” he says, “Can you be quiet?” The coolness of his hands sends a shock along the heat of my inner thigh.

I realise where he’s going with this and my breath hitches. My cheeks blaze. “Yes,” I tell him, though I don’t sound as confident as I should for such a high stakes rendezvous.

“Hmm,” Cardan thrums. “We’ll see about that.”

His fingers are deft and twice as sly. He hisses through his teeth when they glide over me, exploring.

As a steady rain, he begins my unravelling. His mouth covers mine, swallowing a soft whimper that escapes my throat. I want to moan his name, to curse aloud, but I can’t if we’re to stay hidden.

The thought is both terrible and exciting at once.

Cardan keeps a torturous pace. I cling to him, panting, clutching at his arms, clawing at his back. His mouth roams my jawline. His teeth tug my ear. My mind is frenetic, frenzied, and at once thick in a viscous haze.

All I can think about is how this party is so stupid and soul-sucking, but Cardan is the farthest thing from stupid and soul-sucking. About how he makes me feel very much alive. About how I like him more than anyone here, probably more than even myself.

His other arm wraps certain and solid around me as he spins my world on its side. I lean my forehead on his shoulder. He kisses my neck. I can’t help the gasps that leave me.

My heart is racing. So quickly does it pump, in time with his ministrations, I think I might turn to white lightning in a bottle before all is said and done.

I know it when I’m drawing towards that precipice. My toes curl and flex. My legs begin to quiver. My knees lock up.

“Cardan,” I gasp. “Please.”

“Can you be quiet for me, Jude?” Cardan murmurs rough against my ear. He sounds a little breathless, too.

I am so muddled, I am so close. I can only manage a soft sob in response. Now he’s doubling his efforts and oh, gods is he clever.

I bite his shoulder to keep from making a sound as I shoot over the edge, a wondrous arc so high I’m sure I scrape the stars of their dust.

My hips writhe against his palm. I pull and rake my fingers through his hair as I spiral through the five stages of sweet delirium.

He holds me through it. Presses his lips to my hair and whispers what I think must be comforting things into my ear. I can’t tell because I’m incapable of comprehending much of anything beyond myself in his arms. He strokes soft circles over my back until it’s done. ☽☽

When everything settles, I’m still clinging to him, my forehead against the sureness of his shoulder. A sheen of sweat dewing my skin.

I’ve always hated this part about intimacy. The aftermath. Everything is too quiet. The excitement is gone. You’re faced with the reality of looking at each other without the rosy filter of lust. Maybe you’ll see each other for who you really are, and that’s a scary thought.

That’s probably how I felt once with Cardan, too. Back when we started…whatever this is. But now, in this moment with him, it feels less vulnerable and more like holding someone’s hand as you stare upon something a little terrifying.

Which is why I’m able to look up at him and ask in every manner of seriousness, “Why do you taste like bubblegum?”

His responding laugh is gentle and he shakes his head. “One-track mind,” he says. I shrug and wait.

“They’re serving bubblegum cocktails at the bar inside.”

My nose crinkles. “You actually drank one of those?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“No, I think I’ll sleep quite soundly if I never do.”

Cardan gives me an awful kind of grin that makes my toes curl anew. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” he says, then tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “I happen to like bubblegum cocktails.”

I give him a dubious look. I can’t help but feel that maybe we’re not talking about bubblegum cocktails anymore.

For a long moment, we just sit there staring at each other. There’s a bloom of laughter from inside the house. The clink of glasses. His eyes trace the lines of my face. I still feel drunk on him and he’s looking at me too soberly.

So I say, “You have shit taste, then,” and hop off the railing. I side-step him before beginning the task of smoothing down my dress. If I walk back into the party all flushed and disheveled, people will know what I’ve been doing—which is almost as bad as if people knew who I’ve been doing.

“Oh, you can’t say that dear,” Cardan lilts as he leans back against the balcony with all the insouciance of someone who lives in this ridiculous mansion. And rightly so, because he does. “Not when you taste equally delicious.” Then he brings his fingers, the ones that have just been inside me, to his mouth and closes his lips around them, burning gaze locked on mine.

My eyes go wide. My jaw slacks as I watch him. I’m somewhere between affronted by his audacity and completely turned on again. Which is a confusing place to be.

He laughs at my probably very foolish expression and I turn on my heel to head back to the party. I’m not actually offended. I just can’t bear to look at him while he’s tasting me off his fingers without combusting on the spot.

Cardan grabs my wrist. “Wait, wait,” he says, still laughing.

I arc a brow and turn to face him. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and sounds earnest enough. “It’s just… you make me giddy, too.”

His words are a punch to the gut. I hadn’t realised it until he said it, but it’s true. It’s not the way he kisses me or the high of a climax, though those are surely nice things, too. It’s the way I feel when we’re together. Just his presence makes my head swim, my stomach turn flips.

He makes me feel a little bit invincible, and entirely beyond reason.

I look at him, the warm glow of the party playing off the sharp angles of his face. He’s still holding my hand, fiddling with the ruby ring I always wear.

On the crest of a breath, Cardan says, “Stay tonight.”

“Why?” I whisper, because we’ve never spent the night. I’m not sure we’d even know how.

“Because I’ll miss you terribly?”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Because you’ll miss me terribly.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely survive,” I say. Even as my heart gives a squeeze. I don’t want to leave.

Not yet, not yet.

“Because you’re too intoxicated to drive home,” he says.

“I took an Uber here, Cardan,” I tell him. “And for the last time, I’m not drunk.”

“I’m not saying you’re drunk, Jude.”

He’s not grinning at me, which I think is a good sign. It means he’s not hinting at something sexual. Then again, that might also be a very bad sign. It means he’s hinting at something deeper. I’m not sure I want to get into that conversation just yet.

“Fine,” I say. I do want to stay. The thought of it sends a little thrill through me. “Hate me for an hour more. We’ll have a big argument about… something. And then I’ll tell Madoc I’m leaving.”

His hands snake around my waist. “What will we argue about tonight?”

I smile at him sweetly. “If your head is half as cunning as your fingers, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Cardan hums. “I do love it when we’re at each other’s throats.”

I roll my eyes but I’m betrayed by my laugh for not the first time tonight. Stupid punch-drunk feelings.

☽☽☽☽☽

Enjoyed this? Try:  King  |  Wicked Game  |  We’re All Mad Here

Masterlist

AN: So this was supposed to be a drabble for my 1k celebration but my hand slipped and whoops! It’s 2.5K words. I really hope you enjoyed this secret tryst one shot. I had so much fun writing it. If you liked this and want to see more from me, comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated!

I have a tag list so if you’d like to be added to that, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! I also recently jumped on the Twitter/Instagram bandwagon. You can follow me @/rebelwriter23 on Twitter and @/slightlyrebelliouswriter23 on Instagram.

Back to the forest now. -Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Crashing- Illenium

Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @knifewifejude​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @thesirenwashere​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @whocares-idont​ @babycardan @sweetlyvillainous​ @aesthetics-11​ @storiesandschemes​ @jurdanhell​ @poeticbrownmermaid​ @thechainofiron​ @random-llama-socks​ @villanellevi​ @lady-thea-of-narnia​ @b00kworm​ @flowersinvegas​ @vanessa172003​ @cardanstrickytail​ @queen-of-glass​ @doingmyrainbow​ @words-of-the-wise​ @scarznstars​ @charincharge​ @fizziefaerie​ @fateandluminary​ @tessas-herondales​ @styles-taylor​ @jyoti96​ @losssssstttttt​ @transbordeamento​ @katsemkitgostadetog @gloriouspalacebakerylawyer​ @woodsbeyond1​ @hizqueen4life​ @highqueenjudeduarte​ @m-like-magic1-blog​ @dorkzrul​ @whataboutmyfries​ @livelovereading123​ @queenofgreenbriar​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @lifeminuspickles​ @df3ndyr​ @christalpaez @aknymph​ @iammissstark​ @disco-tits1​ @star-flecked-soul​

[fangirlovestuff]

@stephanieromanoff​ asked: 

Hey! Could you write something like Natasha’s always thought she was straight but then reader joins the team and now she’s started questiong her sexuality? Fluff pls!

I wasn’t sure how exactly you wanted this to go but I did my best, hope I did your request justice lovely!! also, i noticed @thedevilwearsbeskar​ wrote something for a similar prompt and I’m sure theirs is better lol (haven’t read it yet so I could write this one first). gorgeous divider is by @whimsicalrogers​, italics are for thoughts. Enjoy!

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: some curse words, apart from that it’s all fluff🥰

You were standing in front of all of your heroes – the Avengers. Your heart was racing, but the smile on your face didn't falter once as you introduced yourself warmly to your new team.

When you were asked to join the Avengers, your first thought was that this must be some kind of prank. No one, not even your closest friends, knew of your secret life, the powers you kept secret from everyone in your life to keep them out of harm's way. But apparently, Tony Stark is ever the know-it-all.

You were in the middle of stopping a robbery when suddenly, the big red flying suit bolted in, and you knew you were caught red-handed by the man himself.

So now here you were, standing in a briefing room in the Avengers tower, telling the other Avengers, your new teammates, how excited you were to work with them.

As you let your eyes pass each of their faces, you found nothing but warm smiles and welcoming nods. Well, except Black Widow, Natasha – her expression was utterly unreadable.

Thinking about how pretty girls are is normal, right? Like, everyone does that.

That pretty much summed up Natasha's mindset throughout her life.

Being trained in the red room meant being trained to seduce men. Natasha never questioned her ability to do that. She was good at it, the bowing of the head, the sultry looks, the bite of a lip and they were pretty much done for. To Natasha, these pompous men were easy, simple. That's what made her so dangerous for them.

Girls have always been more of a puzzle, and she included herself in this. But it's never once been a puzzle she'd been requested to solve, so she didn't. Do what you're told, and you'll survive.

It doesn't mean it was a puzzle she didn't want to solve, from time to time.

Natasha trained with girls, trained by girls. And sure, every once in a while, she'd check out a girl's ass as she passed by, or caught herself staring at another girl's lips for too long, but that was just… professional interest, you know? They were all made to look appealing, to draw you in. So, it was only normal it would work on her as well, it meant they were doing their job.

When Natasha left the red room and joined the Avengers, she didn't have much time to date, or think about dating, anyone. She simply didn't think about it.

But now you were standing in front of her, and Natasha Romanoff was absolutely captivated. The way you oh-so-elegantly held yourself, the smile gracing your beautiful lips, the glint of it reaching your eyes, illuminating them. You were stunning.

After the meeting was over, Natasha needed some time to think, so she opted to leave the room after greeting you as minimally as possible, for now.

She went to do what she knows would allow her to think best – go punch the shit outta some stuff.

Entering the training room, she rolled her neck a little, getting into position, and starting to throw hard, precise punches at the punching bag, letting her mind wander where it needed to go.

She remembered one training session, a long time ago. Her opponent was a girl about her age, Valerie. Natasha was confident she could beat her, since Valerie was known to be not the best at face-to-face combat, and Natasha was great at it.

Natasha had the upper hand the entire time, just as she expected. She had Valerie pinned under her, still writhing and not giving up, but Natasha was sure it was a matter of seconds, until—

Natasha looked at her, really looked. Her tousled hair, her wide eyes, the breath escaping in short spurts between her lips. And that was just enough time to allow Valerie to get out of Natasha's grip, flip them over and win the fight, just like that.

To her friends, she said she let her win because she pitied her. To herself, she said she slipped because she got too cocky.

She wasn't so sure of either of these answers anymore.

Seeing you knocked the breath out of her, your outside beauty reflecting your warm, courageous personality, reflected from both the stories of your acts of heroism and the way you told them. You were what it took to make her start connecting some dots.

Natasha was no stranger to the internet and it’s weird and wacky sides, but googling was clearly not going to solve her current problem. She spent hours browsing over the last few days, looking for a clear answer. The conclusion she arrived at – she is the only one capable of providing herself with such a thing.

She did talk to you a few times, but she didn't see you a lot, since you had your hands full getting familiar with the compound and she had her hands full with… well, trying to figure out who she wanted her hands full with.

She made her way to the kitchen to grab a snack – because if nothing makes sense, at least she has food. Making her way through the door, she froze at the sight of you and Tony, laughing and clearly in the midst of a discussion. Well, more at the sight of you, Tony was just kind of there.

"They were all so great, Tony! I was really nervous about meeting them all, but they're all so nice!" your voice rang clear in her ears. Her spy instincts kicked in, and she silently leaned next to the door on the outside, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"Nice doesn't matter," Tony answered matter-of-factly, "Who was the hottest? And there is a correct answer to this, so tread carefully."

Clearly you and Tony quickly became good friends, Natasha thought. The sound of your laughter rang through the room, making her smile without even realizing it.

"Well, I know what you want to hear, but I'm sorry, there actually is a correct answer to it, and it's definitely Natasha."

She could faintly hear Tony gasping in mock hurt, but her racing thought drowned it out. Maybe it was just a friendly compliment, she rationalized, tuning back into your conversation in time to hear you say:

"Seriously! Do the Avengers have a non-dating policy or something? Cause if we do, I am very tempted to break it," you chuckled.

Okay, so maybe not a friendly compliment… a blush crept onto Natasha's cheeks.

"We don’t, but good luck with that one, Romanoff's never gonna –"

"Never gonna what?" Natasha barged in impulsively, knowing whatever Tony was going to say about her probably wasn't going to be good.

"Never gonna let me take you out," you smirked.

"Well, it's your funeral," he told you, and picked up a donut from the counter, "I'm just gonna grab this… there you go, please don't destroy the kitchen," he said, leaving abruptly.

"So, will you let me take you out?" you asked Natasha once more once he left, a smile on your lips.

"Like, take me out with a gun? Unlikely," Natasha shrugged, "But to dinner… we'll see about that," she smiled, and your grin widened in response.

"But I should probably tell you something first…" Natasha hesitated. Normally, she would never do such a thing. But right now, she knew you were going to work together, and your dynamic needed to stay a good one. She couldn't fuck this up. "I'm not… a hundred percent sure I like girls," Natasha hurriedly said and then swallowed. "I, uh, never really thought about going out with girls before," she shrugged, "but I do know I'd love to go out with you," she smiled.

"That's okay," you said, and after thinking for a moment you added, "If you want some more time to think about it, that's really cool too. If not... I wouldn't mind figuring things out with you," you smiled.

"Thanks," Natasha smiled. "So, think we should destroy this kitchen? For good measure," she raised her eyebrow.

"Absolutely," you agreed, and before she could react you grabbed another donut off of the counter and shoved it in her face, the glazing smearing over her as she called out in surprise. She wiped the glazing from her eyes and glared at you while you burst into laughter.

"I hope you know this means war," she said, her tone threatening yet her lips still smiling, tongue darting out to lick the glazing.

"Bring it!"

I hope you liked it!! <3

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[combat-wombatus]

Hot Cocoa

Pairing: Iida Tenya x gn!reader

Warnings: brief cursing (mostly just bakugou being bakugou), some suggestive humor (m*neta is involved too)

Genre: fluff (a lil bit of crack bc why not)

WC: a bit over 8k? went slightly overboard with this idea and not entirely happy with the ending but i already rewrote it like 5 times so it is what it is-

(A/N): heya! so this is my first fic and i was kinda nervous about posting it...

it started out as an idea on @todorkihoe’s discord server but then it evolved into this monstrous nightmare so...it took me like a whole week to hash everything out and the logistics of the secret santa thing was an absolute nightmare. but it was worth it!!

It was the holiday season. Most people were taking time off of work to hang out with their friends and family. You had wanted nothing more than to relax in your hot tub with a glass of sparkling cranberry juice and scrumptious holiday cookies, but being a pro-hero meant sacrifices.

You were signed on as a sidekick in the UA Hero Agency’s Tokyo branch. The UA Hero Agency was exactly that: a hero agency formed by the most illustrious graduating class at UA. Not everyone from their class eventually went into the agency, but they were a large agency, with around 36 pro-heroes working full-time. This meant that they had several branches. You, a recent graduate from UA, knew these heroes who were a year above you at UA. They were special. When you started at UA, there were already whispers about “the Class of Legends”. Every single person who graduated the year after had been through enormous trauma during their years at UA. You thought that they were true heroes: strong, unbending even in the face of overwhelming adversity. They were only in their first year when they had been attacked by villains: twice. One of them had even been kidnapped. You couldn’t even begin to fathom how hard they must have worked to get to where they were today. They were resilient, and it showed. The UA Hero Agency is now one of the top Hero Agencies in not only Japan, but also the world. In fact, with their combined power, you wouldn’t be surprised if they happened to make an international branch. You knew that some of the heroes at your agency, Can’t Stop Sparkling and Pony, wanted to start something overseas but didn’t yet have the manpower to make it happen. You were sure that within a few years, their ranks bolstered by new graduates, they would take UA to the international stage.

So it was Christmas Eve. Even though you wanted the chance to chill out at home with some relaxing instrumental jazz and freshly baked sweets, you were out patrolling Tokyo’s vibrant shopping sector instead, on the lookout for villains who wished to ruin everyone else’s holiday fun. The mall was abuzz with shoppers, some hanging out in the verandas with cup of hot cocoa in their hands, others hurrying through, their arms loaded with shopping bags, searching for last-minute gifts they had previously forgotten to purchase. It was definitely not the worst patrol ever. The cozy atmosphere almost had you sighing in contentment, before you heard a voice shout, “thief!”

Of course a villain had to ruin the fun. They had a tendency to do that. You weren’t very comfortable using your quirk in such a loud, crowded area, but you bet that you could catch a small-time shoplifter without it anyways. You raced through the crowd, tracing the voice that had called out moments earlier. You saw a tuft of orange hair weaving unnaturally through the crowd of shoppers, and sprinted forwards, your eyes locked on the target. You followed the path they had created unknowingly for you, trying not to draw attention to yourself. It would only slow you down and light a fire under the criminal, which was exactly what you didn’t need.

Within moments, you caught up to them. Sneaking up behind them, you snatched their wrist and smacked your quirk-suppressing cuffs on it.

“Fuck!” He swore. How did he get caught so quickly? He could have sworn that there was no one chasing him. Pesky heroes. Relying on the comparative lack of heroes patrolling during the holidays, as well as the customary holiday shopping rush, was a sound strategy. He had done the same in previous years without getting caught. If only that damned, nosy civilian hadn’t shouted…

“Please do not resist arrest. It will be easier for all parties involved. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. There are eyewitnesses to your crime. Please drop your bags and hold out your other wrist.” You said calmly. You had a beautiful voice. It was calming and had a lilt to it that was a byproduct of your quirk. The villain did as you said, knowing that there would be no escape.

You sighed. Pressing a button on the comms situated in your ear, you reported the situation back to your office. You then called the nearest detective station and waited until their patrol car got here so you could hand the man over. Glancing at your watch, you realized your patrol was almost over. You did one last sweep of the premises, then headed back to the agency.

Today, the agency was the emptiest you had ever seen it. It was a large building, with 20 above-ground floors. In fact, it was essentially a mini-city. There was a heated indoor pool, a sauna, an elite gym that would make fitness junkies drool, a massage and spa, three verandas, and a rooftop greenhouse. It had a café reminiscent of the UA cafeteria, and all types of cuisines were available. In fact, Lunch Rush’s niece was working in the café, and the food was always heavenly. Sometimes, heroes from other agencies would drop off at the UA Hero Agency just for a bite of food after a long patrol. It was the unofficial headquarters of all the hero agencies in Japan, and it certainly lived up to its reputation.

Thinking about the café, you were suddenly hungry for some pad thai. Arriving at the door, you dropped off your comms and cloak at the door to your office and headed down to the café for some food.

“(Y/N)!!! You’re back!” Your friend squealed.

“Yeah Mina, just got off of patrol. Arrested this shoplifter trying to take advantage of the holiday chaos.” Spying her coat in her hands, you realized she was on her way out.

“Cool! You’re always so efficient with your arrests. Anyhow, I’m going to head home. My parents and I are getting some dinner together. I’ll be back for the party, yeah? Don’t open any presents without me!” Mina waved, a grin on her face. You assured her that you would make sure everyone waited for her to celebrate. You wanted to see your parents too, but they were currently on an international tour. They were famous singers, pioneers of a new genre of music. It was a sort of lullaby, but it wasn’t meant to put people to sleep. It was more of an enchanting, calming kind of music present only in fantasy books before your mother brought it to life. She was wildly popular, and your father was only too happy to support her. Speaking of which, your phone rang in your pocket. You took it out and accepted the video call.

“(Y/N)! It’s so nice to see you baby! How’s it going? I know you had patrols today but I forgot about the time difference and your father had to stop me before I called you and distracted you during patrols! He’s always so paranoid you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie. Stay safe, okay?” Your mother was always cheerful.

“Yeah mom, I know. I’m doing pretty well, actually. I arrested a shoplifter today,” you replied, recounting the same story you just told Mina. “Everything’s pretty calm here. How’s your tour going? I missed you,” you asked her.

“That’s good to hear sweetie!” You mom smiled. “The tour is amazing. I’ve never had such an international turnout before! Maybe I need to start considering singing in other languages! Everyone’s always so supportive.” You smiled at her, happy that she was enjoying herself.

“You deserve it Mom. I’m glad that your music is appealing to an international audience. You always work so hard. It’s nice to see that people appreciate all that you’ve done.”

“Thanks sweetie. Here, I’ll let your dad talk to you for a bit.” There was a bit of shuffling on her end as she handed the phone over to your father.

“Hey sweetheart,” your father’s voice boomed through the phone. You held your phone away from your ear, wincing a bit. Quickly dialing the volume down, you responded.

“Hey Papa. Mom said the tour was going well.”

“Yeah, it is. How’s the holidays going for you?” You heard the slight sadness in his voice. You knew that he wanted Mom to take a break in the middle of the tour and spend Christmas with you, but Mom was adamant about it. It was a holiday tour, after all, and tickets had already been booked. Some people were going to see her concerts as a way of celebrating, and she wouldn’t let them down.

“I’m doing good. It’s pretty peaceful here. No big missions or anything,” you say, in an attempt to comfort him.

“Ok, that’s good to hear sweetheart. We miss you.”

“I miss you too, Papa. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here when you guys get back. Have fun in Paris!” You replied, suddenly feeling sad. “Bye Papa! Bye Mom! I’ll see you guys soon!” You blew a kiss to the camera and hung up. Sighing a little, you trotted towards Emiko, the revered chef.

“Can I have a pad thai please?” You asked, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“One pad thai, coming right up!” Emiko beamed. “So, I hear there’s a party tonight. Should I make anything special?”

You thought about it for a bit, then shook your head. “No, you don’t have to. It’s mostly just for the presents. We already have the booze covered. I think Momo is ordering some special hors d’œuvres already and Sato is taking care of the cookies. Are you coming?”

Emiko shook her head. “I’m spending the night with my family and my boyfriend. I think I might make you guys some tiramisu though. I have all the ingredients and I don’t want them to spoil since I’ll be gone for a few days. Desserts are my specialty anyways,” she added. Then, with a knowing smirk, she prodded your arm. “Do you have anyone on your mind? You know, Mina and Ochaco hung some mistletoe up before they left…”

You blushed. Of course they did. Your friends knew all about your one-sided crush. You also knew that he would still be working here. He was always working. You were pretty sure that he had the mind of a robot, focused only on his work and his legacy. With those hand motions he made, you weren’t surprised if he actually was one. You shook your head to get rid of these thoughts. Emiko didn’t know. At least, you didn’t think she knew. You really regretted telling Mina about your little crush. With her tendency to run her mouth, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire agency knew already. With the exception of your actual crush, of course. He was simply too socially dense to see the signs and too uninterested to pry.

Taking your pad thai, you scurried away from a smug Emiko and plopped yourself down at a table. You dug into your noodles and sighed in contentment. Maybe working during the holidays wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like you had friends who weren’t as busy as you were anyways.

You finished the last of your noodles, then got up and took your tray to the recycling area. Heading up to your office, you paused by Ingenium’s office. His door was cracked open, and you peeked inside. You had to muffle your giggles at the sight.

He was wrapping presents with such a focused look on his face that you found absolutely adorable. His brows were furrowed, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He had a spool of ribbons laying on the floor next to him, as well as elegant white-and-gold wrapping paper and a roll of tape. What really amused you was the pile of paper, ribbons, and tape that was bunched together and tossed aside, obviously a result of trial and error. Iida looked frustrated. He had already put his presents in boxes so that they were almost uniform in size and easier to wrap, but he was clearly struggling. You estimated that he had forty boxes littering the floor, but he only had five wrapped. You watched as he ripped off the wrapping on the newest box he had started on, muttering about how hard it was to get straight edges with the wrapping paper. Knocking lightly on his door, you stuck your head around the doorway.

“Need some help?” You asked.

Iida looked up from unspooling more wrapping paper. His face brightened at your offer.

“Yes please, (Y/L/N)-san! I would greatly appreciate your aid. I seem to be having trouble folding the paper and trying to tape it together without it sliding from its position. If you could hold the paper in place while I tape, that would be wonderful!” He looked so excited, almost like a puppy.

You smiled at his eagerness. “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”

You sat down across from him and held the wrapping paper in place while he tore off a piece of tape. The two of you worked in tandem for around an hour, until you finished wrapping all the presents. You sat back, face flushed, and surveyed your work. All forty presents, wrapped with elegant paper and tied up prettily with a gold organza ribbon, were laid out neatly on the floor. It was a satisfying sight. Rolling out your back and cracking your knuckles, you got up from the floor.

“Those were a lot of presents, Iida-san,” you yawned, stretching your arms back like a cat. “Do you want to go down and get some hot cocoa? Emiko already left, but I can make us some.”

Iida got up too. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, and he had a dazed look about him. “That would be greatly appreciated, (Y/L/N)-san. Thank you very much for helping me wrap my presents. It was irresponsible of me to leave them until the last minute.”

“Of course, Iida-san,” you replied. “We were all so busy before the holidays I’m surprised you wanted to wrap everything as fancy as you did. I know that I just stuck my presents in bags, covered them with tissue paper, and called it a day! You didn’t even buy those sticky bows, you tied them with real ribbons. That’s dedication!”

Iida blushed furiously at your compliments. It’s the perfect time to confess to her, he thought. We’re alone, and there’s no one here to see if she rejects me. He took in a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say something to you, but before he could, you grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway for some much-desired peppermint hot cocoa.

Humming lightly to yourself as you lead Iida down the halls, you entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Releasing his hand, you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they were shaking slightly. Wow, you thought. I really did that. I really just snatched his hand like that. Ugh, he probably hated it every second of the way, he’s just too polite to say anything. God, my palms are so sweaty. Why did I do this to myself?

Unbeknownst to you, Iida was having a mental freak-out of his own. Ahh! She grabbed my hand! And she didn’t seem to hate it! Does this mean she really doesn’t mind my company? Maybe I actually do have a chance with her! No, stop, he told himself. She was probably just tired of how I was staring at her and decided to do something about it. Ugh, I was staring at her, wasn’t I? God, I’m such a creep. Iida wiped his palms on his slacks, then reached up and adjusted his glasses, trying to hide the obvious blush on his face.

“Ding!”

The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the two of you stepped out into the lobby. The decorations had been up for two weeks already, but it still took your breath away every time you saw it. There were garlands of lights strung high all over the ceiling, and dainty little ornaments hung from the chandeliers. There was a huge Christmas tree next to the fireplace, the floor around it coated in snowy fuzz. You had to resist the temptation to jump in on multiple occasions. You couldn’t help yourself! It just looked so fuzzy and comfortable, like clouds of cotton candy…

The Christmas tree was decorated tastefully. There was a surprising lack of hero-themed ornaments, mostly due to Momo’s elegant decorating. You had all been in agreement when you refused to let Kaminari or Mineta even touch the tree.

Making your way to the kitchen, you relaxed a little when you breathed in the apple-scented candles. It was a surprising choice for a holiday scent. Usually, pine or cinnamon were much more popular scents. You had gotten the privilege to choose the candles though, and although you almost fainted sniffing at every single scent in the candle store, you decided on apple. It was nice and refreshing, with just a subtle touch towards the holiday season. You liked the change of pace from the usual holiday scents, and it seemed it was growing on everyone else too. You stopped at the cabinets that contained the hot cocoa bombs. Emiko had seen these as an online trend with the food community, and she had made dozens of them “as an experiment”. Everyone fell in love with them (because heroes are allowed to be childish!) and they stuck. Now, the agency had an entire cabinet in the kitchen dedicated to the delightful goodies.

“Oat or regular?” You asked Iida.

Iida had, unfortunately, spaced out again. He was thinking about how cute you looked, standing on your tiptoes to reach the cabinet.

“Hello? Earth to Iida-san,” you turned around and waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay there?”

Iida blinked and had to recompose himself again. He kept getting distracted. This was not good. Not good at all.

“Regular is fine,” he replied, his face flushing once again. He really needed to stop daydreaming.

You poured out some milk into a jug and heated it. Then, you placed a hot cocoa bomb in each mug, licking some sprinkles off your fingers as you did so. Once the milk was ready, you filled each mug to the brim, careful not to spill any. It smelled absolutely delectable. Taking a spoon from the cabinets, you stirred both cups slowly, letting the chocolate melt at an even pace.

Iida was watching all of this, and he was still having an internal debate over when to confess. Would it be better to wait until you both finished the hot cocoa? Should he even confess to you on Christmas? What if his confession ruined your holidays? He began to sweat a little, his anxiety rising with each thought. Before he could come up with an excuse to escape, you stuffed a mug into his large hands.

“All done!” You exclaimed, taking a sip of your own cocoa, careful not to burn yourself.

Iida was not so lucky. Distracted by his thoughts, he raised the mug to his lips and gulped.

“Shit!” Iida swore. You blinked at him, a little shocked since he never swore, then immediately put your mug down and raced to the refrigerator to collect some ice cubes. Iida promptly put his offensive mug of cocoa on the counter, glaring at it like it just murdered his dog. Dumping some ice cubes in a glass, you hurried back towards Iida and popped one in his mouth.

“You really should be more careful next time, Iida-san,” you chided. “I just made it! You shouldn’t take such large swigs of a piping hot drink!”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” Iida replied absentmindedly.

“Distracted? By what?” Your curiosity was now piqued.

Iida’s face turned ever redder than before. He averted his eyes and mumbled out some quiet words that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Sorry, what was that?” You gazed up at him. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”

Iida’s hands were stuck to his thighs to prevent himself from freaking you out with aggressive hand gestures, and he didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his entire life. He cleared his throat. “I said that I got distracted by you.”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Really?” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You weren’t sure if you heard that right, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid that he’d hear it.

Iida finally looked at you. “Really,” he confirmed.

You wrung your hands and stepped towards him. Raising your eyes to meet his, your voice a half-whisper, you gulped before your next words.

“I like you.”

Blinking twice, Iida unclasped his hands and pinched his forearm. He winced in pain, then blinked again. You laughed at his antics, then clapped a hand playfully on his bicep.

“I’m real, Iida-san. I’m right here!”

Slowly, a grin crept up Iida’s face. “Really?” He mumbled, obviously still not entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

You chuckled at how you had just asked the same thing moments earlier, but then you grabbed his large hand with your smaller one and squeezed.

“Really.” You smiled bashfully.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, then Iida spoke up.

“I like you too, (Y/L/N)-san.” Feeling bold now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he drew his other arm across your shoulders and drew you into a tight hug. You sighed, feeling comfortable and safe in his arms. A part of you wanted to stay like this forever and never wanted him to let go.

“Would you like to go on a date with me on Saturday afternoon at 3?” Iida’s voice rumbled in your ear.

You were bursting with excitement. A date! A real, formal, date! “I’d love to, but why so specific?” You giggled.

“Ahh, well, my patrol ends at 2:30, so I thought-”

Of course Iida volunteered for patrols the weekend after Christmas. Did this man ever take a break?

“No problem at all, Iida-san. That sounds lovely.”

Iida released you from the hug and rubbed lightly at the back of his neck. “You can… you can call me Tenya, if you’d like.”

You were smiling so big that you feared your face would split. “I’d love that, Tenya.” His eyes crinkled when you called him by his first name. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

Iida nodded his head. “(Y/N). I like that,” he said to himself. He muttered your name a few times, getting used to the way it rolled off his tongue. You blushed and hugged him again, pressing your nose into his chest. He was just too adorable.

You wanted to stay like that, but your phone dinging incessantly in your pocket made it uncomfortable.

Mina

(Y/N)!!! my parents ordered this WHOLE-ASS TURKEY for dinner with JUST THE 3 OF US!!! how we gon finish it all?!?

Mina

*burps* we did it. we finished all of it. the whole turkey. (Y/N). we. finished. a. whole. fucking. turkey. pls send help i can’t walk (Y/NNNNNNNN)!!!

(Y/N)

want me to call u an uber … mina mina MINA MINA DID U PASS OUT im calling an uber mina istg

Quickly sending an Uber to the restaurant Mina was at, you put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at Tenya.

“Hey. Do you wanna get your presents and put them under the tree?” You asked.

Tenya quickly straightened up. “Thank you for reminding me, (Y/N). I had almost forgotten about them!”

“No problem!” You chirped. “Let’s go!” You took his hand in yours again and lead the way to the elevator. As the elevator chimed, the two of you waltzed in, hands still clasped together.

Humming a little tune to yourself, you stepped out of the elevator. You and Tenya entered his office, and each returned with an armful of presents, carefully stacked as to avoid damaging the delicate ribbons the two of you had spent so much time tying.

It was a tradition in the agency to get everyone something small. However, you participated in gift exchanges every year. This year, it was a Secret Santa-type exchange, but the UA Hero Agency did Secret Santa’s a bit differently. Instead of giving your partner the gift on Christmas Eve, the gifts were labeled with typed name tags in generic Times New Roman font. Then, there was the guessing portion. Everyone got 3 guesses at the party when they first open it, and after that, they get one guess per week. Whoever held out the longest (avoided being guessed) would win a batch of Sato’s homemade cookies, a week of free food from Emiko, and two patrol coupons (basically the adult version of homework passes). This year, you had drawn Bakugo as your partner. You’d decided to get him a ¥4,000 gift card to his favorite ramen restaurant, as well as a high-quality leather jacket. The gifts were pretty generic, and you thought that you had a chance at the prize. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered that last year, Momo had been so frustrated when she hadn’t figured out who had given her a pretty earring and necklace set after two months that she’d used Creation to make fingerprint dust and swiped it all over the box. It had turned out to be Todoroki. Needless to say, he’d won the prize that year.

The two of you made a few more trips, carrying gifts from his office to the tree. Checking the time, you saw that it had been an hour since Ochaco’s patrol ended. Right as you were about to call her, the front door to the lobby burst open.

“(Y/N)!!!” Your friend screeched, holding up a kitten with fur the color of cinnamon. “Look what I found on my patrol! I had to take her to the vet really quickly to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she didn’t seem to have an owner. Just look at her!”

You beamed. The kitten was absolutely ADORABLE. And not only was Ochaco safe, she brought a kitten back with her!

“Can I hold her?” You asked.

“Duh!” Ochaco passed the kitten from her arms to yours. Behind her, you saw Bakugou walking sullenly, arms drawn tight across his chest. You stifled a giggle at the sight. He obviously wanted a turn with the kitten too, but his pride wouldn’t let him as for it.

“We were coming back from patrols and I saw this little one stuck in a tree! And when I floated up to take her down, she just looked so sad. There wasn’t a collar on her or anything, so we took her to the vet. It seems like she was abandoned,” Ochaco pouted. “And so we asked the vet to vaccinate her and everything, and we brought her back here! Can we keep her? Mr. Grumpy over there already said yes.”

Tenya looked like he was about to object, seeing as this building had a no-pets policy, but then he saw how your face lit up and the idea and changed his mind. Maybe having a pet on the premises wouldn’t be too bad, he conceded. It’s not like there were other people sharing the building with them anyways.

“Of course we can keep her!” You squealed. Bakugou huffed a sigh. He’d have to deal with all these idiots fawning over the kitten for weeks, and he wasn’t happy about that, but there was no denying that the thing was cute. He’d mellowed out since his high school days and seeing a therapist for anger management classes certainly helped.

The kitten felt warm and fuzzy in your arms, and when you stroked it down its back with the palm of your hand, it let out a satisfied purr.

“What should we name her?” Ochaco asked.

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, since you found her, and her fur is brownish, why not Coco?”

“Coco! I love it!” She beamed. Coco purred again. “It looks like she likes it too!”

You smiled and looked down on the kitty. “Coco,” You murmured. “Welcome to the family.”

Just then, Mina burst through the doors, brimming with energy and not looking at all as if she’d fainted from turkey overconsumption.

“Mina!” You ran towards her. “I thought you fainted or something!” You accused, poking her in the chest. “You didn’t even leave me on read!! You just LEFT!”

“Chill, chill, girly, I’m alive and kicking! Just had to take a quick nap because of my digestive woes,” She flashed you a big thumbs-up. “And what’s this I see? Do we have an agency pet now? Did Shinso sneak it in his pocket from the cat cafe?”

“Shinso what?”

“Cat cafe?”

“I KNEW there was something fishy about his jacket the other day!”

You, Tenya, and Ochaco said at the same time.

Mina stared at all of you, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

Turning around, you looked at Ochaco. “I wanna hear about this later, you hear?”

“Alright, alright!” Mina shouted. “Change into your holiday gear! Let’s get this rolling!”

You had made a sweater especially for tonight. Knitting was a great way to relax, and huddling up in a cozy armchair with the soft yarn, some hot cocoa, and your favorite book, you had finished your holiday-themed sweater in two weeks. Now, you would finally get the chance to wear it. The sweater you made was white, a soft gold-and-silver threading woven through in the pattern of snowflakes. It was a basic winter pattern, but you were proud of your work.

Setting Coco down on the couch, you headed into the locker rooms to change into your sweater and some flannel pajama bottoms. Walking out, you noticed Tenya was still in his business attire, which looked pretty uncomfortable by your standards, although it did fit him nicely.

“Tenya,” you called out. “Are you wearing that to the party?”

He turned around at your voice, looking slightly taken aback. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why?”

“Nothing, just wondering,” you replied. Good thing that your present to him was a nice, cozy, hand-knit sweater. You may or may not have thought about making him a matching one, but then you’d decided that it was too forward.

“You look…” Tenya stared at you. “You look…cute,” he said, with a small blush on his face.

Blushing at his compliment, you smiled and ducked your head. “Thanks.”

“Your sweater…it looks nice,” he added.  

Playing with the hems of your sleeves, you smiled up at him bashfully. “Thanks. I made it myself. I really like knitting. It’s kind of therapeutic.”

“Oh, wow. You are truly very talented, (Y/N)!” Tenya praised.

“Thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you had lost the ability to say anything else. Why did you suck so much at making small talk?

Just then, Mina stepped out from the locker room and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Hey, has Yaomomo come down yet?” Mina asked.

“No, she hasn’t. Do you want me to go get her?” You answered.

“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just text her real quick.” Mina pulled out her phone, fingers dancing rapidly across the screen, then put it back in her pocket. Minutes later, Momo stepped out of the elevator, already dressed in a red sweater and white jeans. She always looked so put-together. You were sure that she had a second quirk.

“Yaomomo!” Mina screeched, running up to her friend. “You’ll never guess what I ate for dinner!”

You groaned as Mina recounted her dining disaster. You loved Mina, but her tendency to tell her experiences to everyone multiple times could sometimes get a little annoying. Trying your best to tune her out, you tapped Tenya’s shoulder and moved to settle on the couch with Coco.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Mina shouted. “Come here!”

Begrudgingly, you stood up again, having just sat down moments earlier. “What is it, Mina?”

“We forgot to introduce Coco! Yaomomo hasn’t seen her yet!”

Oh right. You did forget. You lifted Coco with both hands, then scurried over to where Ochaco, Mina, and Momo huddled. Momo let out a quiet “aww” when she saw the kitty and lifted her manicured hands in a silent invitation to hold her.

You gently placed Coco in her outstretched arms and was about to turn and leave when Mina grabbed your elbow. “Not so fast, (Y/N),” she scolded you sternly. “Picture time!”

Mina took out her phone and swiped open the camera app. You girls all huddled together as she snapped a picture for the fans.

Settling back down with Coco on the couch, surrounded by your friends, you didn’t think that you had ever felt happier. One by one, more of your friends and coworkers began to trickle in, until finally, when a disgruntled Jirou arrived with a protesting Kaminari in tow, Mina stood up.

“Alright! Everyone’s here now, so let’s get this party rolling!”

She bounced off to the kitchen to grab plates for everyone. You could smell Sato’s freshly-baked cookies from here, and your stomach growled in response. Remembering the tiramisu that Emiko had made, you followed Mina into the kitchen.

Mina held a stack of plates that covered half her face. It was wobbling slightly, the entire thing almost toppling over multiple times. You had gotten out the fancier cake platter and was currently in hyper-focus mode, carefully moving the tiramisu from its cake mold onto the crystal platter. You breathed out a sigh of relief as the process was finally completed and the cake hadn’t been ruined.

Holding the crystal tray with both hands, you stepped out into the lobby, marched over to the coffee table in the center, and slowly set the tray down.

“Hey guys, Emiko made us some tiramisu,” You called out. “Come here if you want some.” You held a cake knife in your hand and began serving everyone.

Tenya watched all of this with barely-hidden admiration. You were just so competent. So hard-working, so kind, and so wonderfully skilled at everything you do. Even the things that you weren’t good at, you tried your hardest to learn and to improve. He was definitely in deep, and to be honest, he didn’t mind a single bit. You were worthy of being admired, and he vowed that he would let you know in all the ways he could.

As you served the last slice of tiramisu to Ojiro, you carried the cake platter back to the kitchen and sat down next to Shinsou, who was, not surprisingly, hogging all of Coco’s attention. Seeing you, Coco scrambled over Shinsou’s lap and faceplanted into yours. You laughed at her enthusiasm and snorted when you heard Shinsou mutter “traitor” underneath his breath.

“So Shinsou,” you started casually. “What’s this I hear about you stealing cats from the cat café?”

Shinsou’s face immediately turned a tomato red. He put his hands up defensively. “No, wait, you have it all wrong- I swear- who told you about it anyways? Never mind,” he stopped his waving motions. You snickered. You were definitely getting the full story out of him later. For now, you had things to do.

Strolling over casually to Tenya with Coco still in your arms, you very sneakily dropped her, front paws landing gracefully, onto Bakugou’s head.

“Hey! What’s this damn cat doing here!” Bakugou yelped. Coco also yelped, and it came to you that dropping her on Bakugou’s spikey hair was probably not the best idea ever. However, as Coco quickly scampered down and curled up on Bakugou’s shoulder, and Kirishima was sitting next to him to make sure he didn’t kill the cat, you felt a sense of triumph. Bakugo was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning maniacally as he beat someone up, but genuinely smiling. You gave yourself an internal high five as you moved onto your next goal.

You walked hesitantly towards Tenya, and when he turned his head towards you, about to ask what you were doing, you quickly linked your hand with his and started leading him towards the rest of the group.

“(Y-Y/N) ?” Tenya sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You replied cheekily. “I want to hold hands with you!”

“B-but, do they know?” Tenya gestured nervously with his free hand.

“Nope, but they’re about to,” you grimaced, thinking about all the teasing you’d have to endure from your friends later. Better to just get this over with during the party, when everyone had the attention span of a goldfish and any embarrassing moments would hopefully be forgotten moments later when more exciting things came along, such as Mineta’s annual lingerie gift. Whatever the powers that be were doing, they were definitely not doing the world any favors when they let Mineta draw a girl for the Secret Santa every single year. But, for all the bad things you could say about Mineta, he definitely consumes enough material to have at least semi-decent taste in lingerie. Surprising, and sometimes gross, but not entirely unwelcomed if you could manage to forget who gifted it. The most disturbing thing was he knew all the girls’ sizes. You tried your hardest to not think about that. It’s not like you could erase his memory anyways.

You settled down with Tenya on a vacant couch, inwardly counting the minutes until someone noticed your position. Tenya looked vaguely uncomfortable, his posture ramrod straight, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“No one’s going to judge or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you whispered into his ear. “And besides, at least half the girls already knew I had a crush on you, so this won’t entirely come as news to them.”

Tenya relaxed slightly at that, then stiffened again when he noticed a pair of eyes glancing his way.

Midoriya had been excited at seeing Ochaco for the first part of the evening, but then had wondered where his other friend had gone. He knew Tsu was in southern Japan, as she couldn’t stand the cold and was operating in the warm coastal areas instead, but Iida being absent was strange. He had searched around the lobby, and when his eyes descended upon you and Iida cuddling on the couch, he was intrigued, to say the least.

He stared at the two of you for a solid minute, not wanting to disturb your peace. Slowly, he turned back to Ochaco, thinking that it wasn’t his place to draw attention to the two of you.

Ochaco, however, had no such qualms. Noticing how Deku began to space out during their conversation, she followed his line of vision to the two of you, blinked twice to check if she was seeing it right, then immediately let out a squeal.

Heads turned at the sound, and in moments, everyone was staring at you and Tenya curiously. You hadn’t noticed the attention yet, but Tenya had, and he grew stiffer and stiffer until you finally looked up at his face with furrowed brows.

“Tenya, what’s wrong?” You whispered. “Do you not enjoy cuddling? I can stop if you’d like,” your lips were pressed together in concern.

“I-it’s not that,” Tenya whispered back. “Look.”

You finally raised your head from his chest and saw thirty pairs of eyes staring back. After a few moments of silence, the room erupted.

“Iida-kun! Why didn’t you tell us?” Midoriya was the first to raise a question.

“(Y/NNNNNN)!!!!!!!!!!!” Mina practically screamed as she ran towards you. She clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. “YOU DID IT YOU DID IT YOU DID IT OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO ADORABLE EEEEE!!!!!!”

Half the room winced at her loud tone, and you quickly moved Coco from your lap to save her from the incoming bear hug.

Mina launched herself in your arms, then stepped back and shook your shoulders until you felt your brain rattling around in your skull like soupy mush.

“(Y/N)! What did I say, huh? Bitch I TOLD you that he liked you too, and you wait three goddamn months to finally make a move!?! Honey-”

Your face flushed red. Gently, you pushed her away. “Mina, stop,” you whispered, horrified that she was making a scene. It was too late. Ochaco and Hagakure rushed towards you, Momo trailing more slowly behind them. The boys were stunned for a bit, since you had always seemed so quiet and shy, much less Iida’s feelings towards you. As their initial shock wore off, Midoriya trailed after Momo to approach Iida.

“Congratulations, Iida-kun!” He held up his arms in front of his chest. “You and (Y/N) are really cute together!”

“Yeah bro! That’s so manly that you finally confessed!” Kirishima added, with a quirk of his lips and a thumbs-up.

“Tch. Fucking coward. Took you idiots three fucking months to confess, huh.” Bakugou smirked, but you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed. You actually somewhat got along with him, due to all the times Mina would drag you to hang out with her friends.

You struggled vainly against the arms of your friends encasing you. “Guys,” you pleaded. “Let me out, please.”

Reluctantly, the girls let go, and you immediately tried to redirect their attention. “Shouldn’t we start opening presents?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, you sneaky little thing,” Mina wagged her finger in your face. “Don’t think we’ll forget about this, (Y/N), but you’re right, we should start opening presents or we’ll be here all night.”

“We’ll be here all night anyways,” Todoroki pointed out.

“You knew what I meant,” Mina sighed.

Mina enlisted the help of Ojiro and Shoji to pass out the Secret Santa presents; you’d all open the rest of your personal presents later.

The best way to go about this, after years of trial and error, was for everyone to open their presents at the same time. It would simply take too long for everyone to open theirs one by one, and you’d all realized that the people who opened theirs first had a significant disadvantage when it came to guessing who their partner was, as the ones who opened theirs later had the benefit of some options already being eliminated. When you opened your present, you tried your hardest to hold back a squeal. It was a limited-edition album from your favorite artist! You hugged it close to your chest, and immediately knew who gave it to you. Jirou. Her parents were musicians too, and you had bonded over your love of this artist. It was a thoughtful gift, and you were glad that she had given it to you, even though it immediately gave her away.

The rest of your friends opened their presents. Poor Momo. No wonder Mineta had looked so gleeful earlier. He had been her Secret Santa and had gotten her a lacy black lingerie set. Her face was so red you were beginning to get scared that she would hyperventilate, but you had to admit that it was a pretty nice set. Mineta was basically drooling at this point, and Jirou was trying to comfort her while sending a death glare towards Mineta. Mineta, meanwhile, had received a new video game. Sero had received a large pack of farmer’s market coupons, as well as some homemade mochi from Ochaco, who had blushed and apologized profusely for not being able to afford something better for him. Sero just grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, saying that it was completely okay and that he appreciated her effort into gift-giving. She had brightened up a bit at that.

Koda had received a new hamster wheel along with some toys for his various pets. Shoji had been gifted a comfortable-looking poncho, as well as three pairs of matching gloves. Ochaco had received a generous sum of money, Midoriya had gotten a new set of comic books, and Iida had received a beanie and a multiflavored pack of tea. Aoyama had received a makeup set, and had gifted a makeup set as well, evidenced by his inability to contain himself and pounced on Hagakure, asking if she liked it. Hagakure was ecstatic, babbling about how she could finally show her face and how she’d never really been able to afford a full set before and how Aoyama was so considerate.

Sato had received a new baking pan, as well as cute mittens and a trending recipe book. He had given Setsuna a batch of cookies, as well as a gallon of frozen cookie dough with instructions on how to make it. There wasn’t really a point in him trying to win the contest, since he would be one of the people providing the prize. Mina had gotten fuzzy socks and a blanket, Kirishima had received a new pair of tennis shoes, and Jirou had been gifted a new pair of headphones. Ojiro had received some sort of custom tail armor with spikes along with an Amazon gift card, and Todoroki had gotten a hand-made red-and-white sweater with a red reindeer nose smack in the middle, along with a gift card to a hair salon, tucked into a bouquet of red-and-white candy canes. The only person you could think of that would go so far into the color scheme was Hagakure, who seemed like just the type to make an ugly sweater for fun. Shinsou had received earmuffs, a silk eye mask with a note (“to help you sleep”), and some gourmet coffee beans (“in case you still can’t”). Mina had seen the little notes that came with his gifts and started teasing him relentlessly about how sweet his Secret Santa was and how it was so cute that he had a secret admirer. Shinsou looked very nonchalant about it all and grumbled about how he just wanted to pet Coco and then go to bed.

Finally, Kaminari received some Pokémon cards to add to his collection (yes, he collected Pokémon cards, what was wrong with that?) along with another Pikachu plush, as per usual. It was an unspoken tradition that whoever drew Kaminari for their Secret Santa would get him a Pikachu plush along with whatever else they decided to give him. He had about twenty, collected over various years from birthdays and holidays. If this kept up, he’d be able to fill an entire closet with them once he retired.

As the chatter slowly died down, you snuggled into Tenya again. At some point during the present exchange, Shinsou had stolen Coco from the couch you occupied. Stifling a yawn, you pulled out a bag and handed it to Tenya.

“What’s this?” He asked, a slight smile on his face.

“It’s your gift, silly,” you booped him on the nose with your index finger.

“Ah, I see,” he replied, still smiling. “Do you want me to open it?”

“Duh,” you giggled into his chest. “What else would you do with it?”

Chuckling lightly, Tenya removed the tissue paper from the top of the bag. He stuck his hand inside, then pulled out a sweater. The sweater that you’d knitted for him. It was navy, the color of the yarn matching his hair, with gold and white snowflake detailing. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that you had made this especially for him, with your own hands. Putting the sweater down beside him, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face to your hair.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I love it.”

You flushed, but you hugged him back. “You’d better,” you teased. “I spent two weeks on that.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Tenya ruffled your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just soaking in the pleasant atmosphere. Yawning, you stretched out your arms, careful not to hit Tenya in the face. You gently pushed his arm off of your torso and got up to go to the bathroom.

When you came back, Tenya was nowhere to be seen. You searched around the common area and stepped briefly into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there. Sighing, you grabbed your parka and padded outside.

“Tenya?” You called out as you stuck your head around the doorframe. He was with Kirishima and Todoroki, clearing the entryway of the building of snow. You leaned back along the handrails of the stairs and watched. Your friends were all just so nice. So caring, so wonderful, so kind. As Todoroki evaporated the last bit of snow, you stepped aside to let them all head back in. As Tenya reached you, he paused briefly, looking up.

“What?” You tilted your head up also, curious to see what he was staring at. Oh. So this was where Mina and Ochaco had decided to hang the mistletoe. If Tenya hadn’t looked up, you would’ve missed its existence entirely. You looked back down at Tenya to gauge his reaction.

He gulped, and softly taking your chin into his hand, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. You leaned up to meet him, rising slightly on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was long and sweet, and you were both a bit breathless when you let go.

You smiled sweetly up at him and took his strong hand in yours. Standing on your tiptoes again, you pressed another soft kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas.”

Masterlist

[pennyserenade]

ungodly hour --

tags: nameless oc x agent whiskey. angst ? rating: m ( mature ) warnings: talk of smut, language, mentions of violence, blood. word count: 1k+ summary: desire and passion are curious things, capable of bringing one pieces of heaven and catapulting them into the fires of hell all in one go.  notes: this is pretty short and i wanted it to be more fun, but i don’t think i’m capable of making something like that. i also wanted this to only be a one part story, but i don’t think i’m capable of making those either so this will probably be three parts. n e ways i’m here to give this jack daniels bitch the complexity he deserves !  original gif by: @javier-pena​

Her knees rest on his forearms, and she pushes his shoulders into the ground beneath him, earning a groan as his head bounces lightly off of the ground. 

“Fuck,” he winces through clenched teeth. She smiles down at him, mirroring the same sort of cockiness he wears on his features every day. He offers a narrow eyed glare. “Your knees are bony.”

She adjusts above him, pressing said knees into him just enough to earn a soft, escaped “ah” from his lips. He closes his eyes, fighting the pain until she settles her weight back onto his torso. Her hands run over the surface of his chest, up and up and up, until nimble fingers find a home on his throat. She’s ghosting over all the important parts in a way that makes him nervous and her excited. He shouldn’t have doubted her. He shouldn’t have betrayed her. 

“You’re not very wise, cowboy.”

She tilts her head upwards, inspecting the way his eyelids squeeze shut as her fingers press gently into the flesh of his neck. He’s not afraid, because he knows she won’t hurt him like that; he’s sad because she wants to. 

“Nothing to say now?” she asks, leaning in closer to him, moving her hand away. Her warm breathe cascades against the side of his face when she leans forward and tells him, “You’re a fucking coward, baby.”

He doesn’t expect the way she nibbles on the shell of his ear afterwards, or the way her tongue swipes against the base of his neck in a way. He shudders beneath her. 

He wishes his hands were freed, and he fights against her hold momentarily before he realizes she’s not going to let him go. 

And why should she? 

She hovers above him, his head resting between the hands that prop her up. She’s still close enough where he can feel her breathe on his face. 

“You ever heard of the kiss of death, Jack?” She presses an open mouthed kiss on his jaw, and instinctively, he moves away from the sensation. She laughs hollowly. “The Sicilian mob bosses used it as a signal,” she continues. “If you had betrayed them, they marked you like that, and that was it—you were sentenced for death.” She presses another kiss, this time closer to his lips. His eyes open, staring curiously up at her. Her calm, cool facade almost begins to crack when they make eye contact and she sees remorse pool in his eyes. Almost. 

“Did you mark me, Whiskey?” she asks, voice honeyed. “Was that what you were doing?”

“Not quite, darlin’.”

The sudden sound of his voice, drenched in that southern twang of his, makes her halt. Her eyebrows quirk. 

“Oh no?”

“No,” he shakes his head. It's the only thing he can do right now. 

She offers him another laugh, free of mirth. Her fingers take the shape of a gun, and she pokes him roughly in the stomach with it, her fingernail digging uncomfortably into his flesh. 

“Just like that, Jack,” she whispers. “Just like that, you fucked it all up.”

She bites at her lip. Her eyes train on the fake finger gun that presses into him, and she remembers the very real way he’d pressed a real one into her earlier that night. He was more gentle, she remembers. She only felt the ghost of it, and he’d offered an apologetic look as he did it. He hadn’t pressed the trigger on it, either, but he had pulled the one on the gun in his other hand, the one that was pointed at the target. She remembers the way she had winced when the shot rang throughout the building and the way he hadn’t even moved his eyes away from her when he did it. She remembers thinking “I’m next,” but her bullet never came. He had put the gun back in her hand and said, “I had to do it.”

A stain of blood remains embedded on her pink evening gown, the one that had matched the pocket handkerchief in his tan suit before it was ruined so unceremoniously. She had screamed, not out of fear, but frustration. She had worked hard on that case, had been watching him and seducing that man, and getting all the access she had needed to build a better case against more people like him. And she was close, too. 

“You were jealous,” she spits. Her finger gun flats out now, her hand resting on her thigh. “You were jealous because I had done so much of that case without you and you couldn’t stand it so you pointed a gun at me and shot him because you knew I couldn’t do anything.”

“That’s not true,” he answers, voice soft. “I did it because you were in over your head.” 

“No I wasn’t!” she shrieks. “I knew exactly what I was doing and you ruined it, you fucking bastard.”

“Baby—“

She presses her knees back into his forearm and he winces again. “Don’t call me that.”

“Goddamnit,” he spits out sharply. 

She leans in closer to him again. His head goes between her arms and her breath ghosts over him once more. “Tell me,” she presses her lips to the side of his mouth, testing the waters, “do you like it when we fight like this? That’s why you did it? This is perverse, even for you, cowboy.” 

Her lips press onto his, rough and hard, and everything in him tells him to turn away, to not indulge in this, but he can’t. She bites his bottom lip, tugging gently, and he moans into her mouth. Then she bites down a bit harder and when she pulls back, he can taste the blood she’s drawn.  

“Baby,” he says softly, looking into her eyes, pleading. She’s distant, far away, but she hears him, the version of her that is warm and bubbly and not bitter like this at all. Her fingers wipe the blood from his lips and she presses another kiss onto them. She’s gentler now and without really thinking about it, she moves off his arms. He groans in relief, and he places his hands on her sides. She trusts him enough to let him, even if he’s pressed a gun into her stomach and made her a fool. Trusts him because he’s Jack and she’s not sure she loves him, but she’s certain their relationship has advanced past just fucking. 

“I don’t want to be kind to you,” she admits. 

“Don’t be.”

His hand wraps around the wrist that is holding her up above him, and he moves her hand to its original position on his neck. She looks at him, slightly stunned and confused; she wants to be angry, and she wants to hurt him the way he’s hurt her, but the way his eyes darken with desire makes her halt. 

Jack had the ability to appear rather full of himself in public, sure of his abilities as a spy and confident about his looks. Some of this translated well into moments like this, when they found themselves in close proximity to each other, drawing illicit sounds from one another. She often let him take control, favoring this confidence because it made him a more interesting being--something to be truly admired in the light of desire. 

He was a handsome man, and sometimes when they slept together, she was possessed with this odd feeling she was sleeping with some sort of God. She wouldn’t ever say this, but there were times when he had held her just right; when his mouth found the exact spot she wanted it to, when his hands rested on the curve of her breasts, when he huffed into her flesh and spit out dirty, filthy things in that accent of his. And, more alarmingly, sometimes she thought this even after they’d fucked each other into a sort of stunned silence. Moments where she’d begun to look over and a bead of sweat traveled down the tanned skin of his neck, when his plush lips pursed as his eyebrows furrowed, when he laid on the pillow and his chest rose and fell quickly and the slope of his nose made her feel warm and giddy. 

It was unfair, really, that he had to go and point that gun at her, reminding her that he was no God at all. When he pressed it into her, she became vastly aware of his morality. He became bound to the human condition, a man with a pulse and a heart, something she could hurt and something that could hurt her in the way only humans do. 

She takes her hand away from his neck. 

“I’m getting reassigned tomorrow,” she tells him, voice monotone. 

And just like that, he’s gotten his wish. 

tagged: @astroboots​, @over300books​, @penajavier​

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Command Me

So turns out stress has me write smut with my Trevelyan and Cullen. Content includes oral sex, sex in a semi-public space, and a passionately dominant Commander. 

She’s remised of her Commander.

After meeting with Leliana about the scouts she sent to locate a few missing patrols in the Approach, Lydia swung by Cullen’s office craving a kiss and hoping for more. He poured over his maps and reports, though he assured her he’d come to her later. It’s now later, much later, and she sits on her bed in a frilly blue Orlesian nightdress she knew he’d so enjoy tearing off, freshly washed and smelling of jasmine and rose with her hair in soft ringlets. Time passes and he doesn’t arrive. More time passes and when she’s too eager and almost touches herself, she decides she’ll go to him.

She finds a pair of shoes and throws his mantle over her shoulders for warmth—something she stole the other night while pretending to be him, (“I am Cullen, Commander of the Inquisition,” she said, parading around with a deeper voice, the real Cullen on her bed laughing. “That’s a shield in your hand, block with it!”) The night air is chilly against her skin as she dashes to his office. Once to her destination she closes the door behind her with a loud and final thud, spying Cullen with his hair mussed from running his hands through it. He’s hunched over reports, his quill furiously gliding against parchment. A small candle is the only light in his office save for the dim moonlight through the window. He didn’t hear her enter, and he doesn’t hear her approach the side until she clears her throat. It startles him, but when he sees her with a red nose from the chill, he rises with furrowed brows, kneading her shoulders and bringing her into his arms, though he does sweep over her form to admire her chosen garment. His breast plate is a hardened leather but still firm against her, and his gloved hands wrap around hers to warm them. The leather is pleasant against her skin, buttery, and he brings her hands to his lips with the thought to warm them. 

“You were meant to come to me,” she says. “I waited.”

He kisses her fingers in apology—so many reports, so many places Samson could be and they aren’t any closer. Lines of worry in his forehead make her pang. She wants nothing more than to rid the name Samson from his mind for good, but she has no spells to do such as such. Only he does.

She does however, know another spell for temporary bliss.

She throws her arms around him, scratches the back of his neck with firm nails where his armor doesn’t cover before she glances at his parted lips.  One hand rests against his heart, beating steadily underneath her fingertips. Already he licks his lips, watching her with heavy and needy eyes in something that is his, blown so wide she only sees the thinnest rim of hazel. She rises slightly on her toes to meet his lips, and though his lips are more pliant against hers in a plea for more, deeper, she parts.

“Time for work is over, Commander,” she orders. “Command me.”

He cradles the back of her head, the other hand gentle against her cheek. “Is that what you want?” he asks lowly, gulping,

He's already half hard against her. “And you in my mouth.”

She nudges him to his chair where he plops down with unmasked delight, his legs spreading, meaning her to sit between. She asks if he wants the mantle on or off, and though such bliss they have had with her wearing it and only it during times of passion, he replies, “off.” It falls to the floor. The nightgown follows, Lydia pulling one strap off her shoulder before pulling of the other, the silk falling at her feet. After stepping out of her shoes, She basks in the candlelight, basks in his office where too many people filter in and out throughout the day…where someone could enter now. But it’s night. No one would dare, and she’s not sure what’s more concerning, the fact that someone might see or the fact she may not care.

He drinks her in like he’s a droughted man and she’s an oasis, though he only drinks and manages to restrain himself from palming his clothed erection, sweeping over her form and fucking her with only his eyes. She palms her breasts, teasing herself at first before pinching and squeezing her nipples to peaks. Yet when her hand slides to her center, her fingers barely ghosting over her outer lips before she really touch herself, he rasps, “come here.”

She does. He juts his hips as she sinks to her knees to him, sitting between his legs to bestow herself and her mouth. She tugs down his breeches, just enough to free him, and he inhales a sharp breath as her tongue licks a line, grasping him and wiping away the arousal gathered at the tip. She watches him as she takes only the tip against her tongue, his gloved hands picking up her hair, tugging. He doesn’t close his eyes. He wants to watch.

No time for modesty—she’s already naked before his fully armored self with his cock in her mouth in his office, so she hums as she sucks and licks, not able to take all of him in her mouth but encasing enough to where he moans and pants, sweat perspiring at his brow. Her hands splay against his broad, sinewey thighs, digging her palms in, and she thinks she’d like to finish him that way before he tugs hard at her hair, muttering “stop.” With a loud pop she withdraws him, his thumb caressing her bottom lip in reverence.

“Sit,” he orders, motioning to his lap. She does so, her back pressed against his front. She is warm and wetting his breeches with her open self on him, legs spread, and he wraps one possessive arm around her, his breath against her skin.  He growls into her ear, “what do you want?”

“You,” she rasps, “your hands.” His lips are soft against the line of her neck before teeth graze, his tongue lightly darting against her earlobe. His armor presses into her and it should hurt not to feel his skin, to have sharp edges pressed into her flesh, yet she wiggles and writhes against him, falls against him as his gloved hands spread her open a little more to draw small circles against her clit, the sounds of her arousal against the leather filling the room. The other hand grasps her breasts, pinches and arouses her further, and when she comes she comes with an unholy shriek, Cullen grabbing her cheek so he may catch her cries with a kiss. He welcomes her climax with gentleness in his kiss before he chastely kisses her cheek, caressing her heaving body in tenderness that contrasts their bold lewdness. She writhes again, smirking when she becomes aware of his still hard cock behind her, and that’s when he orders her, “rise.”

 Her back still behind him, he nudges her close to the edge of the desk. With one grand motion he sweeps books and parchments and paper off as he kisses her still, telling her where to go. She presses her cheek against the stone, relishing his eyes admiring her back, her generous ass as she shifts, too ready for him. He grabs her hips and kneads, asking her to spread her legs as his warm cock glides against her. “Yes,” she pleads when he asks if she wants him inside, and again he asks “what do you want?” only for her to cry out, “you, inside me.” She yelps when he’s slow to enter and spread, begs for more when he continues the slow dance before increasing the tempo. He fucks her with no restraint and no hint of shame for both their exhibitionist show in his office where anyone may see or the fact he contradicts all the innocent Andrastian lectures he used to hear. He contradicts it all, becomes not the man who makes love to his wife on a soft bed, but a lover who fucks his woman with her face pressed into his desk. Sometimes they make love and sometimes they decidedly fuck, and he fucks and he’s fucking good at it, commanding her to stay where she is until he longs to see her face, longs to kiss her. She turns and lifts herself on the desk, her thighs spread and wide and all too eager to have him inside again. He’s so lost in bliss and transfixed he’s sloppy when he kisses her, more so finding her chin rather than her lips first before her mouth opens for him and their tongues meet. He orders, touch yourself, and she does. “Come on my cock,” he tells her it takes a few more rough and slick flecks of her hand before she has her second ending, softer but with residual washes of frissons that make her cling to him.

“Inside me,” she mutters, “inside,” and he lets himself come and come beautifully, freely, holding her close, grasping too tight yet not tight enough. He holds her, breaths into her as he comes, and she is dimply aware of how cool his vembraces are against her back, his breast plate still rough edges against her stomach and breasts. As they come back to earth she feels that brief rush of modesty, yet his body acts as her shield toward the rest of the world, covering almost all her nakedness. Before he can part she wraps her legs tightly around him, ankles locking, and he nods with understanding that she wants him close, indeed staying as close as possible even as he withdraws himself out, pulling his breeches back up.

“Was that too...?”

She shakes her head, touched at his concern, his gentle caresses against her cheek, gloves still on and still warm. She shall have to ask him to keep them on more often.

“No,” she assures again. “I promise.”

He motions up to his room, his bed where he surely plans to properly bed her, make up for making her lonely earlier, though she feels not lonely at all now, even as he apologizes.

“Shall I, make it up?”

She holds his cheek in her hand. “There’s nothing to make up for. Besides, I think you already did.” 

He grins boyishly, radiantly. “Good.”

One last kiss upon his desk before she throws on her nightgown and picks up his mantle from where it fell, helping him clean their mess. So many stories the desk has. Happy she is, to bestow it with another with the man she loves.

[luffles424]

Dark Side (01)

☼ Pairing: Namjoon x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: Star Wars au, Sith!Namjoon, Sith!Jungkook, Sith!reader, fluff, (future) smut, bit of angst, e2l, magical artifacts

☼ Count: 16.8K

☼ Warnings: violence (there’s some fight scenes), minor unnamed character death, mentions of enslavement

☼ Summary: You end up in the wrong temple at the wrong time and you’re certain that it spells nothing but your death. Except, it doesn’t. Has everything you’ve learned about the Sith been wrong? Or is it perhaps just these Sith that are different?

(This takes place long before the movies, it’s based around the SWTOR game, so it takes place roughly 3500 years before the events of the movies.)

☼ a/n: This is just... so wildly different from what it was originally suppose to be (originally was just a pwp with just Joon) and now there’s so much plot I’ve had to split it into two parts because now its a monster. It was also suppose to be posted on Star Wars day and I’ve clearly very badly failed on that part. This is primarily inspired by Joon’s 2018 MGA outfit and then Kook’s look when he wears a giant hood and looks like a sith. (I’ve also got some pictures of all three looks if y’all are interested in me posting that (they’re just from a dress up game but I have zero drawing skill)) Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Part 2

You press yourself back against the pillar, the coolness of the stone seeping through your ragged clothes, a stark contrast to your heated skin. It’s too hot on this planet, even down in this tomb it’s too hot. You listen, hearing the scuff of footsteps against the sandy stones before they stop. They’re close. So close to you, it feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait and hope for them to leave. 

Your gaze darts around and you spy your pack, too far away for you to reach without moving. And no matter how hard you try, you know what a futile attempt it would be to try to move with all the sand, even the slightest adjustment of stance would be audible. Because if you could hear this other person, they’d most assuredly hear you too. 

It remains quiet for a few more moments before they let out an irritated sigh. “I know you’re there. You might as well just come out.” You remain frozen, you know they didn’t see you, their shadow gave them away before you would’ve been visible to them. There’s an annoyed growl. “You can either come out on your own or I can force you out.”

They put a weird emphasis on the word force, it makes something in you prickle at the overall command, something that sits just under your skin. You glance to your pack again. If you can edge your way out in front of them just right, you can get closer to your pack and subsequently, to your balster. It’s a shitty little thing. It’s probably not good for anymore than just one shot. But if you’re lucky, you’re only going to need the one shot. 

You step out, shuffling a few steps towards your pack, as close as you think you can manage without the other growing suspicious. You know how you look, how you always look, a little dirty from scavenging, clothes torn and repaired, not necessarily with the steadiest of hands. Eyes hard from years of distrust. You let your shoulders slump, you know you can try to play up the runaway slave easily. You’ve done it before, it’s not entirely difficult given that you actually are one, but you’re far from that scared, timid girl anymore. 

You keep your head down, but let your gaze wander over the man before you. His dark hair is longer than you’d expect of someone on this planet and its fluffiness is at odds with the glower on his face as his eyes rake over you too. He’s too clean and put together to be from around here, you know that much immediately. His clothes are dark, from the black cloak around his shoulders to the layers of black cloth and leather that cover him. The only thing that stands out is the red leather straps that accent his boots and the deep red fabric cinched around his waist, which draws your attention to the silver and black glint of metal hanging from his belt, signifying what he was. Sith. 

Your stomach drops as your blood runs cold. Your chances to get out of here just got even lower, practically nonexistent. You were nothing to him and a sith would have no problem with getting rid of you should you be in his way, which given that you’re scavenging in a tomb, you probably are. You glance quickly to your bag, even if you die, if you were quick enough maybe you could still get your shot off. You certainly weren’t going to make this easy for him.

He follows your gaze and snorts. “Don’t even think about it.”

You’re going to die anyway. There’s no way you’re getting out of this, you have nothing to lose. 

But you don’t even get a step before he’s thrown a hand out and you feel your oxygen cut off. Your hands scramble uselessly at your neck, but there’s nothing there for you to try to pry away to give you your breath back. He tuts at you, walking closer until he replaces the force choking you for his own hand. He tightens his grip and you claw at his hand, struggling to get away. You barely register his words as you try to get him off of you.

“Now then, little runaway, before I drag you back to whatever sorry hole you thought you could get away from, you have something of mine and I’d like it back now.”

He lifts you, until your toes are just barely brushing the ground. You don’t know what you could possibly have of his that he’d want, this isn’t even a sith tomb. Your mind races, you’re short on options at this point, held with your oxygen cut off like this. If you could just get to your bag. Your hands wrap around his forearm for lack of anything else to do. Then a small glimmer of a plan forms. It’s certainly not the best and if it even works then you’ll end up on your ass too. But it will hopefully serve as enough of a distraction for you to be able to grab your pack. 

You tighten your grip as best as you can and look him in the eyes. He looks annoyed and you’re fairly certain that he’s said something else, but there’s a ringing in your ears now and your vision is starting to go black. You muster every ounce of strength you can and lift your legs, planting them firmly on his chest and push, relishing his brief look of surprise as your feet lift.

You expect him to maybe stumble, caught off guard enough that he releases your throat at the very least. What you don’t expect though, is for him to fly back 20 feet to slam into a pillar on the opposite side of the room. You hear his wheeze as his breath is knocked from him as he slides down to the base of the pillar to crumple in a dazed heap. 

You hit the ground with a gasp, the air burning your throat and lungs as it floods your system. You take only a single deep breath before you’re scrambling closer to your pack and yanking your blaster free from the confines. You turn and point it at him just as he gets to his knees, hand outstretched to do… something. Something that you really don’t want to find out. 

But there’s a shout of ‘enough’ that comes from neither of you that halts both of you. The power in the command makes you falter just slightly, end of your blaster wavering from where it’d been pointed at the other man. The other man looks equal parts pissed and nervous. You glance towards the entrance and watch the one who spoke enter. He’s dressed in a similar manner to the other. His hair though is shorter, blond, and more meticulously styled than the other’s. Fuck, just your luck, two sith. He waves a hand passively to the man you had been fighting. 

“That’s enough, Jungkook.” His voice is soft spoken, but there’s an undeniable undercurrent of ‘or else’ that follows it that has you wanting to follow his order even though it wasn’t directed at you.

The man, Jungkook you presume, drops his hand and his murderous gaze turns to you. “She’s in the way, master,” he spits out.

Another hand wave and Jungkook slumps down, clearly upset that he’s not being listened to. The man approaches you, head tilted in curiosity. He flicks his hand and your blaster flies from your hand to smash against a pillar. You’re so dead now, you clutch your pack closer to you like a shield. 

He reaches out a hand, unphased by the way you push yourself back. “You have the holocron I’ve been looking for. Will you hand it over?”

Your brows furrow, glancing from your pack back to this man. He must be crazy if he really thinks you’ll just hand something over that you could sell and get yourself off this blasted planet. 

His face is disarmingly serene when he drops his hand after you refuse to respond. You don’t know whether you should be relieved or on edge. He studies you and seems to come to a decision. He turns and walks away, leaving you even more perplexed.

“Jungkook, bring her with.”

Twin shouts of ‘what’ ring out. Yours in confusion and Jungkook’s in anger and indignation. 

“You can’t be serious!” he continues. 

The man turns to him and you can see the fire in his eyes despite the fact that his face remains passive. “Do you think you know better than me, Jungkook?”

Jungkook shrinks under the look, murmuring a soft, “No, master.”

“Then take her to the ship. She may hold on to her bag if it makes her feel better.” He gives him a warning look. “It shall be handled carefully, we cannot afford for that holocron to be broken. It will set my work back years.”

The man leaves, ascending to the exit and leaving a heavy silence in his wake. You wonder if you could run. A scoff finally breaks that silence and you jerk your head to stare at Jungkook. He mutters something further in a language that’s unfamiliar to you and approaches, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t know why Namjoon won’t just let me kill you or send you back to your little shithole.” 

You glare at him, putting the strap of your bag over your head to let it hang, hand still clutching the strap tightly. His master may be willing to bring you with, but Jungkook clearly doesn’t share that sentiment and you wouldn’t put it past him to lie and say you tried to run. You straighten your back and make every attempt to look imposing. 

“Listen here, you rockhead, you don’t scare me.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t give him a chance to respond, instead turning on your heel and following his master out of the tomb. You might as well milk his kindness while he’s got it. Before he changes his mind and you maybe end up dead in a sandpit somewhere.

You don’t really know how long the trip lasts. Once you exited the tomb, Jungkook seemed to have snapped out of his stunned surprise, quickly following so he could seize your arm roughly and drag you in the direction of a nearby ship. Not like you couldn’t have puzzled out that it was theirs, given that there was nothing around for miles. It’s nice, nicer than anything you’ve seen in a long while in this place. You’re surprised that it stands untouched given the sheer amount of scavengers on this planet. 

Once drug on board, you’d been shoved into what you assume Jungkook is deeming your temporary prison. It’s too big to be such, and given the ship, you doubt that they actually had any sort of dedicated jail space on board. It’s a small room that looks more like it’s usual purpose is for storage. Containers are stacked neatly along the walls and there’s a cot in the corner as well. That’s where you take a seat for the duration of the ride. 

When Jungkook had pushed you in, he’d looked you over in disgust, muttering out a warning about not trying anything and then the door was sliding shut and you heard the lock engaging. What did he expect you to try in a glorified closet? As far as you can tell, the things that are stored here would do little to help you. Although you do have to resist the urge to swipe some of the nicer looking spare circuitry, knowing how much you could sell it for. 

So instead you sat and thought. Tried to figure out what this sith could possibly think about offering you that he couldn’t just do so in the tomb. Or why he didn’t simply kill you and leave you there. You wouldn’t have even been the first scavenger body left in that tomb. Anyone who found you would’ve just thought you to be another unfortunate scavenger. And there’s certainly no one who would’ve come looking for you or asking questions. 

It makes you wary. Sith aren’t the paragons of trust anyway, but one that seems to want to take you to a place that you don’t even know the name of is a little alarming. You don’t think you could outpower him either. Jungkook, probably. Your scuffle in the tomb spoke volumes of the fact that you could maybe have taken him. But Namjoon, you definitely couldn’t. He’d wielded his power so easily and effortlessly when he’d talked to you that it looked like he hadn’t even thought about what he was doing, just something that was second nature to him, as easy as breathing. 

You only know that you’ve arrived at whatever the destination is by Jungkook’s return. The glower is still painted on his face and he’s quick to take your arm again and pull you along. You blink as you exit the ship, eyes widening as you take in your new surroundings. You’ve never seen so many towering buildings in person before. The sky is clouded and you would think it night were it not for the fact that it’s clearly busy as if it were the middle of the day. 

“Where are we?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Stars, seriously? This is Dromund Kaas. The seat of the Empire.”

He tugs you down the ramp, but you’re too distracted by the buildings around you. Everything gleams despite the low light and your eyes shine with wonder. Everything is so full of life. And once you exit the port into a more prominent thoroughfare, people move in large crowds, shopping and laughing. There’s stalls with food that others stop at. Your stomach growls at the scents that fill your nose but Jungkook pays it no mind, either not having heard it or, more likely, he doesn’t care. 

He weaves through the crowd easily until you come to a large building and you’re led inside to a lift. You startle when it starts to move. You’ve heard about them before, but you’ve never seen one before, let alone rode one and the sensation is disorienting. When the lift stops, the door swishes open and Jungkook is moving before you can even blink. You pass by a window, freezing when you see how high up you are. Everything looks so small from up here. You’re stopping forces Jungkook to stop as well, both angered and perplexed that he can’t tug you along. 

The city sprawls out below you, the view is both breathtaking and terrifying. You thought you’d be doomed to a life of sand and sun, but even if Namjoon decides to kill you to get what he needs, then at least you can say you’d gotten to find your favorite view. Jungkook tugs you roughly and you stumble towards him. 

“Come on, runaway. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting,” he smirks then and it’s full of malice. “Or maybe you should keep taking in the view. I think I’d like that outcome much more.”

You glare at him and push him in the direction he had been headed before you stopped. You weren’t going to make it that easy for him. He sighs, like he had wished that you would choose to stay in place. Arriving at an innocuous looking door, Jungkook enters a code into the lock and the door grants you both entry. 

He leads you through an opulent apartment, the colors are all muted but warm and while there seems to be a lot of metal used, it looks cozy. The most startling thing is the greenery. There are plants everywhere, the one point of color in the room that isn’t muted. They all look well maintained and cared for and you’ve never seen so much green in one place. Especially one so small. There’s more windows that you pass as Jungkook takes you down a short hall to another door. 

He knocks once before entering, giving you a shove as he releases you and he moves off to the side to lean against a wall. You stumble and glare at him as you right yourself. You glance around, he’s brought you to an office, your gaze settling on the large ornate desk in front of you. Lifting your gaze, you realize this must be Namjoon's office, given that he’s sat behind the desk, reading through a datapad like he hadn’t just taken you from another planet and might be preparing to have to get rid of a body. 

He pays you no mind for a while, leaving you to shift uncomfortably. Was this meant to be a ploy to get what he wants, make you make the first move? You won’t play into his game and you straighten and stare him down, expression carefully blank. You’ve certainly kept your face blank through worse, dealing with your old seller. Finally he looks up, looking bored. He glances over you, eyes pausing on your pack that’s still clutched close to your body. He looks back to the datapad before setting it down and folding his hands together in front of him casually, like this is an everyday occurrence for him. 

“I have two options for you moving forward.” You wonder if one of those is death. “The first is, give me the holocron in your bag there and in return, you will receive 1 million credits and a ride to whatever planet you wish to travel to.”

You blink. Had you really heard him right? A million credits? And you get to leave, alive? There’s no way. He stands, moving towards the window in his office. How many windows did they have here? They were everywhere. You couldn’t really have windows back home, too much sand and solid walls kept the heat out better.

He paces for a few moments like he’s mulling over his words before he continues. “Or,” he stops, back facing you. “You give me the holocron and you can become a sith.”

Jungkook makes a noise of protest. “You can’t be serious! Her? A sith? That’s a joke, right?”

Namjoon turns, giving Jungkook a dark look that shuts the younger man up immediately. His attention turns back to you and he moves closer, circling you. You feel like you’re on a selling block being inspected. “You’ll become my apprentice, train under me, carry out missions, and rise through the ranks. You’ll gain unimaginable power.” He stops directly behind you, leaning in till his lips just barely brush your ear and you shudder. “Isn’t that what you wish for most? To never be as powerless as you were when you were enslaved?” 

He walks away, going back to his desk and picking the datapad back up to read like he didn’t just offer you a new life on a silver platter. “The choice is yours. You may think it over for a while. But time is precious and I won’t wait long.”

With that, his attention is completely taken by the datapad in his hand. You see Jungkook fuming in the corner, clearly not liking the offer Namjoon has extended to you. You can’t even enjoy it, your mind is reeling from the deal. 

A million credits. Even in your wildest dreams you never envisioned having that much. You could get so far away from your old life. You’d never have to worry about money again. Never have to worry about looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to catch on that you’d run from your owners. You could live a normal life. The money makes his other offer seem so absurd.

You? A sith? Could you really do something like that? You know you’ve never been entirely innocent, stealing a regular occurance when you were just trying to survive. But sith are evil. Did you think you could be evil?

Namjoon must think you could be, you doubt he extended the offer for no reason. He must see something in you that makes him want to train you. You think about the power you’d gain. No one could control you again without your permission. You could defend yourself so easily. You’d wield power you never could’ve imagined. 

You lick your lips. It’s so enticing. It’d be so easy to just say yes, to hand over the holocron and become his apprentice. He didn’t seem wholly evil. He offered you money or a new life. But appearances could always be deceiving. You have no idea if he would follow through with his side.

You reach into your bag, pulling the glowing pyramid out. You stare at it and you know your decision. You set the holocron down in front of Namjoon and he looks up expectantly. 

“Train me.”

He smiles and for the first time, you realize he has dimples. They would make him seem sweet and innocent were it not for the holocron below, casting red across his face and making the smile seem far more sinister. He nods.

“Wise choice, little one.” He waves Jungkook over. “Take her to Korriban. Get her registered at the academy and started on her trials. You can work on your training there as well while you wait.” He glances over you from head to toe, lips twisting in distaste. “Take her to get more appropriate clothes as well. And her saber when she passes. Ensure that she gets anything that she needs.” He turns his gaze to Jungkook, expression dark. “Understood?”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “Yes, master.”

Namjoon turns back to you, a pleased smile curling his lips. “I have a few things that will keep me here for a while so I won’t see you until you return. But you will have your hands plenty full taking your trials. You will be in excellent care while I’m occupied as Jungkook will also be there. If you need anything, be sure to contact him.” Namjoon seems to realize something. “Right, Jungkook, get her a communicator as well when you’re getting her set up at the academy.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “That’ll be all. Jungkook, go ahead and take the smaller ship.”

With that, Namjoon’s dismissal of you both is clear as he turns his attention to the holocron. Jungkook storms out of the room and you hurry to follow after, knowing that he won’t wait for you in this mood. He angrily paces the living room for a few moments before he’s rounding on you, finger jabbing into your chest.

“I don’t know what Namjoon is fucking playing at, but you will not be his apprentice. That’s me.” He sneers. “You’re going to be eaten alive at the academy. Namjoon has lost his mind if he really thinks you have what it takes to be a sith.”

You tilt your head, smiling and taking a step closer to Jungkook that seems to throw him off guard. “Oh? Namjoon certainly seems to be confident in my abilities. I’m sure it’ll be no time before I take over for you.”

His tongue pushes at his cheek in irritation. “Stars, I can’t wait to watch you fall. Won’t be so fucking cocky then, will you, runaway?”

He turns and leaves, you trail along after him, smirk firmly in place. Even if you don’t make it through whatever training you’ve got coming, you’re certainly going to enjoy teasing Jungkook. Especially when he makes it so easy to do. 

Once back down on the ground, Jungkook continues his pace. You’d think he was trying to lose you in the crowd but his pace is just slow enough for you to just keep up with him. You come to a large plaza and you look around in wonder at all the people and merchants here. There’s more people here just shopping than there was in the entirety of the village you grew up in. 

You almost lose Jungkook, distracted by a stall selling shiny trinkets, but he doubles back to drag you away. You can feel the irritation rolling off of him and that just makes you giggle. He finally comes to a store, one that’s actually in a building, and shoves you through the doorway. 

The walls are stacked high with rolls of fabric, from sheers and lace to leather in every shade you could ever imagine. You stand in the doorway, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of fabric in the room. Jungkook slips past you, craning his neck to search the shop. 

“My, my! Is that my little Jungkook again!” A voice calls from somewhere among the stacks of fabric. 

Jungkook’s cheeks flare red and he glares at you as you bite your lip on a snicker. A small, older woman finally comes into view, pulling on a pair of glasses. Her already wide smile widens when her gaze falls on Jungkook. She immediately prods his stomach.

“Have you been eating well, boy?”

Jungkook pouts, actually pouts, and gently pushes her prodding hands away. “Bhea, please. Not now.” He whines and oh, you’re so enjoying this. “I have work for you.”

The woman, Bhea, frowns at that. She steps back slightly to look over Jungkook’s figure, shoving his cloak off so it puddles on the floor at his feet. She tilts her head and gestures to the expanse of him and you can’t help the way your eyes trail along his figure, the thick red belt at his waist does wonders to accentuate his tiny waist. He may be a jerk, but he’s got a great ass.

“I see nothing wrong with what I’ve already made.”

Jungkook makes a face, quickly stooping to pick up his cloak and fasten it back around his shoulders. He shakes his head and gestures towards you. “Not for me. A… new recruit.” His face twists with the last word. 

“Is that your way of saying you’ve got a girlfriend? My little Jungkook is growing up so quick.” She rests a hand on her heart and Jungkook’s cheeks flood red and he waves his hands. 

“No, I- That’s… She’s not my girlfriend. She’s nothing to me.”

Bhea gives him a nod and smirk and you can’t tell if she said that to tease him or if she really thought that. But the reaction was certainly worth it so you can’t be too upset by it. She turns her gaze to you finally. “Oh my, what a pretty little thing you are.” She coos, stepping closer as she inspects you. “We’ll get you fixed up with something much more suitable. Not these rags here.”

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. You knew your clothes were shabby, but you didn’t think they were all that bad. You did your best to keep them looking decent. 

Bhea pays no mind to you, taking your hand and leading you towards the back of the shop. Jungkook follows behind. She leads you to a room where a droid sits, coming to life once she enters. She gestures to it.

“This is T43, he’ll take your measurements and then we can go pick out some fabrics and talk styles.”

She encourages you closer to the droid before turning and shooing Jungkook from the room. “You go, you don’t need to be in here for this.”

Jungkook splutters a protest but does nothing to stop Bhea as she pushes him out of the room and closes a curtain. She turns back to you with a smile, directing you so the droid can take all of your measurements while idly mentioning what sort of styles and colors would look good on you. 

You barely get a word in as she happily rambles and you think that she’s mostly talking for her own benefit. Once you’ve been measured, she leads you back out to the main part of the shop and you see Jungkook looking over a stack of reds. You want to laugh at the predictability but Bhea is pulling you towards a stack of sheers. 

Jungkook notices your return, frowning when he sees what Bhea is pawing through. “Those seem unnecessary.”

Bhea shoots him a look, eyebrow raised. Her gaze drops to his belt before dragging back up to look him in the eye. “Is it? Who says that a sith must dress boring in order to be a sith?” She taps her chin. “I would think Sith would be much more flexible in clothing given how simple the Jedi go. Am I wrong? You chose that belt when you didn’t need it.”

Jungkook pouts and you really wish you could get a picture for posterity. He might hate you, but he’s adorable when he pouts like that. “I suppose. Just… Make sure she can fight and move in whatever you make.”

She gives him a patronising smile. “What sort of seamstress do you take me for? She’ll be able to do anything in whatever I create for her.”

Jungkook bows his head, looking thoroughly chastised. “Of course, Bhea. I do not doubt your abilities.”

Nodding, Bhea turns back to the fabric, pulling colors out to hold against you before putting them back. She leads you around the shop, stopping at the leather fabric and linen as well. Finally, you’ve circled back to Jungkook where she waves you both out. 

“Come back in 3 hours and she will have her clothes.”

“What? But-” Jungkook starts.

She holds up her hand before pointing out the door. “Go. Eat. I’m sure you’ve journeyed far today. Come back in 3 hours.”

Jungkook sighs but nods, turning and leaving with you in tow. He stands outside the shop, hands on his hips as he looks around. 

“Where are we going?” 

Jungkook’s face morphs into a scowl. “I’m going to get something to eat. I don’t care what you do.” He starts to walk away. 

You follow, nudging his shoulder. “Namjoon told you to take care of me. So we’re going to get food.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, likely to argue but you catch the scent of something that makes your mouth water. You grab his arm to keep him still and inhale deeply. “Stars, what is that smell?” 

You look around, eyes finally landing on a stall nearby that seems to be selling grilled meat. Your eyes alight when you see it and you immediately move towards it, dragging a protesting Jungkook with you. He can protest all he wants, it’s been so long since you’ve seen so much meat.

You stop in front of the stall, pouting up at him. “I want these.”

Jungkook looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Then buy them.”

You look down, toeing at the ground. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked. Jungkook doesn’t seem likely to be sympathetic to the fact that he interrupted your attempt to get credits earlier. The silence stretches before Jungkook seems to realize the problem. “You don’t have any money.” It’s not a question. 

“I would’ve if you two hadn’t shown up and taken what I was going to scrap.”

Jungkook looks even more perplexed. “You were going to scrap that? Do you know how much you could’ve sold that for elsewhere?”

“And how the hell would I have done that? Did you see any convenient places to do it while you were there?” You turn and walk away. Namjoon can tell him what to do till he’s blue in the face, but you know that won’t change Jungkook’s behavior when Namjoon’s not there to force him to be nice. “Do whatever you want. I’ll see you back at the shop.”

You wander the market for a little while. Trying not to stray too far and get lost. That’s the last thing you need, getting lost on an unfamiliar planet with no money and no place to go. You don’t walk for too long, fear of getting lost and hungry forcing you to head back to the shop, finding a bench nearby to sit on. At least sitting wouldn’t expend your energy too much. You watch people as they come and go in the market, thinking about how the future might end up. 

You’re tired, but years of being on the run keeps you alert enough, knowing that this is the worst place you could possibly fall asleep. Even if you don’t have that much with you, you’d most likely just be sold off yourself. A shadow falls over you and you look up to see Jungkook. You close your eyes. You don’t want to deal with him picking another fight right now. 

The smell of cooking meat fills your senses and you blink your eyes open to see a skewer of meat in front of your face. You look up to Jungkook’s face and he’s stubbornly looking away. You reach up slowly, afraid that this might just be some cruel trick, and take the meat from his hand. 

Once you’ve taken it, he moves to sit beside you. “I guess I can’t let you starve if I want to see you fail the trials.” 

You hide your smile by taking a bite. That’s a flimsy excuse and you both know it, but you let it slide. Jungkook produces a small box full of more skewers and sets it on the bench between the both of you and takes one for himself. 

You eat in silence and it’s nice. You don’t feel quite as alone with him beside you as you did when you were here by yourself. Even if he does wish that you’d been left in a tomb on some backwater planet. It’s not friendship, but it’s something. It’s enough for now.

The time passes quickly, it gets marginally darker, but the cloud cover makes it hard to tell that any time passed at all. Jungkook stands and leads you back into the shop. Bhea is waiting for you both when you enter. 

“Excellent. Everything is all finished. Come, come. Let’s get you changed.”

“Bhea.” Jungkook stops her and she glances at him in confusion. “We’ll take them to go. She can change on the ship. She should bathe first. It’s been a long day.”

You can’t tell if that’s a subtle dig at you or if he’s being genuinely caring. Or if he just wants to leave. Bhea purses her lips before she looks you over and tuts. 

“Fine. But you still need to come with me so I can make sure you know how to wear everything.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. “It’s clothing. Is it really that hard to figure out?”

You pat his cheek. “When it’s high fashion, if it’s not complicated, it’s not good.” You look over his clothes. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

You turn around before you catch the way his face scrunches up as Bhea laughs. She leads you to the back room where she meticulously goes over each piece. Turns out you really do need her instructions, simply for the fact that she gave you options and she needs to tell you how to mix and match. Once you’re reasonably confident that you understand the different pieces to what is essentially your new uniform, she packs it all up for you.

When you take it, she folds her hand over yours to keep you in place and looks you in the eye. She nods. “You’ll fit very well.”

You frown at the cryptic words. Does she mean the clothes? Or is there something else to them? She releases you, shooing you out to Jungkook. 

“I’ll send the payment request on to Lord Namjoon.” She smiles and waves. 

Jungkook gives her a small bow and you do the same. You exit back to the market and Jungkook turns away from the port. You frown in confusion, following after. 

“Where are we going?”

“You need a comm and it’s better to get it here than on Korriban,” he states matter of factly. 

You let out a soft ‘oh.’ That made sense although you don’t know much about this Korriban. But you figure Jungkook probably knows the best place to get a communicator. You’re a little giddy. You’ve never owned one. They cost far too much for you to have ever afforded and you had no need for one when you were alone. 

You only take a few turns before Jungkook is stopping at a stall where a person with soft mint colored hair is sorting through a box of electronics. The man at the stall turns before either of you say anything and he blinks sleepy, cat-like eyes at you before his gaze slides over to Jungkook. His lips part in a smile. 

“Ah, Jungkookie. What can I do for you today?”

Jungkook flushes at the name, gaze darting to you before going back to the man before you. “Just need a communicator.”

The man raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. “Got something to hide from Namjoon?”

Jungkook flushes darker and glares. “No. It’s for her. Namjoon is paying for it.”

The man chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.” He turns to you. “What kind of communicator do you want? I think I’ve got a few in stock right now.”

You blink, opening your mouth before closing it again. You look at Jungkook helplessly. He sighs when he sees your gaze, turning to the man. 

“Just pull them out, Yoongi. She’s not going to know the technical differences. She can just pick whichever she thinks is prettiest.”

You bristle slightly at the words. Yoongi shrugs, tugging a few devices out from a drawer beneath the table and setting them in front of you. You look them over carefully. 

Jungkook sighs again. “Just pick one. It’s not that hard.”

You glare at him before looking back at the items in front of you. “Just because I’ve never had one before doesn’t mean I don’t understand how electronics work.” You give him a look. “Did you forget how I made a living?”

Yoongi hides a chuckle and picks up one of the devices. “This is probably the newest I’ve got. It’s only one or two models behind what’s current.”

You take it from his outstretched hand, inspecting it carefully. “How did you come by this one?”

“Bought it off a guy.”

“Why did he sell it? What’s wrong with it?”

Yoongi smiles, looking pleased with your questioning. “Nothing’s wrong with it. The idiot got in debt to the wrong person and he needed credits quick. I was happy to oblige.”

You nod thoughtfully. “This is good then. I’ll take it.”

Yoongi nods, putting the other comms away. “You said to bill Joon?” He looks to Jungkook for confirmation.

Jungkook nods. “I’m sure I’ll be bringing it back soon though.” He says with a malicious smirk directed at you. 

You smile sweetly up at him. “Aw, are you planning to buy me a better one once I pass my trials? That’s so sweet of you, Jungkookie.”

Yoongi’s laugh interrupts whatever Jungkook was about to say. “Oh, I think she’s going to do very well.”

Jungkook’s face twists as he spins on his heel to stalk away from the stall. “Let’s go.” He snarls. 

You giggle, giving Yoongi a wave before jogging to catch up to Jungkook. You make your way through the city, trying not to stop and stare in wonder and hoping that you get to come back here when you can explore the place freely. Jungkook stops to talk to someone at the entrance to the port before he’s continuing through the doors. He walks past ship after ship, each one more impressive than the last. 

Finally he stops in front of one that’s a little smaller than many of the previous ones but no less grand than them. He leads you up the ramp and gestures to the left. “There’s a bedroom that way with a bathroom attached. You can shower and change there. The trip to Korriban isn’t terribly long, but better to get ready now. It should be daybreak when we get there and you can be registered and sent to your trial right away.”

He walks the opposite direction before you can ask anything further. You watch him as he disappears around a corner before making your way in the direction he has indicated, hoping it’s easy to find the room he mentioned. Lucky for you, there appears to be only two doors in this direction, the first revealing a storage room and the second revealing the simple bedroom he’d indicated. 

You set your things down on bed, running a hand gently across the bag. It’s the first time in a long while that you’ve actually gotten new clothes, especially ones that are made with such nice fabric. It makes you want to do good in the trial all the more. To prove to Namjoon, and even more so to Jungkook, that you deserve to have these. You sort through the different pieces, choosing what you want your outfit to be and lay them out on the bed. 

You move to the bathroom, it’s small but still more hightech than anything you’ve ever used before. You strip in the doorway, leaving the shabby, dirty clothes from your old life on the floor as you step into the bathroom properly. It only takes you a moment to work out the controls for the water and soon enough, hot water is pouring over you as the small room fills with steam. 

You groan, the water almost too hot to handle, but the way you can already feel the grim sliding from your skin makes it more than worth the slight sting from the heat. You stand under the spray and your thoughts drift again to what the future may hold. This is an interesting opportunity, you certainly never thought that you would end up with the possibility of becoming such a powerful being.

But on the other hand, could you be evil? You’ve really only heard of sith before, stories passed around the compound at night and things told to make a child listen. Meeting Jungkook and Namjoon was your first encounter with one ever and they weren’t quite what you’d come to expect. Did becoming a sith mean something different than what you had originally thought? Were they wholly evil?

Namjoon certainly didn’t seem that way, he could’ve just killed you, easily at that, and left your body in that tomb. No one would’ve known. But he didn’t. Instead, he offered you a choice, money or power. The two things you’ve never had, two things you’ve wanted for as long as you could remember. To have enough of either that you could be your own person. He offered you that chance, how could you say no? When everything you wanted was within your grasp. 

Even Jungkook didn’t seem that evil. You really don’t think that evil people would get embarrassed and blush the way he did with Bhea. Or have such a clear respect for her the way he did. For all the anger he holds towards you, he doesn’t seem to be purposefully malicious. Maybe you could be a sith. Maybe they’ve only gotten bad reps because of the few incredibly powerful sith out there. The public ones, the ones that make names for themselves, that want to be remembered for millenia.  

You look around, finding some soap and scrubbing yourself almost raw in the need to finally feel clean. Once you deem yourself clean enough, and with the idea that maybe you don’t have to be totally evil to be a sith, you shut the water off. You look through the storage cabinets until you find something to dry yourself off with and make your way back into the bedroom. 

You dress slowly, relishing in the feel of the fabric against your skin. It’s so different from the rough material you wore before. You step up to the mirror, making a few final adjustments before you’re giving yourself one last lookover.

You have to give it to Bhea, she certainly knows how to dress a sith. The leather pants are soft and supple, you’d thought they’d be stiff, but you know you’ll be able to easily move in these. They blend in well with the black leather boots. The shirt itself is simple, just a plain black tank top in a soft, breathable fabric, but it’s topped by a short vest in a deep blue, strands of beads latching it closed across your breasts and joining the collar to close around your neck. 

Bands of black metal wrap around your wrists and mid-bicep holding sheer fabric in the same shade as the vest, one large slit running the length to allow better movement . Your belt wraps around your waist, a mix of more blue fabric and black metal, panels of more sheer hanging down to your ankles in shifting shades of blue and purple and speckled with glitter, giving the impression of a galaxy. 

You’d think that the skirt would make it hard to move efficiently, but a few experimental stretches show that the panels are put together in a way that they hold large slits to not hinder your movement. You run your fingers through your hair and smile. You feel like an entirely new person and you can’t help but think that maybe this would be a really good change. 

You open the door, startling when you come face to face with Jungkook, who looks just as surprised as you. His gaze drops to your new clothes, eyes widening as he takes in the expanse of skin exposed on your neck and upper chest. You see him swallow before he’s jerking his gaze away, cheeks turning red and his tongue pushing against his cheek, though this time it seems to be for a reason entirely unrelated to being annoyed at you.

“I was just coming to make sure you didn’t break anything.” He mutters. “I see that you’re fine. I’ll be in the cockpit.” And he turns and walks away before you can say anything. 

You hold in a snicker at his reaction, pleased at the way he tried and failed to hide the way his cheeks flushed. You dart after him, following him the short distance to the other side of the ship. 

Your snarky comment dies on your tongue as soon as you cross the threshold, suddenly staring out into space. Your mouth drops open and you move closer to the window, gaze wide eyed as you watch the stars pass you. 

Jungkook watchs you quietly, scowl softening at the way the starlight shines on your wonder-filled face. He clears his throat, shaking his thoughts from his mind, “You might want to sit down. Now that you’re done, we’re going to jump to hyperspace.”

You turn to stare at him, watching as he takes a seat at the controls and it takes you a second to realize what he said, scurrying to take the seat beside him before he decides to go ahead while you’re still standing. You watch in fascination at the way his hands flit over the controls, completely at ease and confident in his motions. 

The ship jerks slightly and you turn your gaze back to the window as the stars turn into streaks of light, blurring by as you fly through space. You don’t know how long it lasts, it feels like you blink and the stars are starting to return to pinpricks of light as a massive red planet looms before you both. 

Jungkook sets the ship down with minimal fuss before he’s leading you off the ship. The land surrounding the landing bay is arid and sandy and your nose wrinkles in distaste. You just came from sand and now you’re back. Why couldn’t they have built this somewhere nicer. 

You trail after Jungkook as he moves inside, easily navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the building. He stops by what appears to be an armory, motioning for you to stay by the door while he goes to speak to the Twi’lek in there. They exchange a few laughs before the Twi’lek hands something to Jungkook that looks like a stun baton. He hands it to you once he’s close enough. 

Frowning, you tentatively take it. “What is it?”

He snorts, eyes rolling as he starts walking again. “Well you can’t get a saber until you pass your trials. But you need some sort of weapon to take them. That’s a training saber. All acolytes use them for their trials. If you pass, then you’ll get a lightsaber.”

You give it a few practice swings, testing its weight, narrowly missing Jungkook’s arm. He gives you a dark look and you sheepishly drop your arm. You hadn’t actually meant to almost hit him, the balance hadn’t been what you were expecting. He makes a few more turns before entering another room. You linger in the doorway but Jungkook waves you to follow until you’re standing before a man sitting at a desk.

“Overseer. This is the… acolyte that Lord Namjoon would like to put into the trials.”

The Overseer’s brow raises, a playful smirk on his face as he eyes you over before he’s looking at Jungkook. “He looking for an upgrade?”

Jungkook’s shoulder tense, but his words come out friendly and joking. “Shut up. You know no one can best me.” He gestures you closer. “She’s all yours. I’ll be upstairs in the training rooms.” He pauses before an almost sinister smile stretches his lips. “Test her well.”

You bat your eyelashes up at him, lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. “Aw, you’re not gonna stick around to watch me pass? I thought we were friends.”

Jungkook makes a face of disgust. “Like I would ever stoop so low for friends.” He snarls before leaving. 

The Overseer laughs as he watches Jungkook’s retreating figure before he’s standing and beckoning you to follow him through a different door. 

The room he leads you to is massive, but holds only a large table in the middle of the room. With a wave of his hand, the table comes to life to reveal that it’s a holo map. He walks the length of the table before stopping at an outcropping of rocks. He gestures to the ends of the table where you can see what looks like part of the building you’re currently in is sat then draws your attention to the area he’s standing by. 

“That is the exit to the Valley. This is a tomb that holds a holocron full of ancient secrets. Retrieve it and bring it back here.”

You squint at him. That seems way too easy. “That’s all?”

He gestures to the expanse between the two points. “Well you have to get there on your own. And remember the way back. If you get lost out there, you’re on your own.”

“How long do I get?”

He snorts. “You just need to bring it back. Time doesn’t matter for this.”

You step closer to examine the map. It doesn’t seem too terribly far to the tomb, though there are a few twists and turns on the way and it certainly seems like it’d be easy enough to get lost. And getting lost on a desert planet is never good. 

“Do I get supplies?” You look up at him.

“Do you need them?” He seems slightly perplexed, like he’s never been asked that before.

You walk around the table, tracing the best path to take. “It’s not very long. But given the unfamiliar terrain, weather, and day cycle, it could take longer than one would think. Also, once in there it could take a while. I doubt this would be some sort of trial if it were as easy as walking a ways to a tomb and retrieving a holocron.” You glance at the saber. “And highly doubt I would need a weapon for something easy. So, yes, supplies seem necessary.”

He nods appraisingly at you. “I can see why Lord Namjoon is interested in you.” He gestures behind you to a set of large double doors. “When you go through there, there’s a small requisitions area you can get supplies at. The room then opens out into the Valley.” He approaches you. “There’s one last thing before I let you go. ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.’ The Sith Code. That is your new philosophy. Learn it. Etch it into your heart because it is one with you now as much as the Force is.”

You nod, repeating the words in your head, feeling exhilarated at the rush of power that follows. 

The Overseer nods and gestures to the table. “Take as much time as you need in here and begin whenever you are ready. You know what you must do.”

With that, he leaves, retreating back to his office. You watch him go before turning back to the map and looking over the path you want to take to the tomb. It’s simple enough but you go over it multiple times, committing it to memory and working out landmarks you can use to keep you from getting too hopelessly lost if you happen to get turned around out there. He said there was no time component but you can’t help but feel like you need to go at least a little fast. Something about the dismissive way that Jungkook thinks that you won’t pass makes you want to succeed and succeed quickly. Maybe also because you want to impress Namjoon, prove that you’re worth the chance he took on you. 

Once you’re reasonably confident that you know the path, you go through the door the Overseer had indicated, met with a smaller room that opens to the outside. The building sits on a rise on this side, you can see the sand sloping away from the building and the way the maze-like canyon of tombs is laid out almost from above. The room for the most part sits empty, sand beginning to creep back into the building from the doorway to outside. One wall of the room is taken by a counter, behind which you see a Chiss woman working among some shelves. 

When you approach, she looks a little surprised but pauses her work to meet you at the counter. “How can I help you?” She asks with a tilt of her head. 

“I wanted to get some supplies for my trials.”

“For your trials? You think it’ll take that long?”

You don’t understand why they keep pushing like this is strange. There’s obviously more to your trial than what was told. Being better prepared means that you have an even better chance of survival. “Yes.” You gesture toward the door leading out. “You can’t predict weather in a place like this. Or what’s going to happen once you get into a tomb.” You knew that one painfully well. “If I want to survive and pass, I should make sure I’m as well equipped as possible, yes?”

Her lips curl into a pleased smile. “Of course.” She slides a small datapad over. “This is everything available to acolytes. Choose whatever you feel you need.”

You glance over the list, it’s fairly small, but you suppose they don’t want to give too much to people who may not return and they’d prefer to not lose things to the tomb when they already hold such secrets. That certainly won’t be you though. 

“I’ll take a medkit, a couple of rations, a fire starter, flashlight, and a small blanket. Oh, and a shoulder bag.” 

The woman nods and moves among the shelves, gathering the things that you noted. She slides them across the counter to you. 

“You’re all set. Good luck acolyte. You certainly have more promise than some others I’ve seen venture out into the desert with nothing but their training saber.” She gives you a nod and turns back to the shelves.

You take the bag, arranging your supplies in it before slipping it over your head and adjusting it so it sits comfortably on your hip. You pause at the doorway, looking out over the Valley before you. You close your eyes and recite the code in your head again, smiling when that same heady rush of power fills you. Determination in your eyes as you open them, you set foot into the Valley. 

You make it to the tomb relatively easily. You barely had to rely on your memory of the location, your body just seemed to know where to go and you trusted your instincts. You had one momentary hiccup where you had to fight a giant beast with tusks that were easily the size of your arm. You’d thought you’d be able to just skirt around it, but it seemed to sense you and once it’s gaze locked on you, it was relentless in pursuit. It was an ugly thing but fierce. Luckily it was so big that it wasn’t very nimble and you could easily navigate around it. You’ve fought big things before and know that if you can get on top that it’s all over for them. Especially when you have something as powerful as the training saber. You can’t wait to get your real one.

The entrance to the tomb is open but deserted and it leaves you instantly on high alert. You move slowly inside to see that torches have been lit and hung on pillars, casting a flickering glow on the walls. You pause, listening to see if you can hear anyone else, but there’s only the faint sound of the wind blowing through the valley behind you. 

Moving cautiously, you creep further into the tomb. The Overseer didn’t tell you where exactly the holocron was going to be, but the tomb can’t be that complicated to navigate, at least given the previous one you’d been in. You check for signs of recent activity, but aside from the lit torches, there appears to be no signs of people having recently been in the antechamber. 

You take a second to look closer around the room, noticing two halls that branch off from this room. Pursing your lips, you move closer to one side, trying to read the inscription beside the hall but it’s written in a language you don’t understand so it’s not particularly helpful. 

You glance between the two ways once again, but something tells you that this is the one you need to go down. Your instincts haven’t failed you yet so you head down the hallway, careful to keep your steps light and soundless. 

The path doesn’t branch, just twists and turns and it feels like ages before you come to another room. You crouch, because you hear voices echoing here. You peek around the corner, keeping yourself pressed as close to the wall as possible and slowly scan the room before you. It takes you a few minutes before you discover the source of the voices, a few figures tucked amongst some pillars and rubble and shadows. 

You double check the rest of the room, ensuring that the only people here are those gathered in the small group. When you confirm the rest of the room's emptiness, you look for a way to creep closer, there’s too much echo and they’re speaking too lowly for you to hear what exactly they’re saying beyond that they are speaking. A downed pillar stretches out from the door towards the group and if you stay low enough to the ground, they won’t be able to see you. 

Creeping along, you’re careful to avoid any loose rubble so you don’t alert the others to your presence. Once close enough, you stop and listen to the conversation happening. 

“We’ve tried everything. We’re never going to pass if we can’t get in there.” One says, voice laced with irritation.

“I know that. But it’s clearly meant to be open. We just have to find the right key. What did the inscription say again?”

“The essence of life, the key to power, bathe the crystal to gain it’s knowledge.” You hear a third recite. 

You didn’t see any sort of crystal when you entered. It must be further in then.

“That’s so stupid. Why do they always have to be vague?” The first one sighs.

You listen as the two begin discussing what they’ve tried and what the inscription could mean, missing that the second person hasn’t spoken in a while until their voice suddenly comes from much closer. 

“Well, well. What have we here?” You look up with wide eyes as the red skinned man towers over your crouched form. You’ve never seen a Sith pureblood before, but you’ve heard plenty about them. His eyes shrewdly take in your form before he’s laughing cruelly. He glances over to his companions. “I think I’ve got a few new ideas to try to get that door open.”

He reaches for you but you quickly push yourself back and scramble to your feet. You see the other two have also risen to their feet and look startled by your sudden appearance. You put some more space between them and yourself. You look them over and see that they each have training sabers of their own. Acolytes. You knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as just walking into a tomb and retrieving a holocron. 

The Sith approaches you slowly. “You know, there’s one thing that’s very vital to life. Something that just happens to be liquid and we can easily use to bathe a crystal in.” He muses and you feel your stomach sink at the implication. 

The other two look lost for a moment before realization crosses their faces, replaced by matching smirks. One of them speaks. “Seems there’s someone looking out for us.”

Three blades are pulled out and your chest constricts. One you could probably take. Three at once? You’d think you’d have better chances at fighting a herd of those beasts from earlier. You roll your shoulders and pull your own saber out. You think of Jungkook and the smarmy look that would surely be on his face if you fail and let that rage fill you.

You smirk. “You can certainly try.”

The Sith steps back, letting the other two advance on you. You know there’s too much rubble where you were eavesdropping for a good fight, all too easy to lose your footing and so you back up towards the middle of the room where the rubble is more sparse. They follow, and you can tell by their snickering that they think you’re backing away because you’re scared. What a joke they’d make becoming sith if they can’t even think about their surroundings while starting a fight. 

Your saber hums to life with little effort and you level the two with an eyebrow raised in challenge. The smaller of the two charges, saber held aloft and you easily deflect the intended blow. He’s sloppy in his movements, he clearly doesn’t have a lot of formal training weilding a weapon. Sabers and poles are vastly different but many of the principles are similar and that is going to give you an advantage over this one at the very least. 

He lets out a frustrated cry and spins to try to attack again, but it’s another blow that you easily shrug off. If he was smart he’d work with his companions to attack instead of doing it alone. His next attack, you deflect and grab his wrist twisting until he drops his saber with a yelp of pain. Once it’s out of his hand you shove him roughly away and he stumbles and falls at his companion’s feet. 

You stoop down to pick up his fallen saber, grinning at the three wide eyed looks you recieve. You twirl them both. “Well, are we doing this?”

The one who’s saber you took struggles to his feet, looking helplessly to his companions. The other leans over to whisper in his ear and then they’re both moving together, the smaller one circling behind you, while the other approaches you from the front. You listen carefully for the one you can’t see while keeping your eyes focused on the one in front of you. 

This one seems a lot more calculating in their movements, slower and more careful to act than the first. They’ll be a little more difficult, but they still seem to underestimate you. They attack and you block with one saber while using the other to make your own attack while they’re distracted. They’re not distracted enough, just barely dodging your attack and moving quickly out of your range. You meet in a few instances of blows and parries before they manage to catch your wrist when you try to attack. 

You're quickly seized from behind by the other, arms tight around your waist. You squirm in his hold but his grip remains firm. The one holding your wrist tightens their grip in a clear bid to get you to drop the saber but remembering your fight with Jungkook, you quickly lift your feet, taking advantage of the one holding you and kicking the one in front of you. 

All three of you are pushed back, your landing cushioned by the body beneath you, leaving you less stunned than either of them. You turn quickly, slamming the butt of the saber into the side of his head and his head lulls to the side. You try not to think if it’s in unconsciousness or death. That’ll be something to dwell on later.

Panting, you push yourself to your feet, watching as the other struggles to their feet as well, blood dripping from their temple. They look furious and rush you, clearly past cautiousness and just wanting to be rid of you. Their fast and brutal attacks leave you struggling to keep up and block, a couple glancing blows leaving burns on your arms. 

You can’t let this be the end. You didn’t run away from your slave life just to fail when your true freedom is within reach. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and let the force flow through you. You push back, forcing the other to take steps back or risk being hit. They get only a few steps before they trip over a piece of rubble, saber dropping from their hand. 

You point one saber at their throat. “I would give up.” You warn.

They snarl at you. “As if I ever would. You’re weak.” 

You press the tip of the other saber to their chest until they cry out from the searing pain. They spit something else at you, blindly reaching for their saber and you press the tip more firmly into their chest, it sinks half an inch into the flesh.

“Surrender.”

“I’ll die either way. Better in a fight than to be called a coward.” They push themselves up just enough for the saber to sink a little further in, crying out in pain. 

You hesitate. Did it make you evil to kill them? It was self defense. Kill or be killed. Would they have been killed if they made it back unsuccessfully? You realize that the way the Overseer had spoken that yes, they were likely to be killed if they made it back without completing their task. Or worse, enslaved. This is a mercy, you think as you push the saber completely through their chest. 

They splutter, blood dripping from their mouth as they twitch once before dropping, lifeless, back to the ground. You take a second to process, even when escaping enslavement, you hadn’t killed anyone. You blink a few times before jerking the saber out of their chest, ignoring the conflicting feelings you still have and turn back to the Sith.  

He hasn’t moved since he discovered you, standing there passively observing your fight with his own saber drawn. He looks from one body to the other and shrugs. 

“Well you saved me the trouble. But I’m afraid that this is the end for you now.”

You snort. “Good luck.”

He tilts his head. “Bold for someone untrained.”

“No, I just know what’s at stake and what I have to prove.”

He nods slightly, stepping close but stopping a few feet away from you. He doesn’t move further. He’s a lot more confident and most likely has had more training. You assume this was exactly what the Overseer was banking on since he didn’t seem confident in your return. He doesn’t even seem all that worried about the impending fight, stance relaxed, saber held loosely at his side. He looks more like he’s going for a stroll than a fight.

You flex your grip on your sabers. You’ve never fought two handed before, but having them in your hands feels right. It gives you the confidence that you can handle this fight. 

He continues to stand in place and you assume he’s waiting for you to make a move, hoping to use whatever momentum you create against you. Meaning that you can’t attack first, you have to wait. It’s strange to stand there waiting to be attacked, but you won’t give in to his play. 

He snorts when the minutes continue to stretch then his free hand raises and with a flick of his wrist, you’re pushed back; stumbling and tripping over some rubble. Your arm scraps against the stone, fine lines of red forming. You push yourself up, face hard. Against your better judgement, you charge. You have to, you have to get close to do any damage. Your control of the Force is severely lacking and that’s definitely come back to hurt you here. You just have to think a step ahead of him; if he knows what he’s going to do when you charge, you have to know how to counter that. 

He sidesteps the attack and you turn, foot kicking out and connecting with his side. He slams into the pillar. He shoves himself off of it with a snarl. He seems to be done playing around, advancing on you slightly quicker than you had anticipated. You take a few steps back, feet shifting to give you a better bracing stance. You know his attack is going to be fast and brutal, giving you no easy way to maneuver so you need to be prepared now. 

The first clash of his blade against yours has your feet sliding back an inch with the force of it. The impact vibrates your whole arm. You try to get an attack in with your other saber, but he quickly grabs your wrist, squeezing until it starts to hurt. You push with the other blade, just enough force to send him back and get him to release your hand. You only get a second’s reprieve before he’s attacking again. 

Time blurs as you fight, it’s a struggle to keep up with him. He’s at an advantage, he didn’t have to fight 2 other people first. Your muscles ache but you can’t stop for even a second; it could be a matter of life or death. He gets a few hits in, nothing too bad, but you can feel the blood dripping from each wound, feel the tug of singed skin with each movement. You get a few hits in too; which seems to enrage him all the more. 

He begins to get sloppy the angrier he gets; it makes his moves both easier and harder to predict. But you work out a tentative plan, if you can get him prone, you can win this. You’ve just gotta get him on the ground first. Your fight has moved you across a large part of the room and you manage to catch sight of some large loose stones behind him. You grit your teeth, forcing him further back, towards the stones. He deflects your attack and you are completely blindsided when his fist connects with your jaw. 

It sends you stumbling, one saber dropping from your hand and you taste iron on your tongue. You spit, turning back and bringing the saber still in your hands down with all your strength. He stumbles from the force of the impact, taking a step back to brace himself but he ends up stepping on some rubble and he falls. 

You stomp the heel of your boot into his wrist until his saber falls and you kick it away. His hand raises and you can feel the Force gathering around it. You mirror him, trying your best to draw the Force to you the way he is. The blasts meet between you both, each of you being pushed back a few inches. Sweat beads along your hairline as all your concentration and will goes into matching the strength of his push.

Pain blossoms in your head and you wince, but you push past the pain, ignoring it as best you can as you struggle to take a step forward. It takes a minute, but you manage the step and the small victory gives you enough of an encouraging boost to continue to slowly advance on the man. He seems mildly surprised but aside from the slight rise in his eyebrows, he appears unphased. 

The pain in your head is excruciating when you’re finally close enough to him and something wet drips from your nose. It takes everything you have left to lift your other hand, the one that, by some miracle, still clutches your saber. You take a breath, gaze meeting his and you smirk in triumph. 

He looks confused for only a second before you embed the saber in as far as you can. His hand spasms and a massive burst of energy erupts, sending you both flying. You slam into some rubble, wheezing as dust rises around you. Stars dance in your vision and you can feel consciousness slipping away from you. 

Gasping awake, you stare at the ceiling. You hadn’t even realized you’d passed out; you also have no idea how long you may have been passed out for. It could’ve been minutes or hours, even a whole day or more is possible. All you really know is that everything hurts. And it’s a testament to how out of it you are that it takes you a moment to realize that the fact that you’re awake at all must mean that you succeeded. 

You pant as you struggle to push yourself upright. You hurt and when you reach up to touch the back of your head, your hand comes away red and wet. That certainly explains the dizziness and the difficulty you have standing now. You have to take a moment standing completely still before you feel confident enough to move at all and even when you do, you stumble and trip the whole way to your pack. 

You dig through it, pulling the medpac out once you find it and rifling through until you find the bacta salve. Your fingers slip when you try to open it and you nearly drop it. Wiping your hands off on your clothes, your second attempt is much more successful. Blindly reaching behind you, you rub some of the salve onto your head where it seems wettest; it leaves your hair feeling heavy and greasy. You have no idea if you actually managed to cover the wound with the healing salve but the lessening sting you feel seems to say that you at least got some of it close enough to get some of the effects. You spend some time spreading some across the rest of your wounds and the small container is quickly emptied. You can only hope nothing worse happens to you. 

You slump against the pillar once finished. You feel like you could sleep for a week. But you don’t have the luxury of time here. Plus, you’re fairly certain that even if your current competition is dealt with, there’s sure to be more coming. You give yourself a few minutes though, taking the time to see if the medpac holds any sort of painkiller; which to your luck, it does. 

You swallow the pills dry before you push yourself back to your feet. Shouldering your pack and collecting both your saber and the new one you’re now claiming as yours, one of which you have a hard time prying from the chest of the dead Sith, you move towards the only other door in this room, the one that the three other acolytes had been gathered next to. If you’d been the first one here, you probably wouldn’t have even realized it was actually a door. The whole thing was made of the same stone as the wall and pillars surrounding it, the seams barely noticeable. The only difference to the walls is the small plaque sent into the wall beside a recessed circle of stone just a little bigger than your hand, a small crystal set in the center of it. 

You look over the plaque, but it does you no good because you have no idea what language it’s written in. It takes you a minute to recall what the acolytes had said it said. The essence of life, the key to power, bathe the crystal to gain it’s knowledge. They had seemed to have some idea of the answer when they discovered you. Essence of life? You glance at your hand, once again streaked with blood. Oh, essence of life. 

Tentatively you reach out, smearing your blood onto the crystal. You step back expectantly. You frown when nothing happens, blood has to be the essence of life. Why didn’t it work? You think through the inscription again. You’ve got the essence of life… The key to power?

Oh. Oh, you need more than just the essence to open this. You step forward, you don’t have the slightest idea on how to do this, but you’ve got to try at the very least. The circle did seem pretty conveniently hand sized. The stone is cool against your palm, but the crystal feels oddly warm. The Force is the key to power, you just have to figure out how to channel it with no previous training. Closing your eyes, you focus on getting something to happen. But after a few moments where nothing changes, you open your eyes again with a huff. 

You think back to when Jungkook had you by the throat and the power you felt gathering around you when you kicked him away, to all the occurences during the fight where you felt the force surround you like a cloak. But no matter how hard you try, there’s no shift in the air around you. You growl in frustration, shoving ineffectually at the wall. 

Why was it so hard to get the Force to cooperate with you now? You hadn’t even been trying before. You think back through everything you’ve been told, which isn’t all that much, but you really hope that maybe there’s a clue hidden somewhere in someone’s words. But you woefully can’t find much of anything that might help, the only thing you really learned was the sith code. 

You pause, the code. You know you might look stupid, but luckily there’s no one around right now to see that. You place your hand back in the circle, taking a calming breath. Then you recite the sith code, feeling power cloak you and slide down your arm. It connects with the crystal and searing pain shoots up your arm as lightning races across your skin. 

You cry out in pain, jerking your hand away from the wall. The pain stops immediately but the door remains firmly shut. You chew your lip, looking down at your hand. It looks completely unscathed, you wiggle your fingers and aside from a slight tingle of discomfort, you’d have thought you imagined the lightning. 

Had you done something wrong? The inscription seemed easy enough, there doesn’t seem like another component to it. You decide to try again, maybe you just weren’t concentrating enough. However the same thing happens when you try again. You need to do this. You need to prove that you have what it takes, you refuse to give Jungkook the satisfaction of seeing you fail and being right. You know you’re strong enough to be better than him. 

Your eyes widen, strength. That had to be what you were missing here. With power, sith value strength, if you lack strength then you lack power. You stare at the wall, this isn’t going to be pleasant. 

Putting your hand back into the slot, you steel yourself, gritting your teeth as the lightning starts as soon as you finish reciting the code. It hurts. You have to brace your other hand on the wall in an attempt to keep you grounded and from pulling your hand away. You think of how smug Jungkook would be if you never came back. You refuse to fail.

You don’t know how long the pain lasts; you feel slightly delirious from the crackle of power that traces your veins. But as abruptly as it came, it stops, leaving you breathless. There’s stone grinding against stone and the wall rumbles beneath your hands. You slowly pull away, afraid that it’ll stop and you’ll have to endure another round of pain. To your relief, it continues and soon enough the door is swinging open before you. The hallway that is revealed is dark for a moment before crystals lining the walls slowly come to life, swathing the length of the hall in a red glow. 

You wait, making sure that nothing else is going to happen before stepping cautiously into the hall and making your way down it. Halfway down the hallway, an odd feeling settles in your gut and you find yourself stepping back. Your confusion at the action is short lived when a moment later, lightning arcs between the walls where you had just been about to walk. It looks much more lethal than what engulfed you to open the door. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful for whatever it was that tipped you off to the trap. You proceed carefully, hoping that there’s not anymore traps or if there are, that you can sense it before it’s too late. You safely reach the end of the hall, the room is small, barely wider than the hall. In the center of the room is a pedestal, about the width of your shoulders, on which sits a jet black pyramid, the top quarter of which is clear. 

Approaching carefully, you look through the transparent material and can just make out the shape of the holocron within. You run your fingers across the surface of the pyramid, looking for anything that may open it, but the material is completely smooth, even where the two different materials join is seamless. You look around the room, hoping for any other clues, but the room is all smooth stone, no inscriptions or writings or anything. You walk a few circles around the pedestal, trying to figure out how to continue when something begins to glow in the corner, drawing your attention. A wash of blue fills the corner, quickly forming the shape of a woman. It’s hard to tell her race, her entire being is tinted blue, but she’s unmistakably a sith. There’s something about the way she holds herself and the thick black robes that shroud her form. 

She gazes at you calmly, gaze trailing slowly over you and you’ve never felt more insignificant and scrutinized, not even when Namjoon looked at you. Her lips curl into a pleased smile and she gives a small nod. A soft click sounds and you turn to see the pyramid has opened, granting you access to the holocron within. When you turn back to the figure, whether to question her or thank her you’re not sure, but she’s gone once you look back.

You belatedly realize she must have been a Force ghost. You’ve heard the tales of them, but you didn’t think you’d ever encounter one in your life. She had looked almost… approving of you being here. You wonder who she was and, more importantly, why she had helped you. At least, you assume she helped you. There’s really no other explanation as to why or how the pyramid opened when she nodded. You quickly gather the holocron, tucking is safely away inside your bag. 

You take the hall back to the antechamber, sparing a glance to the bodies that remain. You feel a little bad about just leaving them there. But you know if it were reversed that they’d have left you here to rot too. And, you reason, this is a tomb. Bodies are meant to rest here. It’s better than being left outside and rot away under the sun just to be torn apart and eaten by animals. 

You continue through the ruins, retracing your path back to the entrance quietly, sure to keep an ear listening for anyone who may have come after you. You encounter no one though and you take only a moment at the doorway to outside to recall your route back to the Academy before you’re setting out. 

You make it maybe halfway before the wind picks up. You freeze, sudden wind is never good. You take a look around, quickly locating the rapidly approaching wall of tan in the distance. Scanning your surroundings in the valley, you see no immediate place to take shelter and panic rises in you. You try to recall the map and if there’s something nearby, but you hadn’t paid much attention to other tombs and areas of the map. You really wish you had. You glance back to the approaching storm, you don’t have long before you get trapped in it. Quickening your pace, you continue on the path back to the academy, hoping that you can find shelter along the way soon. 

The sand starts to whip around you and you grab a cloth from your bag to cover your nose and mouth to at least keep you from breathing in the sand now that the storm is practically on top of you and you’ve yet to find somewhere to hide. You’re about to give up hope on finding shelter when the slightest glint of metal off to your right catches your attention and you don’t even think twice before sprinting towards it. 

You make it through the threshold just as the storm begins in earnest outside, the sudden gusts pushing you further inside. You double over, coughing, as you try to catch your breath and expel the sand that you managed to breath in. You wheeze for a moment before pushing yourself upright, glancing around to finally take in your surroundings. 

You assume it’s another tomb, though this one appears far more modern than the previous one, given that this one is all polished metal. There’s signs that this has been explored thoroughly, which leaves you feeling a little relieved because that means that it’s unlikely that anyone will be here right now. Turning, you look out the opening to watch the sandstorm. You have no idea how long it’ll last, sandstorms are incredibly unpredictable and you could be here for only a few minutes to a few weeks. You just hope that it’s not the weeks option. 

You set your bag down by the door before slowly making your way around the room, fingers tracing along the wall as you look at the different inscriptions and occasional graffiti. You freeze when your fingers connect with a section of wall that feels different. You take a step back, looking over the wall and trying to figure out what’s different. 

It looks the same as the rest of the walls, but when your fingers touched it, you could tell there was something different. You put one hand on the section of wall that’s odd and one on the wall beside where it starts to feel different. It takes you a few moments before you realize what the difference means. This is a door. One that’s incredibly well hidden, blending in perfectly with the walls that surround it. 

Leaning closer, you begin to look for a way to open it. Deciding to use some of your newly gained experience, you use a bit of the force to assist you and a panel slides open, revealing a crystal similar to the one from the other tomb. You’re leery of activating it, for fear of the lightning happening again, but also that something worse might happen. But the idea of finding something that had been missed sends a thrill through you and you smile at the image in your mind of gifting whatever you find to Namjoon. You wonder if he’d give you a dimpled smile again. You wonder how pissed Jungkook would be to see you hand something new over to Namjoon.

You squeeze your eyes closed as you touch the gem, willing a little of the Force into it. There’s a click and then the crystal is sliding away from your fingers at the door swooshes open. The room revealed is small; you’ve seen closets bigger than this. You step forward, there’s not much to see in here though and you feel dismayed that this has been found already. 

There’s a small chest on the wall opposite the door and you pick it up to take it back out into the antechamber so you can keep an eye on the storm. You sit against the wall, watching the wall of sand outside before turning your attention to the chest. Opening reveals that maybe the room hadn’t been discovered because the chest is still full. 

You pull the items out one by one; there’s an amulet, a bracelet, a ring, two scrolls, and a small black dagger. You feel a faint thrum of power from each of the items as you turn them over in your hands. You have no idea what any of them do or are for, but you know this seems exactly like something Namjoon would enjoy. At least you hope so. You don’t know a lot about your future master, but he seems the type to like knowledge. You tuck all of the items safely away in your pack, resolving to keep them hidden from the Overseer. He never said you had to turn everything you found in, just the holocron. 

Setting aside the chest, you stare out the door for lack of anything else to do. It seems it’s going to be a longer one when one hour then two pass and the storm has yet to lighten up in any way. You eat, pace the perimeter of the room again, look over the artifacts you found. But nothing outside changes. You’re not even sure just how much time has passed, but you know it’s been a while because it’s nearly pitch black out, making the howling of the wind all the more eerie. Deciding that there’s nothing else you can do because of the storm, you pull out the blanket and your fire starter and create a small fire with some of the discarded items strewn about the room. You hunker down beside it, blanket wrapped around yourself. You’re just glad that you’re used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions, sleeping on this floor is nothing and you drift into a light doze soon enough. 

Bright sunlight jolts you awake. You blink at the brightness, squinting as you look towards the door to see that the storm has cleared finally. You groan and push yourself up. Your whole body aches, the effects of the fight making themselves known. You pay it little mind, gathering your things and stepping back out into the Valley. It takes you a moment to get your bearings, but you see that the storm didn’t get you too far from the path you need to take. Confident that you can make it back to the Academy soon, you set out once again.

Lucky for you, you do make it back with no more issues and the cool metal interior of the Academy is the most welcoming thing you’ve ever experienced. The shop is shuttered so you limp your way through the room and to the map room. It also appears empty and so you make your way to the Overseer’s office and hear voices. You’re relieved that you won’t have to try to hunt for someone in this massive building. 

You enter, realizing that the Overseer is actually talking to Jungkook. Well, it seems more accurate that they’re laughing and talking shit about you. Anger bubbles up in you and you stalk forward, digging the holocron from your pack as you go. 

Slamming it on the desk between the two, they both startle, turning to look at you. You stare at Jungkook. “Your holocron, Overseer.”

“There’s no way-” 

You wheel on the Overseer, expression hard. “Would you like to go see the corpses?”

He looks taken aback, quickly averting his gaze from yours to carefully take the holocron from you. He turns it over a few times before nodding. He looks apologetically to Jungkook. 

“Congratulations. You’ve passed. We can continue on to less time consuming trials.” 

You beam, turning back to Jungkook. “How lucky for me, hm?”

The rest of your trials go well and, in just a week, you’re back on the ship, headed back to Dromund Kaas, much to Jungkook’s absolute displeasure. The more of your trials that you passed, the more irritated you could see him getting. You take an incredibly long shower once on the ship, accessing the damage still prevalent on your body. After seeing a medic, you’re not as torn up as you had been. But there’s still some slight bruising and minor scratches you can see. 

The shower does wonders to revitalize you after your trials, as does the knowledge that you’re on your way back to see Namjoon and you can present your findings to him, hopefully with Jungkook in the vicinity. You don’t spend any time with Jungkook on this trip, choosing instead to stay in the small bedroom, and he seems putout that he has to come find you so you can both leave. 

Once you arrive on Dromund Kaas, Jungkook leads you to the Academy and towards the Artificer in the basement. There, you take great delight in learning and helping craft your two new sabers, happily clipping them to your belt once finished. You make note to come back here to learn more from the Artificer because this seems like an interesting skill to take up. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes when he sees you have two sabers strapped to your belt. “Really? Need a backup just in case you fumble?”

You glare at him. “Hey rockhead, plenty of accomplished sith have used two sabers. At least it’s not a double sided one.” You smirk as your gaze drifts to his own saber resting on his hip. “Those aren’t even that useful in combat.”

You walk off before he can respond. You have absolutely no idea where you’re going, but you’ll be damned if you let Jungkook get the last word. If you really need help, you can always just ask someone to point you in the direction of Namjoon’s office. You hear the thud of boots and then Jungkook is beside you, gently directing you towards a lift. It doesn’t take you long to reach the office and Jungkook is quick to knock once reaching the door. 

Hearing a soft ‘enter,’ Jungkook presses the door controls and they swish open before you. Namjoon doesn’t look up when you enter, deeply engrossed in reading something on a datapad before him. He only looks up when neither of you say anything for a stretch of time. He smiles and you’re a little dumbfounded to see his dimples again and that they make him look absolutely adorable without a sinister red light shining on his face, words you would definitely never mention to his face. 

“Little one, you’ve returned.” His eyes trail slowly across your figure, taking in your new clothes and he pauses at your sabers, grin becoming impossibly wider. “I see you’ve passed. As I knew you would. I assume everything went well then?”

You go to speak but Jungkook cuts you off as he shoulders past you. “It went just great.” He grumbles, moving to stand beside Namjoon’s desk and faces you, a scowl firmly on his face. 

You scowl back before turning back to beam at Namjoon. “I did. I seemed to impress a lot of people.” You step up to the desk, lifting your bag to rest on the edge as you quickly dig through it. “I had to make a small detour due to a sandstorm during my trial in the valley. But,” you give a smile of triumph as you pull the dagger, scrolls, and amulet from your bag and present them proudly to Namjoon, “it seemed to work in my favor. I found these.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he looks at the items in your hands. Jungkook looks just as surprised to see that you found something you hadn’t mentioned before now. Namjoon takes them from you, carefully inspecting each of them, his face inscrutable. 

“What useless garbage.” Jungkook looks up at you as he takes a step, reaching out and roughly grabbing your arm. “How dare you waste Namjoon’s time like this, you ungrateful little-”

“Jungkook, enough. Let her go.” Namjoon cuts in. 

Jungkook stares at him in bewilderment, grip tightening around your arm. “You can’t be serious, master. She’s just wasting your time with some useless trash that she thinks will get her into your good graces. You can’t-”

Namjoon’s hands slam on the table as he stands, startling both you and Jungkook. He looks far more imposing when he draws himself up to his full height. “I said that was enough, Jungkook. I believe it is for me to decide whether the items are of worth or not, not yours.” His gaze hardens the longer Jungkook continues to hold your arm until finally he rips his hand away from you. You definitely don’t envy him for being on the receiving end of that look. “You may leave now, Jungkook. You have training in the morning. I will send you the instructions later.”

Jungkook stands there, mouth open for a moment before he snaps it shut with a growl. He throws one last hateful look at you before storming out of the room. Silence descends on the room and you begin to nervously fidget the longer it stretches. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought anything back. It probably wasn’t anything that important.

Namjoon sits back down in his chair with a small sigh. “I’m sorry about him, little one. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he’s usually much friendlier.” He looks up at you with a smile. “But we can deal with that later. I’d rather focus on your accomplishments right now. Not only did you complete your trials, which are incredibly difficult for even acolytes that have trained for it their whole lives, but you managed to find something extra.” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “And you snuck them out of the Valley rather than turning them in.”

He looks over the items again, much more at ease now that Jungkook has left. “Where did you find them?”

“I’m not sure. The tomb looked more recent than the one I went into for my trial and it seemed like whatever of importance was there had already been taken. I took shelter there from a sandstorm and while waiting I found a secret door and these were behind it in a plain chest.”

He purses his lips, carefully inspecting each of the items before setting them down on his desk. “I’ll have to take some time to carefully go over these, but they certainly seem like they’ll be fascinating to study. I’m quite proud.”

You feel yourself flush at the praise.

He stands and motions for you to follow as he leaves his office. “Now, I’ve gotten a place set up for you, it’s next to Jungkook’s and in the same building as mine, just on a lower floor. I can take you there so that you can get settled in before we start on your training in earnest. But first,” he grins as he steps out of the academy, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “I believe we should go celebrate such an accomplishment, don’t you think?”

[floral-and-fine]

Heaven Bent part 1

Daryl Dixon x female reader

A/n: My first time writing anything for The Walking Dead fandom, but this idea was too cute to pass up! Thank you @ewokiee for all the help!

Summary: The reader finds Sophia lost in the woods, too bad neither of them have any sense of direction. 

You stopped in your tracks, taking in your surroundings. You found yourself in a small clearing amongst all the tall trees. This part of the forest looked familiar…maybe.

You furrowed your brows and spun back around, looking to where you just emerged, then turned your head back to look ahead.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, it all looked the same to you. Just leaves, bark, twigs, not a damn thing stuck out.

Sighing, you continued to trudge forward, you didn’t even have a mild clue as to what direction you were traveling in, but it was better than just standing in one place, right? It’s not like there was anybody out there looking for you.

Getting lost wasn’t a big surprise, necessarily, you had always been directionally challenged your whole life. Growing up, you used to live by woods similar to these, as a kid you believed there was something magical about it. Spending hours exploring, not realizing you were lost until it started getting dark out.

But that was back when the world was a safer place. Usually, the sounds of things like car horns and roaring traffic would help guide you to the nearest road, or your mother would come looking for you, shouting out your name so you could follow her voice, but not now. Now the world was eerily quiet, just the occasional bird or rustling of the trees.

“I should get a compass and a map,” you mused to yourself, wishing you had something to help you out of this. “That is If I ever find my way out of here and back to what’s left of civilization.”

It’s not like you were exactly prepared for or even expecting the end of the world to happen. Hell, even before shit hit the fan, you were barely scraping by week to week.

Most people thought of you as a free spirit, constantly moving around, never staying in a place for too long. And while you had your fun and had seen all sorts of wonderful places and had met the most interesting people, a part of you regretted not putting down any roots or living closer to your family.

Under normal circumstances, you loved your lifestyle and wouldn’t have it any other way, but now that you were on your own in the middle of all this mess, you couldn’t help but wonder how it could’ve been had you been with your family or close friends.

Your ears perked up at the sound of water, it was faint, but hopefully, it wasn’t too far away. Automatically, your pace picked up as you moved towards the sound.

You stumbled down a small hill, finding a creek at the bottom. You smiled to yourself, just relieved to see something new. At least it was something more memorable than trees. It could even serve as a little landmark.

You knelt down, dipping your hands into the cool water. It probably wasn’t safe to drink but it felt nice on your skin. You splashed some water on your face, helping you feel a little more awake and refreshed after your hours of walking in this heat.

You were almost tempted to strip and get in just to cool the rest of the way off, but you’d settle for just dipping your feet in.

As you were undoing the laces on your boots, you heard whimpering coming from some place close by. You stilled your movements and focused on the sound. The cries were muffled, whoever it was was trying their best to stay quiet.

“Hello?” You whispered, not wanting to draw any unwelcome attention to yourself, the last thing you needed was to have to run or fight off any zombies.

You waited a moment for a reply, then took a deep breath, and spoke up a bit louder, “Anyone there?”

After a few seconds, a young girl with light brown hair peeked her head out from behind a nearby tree. She was clutching a doll tightly to her chest.

Immediately your body relaxed. The poor girl looked terrified, not that you blamed her, if you were her age, lost in the woods with living corpses on the loose, you would’ve been petrified.

“Did you get lost?” You asked softly.

She nodded, taking a tentative step closer to you.

You smiled warmly at her, hoping she’d come a little closer. “I’m y/n,” you started. “What’s your name?”

“Sophia,” she answered in a small voice.

“Hi Sophia,” you smiled. “You come closer, I don’t bite.” You patted the spot next to you, and watched as she cautiously sat down.

“How’d you get separated from your family, Sweetheart?”

She stared at the water, recalling what had happened the day before. “We were on the road, and a bunch of walkers came out of nowhere.” Her eyes started to water, “we all hid underneath the cars… but one almost got me, so I ran.”

You gently, rubbed her back as she started to cry.

“Mr. Grimes came after me,” she sniffled. “But there were more walkers. He told me to hide, so he could distract them… I was supposed to run back, and I did but I got lost. I-I couldn’t find the road and I was so afraid I’d run into one of those things.” Her shoulders shook as she cried harder.

Wrapping an arm around her, you pulled her in for a hug. “It’s going to be alright,” you murmured. “We’ll find them together.”

You now felt a renewed sense of determination to find your way out of these woods, you wanted nothing more than to get this girl back to her mom.

…

“I like your necklaces,” Sophia spoke up all of sudden causing you to smile. The two of you were walking hand in hand, hoping to find that highway she was talking about.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes fixated on them, specifically the long ones with pretty crystals hanging off of them. “They’re very pretty.”

You slowed down, coming to a stop. Sophia looked up at you, curious as to what you were doing.

“Can you let go of my hand for a second?” You asked, smiling at her. “It’ll be alright.”

Reluctantly, she released her hold, freeing your hand.

You wiggled and stretched your fingers for a bit. Ever since you found her, she had held onto your hand with a death grip. Not that you minded, you figured she was scared of getting separated and being alone again, and in all honesty, you were afraid of the same thing.

Reaching around behind your neck, you pulled one of your necklaces over your head. “Here,” You knelt down and held it in front of Sophia, it was a simple necklace with a single crystal pendant.

“The crystal is an amethyst,” you pointed out. “It's for spiritual protection.”

You placed the necklace in her cupped hands, watching as she ran her fingers over the crystal. “You can keep it,” you chirped happily.

She looked at you wide-eyed, before putting it on. “Thank you,” she whispered.

You nodded, and offered her your hand again, curling your fingers around her palm. “Which way do you think we should keep going?”

…

A couple of days had passed and you started getting worried. You kept it all to yourself though, putting on a brave front for Sophia’s sake.

But things weren’t looking good. You were already running low on food and water. You did your best to ration what was left between the two of you, often giving Sophia a little more than you gave yourself.

You knew the more time that passed the less likely it was that her group would find either of you.

In the daytime, you did everything you could to keep your and her spirits up, like playing little games of I Spy, quietly singing songs, asking her questions about her group.

It sounded like they were a good group of people, for the most part, you wondered if they’d accept you. It had to be better than surviving on your own.

The further the two of you walked, the more lost you felt. It was as though the forest was endless, your own personal hell in a way.

The nights so far had been the worst part. Once you’d find a semi safe-looking spot, you and Sophia would sit against a tree, she’d fall asleep curled by your side, while you stayed awake through the night keeping watch.

That’s when things seemed the most hopeless to you, sitting alone in the dark with just your thoughts to keep you company. You wasted the hours worrying about all the things that could go wrong, how inevitably you’d run out of food, that one or more of those walkers, like Sophia called them, would find you…

Not to mention, you were physically and mentally exhausted, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep any of this up.

As the sun was beginning to rise, you spotted a walker out in the distance. However, you didn’t want to wake Sophia up yet, she needed her rest if the two of you were going to keep searching for your way out of this forest.

You dug through your bag and took out your knife. Carefully, you stood up, trying your best to be quiet. You observed the walker carefully, it moved slowly with a limp.

You had only killed a couple of them total, usually, you preferred just sneaking around and avoiding them.

Sighing, you gripped the handle of the hunting knife tighter and tiptoed towards your target.

Despite how many of these walkers you had seen, it still made you sick to your stomach, between the smell and their appearance you weren’t sure if you could even imagine anything more disgusting.

You approached it from behind, taking a deep breath before taking a hold of its shoulder and plunging the knife through the back of its skull.

Just like that, it fell to the ground. Stepping down onto its back, you reached down and tugged the knife back out. You tried your best to ignore the unpleasant squelching as you wiggled the knife free.

Quickly, you returned to where Sophia was still soundly asleep. Taking out a rag, you wiped off the bloody knife, before slipping it back into your bag.

…

Daryl huffed as he packed a bag and prepped for venturing out into the woods again.

He couldn’t stand the sight of Carol’s moping, he felt bad for her, he truly did, but comforting people wasn’t his strong suit. Made him feel useless watching someone cry and not being able to do a damn thing about.

He never received much comfort or sympathy growing up, his father and brother weren't compassionate types. So he didn’t have a clue as to how to make anyone else feel better. He had seen how Lori and Dale were with the others, always saying the right words, knowing what people needed to hear to get through the bad.

The only thing Daryl could do was go back out there and find Sophia, which was a hell of a lot better than sitting around this farm twiddling his thumbs while everyone else was having a pity party.

“You’re going back out there?” Carol asked softly, she appreciated all his efforts. It honestly surprised her when he volunteered to search for Sophia. A part of her had expected him not to care.

The more she got to know Daryl, the more obvious were the differences between him and Merle. On the surface, he was tough and brash just like his brother, but somewhere inside of Daryl, he cared about the group, about people.

“Ain’t like anyone else is gonna,” he answered, slinging the backpack strap over his shoulder.

Carol placed her hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly, “Thank you.”

Daryl glanced down for a moment before shrugging her hand off.

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he muttered, tightly clenching his jaw. He headed towards the stables, figuring he’d be able to cover more ground by horse then just on foot.

…

“Sophia!” Daryl shouted on the top of his lungs, he didn’t give a damn if he drew the attention of every damn walker in the whole state. He was determined to find her.

It felt like it was all up to him to find her, cause if he didn’t no one else was gonna step up.

Rick had his hands full with Carl, and Daryl could tell that Shane had already given up on the girl. He understood why, little girl lost in the woods, no food, no water, the likelihood she was still alive was slim to none, but there was something in his gut saying otherwise, and it pushed him to keep searching.

Each time he went out looking for her, he honestly believed that this was going to be the time he found her. That he stumbled across wherever she was hiding, and she’d be there, alive.

He continued at a slow trot, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement, before picking up the pace.

…

Neither you nor Sophia had any energy left to keep going.

You offered to carry her when she started falling behind and stumbling over her own feet. You crouched down, allowing her to wrap her arms loosely around your neck as you looped your arms to hold her legs.

For a few hours, you had mustered up just enough will to keep pushing forward, but then it was like your body just gave up. You collapsed to your knees, and couldn’t find the will to stand back up.

Sophia had passed out, and your eyes were growing heavy, you had no fight left, but you tried you to at least stay conscious. You drag yourself over near a tree, so you and Sophia wouldn’t be completely exposed.

You wrapped your arms around her. No matter how much you wanted to keep going, you just couldn’t. Days without sleep and water had finally caught up to you. You felt so heavy and limp.

Looking up to the sky, the sunlight seeping through the leaves and branches was bright and warm.

Your eyes started to water, this was probably your last day alive. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had just been you, but you failed Sophia. You thought about Sophia’s poor mother, out there somewhere close by looking for her daughter. You had hoped you were going to be able to reunite the two of them.

You began to openly weep as a wave of emotion crashed down on you. Maybe Sophia would’ve been better off without your help.

You squeezed her shoulder gently and whispered an apology.

Suddenly, you froze, you couldn’t believe your ears but it sounded like there was someone shouting in the distance. But he was too far, and you couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

Wetting your lips with your tongue you tried to speak. But you could barely get a word out.

“Sophia!” The man yelled, sounding like he was heading towards your direction.

“Here,” you croaked, your voice cracking as you tried to speak louder. Your eyes watered, frustrated that he hadn’t heard you.

“Sophia!” He shouted again. He sounded like he was closer, this was your chance.

“HERE,” you repeated, straining your voice as you tried to shout, praying that he heard you this time. You watched closely in the direction you heard the voice. “Please,” you whispered, “we’re here.”

Time seemed to slow down, and it was absolute torture. You balled your fists tightly, waiting for someone, anyone coming to your rescue. Just as you were about to lose hope, a man with a crossbow emerged.

He was covered in sweat and was panting. His short brown hair was a mess and there were bloodstains on his clothes.

Daryl took a couple of steps forward, he couldn’t believe it. He had actually found Sophia. Although, he wasn’t expecting to find anyone else with her.

“Is she alive?” He asked you.

You nodded in response. “Are you with her group?” You asked, your throat still sore from earlier.

“Yeah,” he answered, trying to figure out how the hell he was going to get you both back to the farm. Sophia was out cold, and you didn’t seem to be any better off.

Daryl scooped Sophia into his arms, then turned back to you. “Got a horse nearby, we just need to get ya to it.”

You nodded, just grateful that he wasn’t going to abandon you out here. You weren’t anyone to him, or to their group… the easiest thing would’ve been to leave you, and you would’ve understood.

As you stood up it felt like your legs were going to give out at any moment. Daryl allowed you to lean against him, as you made your way towards the horse.

Somehow, you managed to find the strength to mount the horse. Daryl instructed you just to hold on, as he grabbed the reins to lead you and the horse back. With Sophia in his arms, he started walking back towards the farm.

You rested against the horse, clutching its mane with your fingers. Your eyes felt heavy like you were going to pass out any minute, the world around you was blurry. Watching the trees pass, you thought you could see figures standing between them, tall dark shadowy figures.

Shaking your head, you tried to focus on your and Sophia’s savior walking ahead of you instead.

You smiled noticing the white wings on his back. You couldn’t figure out if it was another hallucination or if they were real. But maybe he really was an angel.

You sighed, feeling safe in his company. Everything was going to be alright. You rested your eyes, the movements of the horse gently lulling you to sleep.

Daryl stopped in his tracks when he heard a loud thud behind him like someone had dropped a sack of dirty laundry on the ground.

Looking back, he saw the horse saddle empty and you laying in the dirt like a rag doll.

“God damn it,” he muttered.

He gently sat Sophia down, before wandering over to you. He crouched down to your level, making sure you were still alive. God, you were going to end up being more trouble than the girl.

“Hey,” Daryl said sharply, patting your cheek, causing you to stir.

Your eyes slowly opened, blinking a couple of times before they were able to focus on his face. You smiled at him, a warm sweet smile. With the light of the sun shining down on him so brightly, it looked almost as if he had a halo.

“You really are an angel,” you mused in your partially delirious state. “You’ve got wings, a halo, and everything.”

Daryl scowled, “The hell you goin’ on about?”

You giggled, it was pretty funny to hear an angel curse.

Daryl sighed and muttered something under his breath about how you probably went crazy out there. Before helping you sit up.

You looked over to the side and noticed the horse standing there. Tilting your head to the side, you asked “Did I fall off?”

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Terror of the Terra-Firmians!  (Lena Retrospective) (Commission by WeirdKev27): Launchpad Looses his Last Brain Cell and I Loose My Patience

Welcome back Weblena Warriors to the second part of my look at everyone’s favorite Emo Teen Shadow Lesbian Duck... and probably the only one but hey, semantics, Shadow Into Light, which was made possible by viewers like you, the ultra humanite and a commission from WeirdKev27. Picking up where we left off, we have our first episode that has a different intended order than airing order. 

As most of you probably remember, but some of you who joined later might not be aware of the broadcast order for the first half of season one is, in the academic sense, pretty fucked. It’s not Darkwing Duck’s entirely fucked by a web of badger spiders and a queen snake on top to make it some sort of train situation, but by just sorta airing whatever episodes they wanted to, Disney messed with the character balance so Huey got less focus, not that he got a ton of focus this season but still, as well as leaning into the episodes focusing more on the kids with less involvement from the adults which gave the wrong impression about the series. While it IS very focused on the triplets and webby, the show isn’t entirely about them, but as Frank has mentioned a few times, Disney Channel apparently has this WEIRD thing where they assume kids won’t like stories starring the adult characters. 

Yeah I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while. Mostly how it’s so dumb I could swear Pauly Shore was an exec at Disney Channel. And he might be I don’t know what he’s doing these days and i’d like to keep it that way. For starters, the Scooge comics, while barely published in the US these days, are still popular globally and have appealed to kids and adults for generations and are mostly focused on him, with the kids in a supporting role and Ducktales, you know the thing your directly remaking here, was also mostly about him with the triplets supporting, if a bit less than the comics. Most of the Disney Afternoon was about adult characters, with any kids in side roles in the main cast. And it comes off entirely hypocritical of them to say this when the MCU is easily marvel’s biggest cash cow at the moment, and marvel properties have appealed to both kids and adults, like the duck comics, for decades. And if it’s because the marvel cartoons weren’t doing well , I’ll let you in on a little secret: Those didn’t do well because they looked bland and from what I’ve seen of them felt kind of bland, though I haven’t seen enough to fully judge. Kids LIKE adult characters as much as kid characters, and also like teen characters despite not being teens. Focusing on either is valid and while I LIKED Disney’s youth starring shows I also want another X-Men cartoon before I turn 50, and I bet kids would like that too, with the last one only failing because you bailed on it because you were throwing a hissy fit over fox having the movie rights, and do not get me started on that. Point is this argument is horse shit and should stay in the stables. 

So yeah I do think this episode came too soon and it’s placement effected it at the time and as such it dosen’t have the best rep with the fandom aside from the Lena bits and that includes me. The fact it was very early in the series and the characterizations hadn’t yet sunk in really hurt this episode in places but is it really that bad? Join me under the cut to find out

We open at the movies! Which scrooge apparently hasn’t been too since the 1930′s or seen any on video despite Della existing and being really stubborn. 

A rant for another episode. But the kids just got out of a Mole Monster movie, along with Lena, Beakly and Launchpad. Their reactions are as follows: Lena, Webby and Dewey really enjoyed it, Huey found it unrealistic... says the boy whose uncle fought a dragon made of gold a month or two back but we’ll get to that, and Louie was bored and felt it didn’t have enough of the ultra violence, kids these days it’s not about the gore it’s about the tension. And Beakly.. is just pissed Lena tricked them into seeing this and said it was educational. And the more I think about it the more this sounds like BEAKLYS fault than Lena’s. BEAKLY is the one who likely bought the tickets, who saw it was likely an r or pg-13 and who as we’ve seen HAS A PHONE, and ulnike scrooge probably isn’t so stingy she wouldn’t spring for a smart phone, so she could’ve just googled it, or whatever bird related pun is in this version.. gandered it.. yeah let’s go with that, gandered it, and SEEEN it wasn’t appropriate or walked htem out of the theater and ate the cost if she was that bothered by it. Sitting through a Horror Movie you didn’t research, didn’t pull the kids out of and dind’t bother to even check the poster for or use basic common sense is YOUR fault. And this could’ve worked fine, had Lena talk the kids into begging for it or had launchpad take them and have Beakly find out after, having driven to pick them up as she didn’t trust launchpad to take them home. Instead it makes the former super spy look REALLY stupid and feels really out of character for a SPY to not to do research. And it wasn’t like they decided on this later, Bentina being a spy was part of the character’s backstory from day one and its made clear as early as episode 2 in both airing orders. This is just lazy writing to justify the episode and I expect better from this crew. 

But an argument errupts between Huey and Webby over the Terra-Firmians, a hidden race of rock people living in Duckburg’s discontinued sewer system, allegedlys. So Lena suggest simply going down which gets a disapproving look from Beakly, despite you know this being their bread and butter, and the fact that if she had a problem with Scrooge not being involved.. she could just call him. Exploring fabled rock people is something he’d be into. I mean there’s a low profit margin but it also costs him almost nothing to walk to the theater or have launchpad swing around and pick him up. Just gas which given how much he pays for jet fuel isn’t a big ask. But Beakly soon gets distracted by Launchpad whose convinced the film is real and is attacking the poster a grim sign of things to come as while Beakly annoyed me in this one on rewatch, especially after realizing the above... Launchpad annoyed me both times and for VERY good reason we’ll get into. This provides a distraction and allows the trio to escape. Cue titles. 

After the title sequence, our heroes head deeper underground, there’s too much panic in this town... I mean props to Donald for trying something new but he really needs to rethink his cologne choices. Sex Panther is just.. not a good smell on.. anyone. 

So our heroes journey through the depths of the subway system, and we find out part of why Huey’s so skeptical, as he finds anything that isn’t in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to not exist, though the cracks in this already show as he’s added anything that does. We’ll get back to this later but as you can tell the basic dynamic for 24 minutes is Webby being a wholehearted True Believer and Huey being a Skeptical Sally. And Lena is just sorta “Eh gives me an excuse for shenanigans” about it. We also get a peak into webby’s mind as we see her notes .. which really just come off as Terra-Firmian fanfiction involving a war of succession between two sides, the terra’s and the firmies, something based on previous media, and also some doodles of a fictional candy called webby-dings and herself as a superhero, both things I want to see. 

But yeah the first third of the episode is pretty simple, just them journeying, the occasional shift in the firmament, and it’s not bad, and there are a few great bits: Huey nerds out about rocks, and finds them way more interesting than a possible rock monster.

Which leads to the best gag of the episode as when Huey tries to pick up a big sample Webby, annoyed at his hyperfixation on the JWG, asks him to ask his book for help.. which he does by reading it and actually manages to pick the large rock up. This is halted though when Lena screams.. though she really just did it to draw them to an abandoned subway car full of glomgold posters for glomgold products because of course a failed subway project has his name plastered over it. You can’t spell glomgold without failure.. the failure is silent. Glomgold is not. 

The fun is interuptted though by a livid Beakly who had realized they were missing in an earlier scene, after telling the Manager that McDuck Industries would pay for the poster.. and then found out Launchpad also destroyed the toilets “They come up thorugh the sewers!”. Launchpad that’s CHUDS, Ninja Turtles and Rats who raised Ninja Turtles like their own sons, mole people dig or use old mineshafts. It’s basic mole science. Also Beakly really shouldn’t sweat it, I just assumed the city has had a runnig bill witht he company for “McDuck Family and Employee Related Accidents, Mayhem and Shenanigans”. I mean he’s had Gyro on his payroll for at least a decade and a half by the series start, Gyro has leveled whole sections of city in an afternoon more than most giant monsters. Of which several have destroyed Duckburg. It got better. 

Point is she’s livid about them sneaking off with Lena pointing out their some sort of adventure family and Beakly.. saying she won’t see them again, or at least implying it hard. I’ll put a pin in this, as the train buckles and a bit of seismic, or rock men, activity means their stuck. So they divide into teams: Beakly will go try and unhook the train car from the busted cars so they can ride out, Launchpad will go try and fix it, and we get this lovely exxchange as a result

Launchpad: Cool never crashed a train before Beakly: Can’t you try driving it without crashing it? Launchpad: Wha? 

His face in that scene is priceless. He takes Dewey along. More on that in a second. Webby, Huey and Louie are told to stay put with Beakly only bringing Lena along because she dosen’t trust her. So since we have three split plots for a second... let’s split up gang, starting with the most aggrivating, middling with what you all came here for and why this is part of the retrsopective, and ending with the plot that directly heads into the final part of the episode. 

Launchpad and Dewey: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay starting with the most infamous plot and easily the worst part of this episode, probably the worst plot in any Ducktales 2017 episode. That’s not hyperbole it’s really that bad and really pissed people off, as fans of the original launchpad felt they made him overly stupid. This is where the airing order’s a problem as putting an episode with a subplot where one of your characters is obnoxiously dumb right up front means they assume this is his charcter and not just one poorly written chapter in a very dumb but very loveable characters life, likely because the writers hadn’t figured out how to properly scale his stupidity with comptience. 

So as a result we get a good 3-4 mintutes if not agonizingly more of Launchpad assuming something he saw in a fucking movie film was real. That.. that’s his actual plot. Need I remind you, he’s in his late 20′s early 30′s. He’s not much older than me. While other episodes have him as dim this one claims he CAN’T TELL FACT FROM FICTION. 

There are lines you have to keep with your characters to keep the audience from hating them. They crossed it about 80 times with this plot and make Launchpad into a gibbering dunderhead who can’t do anything right versus a regular dunderhead whose good at one or two things and loveable enough for us to like him and not care about his numerous safey violations and child endagerment charges. Thankfully this is the ONLY episode that gets this bad and they clearly learned from this, but it dosen’t make it any less of a tough sit. 

Dewey spends most of the subplot with a look on his face that just screams that he’s as done with this bullshit as we are, as Launchpad assumes he’s a mole person and brought along a pipe to presumibly bludgeon him, because wanting to cave his best friends skull in over stupidity is a GREAT look> Thankfuly he does not. And when the lights come back on Launchpad.. assumes he’s a monster because of bright light, GAH, and locks him out before they end up outside and the plto resolves itself by Dewey pointing out by Launchpad’s utterly baffling logic that he could be a mole monster, so Launchpad.. assumes he is. 

The subplot’s later buttoned up as he claims “I love being a mole monster”, again diffrent subteranian creature launchpad, she says he’s not and my suffering is thankfully at an end. This plot just sucks, it’s bad, overly stupid and dosen’t work with an adult character. Someone like say Ed from Ed, Edd N Eddy, or someone who belivies in weird conspiracy stuff like Dale Gribble or Stan Pines. with either of them this plot would’ve been fucking great. I could buy it from Dale and it just comes off as his normal paranoid weirdness. With Launchpad it comes off like he seriously needs help because the episode frames it as if he can’t tell ficton from reality, and his splotlight episode later would directly contridct this and make this episode even more aggrivating, as he’s a fan of Darkwing Duck, and KNOWS it’s acted out by an actor, so why wouldn’t he get this? It’s just....

It sucks, it sucks and I thankfully get to move on to a better subplot

Beakly and Lena: What You Are in the Dark

Beakly tells Lena she’ll never see Webby again after this.. then chastises her when she won’t help despite you know having just said she’s going to force their friendship apart, which Lena points out. She then gets mad at Lena making a sarcastic comment at her. Okay she’s lived with Louie for at least a week in airing order and a month or two in actual order. She has to be used to this by now. She’s insolent.. because you show her no respect, blame her for something that while sure she talked you into, you should’ve known better, and top it off by saying you want to keep her from the kids because they have bright futures and come from good familes and asks who rasied her and her face.. well.

Yeah wheras Launchpad and Huey, more on that in a second, were hurt by this being some of their earliest big roles, Bentina wasn’t.. until later when we found out just HOW bad Magica is to Lena and how much she dosen’t care about her other than as a tool to use. At this point we didn’t know just how much Lena was playing webby, how much she was only manipulating her, and even with her heroic act here we didn’t know if she only saw Webby as her way to break free. The next episode makes it clear she dosen’t and genuinely does care, 100%, so in hindsight it makes Bentina come off as ghoulsih for horribly asssuming about a girl she dosen’t know, and even if she did know about Magica wouldn’t know the full story, just like us, and then BERATING her after already saying she’s going to rip her away from Webby, which itself is PRETTY bad as she’s the only friend the girl has and sh’es doing so on... talking them into a horror movie, which as I outlined was more Bentina’s fault than Lena’s, and leading the kids into a dangerous place whicha gain, Lena pointed out is something she lets Scrooge do. And trust me i know that she actually knows Scrooge, and we later find out, as we’ll cover next month, that she isn’t ware HOW dangerous things are with Scrooge. It dosen’t change the fact she knows they do dangerous stuff to a point and that Lena may just be acting out. It also dosen’t change the fact she drove three children, yes including launchpad, down here with her instead of sending them home with Launchpad.. granted that option isn’t the safest but it’s safer than taking her with them thena cting like it’s ALL lena’s fault when three of the children, again including launchpad, are down there because of HER. Not Lena, HER. I’m harder on her because she’s older, wiser and was “raised properly” apparently. Though given the way she treats a random teen off the street she again knows nothing about and dind’t bother to ask... it begs the question. 

IT’s a good question. I could see the classism coming from being raised in 40′s and 50′s britain, judging by the timeline.. but even then she’s seen the world, and while her nature is supscious, the classit bullshit makes no sense after presumibly working with, and later spymastering for, various agents of various backgrounds. How has she not dropped this in decades. Scrooge very clearly dropped the racisim and homophobia of his time, so it still stands  on her for not dropping this. And Lena’s hurt shows under hte mask for the first time, that beneath the snark and secrecy.. is just an abused teenager with nowhere else to go and no way out being bullied by an older woman whose cutting off the only light at the end of the tunnel nto for good reason but out of classist, overprotective mallice.  My issues, which to be fair probably were intentional in the episode but sitll are a bit overblown, aside we do get an absoluttley tremendous moment later as a car falls on top of Beakly.. and Magica, speaking once more urges Lena to leave her, let her die and let their plans progress. And while that iself is.. dumb, what if someone finds her or her corpse later, especially since Scrooge would likely perosnally want to retrive the body to give her a proper burial as she’s his only friend at this point, or the rest of the family questoin the story?, it fits Magica’s lack of foresight we see throughout the season. But Lena... saves her. While she later gives an explination, and a valid one at that, it’s clear from her expressoin, her actoins and how she does it... that this is her. Part of it is defiance, as she glares at Magica before doing it, her own stubborn nature mixed with her hatred of her “aunt”, meaning Magica just made it all too easy for her to do this. But the real reason is clear: It’s the right thing to do. While pissing off her aunt and getting away with it is the cherry on top.. the real reason is that unlike Magica.. Lena is not a killer, not a monster, and not a heartless vacum ofa person. Even if she doesn’t like Beakly, for good reason.. she can’t, she WON’T leave her to die and leave Webby an orphan again. She loves Webby too much to do that to her and while she may deny it.. she’s too good a person to leave someone to die for something so petty. Even if she never sees webby again and the plans ruined. It’s better than the weight of knowing she let someone who wasn’t trying to harm her and whose actions, while terrible, were out of misguided protection of her granddaughter, die like this. She saves her. And as we’ll see it pays off.. but before that. 

Huey, Webby and Louie: Into the Unknown This plot’s a bit shorter, as Webby and Huey continue their argument, with Louie eventually making it clear, and not even hiding it when directly asked by Huey, that he’s playing both sides with a delighted expression on his face as the movie was boring but this, this is interesting. Which it is. But it’s interupted by dings on the roof and while Huey assumes i’ts just a regular rock, it moves while their not lookiung.. and soon red eyed, horrifying beasts look out at them and the kids flee back to the car. This dosen’t pan out as the car starts to shake and is clearly going to collapse.. and while Webby and Louie are prepared to flee, rock monsters or no, Huey, in an utterly heart shattering image.. stays in place, terrified of moving. 

This is where this plot goes from mildly aggrivating, as Huey’s Skeptic shenanigans can get on the nerves.. to BRILLIANT. See at the time this was more annoying because it was assumed the skepticsim would be a part of Huey’s character and we’d get more episodes of him being annoying only to be proven wrong, as he semeingly dosen’t learn his lesson at this point, looging the terrafrimians in the guide book. But on rewatch.. this plot is amazing.  For starters the plot subtly introduced the defening characteristic of Huey’s personality, one that’s become more prounounced in Season 3: His need for Order. He needs things to make sense: He solves stuff because he likes there to be order in the world and something he can understand, he can put in a box in his head. Like a lot of neurotypical people, myself included, he struggles horribly when the clearly defined boxes of his life and things he undestand have wrinkles or complexities he can’t get. I for instnace easily got it when I was introduced to the concept of trans people or being non binary.. they just make sense in hindsight: given how our brains are messya nd complicated it makes sense some people would be born in the wrong ones, and tht with all the science and medicine we have to correct that, should be allowed to transition if they so choose. It makes equal sense that some people just don’t have a gender or are gender fluid, being both or neither. Despite struggling with non binary prounouns due to force of habit.. I get the concept with no real difficulty. But when it comes to accepting I don’t have to apologize for everything and that everyone is not angry or that anger is natural and people sometimes get mad and you can’t and shouldnt’ fix it.. it’s something I STRUGGLE with even knowing it’s not right, because my brain is just wired that way. 

That’s how Huey’s struggle comes off here.. he reveals he’s willing to stay and die.. because he’s SO scared of the unknown, that the idea of dying from something he at least knows what it is versus something he dosen’t.., so paralizyed by his own brain he can’t figure out the obvious.. it takes Webby reaching out to him figuratively and literally, to show him that sometimes you have to face the unknown. The unknown is fucking terrifying.. but it can be good and it’s better than sitting there, scared and unable to move. You have to try, to grow and take that risk that things may not go well to really LIVE. 

So he does.. and they reunite with the rest of the group.. and soon find the terrafirmains.. who as it turns out once we get some light on them... are actually just goofy looking,  brightly colored, each one matching one of the kids, kids themselves, and Huey reaches out and touches one, which by ET logic means their friends now, and the terrafirmians help them get out. And this lesson sticks. While sure Huey catalogues it and it seems it didn’t.. he’s never this skeptical again. This douchey skepticsim was only for one episode, his fear of the uknown replcaed with boundless curosity and from here on he’s CURIOUS about new stuff as long as it’s not trying to kill him. He loves taking in new experinces, maybe not to webby levels but he does actually try them and study them instead of just fearing them. 

Before we wrap things up, obviously we need to talk about the JWG not having entries on a lot of stuff. This would be corrected next season as it returns to being a big book of everything, but dosen’t completely contridct this as Timephoon! shows there’s stillcgaps.. which i’m fine with. While it knowing EVERYTHING was fine for the original series here, with things being slightly more groudned, it’d just be an obvious plothole if Huey didn’t use it every single time they ran into something and that’d get boring. Instead it’s simply that it dosen’t know everything, and really in the comics at times it didn’t and the triplets found out new things. It knew almost everything mind you, but having some gaps for dramatic tnesion is fine with me and Seasons 2 and 3 decided on that instead of just having it being a scouting manual which wa sfor the best. And even by later in the season hit has guides to getting a small buisness loan, so they already course corrected. 

So everything’s wrapped up and while Magica berates Lena for disobeying her.. Beakly interputps, thankfully not seeing magica and admits she was wrong and invites Lena for pancakes, even taking a crack about if their actually pancakes or english muffins with syrup, which sounds like my own living hell, in stride, having clearly grown. And Lena explains to Magica that this was the better approach: now she’s got the in theyw anted, and is above suspcison for now. Still not so much that an obvious act won’t be detected but enough that she dosen’t ahve to work actively around her anymore. Magica scoffs.. and while part of it is probably rage.. part of it is deep down both of them know she did it out of defiance.. and only Lena knows that she did it for the right reasons... she just dosen’t get why. She probably justifies it as playing the long game.. but deep down she knows something’s changing about her.. and she’s not sure if that’s a godo thing or not. 

Final Thoughts: This episode is as you can tell a mixed bag. It’s 2/3 of a good episode, with the Lena plot, my issues aside, being excellent and the Terra-Firmian plot likewise fun, even if Huey can get grating the payoff is worth it, and the jokes are really high quality. It’s just bogged down by that fucking launchpad plot that just crushed my soul in it’s palms every time it came back. I went on at length why i hated that one but boy oh boy was the hate of that subplot warranted and I stand by calling it the worst plot of the series. It is: it’s not funny, it makes no goddamn sense, and it drags down what’s otherwise a pretty solid epsiode.

Next Time on Lena: Jaws the shark, lurking in the dark, in the depths of the bin one day of a lark decides to get rowdy, get real violent takes a vacay out to Duckburg er.. Island.. also Scrooge faces his greatest Nemesis.. a PR Tour to clean up his image after an unfortunate giant Beanstalk Incident. Be there and be hip to be square. 

Next Time on This Blog: I Tackle a DCOM for the first time for another commissioned review as we take a look at racisim, specifically Apartheid and breaking indoctrination, with The Color of Friendship. See you next Rainbow.