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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

2K notes · View notes

eremiie · 4 years ago

Note

hi PLEASE i neee stoner eren amd stoner reader😩

high off of you

❥ 8k words | nsfw | eren x reader

❥ you’re dragged to a smoke session by your roommate, and you actually enjoy yourself— maybe a little more than you should have; and eren jaeger is to blame.

❥ content: choking, lowkey breeding kink ish, praise kink, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, drugs (weed)

content.

content is how you were feeling.

you had just gotten done with your shower, your covers were finally draped over your almost bare legs, your laptop was sat in your lap and you had put your hair up to get it out of the way. you were relaxed, you were calm, and you had decided you were gonna finish off your night with an episode of your favorite show, no matter how many times you had saw it.

"c'mon, we're going to get high."

your peaceful vibe was interrupted, and in the most abrupt manner your roommate could muster; he swung the door open not even bothering to knock, leaned against the doorframe and let his eyes survey your slightly mess room before landing on you and giving you the most goofy grin.

"connie, what the fuck?" you frowned and went to pause your show only to realize you hadn't even started it. with a sigh you looked back up at connie with clear irritation written across your face.

"what? don't you want to get high?"

"i just got out of the shower, i'm in bed now," you moved your laptop and threw the covers off of your legs and pointed to your shorts. "i have pajamas on and i was about to watch my show, no i don't want to get high right now." wasn't that the obvious? you couldn't lie, the offer was tempting since you weren't the one paying, and it gave you the opportunity to see your friends again, but the getting ready process had made you shove the offer down.

as if on cue connie seemed to read your mind. "you don't have to get cute or anything. it's literally just our regular smoke circle. just throw on a jacket and let's go."

you groaned and leaned your head back letting your arm drape over your eyes. "didn't we just come from sasha's house earlier this week? who the hell is supplying y'all this fast?" you tried to come up with an excuse to stay home, but connie was clearly one step ahead of you.

"it's not sasha's house it's eren's." the stupid sly grin on his face appeared and he leaned further into your room already knowing he had you trapped. he knew, much like the rest of the friend group about the undying tension between you and eren, but nobody could pinpoint exactly what it was. it wasn't that the two of you necessarily liked each other but you were... friendlier than friendly best friends. eren and you would flirt with each other more often than not and were very hands on. not to mention how excited you'd get when you got to see him, and vice versa.

connie didn't even give you the chance to respond to that comment, your answer was evident just by the way your attention spiked at the mention of eren's name, and the way your body stiffened in the slightest. he shut the door to wait for you and couldn't help but laugh at your feeble attempt of getting out of a session with your circle.

you lost, and you were slightly upset. any other words in your defense were stuck down your throat, and connie was already long down the hall. the only thing you were able to mention was a loud, "and knock next time, dumbass!" before you did as he said, grabbing your jacket and slipping out the door with connie.

that's how you handed up where you were now, at eren's shared apartment with mikasa and armin, although mikasa's car was missing from the parking lot.

"i love the outfit. it's giving me very much... hobo." connie looked you up and down stifling a laugh while the two of you waited at the door after the first ring.

you followed his eyes looking yourself up and down as well. you did look a little silly, black crew socks with crocs over top. you didn't even take it upon yourself to zip up your jacket all the way, the black fabric draping off your shoulder on one side revealing your shoulder only adorned by a single white strap to your cropped tank top. of course the jacket was a little big, covering your sleep shorts slightly. you weren't even sure if the jacket was yours.

"shut the fuck up." you kicked connie with your croc and he hissed, grabbing his shin before being a fool and hopping towards the door some more, spamming the doorbell.

"help! i'm getting abused!" and in that moment you wondered how you managed to share an apartment with the clown.

connie's ringing only stopped when the door flew open, sasha's figure standing there with a small smile. "hey!" her tone was cheery and loud as she grabbed connie's hand pulling him into a dramatic hug before reaching a hand out to you and pulling you into one too. "i missed you guys!"

"sasha we saw you earlier this week." you forced yourself out of her grip with an apologetic smile just in case your gesture came off as rude. connie nodded in agreement and stepped aside already heading towards eren's room. i mean seriously, wouldn't it have made more sense for you not to come if he was that eager to smoke? they could've had more rounds!

"that doesn't mean i couldn't miss you." her hand embraced yours once more and she slammed the door shut, locking it and leading you to the door opened ajar on the other end of the hallway, of course eren's as he always had those red led lights bleeding from underneath the doorway. "connie told me you didn't want to come also, so this is a surprise."

you rolled your eyes. "so he knew i didn't want to come and still asked?"

"well it was worth a shot; and look where it landed you, you're about to be faded." and she wasn't wrong. she finally let go of your hand and opened the door, the bright LEDS hitting you straight on making you squint for a second before your eyes surveyed the room. jean was already chatting with connie on the futon while eren was sat on his bed with a tray in his lap, rolling the blunt.

what you didn't see was the glance he gave you when you first started scanning the room, immediately trying to look focused on rolling the blunt while attempting to hide his boyish grin. you likewise, you bit the inside of your cheeks to stop from smiling at the sight of the pretty boy; his brown locks pulled back into the sloppiest ponytail, and the hairs in the back of his head skimming the black top he wore.

"so she actually came?" jean voiced looking over to you and making his way over to you from his position on the futon to embrace you in a side hug.

"jean boy," you used his nickname to mock him before returning his hug causing him to grimace at you and pull his arm back. you started to laugh and rolled your eyes at his dramatic actions once more. "yes, yes i did come."

"doesn't she look stupid?" connie looked up from his phone at you and jean giggling under his breath. jean took in your appearance and tried not to laugh, a small smirk on his face that was wiped off when you slapped his chest then flipped connie off.

"shut your bald ass up, connie." you retorted.

"i'm growing hair, i keep telling you that!" and the whole room burst into laughter, sasha doubling over because there still wasn't a trace of growth on his head.

"connie, you have no room to talk you are actually stupid." sasha added before going over to sit with the boy after grabbing a bag of chips from the desk next to the open door.

you shut the door behind you and continued to stand awkwardly until eren spoke, "you're laughing but as soon as she takes that jacket off you're gonna try to jump on her, kirchstein." he said with a raise of his eyebrow before letting his eyes wander over your frame.

now you were really trying to hide your smile, and you cursed yourself when one graced your face anyways. "eren," you dragged out his name walking over to him on his bed before plopping yourself down and resting your head on his shoulder. "get me away from these idiots." you faked a sigh before eren chuckled and gave you a side hug much like jean’s before continuing to roll his blunt.

"damn jaeger, you were so quiet i forgot you were here." connie said, not looking up from his phone that sasha peered over as well.

"and stop making slick jokes and hurry up with the blunt." jean huffed scooting off the futon and resting his head on his palm. "i'm tryna smoke."

you watched eren look down at jean with a negative expression before continuing to roll, and you watched intently loving the way he looked while he did it. the way he let his tongue slide over the gutted blunt was enticing and you looked from your position on his shoulder.

he let his eyes drift over to you without moving his head and then he placed the blunt on the tray grabbing the grinder and holding it out in front of you. "you wanna grind it for me?" he asked with a small smile and it caught you off guard. you took a minute to process what he said before you grabbed the grinder and let it come apart in two.

"i mean, i guess." he slid the tray over to your lap and did that chuckle again.

"do you even know how? i bet you've always had someone roll for you, huh?"

you couldn't help but break out into another smile, this one out of slight embarrassment before you bumped his shoulder playfully and setting down the grinder on the tray. "bye... i've only rolled once."

"she doesn't know how, and plus just earlier she asked me who our supplier was. even sasha knows that!" connie looked over and you met his eyes with a glare, a deadpanned expression crossing your face and the group broke into laughter again besides you.

"connie i'm gonna fuck you up." you muttered. your mood shifted once more though when eren began placing the weed into the grinder and closed the lid handing it to you.

"work some magic, babe." you were really trying not to show how excited you were, butterflies flapping their wings and flapping them hard in your stomach, especially at the nickname. you began twisting the small container and eren's calloused hands stopped yours from grinding too much. "that's good, that's good." he took it from your hands then pulled the tray over. "i got it from here."

"yeah cause she's gonna fuck it up." jean laughed and connie joined in his eccentric laugh filling the air as well causing you to groan.

"can y'all shut up? damn. you can't roll either jean."

ooohh's from connie and sasha bounced around the room and jean looked up at you amusement dancing in his eyes. "better than you."

"at least i look good while doing it." you sassed playfully while moving invisible hair behind you ear. you could've sworn eren nodded his head from next to you, and those dumb butterflies in your stomach began moving again.

"got that right." jean snapped back just as quick a flirtatious tone to his voice that caught you off guard and you raised an eyebrow at the sudden demeanor. eren looked up for a split second before glancing at you again, his eyebrows furrowed in... confusion maybe?

"weren't you just making fun of me earlier?"

"chill, we were just playing around, girl." jean responded with a shit eating grin before forming a heart with his hand and pouting at you.

"you better stop for eren gets on your ass, you know that's his girl." connie scrunched up his nose then looks towards you and eren for a reaction that he succeeded in getting. both you and eren looking up at him; eren's eyes holding more of a curious stare and yours more threatening. eren continued sealing the blunt soon after seemingly unfazed by connie's comment.

sasha gasped and widened her eyes at you. "stop! you know they don't date." she winked at you and wiggled her eyebrows and you pretended not to see her.

"yeah, they don't even date." jean added on, wondering how the conversation flipped from you to your relationship with eren so fast. it was annoying to him in the least, the group constantly commented on how you and eren should just get together and were clearly not just best friends, but the two of you seemed to haven't taken action yet.

"might as well." connie shrugged his shoulder. "anyways, jaeger finished rolling, let's get high." connie sat up, sasha lifting her head off of his arm as he did so and clasped her hands clearly ready to hit the blunt much like everyone else.

"you want the first hit?" eren rolled the blunt between his fingertips while letting the flame singe the end looking at you with those jaded green eyes, flecks of blue dashing across them in a way that made your heart melt.

"she gets the first hit too?" connie exclaimed staring at you and eren with a bored look on his face.

"who rolled the blunt?" eren asked raising an eyebrow at connie before letting his tongue run over his bottom lip and lifting the blunt from the lighter to watch the smoke float into the air, and ugh did he look good. when connie didn't answer he answered for him, "i rolled it, i choose who goes first."

"plus shes low key a newbie, this is what? her third session with us?" sasha chimed in grabbing the pillow that connie was laying on previous and rolling onto her stomach on the floor in front of the futon.

you pursed your lips before grabbing the blunt from eren, not even noticing that his arm was placed behind you until he rubbed your side in slight encouragement, his warm smile aimed at you. you put the brown wrap to your lips and inhaled the smoke, the gas irritating your airway causing you to let out a cough you tried to hold back.

eren began to laugh at you as you broke out into a fit of coughs, your throat attempting to clear up for you, and the worse the coughs got the more of your friends started to laugh, the only thing you could do was stick your middle finger up while sasha crawled to the same desk near the door to grab you her water bottle.

"i'm crying!" sasha laughed as she rolled the bottle over to the foot of eren's bed. eren's laughs died down too after he hit the blunt and then bending down to pick it up for you, untwisting the cap and passing the drug towards connie.

"woah, chill." he said before blowing the smoke from his mouth in your face causing you to suppress more coughs and fan it away. he tilted the water bottle to your lips and you let it swim down your throat, relishing in the sweet gesture from the boy next to you.

"eren," you mumbled his name taking the water bottle from his hand. you didn't get time to finish your sentence before his door opened revealing armin standing there in his pajama pants and sweatshirt.

all gazes turned towards him as he scanned eren's room growing accustomed to the new faces and scenery. "hi." he mumbled rubbing his eyes. "when did you guys get here?"

"did you just wake up?" eren asked slight concern lacing his face.

"yeah... i heard laughing. don't forget we share a wall." armin gestured towards the wall in which eren's futon laid against.

"i didn't even know you were here. i didn't see mikasa's car so i thought both of y'all just dipped." connie passed the blunt to sasha and fanned the air of the smoke letting the rest disperse after speaking.

"mikasa is at the library. she can't stand the smell of smoke and how loud you all are. i don't blame her." armin chuckled before walking over towards sasha who hit the blunt and gave it to armin's outstretched hand.

"armin you smoke?" you couldn't help but ask, the last two smoke sessions you went to with connie, armin wasn't there. as a matter of fact you never saw much of him because he excelled above you by some and the two of you didn't share any classes, yet you definitely knew him through eren.

"everybody hear smokes except for you." sasha said hoping her words would coerce you to come to join the smoke circle more indefinitely, not just pass by a few times here and there.

armin let the smoke inhale his lungs then removed the blunt from his soft lips. "i smoke with eren sometimes. not usually with all of you guys but... sometimes?" his response came more like a question than an answer as he bent down to give the blunt to jean.

"let armin hit it a couple times." eren used his head to motion the blunt in jean's hand to armin and armin nodded in agreement.

"yeah, i'm about to go back to my room anyways." armin took the blunt back holding it between his lips while leaning against the doorframe.

"why aren't you staying?" sasha pondered sitting up and cradling her pillow to her chest. armin took one last hit then walked over passing it to you which you accepted with a kind nod.

"i should be studying with mikasa but i fell asleep. i have a test tomorrow, eren does too."

"so eren's here getting high and he has a test tomorrow?" you give eren a playful disappointed glance that lasted a little longer than it should've. he met your eyes and then let his drop down to your lips before breaking out into a smile and leaning forward, burying his head into your neck. his chain dangled almost touching your lap and you felt the strands of his hair brush against your chin causing you to twitch at the tickling feel while inhaling the smoke from the blunt. when your hand dropped down to your lap he replaced your hand with his and put the wrap in his mouth while nuzzling into you.

"mikasa made me study with her for like a week straight, i'll be fine." he whined. you let a sigh leave you and found yourself stroking the hair on eren's nape while fiddling with the clasp of his gold chain adorning his neck. the smell of his cologne was mixing in with the weed, but yet that woody pine still overpowered the plant and you couldn't help but rest your head on top of his in efforts to get closer to the source of the fragrance.

"i still don't understand why the two of you haven't gotten together." armin announced eyes flickering back and forth between you and his roommate.

sasha flailed her arms out and her expression was relieved, although her eyes went wide and her eyebrows went up, "that's what i been trying to say! they already act like they date." armin nodded his head agreeing with her.

"we don't like each other, we're just friends i don't know why you all say that." you said a little too quickly, eren pulling away from your neck finally and giving you a once-over. you missed the warmth he brought but then turned your head back towards armin.

"yeah, yeah." he giggled rolling his eyes. "okay well goodnight." eren stood up and passed the blunt to armin who took one last hit then handed it back to sasha, then the rest of the room murmured a goodnight to the blonde relaxing in silence for a minute after his leave.

eren took it upon himself to scoot back on his bed until his back was hitting the wall once he sat back down, using his hand to beckon you to follow him. "c'mere." and you obliged until you were next to him, shoulders touching.

jean looked over to connie and sasha, connie still scrolling through his phone aimlessly giggling at his home screen for whatever reason and sasha looking up at the ceiling on her back now, bag of chips on top of her stomach as she got lost in her thoughts.

"remember when we used to like each other?" jean took it upon himself to abruptly reminisce on the past in the presence of his friends. he took a hit of the blunt thats length was beginning to falter, it on the verge of becoming a roach. he leaned over and passed it on to you, eyes trained on yours, completely ignoring eren's gaze

you furrowed yourself eyebrows trying to recall the time once you figured jean was talking to you, his stare telling, which you actually could. "...oh yeah, last year. i guess i did."

eren pulled one of your legs overtop of his and let his hand settle onto your thigh.

sasha's head perked up at the sudden conversation. "oh my gosh... you did like jean for a little bit. you used to gush over him-"

"sasha! i know, i know, but that was last year."

"i wonder why we didn't get together if we both liked each other, hm." jean looked upwards and tapped his chin in almost a mocking manner. "we used to hang out a lot actually now that i think about it, me, you, sasha and connie."

connie let out another burst of laughter and let his phone to drop to his chest. "yeah, remember that one time we got kicked out of the library because sasha got caught eating like four times and she wouldn't stop after that lady told her to?"

you chortled and sasha's mouth dropped open. "i don't even remember that, i thought you got kicked out because you wouldn't stop fucking laughing and that same lady told you to shut up like seven times!" and more laughter erupted from the ones who were there that day.

you passed the blunt to eren for the umpteenth time watching him take a quick drag then beckon to sasha to grab it as he didn't want to get up. "you both got kicked out, those were two different days." you shook your head at your friends antics and looked up at eren. "they're so dumb."

eren returned your stare and only then did you notice the way his eyes were half lidded, you were sure red was rimming them even though you couldn't really tell because of the red emitting from the lights in the room. he squinted at you and scrunched up his nose. "you look high." he ignored your last sentence wanting to stray away from the conversation he was barely apart of.

"i am high, stupid."

a small 'hmph' came from the back of his throat and it happened again, his eyes dropping to your lips causing him to lick his before he brought those same eyes back up to yours. you could've kept getting lost in them if you didn't jolt at the sound of jean clearing his throat and holding the blunt out to you.

you leaned over to grab it once more. "careful, it's a roach. don't burn yourself." he warned you, so you pinched it between your pointer finger and thumb and started to put it up to your lips but eren grabbed your wrist.

"wanna try something?" he asked you, plucking the faltering blunt from your hands and using the lighter beside him to fire it up a bit more. "wanna shotgun it?"

you had to trace back where you hear those words again... like a shotgun when you get to sit in the passengers seat? no, that wasn't it... you couldn't recall, but by the way sasha widened her eyes for the several time that night, the way connie's mouth dropped into an 'O', and the way jean's features were exasperated, him looking down to the bright light of his screen, you could only wonder eren's intentions.

he didn't even wait for a response from you, pulling through with his actions anyways. "inhale slowly, okay?" he inhaled as much smoke from the blunt storing it in his cheeks, the skin expanding from the inside and then leaned over his face mere inches from yours. he grabbed your chin with his fingers and you opened your mouth slightly watching as he opened his and let the smoke pour out of his tinted lips. you followed his instructions; inhaling very slowly hoping the moment could last a little longer, both of you staring at the transition of the smoke from one mouth to the other.

eren glanced to the side for a second to see if the others were watching, mainly searching for one pair of eyes. you saw his upper lip curl upwards slightly and you inched forward a little more subconsciously. eren watched the smoke grow thinner and felt the way your hands grabbed at his shirt tightly. he watched your eyes flutter and felt your noses brush together.

eren watched both of you lean in a little more until your lips brushed and came together, and felt the fireworks go off in both of your bodies, electric like sparks getting sent through his.

he ignored the gasps and groans of your friends and instead focused on the gasp that left your lips when they first connected with his, and the groan you elicited from him, lips meeting so fervently. he couldn't admit it until today but he wanted your lips on his so bad, your body on his so bad. he was so infatuated with you and the two of you being around each other majority of the time didn't help. he could only reminisce in the little touches and flirtatious gestures you passed back and forth on a regular day and use that to fuel his thoughts at night.

"eren," you mumbled against his lips your voice coming out like a whimper that went straight to his dick, causing him to wrap his arms around your body and pull you into his lap letting your legs swing over either side of him. eren didn't forget about the guests in the room, and as much as wanted to put on a little show in spite of jean, he pointed towards the door snapping his fingers twice.

"five dollars that they fuck?" sasha nudged connie's shoulder as they stood up and walked towards the door while she rolled up her chip bag bringing it with her. jean's figure was already halfway out the door, slamming it hard and making his way to the living room with the other two following.

"hell no, you're gonna owe me five dollars instead. i'm betting that they fuck."

"no, cause you know they're going to that's why i said the bet first, peanut head." sasha stuck her tongue out at connie and he shoved her out the door closing it softer than jean.

he kisses you even harder just basking in the feeling of your smooth lips against his slightly chapped ones, lips working in synchronization like they were made for each other and he felt so needy. his hands roamed your hips and waist, going underneath the jacket now hanging off your shoulders and feeling the bare skin of your stomach. your skin was so hot underneath his hand, just like the air surrounding the two of you.

you ground down into his lap and he hissed stilling your hips at the feeling, his mouth dropping into a circular shape, his eyebrows pointing up until a sigh left his lips once yours disconnected from his. you studied his face; his eyebrows scrunched up in lust and his lips parted slightly already missing the feeling of your lips. his nails dug into your hips as if you would run for whatever reason.

"_____... fuck." his tone was low and light and he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, his skin warm on yours. "you're so pretty,"

your face grew hotter than it already was and you leaned your forehead against his while your arms draped around his neck. "thank you,"

"i want you."

you closed your eyes and relished in his grip that became impossibly tight on your hips. "i want you too-"

"i wanna fuck you... i wanna feel you." eren's eyes fluttered shut as well, his forehead moving from yours to the crevice of your neck, planting his lips and nibbling on the thin skin. your breath hitched and your hold on his neck tightened. "i wanna have you."

"i'm right here, eren."

he held back a moan at how gentle and soft your voice was when you said those words, but you caught on and wanted to actually get one out of him. you wanted to pleasure him, you wanted him to shudder because of you, and you wanted your name to leave his lips like a song; but he wanted the same from you.

he was high, and high, and high off of you.

"lay down."

eren obliged with a smug smile, turning himself to the side while steadying you on his lap until his head hit the pillow, his flyaways bouncing to the sides of his face. "c'mere." just like earlier you listened to his words and leaned down so he could press his full lips against yours. his hands cradled either side of your face as you rutted your hips against him and swallowed his groans. his tongue swiped against your bottom lip and his teeth pulled at it as well until you gave him entrance to slip his tongue inside your mouth. you moaned at the feeling of your tongues colliding and dancing around each other even though both of your mouths were somewhat dry from the earlier smoke session, it still felt all good.

you felt fuzzy and your body felt like it was melting into his. when you pulled back for air eren gave you that same smile he gave you earlier, and you moved your kisses down his neck. once you reached the crevice between his shoulder and neck you moved his chain aside and licked at the spot, the feeling of your warm tongue against the shy skin causing eren to hold you a little tighter. you nibbled at the pretty skin and wondered if the mark you proceeded to leave would even be visible under the gleaming red lights.

"i don't know why you're trying to give me a hickey, they already know we're fucking." eren taunted letting his hands travel up your spine until they reached your neck, smoothing his fingers over it. you bit down on the mark as a way to punish eren for his comment then kissed it, finally pulling back.

"shut up."

eren let out a low laugh, and his low eyes raked over your figure with his lip trapped between his teeth. "when did you get my jacket?" he raised and eyebrow and began to remove the fabric that was resting at your elbows after unzipping it the rest of the way to reveal your top.

oh, so it was his jacket. you let out a laugh at your idiocy; you knew it was a couple sizes too big. "you look cute in it, but i want to see you now." he threw the fabric off of his bed and let his warm hands travel up until they cupped your breasts, your back arching in the least. his thumbs ran over your nipples, the feeling making you clench on top of eren. "like this," he pulled them hem of the white top up until you lifted your arms, now only left in your shorts and socks. he didn't even question the fact that you weren't wearing a bra. "shit..." he pushed you down until he could latch onto on of your breasts his tongue swirling around your nipple and you let the tingling feeling go down your spine until he popped off. eren begins to remove his shirt swiftly throwing it somewhere near his jacket.

you make work of your position on top of eren, scooting down on his legs and pecking his chest, abs, then v-line until your head was leveled with his dick. he stared down at you with a look of sultry while your hands worked to pull down his sweatpants. his hips lifted to help you out and you palmed at him with your hand watching him throw his head back when such a simple gesture relieved some of the tension he was feeling.

your mouth connected with his dick through the fabric, feeling for his tip that rested on his thigh and smirking against it when he hissed, hand flying to your ponytail that you threw up earlier that evening. "fuck, don't tease me like that baby."

"i wanna take my time with you." a pout formed on your face and your hands made their way to his waistband, the elastic material detailed with 'calvin klein' circling his hips.

eren's hands grabbed your jaw forcing you to look up at him before you could pull down his boxers. "and i want to fuck you... make you feel good."

your stomach twisted and even though you were just trying to do the same you couldn't help but rush pulling down the brunette's briefs until his cock slapped against his lower abdomen, your pussy squeezing around nothing at the view. his tip red and leaking and you knew that it'd be heavy on your tongue.

"eren..." he watched the way you eyed his aching dick, and he took it in his hands rubbing himself up and down with his hand while basking in your expression.

"hm?" you didn't even know what you wanted to say, you were just mesmerized and wasted no time prying his hands away to replace them with your own. your nimble fingertips ran over his tip to gather his precum and slide it over his length and he twitched, no, his dick twitched, and his fists clenched in anticipation for your hot mouth on him.

he decided to be courageous, to look down and try to watch you without spilling over himself too fast, i mean could you blame him if he did? your hands, the feeling of you over him, the way you would feel around him... he'd had wanted this forever and now it was in front of him.

in a way, he wanted to ruin you, not let this moment go in fear it wouldn't happen again.

so you finally attached your lips to his throbbing member, and he sucked in a breath hand trying to choose between flying to your head or to keep his hands to his self for now, but he chose the former his fist keeping a grip on your locks while you began to bob your head up and down. small sounds of pleasure left him and his eyes closed again, him trying to focus on not fucking your pretty throat so early in. he just wanted you and him to be one in every sense for as long as possible.

a mantra of 'yes,' and 'fuck,' left eren's mouth while your worked around him slicking him up and drawing lines up and down his cock with your tongue watching his reactions for a particular sensitive spot he might have; and you found it.

you went back up to his tip kissing it gently before letting the heat of your tongue slide down a vein on the side of his dick. "_____," eren moaned lifting his hips although he wasn't engulfed in your mouth. "i need it, shit, i need your mouth."

you giggled and placed his heavy dick back where he liked it for now. you felt it brush against your throat and you wondered if you could go any farther, sucking fervently and coming back up to spit on his head, adding more slick to him. when you went back down eren couldn't help it, he had felt when his tip touched your throat earlier and he most definitely wanted to feel that again.

his grip on your hair tightened when your swollen lips were wrapped around him again. he pushed your head down a little bit causing your hands to put more pressure on his thighs. eren opened his eyes to stare at you again, your mouth stretched out so lewdly over his cock, saliva starting to slide down his length from your mouth and your eyes shut as you tried to focusing on breathing. this only encouraged him further.

"i know you can take more, c'mon, go a little further." he said in a tone near a whisper while he lift his hips up more so that he could feel that ridge of your throat and hear another gag.

you pushed yourself, letting him take more control and then he felt it again; "mhm, right there baby, right there." he moaned when you whimpered, groaned and gagged, but this only pushed his animalistic fervor and he tried to push you down more but you lifted your head to catch your breath. "fuck, that feels amazing, angel."

you let the praise run over your body and went back down on him seeing how far you could go without his extra nudge then focused some more attention on his tip.

eren could feel the curdle in his lower abdomen but he tried his best to ignore it, letting your work him more. he let you swirl your tongue around him and pepper kisses down his length. he watched you try to deep throat him again and watched the tears spring from your eyes before you came back up, and all of this built up further until he tumbled over the edge spilling white heat into your mouth with a shout.

you were satisfied.

aching for him? yes, but satisfied at your job.

eren's thigh twitched and his eyes screwed shut as you didn't remove yourself from his length yet, cupping his balls and paying attention to his tip, overstimulating him, watching him shudder and gasp under you like you wanted. his dick hardened again while he contemplated whether to remove you from his length or let the over sensitivity go until he had no choice but to stop, and once again he picked the prior. "_____, please i want to be inside you now, wanna fuck you still."

you slipped off of him and crawled forward only now aware of the wet spot on your panties.

eren brought your face towards him kissing you with no hesitance despite him just being in your mouth. he pecked your lips and you smiled as he praised you. "you did so good, so good..." another peck and then his hands trailed down to the shorts you were still wearing, giving your ass a squeeze and spreading them. "but now i want to see that pretty pussy on my dick, yeah?"

you let him slide off your shorts and underwear simultaneously until your slick heat was exposed to him and to the air, feeling it brush over you before eren's hands could. your head fell to his chest feeling the cold metal of his chain underneath you, and your sore jaw parted when you felt his rough fingers gather up your wetness on them, rubbing through your slit. "eren..."

"c'mon, sit baby. we're not done yet; fuck yourself on me." he placed his lips on your the top of your head. "please?"

you picked yourself up and scoot back taking eren's dick in your hand once more. you didn't even care that he didn't have a condom, you trusted him, and you trusted the birth control you were on too.

finally you slipped down onto him and for him it felt like you were sucking him up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside of you. "so fucking tight... you're so wet." he groaned with his hands on your hips and yours on his chest steadying you. it had been awhile since you had been fucked and feeling so full again felt good, the stretch felt good and the slight pain subsided so quickly.

slowly, you guided yourself up and down eren's cock until you could find a good rhythm. your chest bounced above him and your ass clapped together, mixing in with the sound of your slick getting pushed in and out of you. "yeah, like that," eren hummed watching you focused, your pussy squeezing around him and you putting in the efforts to fuck yourself on him for both your pleasure.

eren's hands helped guide your body up and down him, and you leaned forward a little to add some more pressure to your clit. everything felt so good, the way he hit your cervix, the way your bud rubbed against his lower abdomen, you could definitely say this was one of the best fucks you had in a while. eren slapped your ass for encouragement before massaging the same area and relishing in your gasp.

"this feels good... and so much better when you're high." you sighed out while your face contorted in pleasure.

"or is my dick just that good?" eren joked looking up at you after your comment.

"shut it, eren.. and," you leaned forward some more. you were somewhat exhausted from riding already, thighs aching and body shivering from the pleasure. "i’m tired..." you admitted almost shamefully.

"you're tired?" he spoke in the way you would to a child while turning you around so you were on your side. his chest was against your back, the cold gold material resting between your shoulder blades and your ass snug against him. he lifted your leg and held it up while you guided him back inside of you until he was buried deep once again, this angle hitting even better.

"i got you," eren murmured against your neck while starting his pace slow. his hand trailed up to your neck and he gave it a light squeeze while pushing you further against him. he loved the way your ass bounced against his lower stomach when he started going faster, making him speed up his pace. "'m gonna fuck you so good."

you let out a slutty moan at his dirty talk, bringing a hand over to your mouth and shutting your eyes. he found that sweet spot inside of you and you couldn't help but react as well as he hit it over and over again. eren's hand on your throat went up to pull your hand off of your mouth. "don't try to hide that pretty voice, i want to hear you, i want them to hear you. get loud baby."

you were sure he felt the way you clenched around him, suffocating his dick as it slid in and out of you at a steady speed, and this time when you let out a moan you let him hear it, you were loud like he asked and tried to put your leg up even further so he could hit deeper.

"eren, fuck!" you were left pondering why you didn't think about this earlier, why you didn't listen to everybody who told you to get with eren. you could've been getting the best dick you'd gotten in years but both your stubborn, wavering feelings got in the way. "yes, oh my god, yes!" you cried out while eren bucked his hips up into you tightening his grip on your neck.

he turned your head towards him and engaged your lips again swallowing your cries and whimpers as he abused your pussy. your hand shakily made its way down to your clit to give you another push but he was quicker, dropping your leg and grabbing your wrist causing you to yelp. "eren, please."

"beg me." that same fervor from earlier returned. being edged on by your cries and shouts of his name, knowing how good he was fucking you and making you feel was such a turn on. "tell me how you want me, how you want my cum."

your breath was ragged and your leg was aching but you wanted it stretched out again where you could feel it deep. you were on the verge of tears. your hips rutted against eren for any boost, any pressure that you could get you to your high. the hand around your neck only gripped further as you didn't respond yet.

"c'mon, beg me baby."

"eren," his name came out broken, your back leaving his chest as your arched hard. "please fuck me, fuck me... please," he started to move again in the least, after all he was on the verge of cumming as well. "fuck, cum inside me, i want it, please." the sobs that left your mouth were so hot and of course he gave you what you wanted.

he fucked up into you after lifting your leg again and letting the fingers that were choking you slip into your mouth while he kissed and nibbled at your neck, speaking in between, praising you and marking you. his hand slipped from your mouth and he brought his wet fingers down to your clit rubbing for you until you toppled over the edge with a loud cry of his name. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your cunt gripped him like a vice over and over again as if you were trying to milk him.

"ah, fuck," the way you were squeezing around him caused him to unravel himself, white painting your walls as he filled you up with his cum, shaking himself. "_____," he heaved as the two of you tried to come down from your escapade.

your breathing was beginning to steady again but you could still feel yourself pulsing around him causing him to pull out before it became too much. "eren.." you answered back as your head relaxed against his pillow while you rested in his grip. you felt his lips against your neck again, then stopping at your shoulder blades.

you were blanking out from tiredness, only then did you realize the state you were in, hair in somewhat of a mess, a sheen of sweat covering both of your bare bodies, and marks littering your body. not to mention the cum trying to ooze out of you. you didn't even realize when eren had gotten up until he came back, wiping you clean and only assuming he did himself too. he locked his door on the way back in and slipped his boxers back on, reciprocating on you with your underwear.

you could feel the bed shift, eren crawling in bed beside you after drawing out the covers from underneath both of you and wrapping them around you and him, bringing you against him before you fell back asleep.

༄ ༄ ༄

you woke up to a hand shaking you, your eyes lazily opening.

"wake up, _____."

"eren?"

the pretty boy smiled at you and studied your features as you tried to wake up completely. you were no longer naked, or in the same position you were from last night, now wearing a plain white shirt and your underwear.

"morning, i gotta head to class soon, remember i have a test, or did i-"

"don't finish that sentence." you rolled your eyes as you sat up completely eren laughing at you. you followed his eyes, them resting on your lips like always and you took it upon yourself to lean up and kiss him, this time quite innocently, domestic almost. "sorry, morning breath, but,"

eren this time cut you off with another soft kiss, his cheeks rising from his smile as he pulled you closer to him.

you didn't want to talk it out yet, you were somewhat fine with where everything was at now, although you knew your friends and eren wouldn't want to coax a direct answer out of you sooner or later.

but you were content with the way eren kissed you just seconds ago, content with his jacket and sweats you had to wear, you were content with having to use spare bathroom products at his house, you were content with the wave armin and mikasa gave you out the door, content with the walk you and eren shared to the college, content with the last kiss he gave you before his class.

content is how you were feeling.

content.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger #attack on titan #eren jaeger smut

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kingwuko · 3 years ago

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Wuko in the Comics: Ruins of the Empire, Book 1 part 2

Welcome to my series of posts discussing Wuko in the Comics. In this post I'll continue to discuss RotE Book 1. There are some... interesting moments in the second half of this comic, including a very famous line that all but confirms canon Wuko.

Plot Summary

Fearing that Guan will use violence to stop the election, the Krew decides to bring Kuvira along with them to Gaoling, hoping that she can talk him down. When they come face-to-face with Guan, however, they discover he does not intend to use violence, but will run in Gaoling’s election. The Krew decides the best solution is to find another candidate with enough public support to defeat Guan fair and square; and they decide to ask Toph to run. It is revealed, however, that Guan does not intend to win fair and square. He’s planning to brainwash Gaoling’s citizens to vote for him.

Major Plot points in the second half of Book 1

We start off right away with the Sauna Scene. Everyone looks excellent. The ladies' sauna wear is lovely. Mako and Bolin have their classic swim suits seen in season 1. Wu is literally just wearing a towel. I found myself googling saunas and steam baths to see if it’s normal to wear swimsuits or just a towel, and everything I read said pretty much anything goes as long as you are comfortable, but I do find it interesting that everyone wears swimsuits except Wu. Maybe because he does steam baths more often and he’s just more comfortable in that setting? He seems pretty confident and not at all shy. I don’t have anything analytical to say about it, I just think it’s an interesting detail, that he doesn’t seem to have any hang-ups about being nearly naked around Mako his friends.

They are discussing Guan’s militaristic movement toward Gaoling, and tossing ideas around to handle the situation. Mako not-so-helpfully suggests using force with the united forces which Zhu Li shoots down right away, not wanting to escalate the situation. Wu agrees and wants to find a peaceful resolution. Korra, remembering her conversation with Kuvira, thinks she has the answer. She proposes bringing Kuvira along to Gaoling, which NOBODY is happy about. Asami is upset because she made it clear earlier she does not want to be in the same room as Kuvira, Bolin is distressed because Kuvira nearly had him killed when he defected from her inner circle, Mako points out that he nearly lost his arm taking down the mech, Zhu Li says she invaded republic city, Asami reminds everyone that Kuvira killed her father, and Wu boldly declares that we can’t forget she ruined his coronation… He quickly reads the room and apologises (character growth?).

Korra acknowledges everyone’s concerns and points out that she truly believes Kuvira can be an ally- she was their ally when Zaheer was trying to kill her and the airbenders; and when her spirit vine weapon ripped open a new portal to the spirit world, Kuvira thought she had died and Korra believes that changed her. Bolin points out that Kuvira is very persuasive and may have a good shot at convincing Guan to stand down. Everyone is convinced and declares their support for the plan.

Zhu Li orders Kuvira’s release and Korra brings her onto the airship taking them all to Gaoling. And, I’m sorry, this frame is like, the bitchiest collective look from Mako, Wu, Bolin and Pabu. I just love it.

They initially plan to restrain her, but decide it’s pointless when Kuvira points out if she wanted to escape that she would have already. They arrive at Gaoling and there’s no sign of Guan and his army. Kuvira is certain he’ll be there, and points out that she needs to change so she doesn’t meet with him looking like a prisoner.

Korra and Wu go to meet with the election candidates. Their portraits are on the wall and it’s revealed that the candidates are both elderly magistrates who have been working in the local government for a long time. They are practically indistinguishable from each other, which causes Korra concern. Wu isn’t happy about it either, he was hoping the elections would bring in new leaders to take the earth kingdom in a new direction. Instead, it looks like nothing will change in Gaoling or the rest of the earth kingdom if things play out the same way. They are both disappointed but Korra is optimistic that this is the first election and over things will improve as they iron out the political kinks

Back in the flying machine, they give Kuvira an outfit of Asami’s that is…. Like I can’t put it into words. I’ve never seen asami wear it and that is a shame. The word that comes to mind is “Dapper”. Like is we saw Asami wearing it when they first introduced her character literally everyone would have predicted Cannon Korrasami and immeadiately said “yup Asami’s gay straight women don’t dress like that”. Slacks, a collared long sleeve shirt, with a grey vest over top. Just like, amazing. I am so disappointed we never saw Asami wear this. Someone point me to a fanart of Asami in this outfit that canonically belongs to her please.

Guan arrives and Kuvira tries to talk to him, which goes about as well as you’d expect. So she tries to appeal directly to his troops and urges them to surrender, and they all say in unison “Hail Commander Guan!”. So Kuvira decides to challenge Guan and beats the crap out of him in a punch that looks like something directly out of a WWII propaganda poster or something.

Kuvira is literally about to kill him by bending the metal collar around his neck when suddenly Asami electrocutes her with some device she had hidden in the belt she gave Kuvira.

Once Mako and Bolin drag Kuvira away, Korra attempts to reason with Guan and tells him she won’t let him interfere with the election. Guan then reveals he has no intention of interfering- he plans on running in the election! He immediately turns in all the necessary paperwork to be on the ballot. He informs the Krew that soon, all the upcoming elections will have Earth Empire representatives running and once they have power in every territory, no one will question the Earth Empire's right to rule.

They reconvene back on the airship, where Kuvira is detained in the platinum box. They explain to Kuvira that she was wrong to provoke him, but right that he is an excellent strategist. Mako then tells Wu that he should just call off the election. Wu replies “Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around canceling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to see how this plays out”

…

Yes. “Mako, you know I love you”

…

We’ll discuss that at length in a bit.

They decide the best path forward is to find a new candidate who is popular enough to beat Guan. Korra excitedly suggests Toph. Which, like, wouldn’t have been the first person to come to mind for me, but I guess she’s the only person they know who is originally from Goaling? But everyone seems on board, except presumably Toph because she doesn't like to get involved in worldly affairs… So Korra announces they will just have to convince her!!

We then cut to Guan's encampment, where he is discussing Kuvira’s actions with a Doctor Sheng, observing that Kuvira just isn’t the same, and that the Avatar has corrupted her mind. The doctor suggests they “recalibrate” Kuvira’s mind and leads him into a structure where she shows him their latest “recruits'. We then see Goaling citizens tied up in chairs with devices on their heads. They are being brainwashed to vote for Guan! Yikes!

Mako and Wu Scenes

The Sauna scene

The meeting that took place in the sauna was at the behest of Wu. He said he was very stressed out so he couldn’t miss his steam bath. I know there are lots of jokes about Wu being high maintenance because he needs his spa days or whatever, but he is in a highly stressful situation right now and we know that self care is essential to maintain one’s mental health and in order to perform one’s job well. I think this was an interesting way to weave together his seemingly superficial hobbies with his new maturity and responsibility. I really loved this scene for that (though seeing all the hot people in sauna-wear is a bonus).

Also there is a recurring thing where Mako is just offering the worst advice to Korra. He wants the United Republic, a completely separate Nation from the Earth Kingdom, to just.. March into another country and ‘enforce’ their democratic process??? Like…. If you know anything about world history and current events we know that is awful and wouldn’t be received well and would be a recipe for political instability and long term conflict. Thank goodness everyone is like Mako no. I’m pointing this out because, as much as we think of Wu as being immature, irresponsible, whatever, the reality is that he has a level head while Mako is actually giving the irresponsible solutions here. It’s a really interesting evolution from the infamous Wu meltdown scene where Mako was the voice of reason, but here things have reversed.

Also, I want to point out the moment where Wu backs down after he adds his grievance to the list everyone is giving (She ruined my coordination!), it’s kind of played for laughs but like… Wu has a totally valid reason to be upset on par with everyone else, considering Kuvira had him drugged and kidnapped…. Why wouldn’t he have said that? Well, the simple and obvious answer is- the writers wanted to make a “Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking” joke. But since us fans like to give depths to the characters that they deserve, maybe Wu is genuinely traumatized and just doesn’t want to bring it up. And maybe everyone knows he’s traumatized and doesn't want to bring it up, because no one else is like “Wu, did you forget she had you drugged and kidnapped???” They just give him a look and he’s like “LOL oops sorry should have said my thing first!!” maybe Team Avatar understands that it was a really scary moment for him and they just let him shield himself with humor.

I know it isn’t isn’t exactly a strong Wuko moment, but the bitchy look that Moko, Bolin, Wu and Pabu give to Kuvira in the airship breathed life into me for some reason. I’m loving how they look like a group of mean girls who were just badmouthing Kuvira before she walked in. I think they were having a nice bonding moment before this.

Mako, you know I love you

Ok. So after Mako casually mentions just calling off the election, Wu flat out says “I love you” to Mako. This is a line us Wuko shippers just DIE for. The full line is as follows:

Mako: I say you call off the vote, at least for now. Make it impossible for Guan to win

Wu: Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around cancelling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to let this play out.

So. Like, what the heck are we supposed to make of this?

I’m not going to dig too deep and force my own interpretations and headcanons onto you. This I love you could mean a number of different things. I just want to pose some rhetorical questions about it and the context to give us all some things to think about.

Is Wu flirting? Does Mako actually know that Wu loves him? Is this an extension of Wu’s many other instances of flirting with complimenting Mako (on par with ‘my big tough guy” while staring at his ass)? Has Wu said “I love you” to Mako before? How many times has Wu said “Mako I love you” before? Is this evidence of them actually being in a romantic relationship during this comic? Or is it evidence of romantic tension building? Is Mako just totally oblivious to the fact that Wu said I love you? Or did he hear it and his brain blue-screened from the shock of being blatantly told I love you? Has Wu just gotten fed up that Mako seems oblivious to all his previous flirtations and he just decided to up the ante? Does Mako love Wu back?!

Lots of questions. Lots of interpretations. But (as far as I remember) Mako has only said I love you to two people- his brother and Korra (I don’t think he said I love you to Asami but I could be wrong). And if you’ve read this you know that Mako’s relationship with Wu is not brotherly. We’ve never heard “I love you” from Wu toward anyone else that I can recall so I don’t think he makes a habit of throwing the phrase around lightly. Also, worth noting: Literally no one reacts to the casual “I love you”. Everyone just goes on with the conversation at hand. The next frame that we see of Wu and Mako’s faces together, Mako is SMILING at Wu.

So like, he’s clearly not uncomfortable with being told that Wu loves him. And no one else is uncomfortable with it either. So what gives? Are they together? Are they flirting? Is everyone else just like “yup Wu said I love you Mako nothing out of the ordinary here because it’s painfully obvious Wu is into Mako, let's move on, nothing to see here”?

Wu and Korra

One thing I LOVE about these comics is the friendship between Korra and Wu. During the series, Korra tolerated Wu, warming up to him a bit at the very end when he told her his plan to abdicate. But through these comics there seems to be a comfortable familiarity between them. A bit of teasing, loads of moral support, and not a hint of her (or anyone) being super annoyed by him. He also doesn’t hit on her or anyone else except Mako, which is a very refreshing character growth because it was very tiresome to watch him objectify women in the animated series.

Korra and Wu spend a good amount of time together as she accompanies him to Gaoling’s city hall. They seem very comfortable with each other, comfortable enough that the writers included a fart joke.

Korra reassures Wu when he expresses worry about the election being pointless, she steps forward somewhat protectively when Guan shows up- the entire scene with Guan, Korra is standing between him and Wu.

Basically I bring this up because I genuinely love the idea that Korra and Wu are close and friendly, that they have moved on from his cringy behavior from the series (I like to think he apologized to both her and Asami?)

What this means for Wuko

If you are writing fic or just coming up with headcanon, there are two ways to look at the scenes. Either they are in a relationship, or they aren’t. You could easily just say they are in a relationship and are being quiet about it, because they aren’t ready to be fully public, or maybe because they are still figuring things out, or they are waiting for Wu to abdicate and move back to Republic City, etc. “You know I love you” is such an easy piece of canon content to make this your headcanon.

Likewise, one could say they are Not Together right now. Pre-relationship, if you will. Maybe they’ve danced around the idea, discussed feelings without actually getting together. Or maybe they are still clueless that there is a potential for a relationship. Wu might be putting out feelers to see how Mako responds to his flirtations. Mako might be wondering if he’s misinterpreting Wu’s affectionate touches and words. Lots of romantic tension, pining, each wondering if the other one has any feelings.

I also love the idea that Wu and Korra are friends and have discussed or will discuss Mako and Wu’s feelings for him.

So, in summary, Wu loves Mako. It’s canon. It’s right there in black and white. Make of it what you will!

Next post I will discuss Wuko in the first half of RotE Book 2. Wu goes on a life-changing field trip with Korra to meet Toph and confront a swamp-vision of his Late Great Aunt, while Mako gets captured and brainwashed by Guan. Wu and Mako are not together during these scenes but there will be lots of wonderful Wu backstory along with plenty of angst potential from the brainwashing storyline.

Wuko in Turf Wars

Wuko in RotE part 1

#Wuko #Wuko in the Comics #RotE #Mako #Prince Wu

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thewhitejournal · 4 years ago

Text

”The Intern”

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

(not my gif)

hey all! so recently i’ve gotten into criminal minds and i may or may not have fallen in love with thomas gibson, so! i decided to write some fanfic about him. please let me know what you think, any feedback is great. like and share if you enjoyed, and let me know if i should continue this as a series! thanks a bunch!

content warnings: none

It was your first day shadowing under Penelope Garcia, a technical analyst at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. Your dad had some connections to the bureau and got you a special opportunity to see what a day, or rather, a week in the life of a technical analyst at the BAU consisted of.

Technical analyst, that’s been your dream job for what felt like forever; before you knew what the words meant, you knew you wanted to be able to do extensive research on awful people and help put a stop to their doings. Helping people was one of the things you felt you did best. So you were going to make a career out of it.

Stepping over your stacks of clothes and textbooks, you sized yourself up in your floor-length mirror. Your mom helped you pick out some new clothes, and you were wearing your favorite shirt you found while shopping. It was a navy button-up shirt, carefully pressed so there were no wrinkles. It fit your curves right in every way, and the navy complimented your skin tone perfectly. Your eyes travelled to your neckline; a chain with a simple charm hung around your neck, the metal shining in the sunlight coming in from the blinds.

Your fingers played with the charm, twirling it back and forth. It matched the pair of earrings you wore, a hand-me-down set of jewelry from someone in your family, probably your grandmother. You looked yourself in the eyes, admiring your simple makeup. Your hair fell in waves; you fooled with it a bit to make sure there wasn’t a hair astray. Your attention wandered back to your outfit. The black slacks had a piece of fuzz or two on them, and you picked them off, straightening them out. Your mom tried to convince you to wear a skirt, but you insisted pants were more practical. They are, of course.

The only part of your ensemble you might regret is the black pair of heels that were already hugging your feet in a bit of an uncomfortable manner. It was the comprise you made with your mom to not wear the skirt. You had to admit though, they complimented you well. Glancing at the clock on your wall, you saw it was almost time to leave. You grabbed your black blazer, pulling it on and releasing your hair from the neckline.

The keys laying on your table in your apartment jingled as you picked them up. You grabbed your purse and gave the place a once over, making sure you didn’t forget anything. You flicked the lights off, shutting and locking your door behind you, and headed towards the elevator.

Stepping in and pressing the button to the garage, you let out a shaky breath, suddenly realizing how nervous you were. You tried to breathe steady breaths and calm down, but it was hard. Your mind was racing. Would you be any good? Could you handle the cases? Would Penelope like you? What if nobody liked you?

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, pulling you from your thoughts. You could do this. Probably.

Your heels clicking echoed throughout the parking garage, followed by the sound of your car unlocking and beeping. Opening the door, you climbed in and sat your purse in the passenger seat, sighing heavily. You wish you had some sort of idea of what to expect for today, but it’s like you were walking into a room blindfolded. You slid the keys in the ignition and started the car, pulling it out of the garage and making the short drive to the BAU.

A playlist of your favorite songs spilled through the speakers and filled the air; you thought maybe the music would help you feel better, and it did. But that feeling of bliss ended quickly when you pulled into the parking lot. Turning the car off, you looked out your windshield at the daunting and intimidating building before you. Making one last check of your appearance in the review mirror, you grabbed your keys and your purse and made your way to the front door.

You told the front desk person what you were instructed to by Penelope, and he let you proceed to the elevator. You luckily ended up alone in the elevator, giving yourself some more time to mentally prepare. It dinged, signalling your arrival to the floor you were supposed to be on.

The directions from the elevator to Penelope’s office replayed in your head like a broken record, as to not forget your way there. You tried to keep your head held high, but it was hard to; a feeling washed over you, like every pair of eyes in the room was on you. Maybe that was just paranoia though. You were about to reach her office when an undoubtedly handsome and buff man stepped foot into your path as you passed him.

“I think I’d remember seeing your pretty face around here, got a pretty name to go with it?” He said coyly, raising his dark and thick eyebrows as he spoke, a smirk gracing his face that showed off his incredibly straight teeth.

You stuttered and tried to think of what to say to such a bold question, but Penelope peeked her head out of her office before you had the chance to conjure a sentence.

“Ah ah, Derek. That one’s mine. Leave her be.” She said, looking at you with a kind smile. She waved you over, and you slid past Derek.

“Nice meeting you, Derek.” You called over your shoulder as Penelope practically pulled you into her office. You heard him huff with defeat and say something else before she shut the door behind you.

“But I don’t get your name?” He practically yelled, arms rising and then falling in defeat. He shook his head and returned to what you assumed to be his desk. You and Penelope shared a laugh.

“Hi, honey! I hope sweet-cheeks out there didn’t give you too much trouble. It’s so nice to finally meet you! Your dad’s told me so much about you!” She said to you, extending her hand, the sound of bracelets jingling accompanying it. She was quite bubbly, it was clear to see. Her clothes and office space were colorful and bright; it’s not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just not what you expected to see inside an FBI agent’s office.

You shook her hand, returning the smile she gave you. “No, he didn’t. I was just taken by surprise is all. It’s nice to meet you too!” She took your purse from your hands and sat it on the table closest to the door, next to the purse you assumed to be hers. She gestured to an empty chair that was pushed into the table; it sat in front of a laptop, a setup that looked puny compared to hers. She had several monitors all over the wall and two separate computers set up.

“Your seat, madam.” You chuckled a bit, sitting down. Her personality made you feel more at ease immediately. Maybe she was always like this, or maybe she could tell you were tense. Either way, it helped you feel better, and you were already starting to like her.

“So what I usually do is sit in front of these screens all day and dig up the nasty stuff on the bad guys for our good guys. I’m talking sealed records, CCTV, bank accounts, you name it and I can find it.” Penelope was sat down in her own chair now, waving her hands around as she spoke. You sat silently, listening intently as she continued to tell you what her job consisted of. Suddenly, her door was swung open. A tall man in a suit with black hair and beautiful light brown eyes stood there, looking directly at Penelope. He was holding a file.

“Garcia, we have a case.” His left arm outstretched to hand her the file, letting you be able to notice his shiny watch and wedding band. It was almost like he didn’t even know you were there - at first. His eyes glanced over your way, then did a double-take, when you assumed he realized he didn’t know who you were.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. You must be the intern Penelope was telling me about.” His hand reached out to shake yours. You stood to your feet quickly and shook it. His grip was firm and his hands were huge. You tried not to make it obvious that you were intimidated by him, but you tried very hard to not let your gaze fall to the floor. Looking into his eyes gave you butterflies, which was odd. This man was a stranger to you and yet he seemed so familiar.

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, sir, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I’m really excited to be here.” You gave him a smile, and he returned the favor, a soft one gracing over his lips. Your hands seemed to be clasped together for a second or two too long, but neither of you seemed to be objected to it. He let his hand fall from yours, and he shoved them in his pocket.

“Well from what I hear from Garcia, we’re lucky to have you. Nice to meet you, (Y/N). And you can call me Hotch.” With that and one last smile to you both, he swiftly shut the door behind him. You sat back down and noticed Garcia giving you a weird look, a smirk on her face. You laughed nervously.

“What?” You asked her, her smile beaming at you.

“Nothing, he just never smiles like that. Especially not since Haley-, well his wife...” She trailed off. Your brows furrowed. If something had happened between him and his wife, why was he still wearing a wedding band?

“Is she-?”

“Dead? No. Staying at her parent’s house with their son? Yes. It’s taken a toll on him, but I haven’t seen him smile like that in forever. We’ll have to keep you around, you’re magic or something, kid. Hotch doesn’t smile for anyone.” Penelope turned to her computers and started typing away, getting ready to work the case you assumed. A blush crept up onto your cheeks. Something told you that you wouldn’t mind staying there a bit longer either.

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icerosecrystal · 4 years ago

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Jasonette - A Second Chance Pt. 1

This one-shot contains major character death as well as blood and violence. BTW, to clear up their ages at the beginning of the story.

Alfred: IMMORTAL, MY CHILDREN

Bruce: 44

Dick: 29

Jason: 24

Marinette: 23

Tim: 21

Damian: 14

(Marinette’s POV)

Ladybug had failed all of Paris. She had gone into today’s battle, thinking that she and her partner Chat Noir would work together to defeat Hawkmoth. But, right when she had asked Chat Noir to take Hawkmoth’s miraculous, he froze. He then did the worst thing she could imagine he laughed. Chat then walked up to Hawkmoth while Hawkomth chuckled, “Little Bug, even your partner doesn’t support you anymore. Just give up.”

Ladybug froze, her mind racing. Her partner had betrayed her. He had decided that the cause they had been fighting for the last decade was no longer worth the fight. (I was going to make you’ll do the math, but then I saw I already told you Marinette’s age above, lmao.) She screamed in frustration and then shouted, “ Never!”

Ladybug or Marinette was a great fighter, especially after having been in the superhero gig for so long. But, Chat Noir was also pretty good, and he was allied with both Mayura and Hawkmoth. It was safe to say that the odds weren’t looking well for Marinette. She was growing tired, and Tikki didn’t have much energy left within her.

That’s when it happened, Marinette made a mistake. The next thing she knew, Hawkmoth had her pinned to the ground and had pulled off her miraculous, consequently revealing her identity. Hawkmoth handed over her miraculous to Chat Noir, who put it on. Chat, then turned into a deep purple, and a voice asked him, “What do you wish for, oh young one?”

Chat replied, “I wish for the rebirth of my mom, Emilie Agreste.” Marinette’s heart stopped. Her ex-partner was Adrien Agreste. And if he’s assisting Hawkmoth, that must mean that Hawkmoth is Gabriel Agreste, her idol. Then Natalie Sancoeur must be Mayura. Marinette came to those conclusions in a matter of seconds. But, after a minute, she started feeling sluggish. She felt her heartbeat slow down. She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep forever. She didn’t feel so good at this point. Through her blurry vision, she saw a woman that looked like Adrien’s Mother appear. As Emilie returned to full consciousness, that’s when Marinette started losing consciousness. The last thing that she heard in a whisper was, “ A life for a life, that was the price.” Before she closed her eyes, succumbing her body and mind to the darkness that lay ahead.

(Talia POV)

Talia Al-Ghul was expecting a lot of things today. What she was not expecting was to find Paris in a mid-battle, for one of the heroes partners to betray them, the villains winning, and then said hero dying. She looked at the body of the girl that everyone was staring at and thought she didn’t deserve to die like this, plus she might be useful to the league. Talia pulled up her mask to cover her face and then blended in with the shadows. No one actually so her until she grabbed the girl and disappeared. Her actions prompted a lot of commotion back at the battle location.

Talia boarded her plane, carrying the body in her arms. She was slightly worried about the potential effects the Lazarus pit could have on her. She had experienced the worse side-effects, courtesy of one Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. Talia could still remember his screams as he clawed his way out of the Lazarus Pit and started to attack all the assassins with the intent to kill anyone and everyone. They had barely managed to restrain him. She hoped that this girl would not receive similar side-effects. But, based on the amount of trauma and betrayal she held within her like Jason, it would be inevitable.

Once Talia arrived at the league with the dead girl, she walked out of the plane got some bandages. Talia then took the girl, or rather Marinette. She found out from a face scan that pulled up all her legal documents as well as her background information, to her father, Ra’s. Once she arrived before her father, she bowed her head in respect for him.

“Ahhh, daughter, you’ve returned. And who is this you’ve acquired.”

Talia answered, “Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, twenty-three-years-old, and an excellent fighter. She lived in Paris, France, and was the main hero. Today was the final battle, and her partner ended up betraying her, getting her killed in the process.” She then handed over all of Marinette’s legal documentation as well as her background info to her father.

Ra’s looked through it and then asked, “How would she be a useful asset to the league?”

Talia responded, “After what happened with Marinette, she would have a thirst for revenge on the people that wronged her. I’m enunciating that we can use that to our advantage. The only problem is that Marinette carries around a lot of trauma, betrayal, and loneliness like Jason Todd. I’m concerned that she might have the same reaction for dipping in the pit.”

Ra’s nodded, considering the idea and agreeing that a person with the thirst for revenge would be a useful addition to the league.

Talia watched Ra’s, hoping to get an idea of what he was thinking. He then beckoned for her to follow him. He leads her to the Lazarus Pit, and Talia now knew that Ra’s supported her decision. She put Marinette down and wrapped her in bandages before dipping her in the pit. What happens next is alarming.

Marinette has the same reaction as Jason. This time though, everyone was ready. Talia quickly took hold of her and started whispering how she got to her destination and how she came back to life. Unlike Jason, though, Marinette doesn’t have as much of a temper, which helps Talia efficiently calm her down faster. Talia then tells Marinette, “Would you like to be an Assasin and fix those who have wronged you?”

Talia wasn’t asking. They would force Marinette if she refused, but they wanted to be her ally rather than as her foe. But what would she choose?

(Marinette’s POV)

A burning sensation was all Marinette felt. But she was supposed to be dead. So, what was she doing alive she got out of the green ooze that she was inside. Marinette frantically looked around while clawing the bandages on her to get rid of the burning sensation. When it didn’t work, she tried to claw her way out of the goop to ease the burning until someone caught her around her middle. The same person took her out of the green goop and started whispering reassurance in her ear. Marinette relaxed until the women asked a question that would change everything, “Would you like to be an Assasin and fix those who have wronged you?”

The logical side of her brain argued that she shouldn’t yield herself to killing others, that it was wrong. The other side of Marinette’s brain felt hazy from dipping into the ooze. It was also hazy because of her grief, pain, betrayal, trauma, and loneliness argued that revenge was the only way to go. She slowly let the murky part of her brain take over until revenge felt like eating ice cream on a hot summer day, great. She nodded her head in agreement with the proposition. The woman smiled and then introduced herself as Talia Al-Ghul, the demon head’s daughter. She spent the rest of the day explaining everything about the league to Marinette. Talia also explained rules that applied specifically to her. By the end of the day, Marinette had an outfit that she would use on missions and during training. Talia then left Marinette to settle in. Marinette looked around the room and sighed, getting ready for experiencing this every day from now on.

(Four months time skip)

It had been four months since Marinette became a member of the league of assassins. And as expected, she was a valuable member of the order. Her need for revenge drove her to work harder on missions.

One morning, Talia awoke Marinette with some news. “You will be going to Gotham to check on my son, who should be 14 now. You will observe how he communicates with his family, and if there any problems arise, you will assist them. Report back to me every day, understand?”

Marinette nodded, “Yes, Mistress.” Talia nodded back and then left to get the plane ready. Marinette wore her usual assassin outfit.

Marinette then went outside and stood before Talia. Shed waited for Talia to give her to okay to board the plane. Once she did, they both got on and reviewed everything they knew about Damian and the Waynes. By the time they arrived in Gotham, Marinette had memorized the information of every single Wayne. She said goodbye to Talia and tracked down Damian, watching him from afar in the shadows.

(Time Skip of a Week)

It had been a week since Marinette started observing Damian. She had to say that he was growing soft. Although, it had been four years since Damian was under league supervision. Everything was going all right on the bat’s patrol until it wasn’t.

The bat family was fighting some thugs at the docks when a thug snuck behind Damian, or rather Robin, and shot him in the stomach. Damian fell to the ground in pain, but still alive. This action provoked Marinette to let out a deep, feral growl. She then grabbed some of her throwing stars and launched them at the thug, effectively killing him in the process. Her actions lead the bat clan to shift their attention to her. They quickly fought off the remaining thugs. They then walked up to a bleeding Damian and Marinette standing in front of him as if to guard him.

Batman then asked, “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Marinette answered, “My name is Dark Angel. I was sent by Mistress Talia to look after Damian for a little bit and see how he’s fitting in.”

Batman then stated, “You killed the man.”

Marinette shrugged, “It comes with the job description. I’m an assassin. You know, a murderer who targets people that would be better off dead?”

Batman sighed, “Nobody is better off dead.”

Marinette shrugged again, so done with this conversation, “Speak for yourself.”

(Jason’s POV, sorry for the abrupt change)

Jason stared at the woman in front of him, who must be his age. He recognized her behavior from somewhere. Jason suddenly realized where he had seen this behavior before he exhibited this demeanor after he came back to life. That meant that she had died, and Talia was using her want for revenge like the league used his.

Jason asked, no stated, “You died.”

Dark Angel stiffened, “Who wants to know?” Yup, her reaction confirmed his suspicions she had died and was then brought back by the Lazarus Pit. Most likely recently by how raw her emotions still were.

Jason walked up slowly to her and remarked, “You died and later brought back to the Lazarus Pit. You probably have a thirst for revenge. I can see a lot of you in me. I can help you.” He tried to be as gentle as possible, which was hard considering his character.

Dark Angel backed away while shaking her head, frantically", No, you know NOTHING ABOUT ME! YOU DON’T KNOW THE BETRAYAL, THE TRAUMA. YOU KNOW NOTHING!!!“ She then ran away, trying to get away from the Bat Clan.

Jason looked over at Bruce, or Batman, with determination clear, in his eyes, "I’m going to go find her.”

Batman nodded, “Take RR and Nightwing with you. I’m going to take Robin back to the Bat cave, where Agent A can patch him up. Once you find her, bring her to the cave so that we can talk with her.”

Jason then nodded and grappled in the direction that Dark Angel went, with Red Robin and Nightwing following in his wake. After running for a little bit, they caught sight of her blending in with the shadows. They decided to split up to cover more ground. Jason ran as fast as he could along the rooftops when he finally caught sight of Dark Angel. She looked to be crying. When she saw him, she jumped off the roof and opened a portal falling through. Jason jumped after her and barely went through in time. He then fell on top of something and groaned. Jason got up and looked around. He realized that he was standing on the Eiffel Tower, was he in Paris?

(Marinette’s POV)

After Jason or Red Hood confronted her and tried to compare herself to him, she ran. She started crying, the emotions too overwhelming to not cry. Marinette cried for a little bit. But, she then caught sight of Red Hood running up to her. She glared at him and asked Kaakki to open a portal. A week after she had managed to become an assassin, she had returned to her room and got the miracle box back in her possession. Talia had no idea, and Marinette had no desire to tell her.

She jumped through the portal, she landed on the Eiffel Tower, and took a deep breath. Behind her, she heard a loud thud and then a groan. She whipped around to find that the idiot Red Hood had followed her through the portal. She saw him get up and look around before a look of realization spread through his face. Marinette saw him look at her. She quickly ran away. She felt him running after her. But she had a mission, and she wasn’t going to stop until she accomplished it. Marinette’s mission the demise of everyone that ever hurt Marinette.

She ran to the Agreste Mansion and went through Adrien’s open window. She saw him sitting at his computer happily looking at something. That asshole, he killed her and was enjoying life himself. “Adrien,” she crooned sweetly, “How are you? Are you having a good time since you got your mother back by killing someone else?”

Adrien looked frightened, “How do you know that?”

She walked up to him, hips swaying. She then pulled out her dagger and slid her finger across the blade, “I know a lot of things about you. Like how you are a selfish, asshole.” She then pulled him closer to her and put the dagger to his neck. “You deserve to die, slowly and painfully, and I will happily help you.”

Before Adrian could scream for anyone, Marinette had already stabbed him in the stomach where his lungs were. She was going to do his heart or behead him, but that let him off too easy. The look of pure horror etched onto his face as he fell on the floor with blood all over him, and the floor had Marinette smirking. She grabbed the cat miraculous off of Adrien’s finger and the ladybug miraculous off of his ears. She knew that Red Hood was behind her, but she couldn’t care less.

Next, Marinette went looking for Gabriel and Natalie. It looked like Emilie was out right now. So, Marinette wouldn’t kill her. She also didn’t take part in killing her. She found Gabriel and Natalie in the house’s atelier. Once they saw her, they prepared to attack her. But she had already whipped out a gun and had shot both of them. She had tried to shoot them approximately below where their heart was. As Marinette got closer to examine them, she realized that she had damn good aim. The bullets had hit them directly in the area she was hoping. Close enough to kill them, but far enough to cause them pain. Their blood was gushing out of them, and Marinette could tell that they would die. She grabbed the butterfly miraculous and the peacock miraculous. She brought Adrien downstairs to lie next to his family. Marinette then went back into the shadows with Red Hood following her right as Emilie arrived.

Marinette watched as Emilie looked at her dead family and started sobbing. Emilie then took notice of the note next to them.

It read:

THEY TOOK A LIFE, AND NOW I DESERVE TO TAKE THEIR LIFE FROM THEM IN TURN. EMILIE, YOU ARE SPARED BECAUSE YOU TOOK NO PART IN ANYTHING.

~DARK ANGEL

Marinette watched Emilie drop down to her knees and continue wailing while crushing the note in her hand. Marinette watched closely, and she wondered if her parents did the same or if they replaced her like everyone else. She shook the thought off and then went to another house, the house of Liar Rossi.

Marinette her house, and went around it trying to find the liar. She found Lila in her room, practicing her crying. Marinette smirked to herself. She always knew that Lila had to practice crying with how many crocodile tears she let loose every day. She snuck up behind Lila and whispered, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

Lila stopped her tears and turned around, scared out of her mind. “Who are you?”

Marinette snickered, “I’m Dark Angel, or more specifically, you’re worst nightmare.”

Lila started crying again, except this time, her tears weren’t as fake as her life. “PLEASE DON’T HURT ME, I’LL DO ANYTHING! I HAVE A LOT OF INFORMATION ABOUT THIS COUNTRY’S GOVERNMENT!”

Marinette took a knife out and ran it across Lila’s skin, causing a scream out of her, “Here’s the thing, Ms. Rossi. You are extremely selfish. You were willing to sell out your country just like that. Plus, I know you’re lying. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. So, here’s the deal, the more you lie, the more I torture you.”

Lila spent the next thirty minutes telling lies. When Marinette knew she would be confessing, she gave Lila’s phone to Red Hood so that he could film her confession. Lila then broke, “OKAY OKAY, I AM SO SORRY!!! I DON’T KNOW ANY OF THE CELEBRITIES I CLAIM I DO. I DON’T HAVE TINNITUS EITHER! MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WASN’T BULLYING ME, I BULLIED HER. I THREATENED HER IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN SHE FOUND OUT MY LIES AND THREATENED TO TAKE AWAY ALL HER FRIENDS. I SUCCEEDED. I WAS ALSO WORKING WITH HAWKMOTH AND HELPED MAKE ADRIEN WHO WAS CHAT NOIR BETRAY LADYBUG!!! NOW PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!!!”

Marinette sneered and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.” Lila looked at her in hope until she stabbed Lila in the stomach, saying, “Oops, I lied.”

As Lila died, Marinette went to Red Hood and took the phone from his editing the video before sending it to all of Lila’s contacts. When she sent it to Alya, she asked her to post the video on the Lady blog before watching it. She then looked over at Red Hood, who was looking at her in shock. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’m not assassinating anyone else. Just torturing them.”

She then went to each of her classmates’ houses and tortured them, depending on how loyal they were to Lila. The person who Marinette tortured the least was Juleka, and the person that she tortured the most was Alya. Once Marinette had finished torturing all of her ex-classmates, she looked over to Red Hood and said, “Okay, I’m ready to go now.”

Red Hood looked at her, confused, “If you were going to go with me either way, why did you run?”

She shrugged, “Your clan had found me out. I wanted people dead. Plus, I was emotional as hell after your whole speech. I also still need to check up on Damian.”

(3rd Person POV)

Red Hood nodded and beckoned for her to open a portal. Marinette did so, and they both dropped through, ending up in the Bat cave. Their sudden appearance surprised all of the current occupants of the cave. Marinette walked up to Damian and asked him, “Are you okay?”

Damian replied, “Tt, ” and then nodded in affirmation.

Before Marinette could say anything else, Batman told her, “I now want you to explain to us who you are, why you’re here. Got it!” He then gave her the Bat glare in case she wouldn’t listen to him.

Marinette nodded and then spoke, “Hi, my assassin name is Dark Angel. My birth name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” A flash of recognition flashed through everyone’s faces. Unbeknownst to Marinette, Hawkmoth had been broadcasting the final battle. Everyone had seen when Hawkmoth had revealed her identity and when she had died. “I was a superhero in Paris. My partner and I were in the final battle when I found out that he had betrayed me and Hawkmoth’s side and was playing me this whole time. The villains won, and they made a wish to revive a dead person. In return, someone else had to die. In this case, it was me. The next thing I know, my whole body feels like it’s burning, and I’m inside of a pit full of green goop. Mistress Talia promised me revenge for the people that had hurt me. I excepted her offer. Since then, I’ve been an assassin for four months now, training every single day for hours. Talia told me to watch your family for a little bit as a mission, which was what I was doing until Damian got shot. You know the rest.”

Red Robin looked at her skeptically, “Where did you and Red Hood go when we tried to find you.”

Marinette looked at Red Hood before carefully answering, “I had some business in Paris, so to speak.”

Nightwing then asked, “And what was this "business” and how the hell did you get to Paris?“

Marinette sighed, rubbing her forehead to ease the throbbing, "You’re not going to let this go, are you?” When she saw everyone shake their head, she answered, “Fine. I was able to get to Paris because I have a miraculous that can open portals.” She showed them the miraculous and then demonstrated it to them. “Once I got to Paris, I committed my revenge. I killed my old partner, Hawkmoth, and Mayura. I also killed a liar who took away everything from me and was also working with Hawkmoth. I also exposed the liar. Finally, I tortured all of my old friends. Yay, I told you everything. Can I go now?”

Everyone looked at her, horrified that she was talking so casually as if she hadn’t just admitted to murderer and torture. Before anyone could say anything, Red Hood shouted, “No!” While taking off his helmet.

Marinette looked at him in irritation, “No? And why fucking not?”

Jason looked over at her, “Because I’m not letting Talia use you anymore.”

Marinette sighed, knowing he was right. Now that she had gotten her revenge, her mind was a lot more clear, and she realized why Talia wanted her to be an assassin in the first place. “Fine, so I’m staying here?” Everyone nodded, still in a daze from everything they just learned.

Marinette shook her head, and Alfred (THE AMAZING GOD THAT HE IS) came into the Bat Cave when Marinette was going to ask someone to lead her upstairs. As Marinette walked upstairs, she hoped that things would work out for her.

(one month time skip)

Marinette had been staying with the Bat Fam or rather Waynes for a month now. She honest to kwami had no idea how they were still alive. The number of times they pulled a weapon on each other was frightening, to be honest. As she got to know each of them, they felt more like her brothers and father, except for one person, Jason damn Todd. She really liked him. He was so gentle with her, and at first, she didn’t understand why. But one day, Jason told her his backstory. To her surprise, it was similar to hers. Once she figured that out, they connected on a whole other level. In fact, they had both sworn that they would try not to kill again. And naturally, the one guy who will probably ever understand her, she had to have a crush on.

Another problem was Talia Al-Ghul. She still hadn’t come to find Marinette. So she was either planning something big. OR SHE WAS DEAD! What, a girl could dream. Marinette then heard a crash downstairs. She ran downstairs and what she saw had her reeling. Talia was in the middle of the living room, playing with her dagger. Once she saw Marinette, she smirked, “Marinette, you’re here. We can go back to the league now.”

Marinette shook her head, “I like living here, and I don’t want to leave.”

The smile that was on Talia’s face disappeared, “Even if you do like it here, you still have to get revenge on the people that wronged you.”

Marinette clicked her tongue, “That’s the thing, I already did revenge on them. I killed the main ones and tortured the rest.”

Talia yelled in defeat, “Well, if you won’t come back, then you’ll just die!” (I know I made Talia super sweet at the start of the story. But let’s face it. She’s a manipulator and a bitch) She then charged Marinette with her dagger in hand. But before she could reach Marinette, she was dead on the floor with multiple bullet holes going through her.

Marinette, with a gun in her hand, sank to her knees sobbing. The Wayne family, having heard the gunshots, hurried to the first floor. There they found a sobbing Marinette and a dead Talia. Jason hurried to Marinette and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, Pixie, what’s wrong?” Marinette shook her head, still sobbing. The rest of the family, seeing that Marinette wasn’t calming down, decided to give some words of support before taking Talia out of the room and cleaning the blood.

Jason picked up Marinette, who was clinging to his leather jacket and took her upstairs to his room. He whispered soothing words in her ear the whole way. Once they arrived, he put her down on the bed and cuddled her, “Marinette, Pixie, Baby, I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

Marinette’s sobbing started dying down. Eventually, it was only an occasional tear with some hiccups and sniffs. “I made a promise that I wouldn’t kill anymore. I broke that promise. Deep down, I really am a murderer.” She started sobbing again.

Jason sighed and crooned to her, “Oh, baby. Do you really think that? I used to murderer people all the time. Does that still make me a murderer? No! It doesn’t make you a murderer either.”

He then started kissing her cheek, her eyelids, her button-nose, her forehead, her head, her jaw. He trailed kisses down her neck while speaking, “I- love-you-so-much. And nothing-is ever-going- to change-that. You- are not- a- murderer.” He then planted a fervent kiss on her lips, which she deepened.

They continued kissing until Marinette broke away to say, “I love you too. You helped me so much when I was broken.”

Jason looked at her in the eyes with a raw intensity, “Then if you love me, never blame yourself for what happened to you.”

She smiled softly, “I promise”, before kissing him once more, with a deep passion.

He pulled away this time and told her, “You have a chance to have a second chance at life. Not many people get that. Use that second chance to fulfill everything you ever wanted. Leave the past behind. Be who you really are. Who you were before everything. But move into the future, with me by your side.”

“A second chance,” Marinette whispered, “A second chance.” Before kissing him once more. She was going to be okay. They had each other, and they were going to get through everything together. Together no matter what, they were going to give themselves a second chance, and they were going to spend every second of it together.

#mlb x dc #maribat #batman #miraculous ladybug #jasonette #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #talia al ghul #league of assassins #batfamily #salt #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #lila salt #marinette died #revenge #assassin marinette

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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 8. Civil Unrest

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For all intents and purposes this is filler so the next chapter will be up in the next few minutes

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In a few days you were up on your feet, your need to survive driving your fast recovery. As soon as you could sit up without nearly fainting and you could bend your fingers without much pain you started taking patients. Mainly burns and cuts. You kept your head down while working, adding to your intimidating reputation. They didn’t realise you were just trying to conceal yourself while looking for familiar faces. You rarely left the medical bay, even when it was icy cold.

Carol checked on you regularly, seemingly incredibly concerned for you. It almost pained you to suspect her to be out to get you. Luckily she seemed convinced that because you had been alone for so long that you’d take a long time getting used to the walls. Maybe she figured out that you were just biding time for leaving again.

“Are you okay?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up suddenly, nodded, and went back to your reading. All these patient profiles from the previous physician were thorough. “Why would Emmett be this detailed with extremely basic medical care” you tought, then again he was a captive here just as much as you were. He probably had nothing better to do. “Are you sure? You look so serious.” She continued. You looked up to her. She was lying on one of the beds chewing on a piece of hard plastic. Having to keep a watch on ‘The New Doc’ would’ve been extremely boring.

“Just a lot of reading” you sat up and stretched your arms, not realising how long you had sat hunched over the hand-written pages. “Doctors have horrible handwriting and this guy sure likes to drag his point out”

“How bad is it?” She asked. You lifted the profile of another patient and followed along with your finger.

“The left Thenar has suffered tremendous infliction resulting in the loss of elasticity and possible avulsion of the tissue” You read aloud in a dramatic voice

“What?” Laura said, taking the plastic out of her mouth for a moment

“He pulled the muscle in his thumb, possibly tearing it” you flopped the paper down, rubbing your forehead.

“And all those pages are full of that shit” Laura pressed. You sighed with a nod.

“I never thought I’d be grateful to have done AP english.” you sighed

“Okay smart ass no need to show off” Laura chuckled, chewing on the plastic again.

“Please,” you sat back in the chair “My old man made me do it. ‘You already speak english so it should be a breeze’ he said”

“Those kind of parents?”

“You’re familiar?”

“Yep” Laura sat up, hunching over her now crossed legs. “My dad was a lawyer. Mom was an accountant. They kept pushing me to over achieve”

“Bet they weren’t happy with that” you spoke, pointing to your neck to reference Laura’s tattoo. Her hand went over it instinctively.

“I had already skipped town with my boyfriend before I got this.” She laughed. The smile melted away as she slowly stroked her neck. “Hadn’t seen them since. Probably dead.”

The room got a lot more quiet. It was crazy to think you both were so close in age but had gone through so much hell in the same world. But Laura was a saviour. You were Negan’s kid. If you were to be friends it would have to be at an arm’s reach.

The momentum changed when Carol arrived in, holding a small tray with cookies on them. The smell told you they were fresh. Your heart wanted to tell her to get out, but those cookies smelled too damn good.

“How’s the hard work going ladies.” she spoke with a cheery voice, setting the tray down in front of you. You were on it instantly. You took a cookie with you as you limped over to lock the door to the medical bay. “Any news?” Carol whispered

Carol had asked you and Laura to investigate the uprising of Negan supporters in the Sanctuary. Well, mainly Laura since she would know more people in Carol’s eyes. The payment, cookies. Though Laura would probably do it for free. She enjoyed the new peace that came with being aligned with the other settlements.

“Just the usual hot-heads” Laura sighed. You limped back to your chair.

“They like to complain to me.” you gently sat down. You’d only been back walking without the full splint for a couple days now but the clunky half splint on your lower leg wasn’t exactly walker friendly. “‘You should’ve seen how great we were when Negan was running the place’ and other shit”

“What do you think of it?” Carol asks you seriously. You suck the sugar off your fingers happily.

“He mustn’t have been that good if he’s not in charge anymore.”

They had their little meeting then as Carol was leaving you piped up,

“How’s the bridge team?”

“No.” Carol retorted quickly as if speaking to a child. “You are not going out there how many times do I have to tell you.”

“I could help-”

“You’re needed here Y/N” she spoke firmly.

“Yes, mom.” you groaned from your chair, earning a laugh from Laura. Carol left quickly.

“Why do you wanna join the bridge team so badly?” Laura asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“I miss the fresh air, I guess” and there’s more chances to get away from you all.

That evening you were restless. Normally it was the pain that kept you up late but it also exhausted you. You got out of the medical bed you’d claimed as your own, one of three that outfitted the med bay. You limped your way out of the medbay, not bothered if you woke Laura. The bathroom was down the hall so she would just assume you had to pee, especially since you had taken the torch dedicated to midnight bathroom visits. Being the medic gave you the luxury of a torch instead of matches and a candle.

It hurt to climb up so many stairs, with both your wounds and the cold seeping into your skin, but you’d be tired by the time you came back down anyway. You walked onto what used to be Negan’s floor. Your ‘family’s’ floor. You’d wanted to see it for a while now, out of curiosity more than anything else.

You first went to your father’s room. Pushing the door open you felt a burst of cold air whip around you viciously. The room has been stripped of its furnishings, right down to the carpets. Taken away to be burned most likely. The windows were shattered, the bullet holes in the ceiling giving away the method. It was so completely devoid of any sign of human life one would say it always had been. You closed the door and continued onto the parlour where the wives would spend their day. This room didn’t have windows but the room was still completely void of any of the glamour that once adorned it. The only remnants was the wall paper which was peeling off due to the damp.

The image of the forgotten rooms didn’t stir emotion in the way you thought they would. You imagined getting overwhelmed with emotion, but you felt nothing. No that wasn’t right, you felt a loss. Not a loss of the grandeur you had gotten to enjoy in captivity, not a loss of the fake smiles from your many ‘mothers’. You felt a loss of your father. You mourned the man you had called your father, and the idea that all that was left of the memory of him were these halls where cowards bowed to him. You felt an overwhelming realisation that the man you called ‘Pops’ had died long before ‘Negan’ formed.

Your final destination was your room. You figured it would also be empty but your room was a bit away, down the end of a hall few knew how to get too. You’d had more roaches as visitors than people. Your father had chosen it for you so the ‘common nobodies’ wouldn’t see you easily, another measure to keep you safe.

It also worked the other way as you round the corner and see a light coming from what used to be your room. The hall was lined with offices and storage rooms you knew you could dive into if someone appeared so you turned off your light and walked down the hall gingerly on your feet. You were now only a couple feet away from the door when you heard voices coming from the end of the hall, from what used to be your room.

“I still can’t believe they put this bitch here to keep an eye on us. That fucking redneck was an ass but atleast he didn’t pretend to be all fucking nice”

“It’s probably a play to get us to relax. They’ve got us locked in this factory and don’t give us nearly enough food, and they won’t let us go to the other settlements”

“We’re prisoners. They said they only wanted to lock up Negan but now we’re all starving.”

“Enough of your bitching.”

They went on to talk about how many people were on their side and their efforts to get weapons. They clearly had no idea you were listening. After all, what kind of idiot is gonna climb up over ten floors for no reason. Other than sentiment perhaps. It sounded like there were about four people in the room, but they spoke like they had a few under their influence. They were looking for weapons and a means to get back at ‘Rick and his posse’.

“We’ll bring them that bitch Carol’s head on a spike for them.”

“What about the bridge? We got people working there for food.”

“And then what? They’re just gonna keep extorting us for slave labour or let us starve.”

You were so drawn in by their words that the door opening startled you. You charged from your spot into an open room, a storage closet of a sort. You knew it was too risky to close the door so you stood against the wall next to the door. They walked along the hall bantering loudly. You sidestepped deeper into the room, knocking something with your foot making a loud metal sound. The voices stopped and you instantly froze, holding your breath like your life depended on it. A light shun into the closet, then the other way.

“Probably just a rat” one of the voices spoke. “We can set some traps and stew it for dinner”.

They continued down the hall, their steps growing faint a minute or so later. The adrenaline began to subside and the pain from the recent strain on your leg made itself very apparent. You stepped out of the closet and walked down the hall to your old room. Maybe they left some evidence you could use to barter for your freedom.

You opened the door to your room, only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. Unlike the other rooms, your room hadn’t been completely ransacked. The mattress had been taken off the frame but the metal skeleton remained as well as the rug under your bed. Other than that it appeared empty. You turned on your torch to get a better view.

On your bed frame lay what had to be near a hundred dead wild flowers. Your breath caught in your throat at the site. You moved and sat on the bed frame, the metal sending a chill up your body. You placed a hand on the dry stems and something hit the ground with a thump. You moved to look under the bed as quick as you could, reaching under the bed you cut yourself on something sharp. You moved your torch on it and grabbed it again, this time from a less dangerous end.

Under the bed you pulled out the knife that had your name engraved on it. The metal shun bright in the light as if lovingly polished until it’s inevitable abandonment. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry until a tear fell onto the blade and began to fill the engraving.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

#AJ's Negan's Daughter AU #twd negan #negan fic #negan twd #negan the walking dead #the walking dead negan #negan x daughter reader #daughter reader #daughter x negan #daughter reader x negan #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd carol #carol peletier #the walking dead carol #twd laura

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pvremichigan · 3 years ago

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“Yeah... Yeah no, I understand...”

‘I’m sorry, ma’am, this is all we can offer. If we do not receive payment, your home will have to be foreclosed.’

The sounds of loud horns and engines echoed the city streets...

‘You have three years. That is more than enough time. It’s all I can legally give. Even then, I’m jumping through many loops to help you. My job is on the line, you cannot let me down.’

The noises seem to get louder the worse the stress gets.

“Yeah... Got it. Thank you, I’ll... See what I can do.”

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

“I’ve got an interview offer in New York.”

The other two in the room seemed nervous about the news. The taller girl approached the woman talking, holding her by the hand.

“Well... That’s amazing news. I say take it! We don’t get opportunities like this often!”

“I know, Pen, but what about-”

The taller girl gave a very gentle smile. There was fear behind her expression, but she tried to show excitement the best she could.

“I’ll take care of David. I can handle it. This is too big to pass up. We’ll be fine.”

The initial redhead shifted her weight anxiously, looking down with tired eyes. The bags under her eyes seemed heavy with stress and defeat.

“... First paycheck I get, I’m sending it to you two. Don’t let him touch it, it is for you to handle only. If I don’t get the job, I am coming straight home. Alright?”

The boy on the couch didn’t seem to listen. He looked angry, tense. As soon as the taller one nodded, the boy stood up and whipped the ash tray that was on the coffee table straight into the wall. After leaving a hole among the several other patched up holes on the wall, he stormed off upstairs. It was obvious he was getting out again, since the sound of the window slammed open. Albeit muffled, it seemed to cause the taller one to flinch.

“You take care of him, Penny. Don’t let him push you around. Please? I’ll be back soon... I promise.”

Penny teared up, everything becoming quite overwhelming. She brought the redhead into a hug, wishing her silent luck on her journey.

The phone rang.

Reaching into her small bag, the redhead grabbed the phone in a hurry and took a look at the number. Cursing to herself, she answered it with haste.

“Hello?” ‘Yes is this Ms... McIntyre?’ “Speaking.” ‘Hello, yes I’m calling just to give you a reminder about your interview today at 2:30? I hope your travels were safe, how are you handling the city so far?’ “Yes, I am on my way. It’s uh... Not a lie when they call it The City That Never Sleeps. A big change from home but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” ‘Good, I’m very glad to hear. So we will be seeing you at 2:30?’ “Yes, ma’am.” ‘Perfect, talk to you soon.’ “Yes, thank you so much. See you soon.”

After hanging up, ‘McIntyre’ took a quick glance at the time. 1:40. It was a long walk from the motel but she was almost there. 50 minutes. She had dressed properly, albeit uncomfortable in the outfit. Heels were NOT her thing and neither were skirts. Not to mention the damn makeup and the fucking bun she put her hair in. This was professional but it was honestly it was pretty embarrassing. This is not how she wants to be seen by people. No time to waste though, no time to overthink. This is for the job, nothing more.

The building had just been up ahead. All she had to do was make her way through the parking garage and head to the elevator. Easy enough. Stepping into the garage, the place grew darker. It was quite a change from being in the sun this whole time, her eyes took a moment to adjust. Within that moment, it seems she attracted some trouble.

The sound of a gun being clicked and pressed against her head had caused her to freeze. Gruff chuckles accompanied the clicks of the gun.

‘Looks like you’re goin’ somewhere. Ya look busy, so let’s make this quick. We were gonna jump ya but we decided we’d give a pretty lady like you a chance.’

One of the other men stood way too close to her, it really felt like he was sniffing her here and there. A grimace grew on her face. That same man trailed his hand down her arm, gripping her other shoulder to keep her still.

‘Grab the bag.’

The man touching her arm huffed, eyeing her with ill intent as he snatched the bag off her arm. She quickly bent her arm upwards to stop him from being able to rip it away from her.

The gunman growled in frustration, hitting her upside the head with the gun, causing her to hiss in pain and fall straight to the ground. The men had started to laugh at the fall, stepping on her bag. Oh no...

The skirt was getting dirty...

Oh she had enough.

They were too dumb to realize they should’ve stepped on her hand instead.

Lunging her hand into her bag, she was able to yank out her metal nunchucks and roll away enough to be able to stand back up. The gunman grew furious and agitated, taking aim as he had decided he had enough of this. He gave her a chance and she blew it. Nah, she wasn’t going to return the favor - she wasn’t giving them any chances.

She had also grown furious, smacking the nunchucks at his knuckles as soon as he took aim. The impact had caused the him to flinch and pull the trigger... The echo of the bang loudly bounced off the walls of the garage. Seems his aim was unlucky, as the man stepping on the bag had gotten badly grazed by the bullet. The bagman shouted out, clutching his knee where he had gotten injured. The imbalance caused him to fall over, freeing the bag from underneath his show. After the gunman had shot the gun off, she whipped her arm around to bash him in the head, using the momentum to get the neck. With another swing continuing the movement, she aimed for the gut. The man lunged over in pain, giving McIntyre the perfect opportunity to grab his head and bash it right against her knee. One down, the other to go. Playing it safe, she knew she didn’t want to get too dirty. With a simple but harsh kick to the back of his head, both men were knocked out officially. The woman was able to take a breather, leaning against the wall as she panted in exhaustion. Most of it was due to her racing heart, adrenaline dying out slowly as she calmed herself. Looking down, she scowled at the end product. Dirt on her skirt, blood on her hands and head... Knees... Shoes.

God she really hopes nobody fucking saw that. Most people in the city don’t care anyways, but this was just not her lucky day. She PRAYS nobody saw that, distracting herself as she begins dusting off her skirt and legs, picking her bag back up and tucking the nunchucks back inside. She didn’t look that strong, being a bit skinnier than she acted, but from experience, it’s all about technique. Still...

“What a sloppy fight... You assholes are ruining this one chance. I have an interview to get to...”

Her low mutters echoed in the vicinity, frustration in her sigh.

Why can’t she just be left alone...

@yesfxckyxu

#[[Pull the Trigger]];; ic #[[My Name is Mich.]];; Human V

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justcourttee · 5 years ago

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And They Were Roommates-Pt 2

Marinette woke to the piercing ring from her alarm clock. With a groan, she blindly hit her nightstand, trying to find the snooze.

“Marinette! If you snooze, you’ll be late again! Professor Brookes may like you, but she did threaten that one more tardy to the meetings and you’ll be fired!”

Tikki pulled at a strand of Marinette’s hair trying to pull the girl from her bed.

“Tikki it’s just five more minutes, please!”

“Dupen-Chang, Tikki wanted to wake you the nice way but if you don’t get your ass out of bed in the next five seconds, I will dump a cup of ice down your shirt.”

Marinette’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up, scowling at the sight of Chloe and Tikki high-fiving.

“I hate you two.”

“Mhm, now go shower. You look and smell like you just wrestled with pigs.”

Chloe’s nose scrunched up as she threw a towel at the girl. Marinette rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh, trudging to the bathroom.

“Chloe, will you pick me out an outfit?”

“Already done, now hurry up!”

Turning on the water, Marinette noticed the dark ink covering her skin. A beautiful robin stretched from her wrist to her elbow, every last detail drawn with care. She sucked in a sharp breath as she allowed her fingers to trace over the artwork. As she stepped into the shower, her eyes never left the picture, scared her soulmate would erase it before she had a chance to photograph it for later inspiration.

Turning off the water, she wrapped her towel around her body tightly before racing back to her room, almost diving for her phone. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth from the pure concentration of capturing the art at the right angle. Once she was sure it was photographed properly, she fumbled for the pen on her nightstand.

“I love waking up to your artwork, would you mind leaving it for the day?”

She stared intently at her hand, waiting for his response that couldn’t seem to come fast enough.

“Dupen-Chang! If you want a ride, you better be dressed in the next five minutes!”

Chloe's voice echoed through the apartment, snapping Marinette out of her trance. Within three minutes, she pulled on the dress Chloe had laid out and managed to pull her hair back in a messy bun, sticking a pen through it just in case. She was working on the heels when she finally felt the tingle.

“Sorry Angel, important interview today. I’ll leave you something tomorrow though. Promise”

Marinette let out a defeated sigh, but tried to push it out of her mind. After all, she couldn’t be mad, he had a life too, one he didn’t want to publicize and she could respect that. Putting the final touches on her outfit, she grabbed her purse, leaning down beside the dollhouse to allow Tikki to fly in.

“Dupen-Chang!”

“Coming Chloe!”

Tikki let out a giggle as Marinette rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Ms. Dupen-Chang, can I see you in my office please?”

Marinette internally groaned as she plastered a smile on her face. She picked up her design book, throwing a cover over the mannequin before she turned to walk toward the professor's office.

“What can I do for you Professor Brookes?” Her smile was sickly sweet as she stared down at the woman.

“Sit, please.” Brookes didn’t even look up from her paperwork, just made a vague gesture to the seat in front of her desk. After several minutes, she finally looked up, making a show of clicking her pen shut.

“Do you know why I called you in Marinette?”

“Because you were lonely and wanted someone to talk to?”

She offered the woman a pity smile, but Professor Brookes was not having it.

“You have refused every offer I have arranged for you in the past three months. Marinette, what did I tell you when you accepted this position in my work field for young entrepreneurs?”

Marinette let out a sigh, her eyes falling to the ground.

“It’s easier to work under a big name and break away than it is to build your own empire. But Professor-”

“Exactly. So tell me, why exactly have you refused not only Giorgio Armani and Karl Lagerfeld, but now I hear that Audrey Bourgeois has been after you for years now and you’ve refused her as well!”

Marinette bit her lip, trying her best to level her breathing before she snapped at the woman.

“With all due respect Professor Brookes, they don’t want my name on the designs. I can’t make a name for myself if everyone else is taking credit for my work. If there’s any way you can find me an internship under someone who will let me be myself I’d be more than glad to take them on.”

It was Professor Brookes turn to sigh as she slipped off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re a talented girl Marinette, nobody is denying that. But you just don’t understand how the business world works. This work field is for entrepreneurs who will listen to my advice, not do everything in their power to ignore it.”

“I understand if you want me to relinquish my position Professor Brookes. I’m sure you could fill it easily.”

The professor looked up, her face unreadable as she stared down the designer. Several minutes passed and a sinking feeling began to settle in Marinette’s gut.

“Ms. Dupen-Chang, what you’re asking me to do is to find you a sponsor. They’ll put their good name on the line for you, allow you to take credit for your work, and in return you’ll give them a portion of your profit. That’s anywhere from 5%-25% depending on how the sponsor operates. If I do this for you, you are going to have to up your production levels from one outfit a week to three, which means you’ll need to be here for three days instead of just one. Is this something you really want?”

Marinette’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt her body flood with relief.

“It is. I really want a sponsor.”

“Then it’s settled, I’ll need you to complete a portfolio including pictures of models wearing your designs and at least three test designs that I can send to possible contenders. The test designs allow them to view your work up close and personal to look at stitchwork and such. I’m assuming you already have models in mind seeing as you live with two of them?”

Marinette nodded, her heart feeling as if it were about to explode with joy.

“I won’t let you down Professor Brookes.”

The designer stood hastily, practically running back to her workstation.

“I’ll need all of that before the first day of spring semester Marinette!”

The professor's voice echoed in her ears but she was too stunned to care. She was getting a real chance and that meant she had to put everything into the next month. Sitting on the spinning chair, Marinette pulled out her phone to view the picture she had taken earlier. Admiring his sketch, an idea began to form in her head as she cleared the workstation, laying out her various pencils.

After a couple minutes of sketching, her phone began to buzz. At first she ignored it, trying to focus on her design, but after the third time, she finally gave in.

“Chloe, I’m sorry, I know I said 3 but it’s looking like 5 or 6 instead, I finally got the break I was hoping for.”

“Well that’s great Dupen-Chang, but you see, I have a guy here responding to the ad placed this morning and I just wanted to ask if we could interview him without you.”

Marinette sat down her pencil, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. She distinctly remembered emailing Julia for the spot, but she never sent in the ad. So either Julia’s newest boyfriend was applying or someone from the news team was.

“He’s not dating Julia is he?”

“I don’t know, let me ask. Hey! You! You’re not dating Julia, right? No? He said no.”

Marinette shook her head as she looked up at the ceiling, trying her best to send apologies to the boy.

“So?”

“Go ahead Chloe, that’s assuming you haven’t chased him off already. I’ll be ready to go in an hour.”

“Great, you’re the best. Congrats on your break, I’ll order some food from that italian restaurant near our apartment to celebrate.”

Before Marinette could even respond, the line went dead, leaving her to stare at her sketchbook in slight despair. The poor guy would be scared senseless before she even got a chance to meet him. With a sigh, she returned to her sketch, determined to finish at least one design before she left for the day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Marinette waved bye to Professor Brookes before she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. She had texted both Chloe and Adrien several times, but neither came to pick her up, something she was going to lay into them for.

“Hey guys what’s the deal-”

She stopped in her tracks as her eyes couldn’t process the sight in front of her. Adrien was playing Ultimate Mecha Strike V, but that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem lied in the fact that some guy she had never seen before was battling him using her lucky controller.

“Hey Mari! Meet Damian Al Ghul, our new roommate!”

The guy stood up, offering his hand, but Marinette’s eyes weren’t focused on his. Instead, she watched in horror as he tossed her control backwards onto the couch, the force sending it flying to the floor.

“Damian huh?” She pushed past his outstretched hand to pick up her controller, examining it for any cracks or chips in the paint job.

“Yes?” He moved his hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck, trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

Marinette sent a sour look at Adrien who only shrugged.

“Damian is a double major as well Mari, history and business, sound familiar?”

“I hear you are quite competent in both subjects.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, setting her controller on the coffee table before standing to face the man.

“I’m more than ‘competent’, I excel in both with a perfect 4.0 GPA.”

Damian scoffed sending a wave of fury through the girl. Just who did this guy think he was? Adrien watched the interaction, amusement clearly written on his face.

“So Mari, you want to play the winner of this round?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to study. My first final is on Tuesday, just ask Chloe to leave my food in the microwave, I’ll get to it later.”

Without another word, she marched back to her bedroom, shutting the door harder than she meant to. She pulled out her sketchbook, opening it to her unfinished design from earlier. Her pencil hovered over the page as she tried to remember the feeling she had earlier.

“Tikki, how did I manage to let him get under my skin in less than five minutes?”

She let out a groan as she fell backwards onto her bed as the kwamii let out a giggle.

“He’s got a unique personality, very straightforward Marinette. He almost reminds me of Chloe when I first met her.”

“That has to be it. PTSD from when I was 13 and Chloe was still a menace. I just don’t think I’m going to be able to get back into this design tonight.”

“That’s okay Marinette, let’s work on the last essay for your Grad school application!”

Marinette sat up to reach for her laptop, pulling up her browser that never closed. The Metropolis University website was still up, her application reading 95% complete. She clicked on the textbox and attempted to zoom in on the final question that had been bugging her for a week now.

‘How will you use your education to benefit the world?’

“Why does my degree have to benefit the world Tikki? I just want to do something I love, can’t that just be enough?”

“You’ll think of something Marinette, you always do!”

“Yeah,” the girl huffed out a puff of air, leaning forward to reread the question for the hundredth time. “I always do.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Around 10:30, Chloe stumbled into their room, tearing through her closest.

“Marinette, come clubbing with me and Adrikins! He needs a distraction for the night or two if you know what I mean.”

She let out a giggle as she pulled out her favorite dress, not even bothering to shut the bedroom door before throwing off her top.

“Chloe! We’re living with another guy now!”

“Yeah yeah Mari, you’re the only straight one here so there’s no problem!”

“Just because you’re not straight, doesn’t mean he can’t oogle at you.”

Chloe stood up, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the girl.

“Oogle? How old are you? 75?”

Marinette rolled her eyes as she stood up to pull her dress over her head. With her help, Chloe finished touching up her makeup.

“So you gonna come with us?”

Marinette shook her head at her, earning a pout from the blonde.

“Boo, you and Damian are both lame.”

Picking up her clutch, she opened it long enough for Pollen to fly in before shutting it tight.

“You losers have fun tonight staying home.”

“I think I’ll just barricade myself in here instead.”

“Whatever.”

Adrien appeared in their doorway, equally tipsy as he offered Chloe his hand. Marinette watched with worry as they made their way to the front door, both stumbling over their feet at every other step.

“Are you guys taking an Uber at least?”

“Yes mom!” They both looked at each other in shock before dissolving in a fit of laughter. Marinette rolled her eyes, waving goodbye as they slammed the front door shut.

With a sigh, she made her way to the microwave, hitting the reheat button for her pasta inside.

“Is that an every weekend occurrence?”

Marinette jumped, whipping around to find Damian leaning against the kitchen counter, his face expressionless.

“How about next time a warning like ‘Hey Marinette’ or ‘Whatcha doing?”

He didn’t reply, just remained stoic as he waited for her answer.

“No, it's not, just an occurrence whenever Adrien gets his heart broken. So try a monthly thing.”

He nodded in response, watching her carefully. Marinette shifted under his gaze, trying to keep her cool and not melt into a puddle. He may be a jerk, but he was still a hot jerk. The ding of the microwave severed the tension between them as she opened the drawer beside her, pulling out a fork. Sliding out her pasta, she didn’t even check to see if it had heated all the way through before she rushed past Damian and back to the safety of her room.

He didn’t follow, but she heard him let out a thoughtful hum before he made his way back to his room, shutting his door. Letting out a sigh, she stirred through her pasta, reaching for the pen beside her bed.

“How’d your interview go?”

She was halfway through her pasta when she felt the tingling.

“Aced it. How was your day Angel? I apologize for not writing sooner.”

She rolled her eyes at his formalness, trying not to let her smile get the best of her.

“I finally got my break. I’ll be getting a sponsor!”

Finishing the last bite of her pasta, Marinette weighed the risk of running into Damian again if she went to put up her dishes. Deciding it was too great, she set the plate on her nightstand, mentally preparing herself for the backlash she would get from hungover Chloe in the morning.

“That’s fantastic, I hope it works in your favor habibti.”

A shiver ran down her spin as her cheeks flushed red. She had used google translate a few times of the names he gave her and was surprised to find the Arabic traces. When she asked him about it, he just brushed it off to being from his mother’s side, never bringing it up again. Picking up her pen, she etched a small Robin on her arm, leaving a space beside it to write;

“Your pictures always inspire my designs. I can’t wait to see what you leave me tomorrow.”

A minute hadn’t even passed before he responded.

“If you wash your arm off now, you won’t have to wait.”

Her heart picked up pace as she rushed into the bathroom, scrubbing furiously at her arm. She returned to her bed, toweling off the few wet spots as she watched in awe as pen strokes tickled her skin.

“He’s so talented Marinette!”

Marinette smiled as she watched his delicate art slowly cover her arm, her mind drifting from the stress of the day.

“He really is Tikki, he really is.”

Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ladybug-182 @fusser90 @thestressmademedoit @dast218 @thezestywalru @jardimazul @olynix @dorkus-minimus @xahriia @kris-pines04 @urbanpineapplefarmer @moonlightstar64 @itsmeevie01 @little-lady-bird @alexandriamw @lozzybowe @emmdaenovice @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @jessigurl-design @aegyobutpsycho2 @stark-morgoona @kris-pines04 @rebecarojas07

#daminette #maribat #roommates

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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years ago

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Hello babes!!! OMG, today has been a long week! A wonderful, dream big come true week! HARRY IS SOLO ON THE COVER OF VOGUE! Also, I have a new installment of Tryst for you all based on this 👆photo! Without further ado, I give you...

Scotland!

It's the pose that does it.

She's been so, mon dieu she hates the moral judgment of the word. But it remains the right one here, in any language. Soo good, since she decided he couldn't give her what she needed, or maybe wasn't ready to, or didn't see her like that. Nothing more than a flying fuck when he got itchy on the road and she was available to scratch.

But here she was, with his encompassing form around her back and his arm causally slung across her collarbone and she could barely keep her lip from between her teeth to smile.

Smile for the camera, Helene. He'd whispered in her ear and she was thankful for their blustery setting the clothing covering her chill bumps.

All day, She'd been trying to keep dry and get some candid shots to go into the vault. Sometimes she wondered why they paid her to take so many images, most of them, a greater preportion than usual, just lived in her computer or Jeff's computer never to be used.

Would they ever release them? To the utter delight and meltdowns of this man's rabid fans.

She gets it, Helene does. What they see in him, she sees it herself often. And she sees more, his dick has made her soul smile on more than one occasion. It didn't start with these libidinous thoughts, it wasn't one of those moments where he was a living lighthouse or hedonism personified. It's the first scene with the imaginary fish and he's having a bit or trouble. He's also cold and wet. Which are two sensations he doesn't love, but seems to include in every damn piece of art he makes. He's throwing the little bean bag onto the rock and it's not meant to be gentle exactly, but he seems irritated, not concerned as you would be for a suicidal fish when you yourself are suicidal. His character at least. Thank god. But his physical discomfort is intruding on his ability to act right now; he's barely holding on. He loses his balance while frustrated and falls into the water, cursing.

Helene will not laugh.

She hides her giggles while they change him. He got his Gucci denim outfit uncomfortably wet. Why would you chose that outfit to go to a watery death? She is overthinking. As always.

He's ready to go again, fresh Gucci down to his drawers, and by the 10th take, he's in the swing.

When Harry nails it, He gives the director and Helene the biggest grin and she's charmed. The lights have turned on and the fog has lifted. He shines.

He is finished with this set up and Helene has just put her gear away. Harry brushes past her to get around a rock and presses an affectionate kiss to the easily accessible top of her head.

"Thanks for coming, Tiny. Know it's cold."

Helene smiles at him, and somebody else with a camera, someone not her, clicks their picture.

It's always weird when she is the subject. She's pretty sure she has more photos with Harry, selfies at least than with any boyfriend she has had, in her life, which flashes before her eyes, with a highlight reel of her beneath Harry, while he turns her around towards the camera.

The arm that was across her scapula, turns her like a top and her stomach flutters with the motion. His motion. His arm has come across her clavicle, like it did in LA, and she comes together like the place in between those bones, a shallow place where her heartbeat is thumping visibly.

She's thrumming.

Not that there is a damn thing she can do about it. He can do about it. Anybody can, they have so much work to do.

The quiver in her chest and bones and betwixt her legs stays with her all day. Through lunch with all the people she's missed on their break, around the lunch Harry's had cooked for them, with all the little flourishes he likes. All the different food needs accommodated, hospitality on show. It's a wonderful midday after a bitter morning, the sun's even peaked through. The whole group brims with happinesss. Helene and her table included, she laughs and kisses Molly's cheek, she's so cute.

She stays away from Harry though, through at least theee set ups, one not involving him where she could see his intention to hover and smell her pent scent. So, she puts distance, physically between them all day, especially when they move on to the shoot at the docks.

She's taking far away shots. It was easier to control the pulse at her center when he was in the loose jumpsuit. Now in the tight sweater vest, where he looks like some movie star from a bygone era, she's struggling.

It's sending her. Fly her to the moon.

So she keeps her distance and captures him from afar. She'd been doing so well.

Still is! She reminds herself.

The day is long because of her longing, but Helene makes it through.

"You coming to the pub." She jumps a bit at his breath near her ear, her hair is stirred by its breeze. She's surprised, she can usually feel his approach 10 paces off.

"No, need my bed." She begs off. She's begging he doesn't press, with those puppy dog eyes and dimples he knows how to wield.

"Really?" He pouts. "Need your company." He insists.

Oh, he's reached for the big ammunition, he's used everything in his arsenal, he's even touching her arm. He turns her again and she knows she going to say yes before he bites his lip and says, "please."

"Qui." She exhales. She'd like to qualify the sigh as resigned, but it's full of breath and melodic.

"Yes!" He presses a kiss to her forehead and squeezes her before he wanders off to gather troops.

So much for distance.

The pub is lovely, if their wine selection a bit limited. She can see why Harry picked this for his fictional island. He has excellent taste and this is so picturesque and any number of stories, real and imagined, could be contained in its Walls.

He tastes excellent.

He's across the room holding court. He's a little drunk, and he's just thrown his head back and she can remember the shape of his Adam's Apple on her tongue, and the taste. God the taste of his skin, especially after a show. Her lips would be raw from the salt afterwards, and dual thirsts would greet her in the morning light. Water with something more mineral from his skin.

Helene gulps her wine and tries to tune back in to the English around her. The mix of accents and the still difficult language is enough for her to have to get her mind out of the gutter intentionally to follow along.

Not the gutter, Harry's room.

She's squinting and translating something someone has said in her head and wondering how many times somebody has refilled her glass when another intoxicant fills her senses.

Harry's hand is on top of her head and then sliding down the back of her hair. It's exactly like he does when his dick is in her mouth. But he's usually not grinning like that.

"Tiny!" He's so jovial when drunk. "This seat taken?"

There is no seat. It's the end of the booth, there is a small amount of brown leather, and Harry wedges himself onto it and picks up her legs, uncrosses them and lays them over his own to make space. He's solved his own problem and worsened hers.

She quirks a brow at him and he just kisses it like it's totally normal she's basically on his lap among all their colleagues. Only in this group he's made close as family would this not look risqué. Only with him. She's thinks only Sarah and Mitch know about them. Know that the 'know' each other. And they aren't on this shoot.

Nobody is looking at them funny, so she had better stop staring at him.

She tears her eyes away, like the wrapper of a condom, and goes back to translating.

It's useless when he starts running his nails along her thighs. She puts her hand on his to stop him, but he just grips her thigh instead.

It is not a step in the right direction. It's only leads one direction for her thoughts. To the way his huge hands look on her tiny body. The way his palm can cover her whole stomach and his fingers reach her honey pot still. She has photographic evidence. Between that thought and the wine, she needs to leave.

"Where are you going?" He looks very sweet, except the glint in his eye. She narrows hers at him.

"My room."

"Already?" He pouts.

"Qui."

"I can't really leave yet."

"I didn't ask you to."

He tilts his chin. "Maybe not out loud." He whispers just under her breath.

She exhales.

"Will you wait up for me?" He looks up through his lashes.

She can't even answer but her head moves up and down like a teabag into hot water in the morning.

She's boiling.

He grins. And leans up to kiss her cheek. "What room?" He murmurs. She knows he could find out if he wanted, but it would also alert the front desk, which might make it to the media, or worse, a fan with Twitter.

"24" she whispers through the veil of her hair. Pulls away from his tractor beam eyes and smiles at the table. Gives a few hugs and a big wave.

The inn is small, quaint. She's on the second floor, which is the top floor, waiting. Helene's kept her clothes on. The same outfit she has had on all day. Jeans, loose, and a t shirt, her dad trainers. Should she change? She tries to remember what Harry had on at the pub. He had changed a fair few times throughout the day.

She think he was wearing a hoodie, his name emobossed on the breast in some language or another, Gaelic?, and loose light jeans. Dirty vans adorning his feet.

She hopes she ends the night in his jumper, or wakes up and slipes it over her shoulders.

The hours slip away and her eyes have kettlebells attached to them. She's just about to take care of single girl tasks, washing her face and putting on the extra lock when the knock comes.

"I was about to go to bed without you." She leans against the door jamb. She's not purposely jutting her hip. She's not!

"Ahh," he teases, touches the smudges below her droopy eyes and pulls her blonde hair. "You tired."

"Qui, it's been a long day." She breathes.

"What?" He laughs and pushes her into the room with his hips, "your call time was hours after mine!" He flashes his big green eyes.

"Maybe, but I don't have your stamina." She counters. Harry the athlete raises a brow at her statement.

"I've never had a problem with your endurance."

He let's that lie there, and she can tell both of their mind's are roving over memories of late nights turned into early morning mapping flesh.

"No, I suppose you are right." She goes easy when he pulls her forward and his mouth slides against her like a skeleton key into a waiting lock. She expects the kiss to escalate, but maybe they are both a little tired, exhausted from a long day, while longing for an extended night. His kiss remains deep, full of tingling tongue touches, but doesn't get faster, her back doesn't hit the wall, and there are no stops where she is pressed against or onto furniture.

He has some embedded geography of hotel rooms, because he navigates the suite like the globetrotter he is. They are both fully dressed, and the squeezes and rubs over the fabric are exciting, reminiscent of juvenile contained eagerness. When her knees hit the back of the mattress, Helene decides the adults need to take over and hikes the tucked in button down up and over his head, forgoing the buttons.

The black ink on his golden skin is a trail familiar to her fingers tips and she follows it down, down to the leaves framing his joyful path. She can feel the pressure of his erection on the slide mechanism of his trousers and against the strained teeth tethered together on his zipper. If it wasnt metal, it would unzip itself against the force. She sighs when she pulls him out. His dick makes her so proud every time. She can't imagine what it's like to carry it around.

No wonder he is so self confident, the word cocksure occurs to her and she giggles.

"Are you laughing at me?" He looks down and she's charmed, for all his assuredness, he's still vulnerable. It's why he is so endearing.

"Non," she's got him naked and guides him back to the head aboard. He looks more tired than her suddenly, he had a bigger day, job. She'll keep up the inversion of the evening, she can recall no other time together where she had clothes on while he was naked. "I was just think how much I appreciate your dick."

"And it made you laugh?" Oh he's still a little offended.

Helene will have to make it up to him. She ruts against his lap and takes stock.

He's half mast. Which is a rare state for him, in her experience. She nuzzles into his lap and laps from his base to tip. She can feel the plumping under her tongue and decides that's not quite adequate.

She can fit him all the way like this. It won't last, so she takes advantage and mentally pats herself on the back as she seems to expand her capacity as he swells. Once she can't muzzle her nose into his patch of hair anymore she pulls off with a gasp and looks up to his panting face.

"I wasn't laughing at you," she nods towards his bobbing shafts. "In my head, I thought how I'm proud of your dick, and decided it was the wrong word. But the right feeling." Helene put him back in her mouth with her tongue extended out, and stroked him from her throat to the squirming tip.

He's chuckling now and she smiles with her eyes at him. "You're proud of my dick?" His dimples are the size of salad plates.

"Qui, aren't you?" She flashes her brows while She straddles his lap. She's not sure she's satisfied her mouth hunger for him, but they have all night.

"Well...." He blushes, which makes her giggle. She's fully naked on his bare dick and he's blushing.

"Know you are." She whispers in his ear. "You have every reason to be."

"Mmmhmmm." He could be responding to her statement or her rocking over his lap. If one of them tilted just so....

"You've been cocky!" She emphasizes that by moving her hips to an almost position. "Enough before."

He looks just a touch frustrated.

"Should I show you how proud I am?" She slips the tip in, just the tip. Not quite to the popping point. It's a tantalizing suspension, just rocking while his eyelashes flutter. "Show you why you deserve to be cocky?"

"Mmmmm," he hums, vision now between their legs, mesmerized. "Please." He breathes and looks at her.

"Do we need a condom?" She's not sure how active he's been.

"Not for me." He grabs her hips and tries to push her down, as tantalizing as the pop of a champagne bottle, the moment of jubilant anticipation.

"Better safe than sorry!" she dismounts and grabs a skin. He breathes a breath like he is frustrated.

"Oh, Cherie, ne t'inquiète pas!" She teases and strokes firmly, guiding his foreskin over the sensitive tip. "We're only beginning." He helps her roll it down and lifts her thighs to press against the headboard on either side of him. She's glad it's padded. Harry's done waiting, or being gentle and shy. She can't even acknowledge the pop of their joining she loves, she's too busy catching up to the rough thrust of his pelvis up and into her own. "Merde!"

"Mmmmhmmmm." He hums and catches her lips with his own, a net to butterflies. It's soft, slow and sensual, in opposition to the bruising hold he has on her hips. He can handle her with one of his big hands. The other has found its place on her sensitive nipples. This escalated so fast she thinks the ending will follow the beginning with no middle to enjoy. She was hoping to fuck him slow.

Her hands slide down the headboard, it's coarse beneath her hands in comparison to the hair that fills her hands in the next moment. She pulls his neck back a little roughly. "Wait."

"For?" He keeps working her over his dick and it's compelling, and she loves it, but he's showing her why her makes her proud, and that wasn't tonight's lesson.

"I want to come."

"Good, that's what I want to." He hits her spot unerringly. And she's nearly convinced.

"No, non, on your tongue." She has to forcibly take herself off him. She lifts her knees and places her hands on his shoulders to hoist herself up. It's a favorable arrangement, her legs as long as his torso. "Allez." She suggests and his answer is a smile and the extension of his tongue right up her slit.

Helene has to grab the headboard to stay upright. She knew she was on the way. But how close she was to her journey is even clearer when his hands draw her ass cheeks apart and he's spreading her wetness over both holes while manipulating her clit with his tongue.

When he fits his mouth over her hood, creates suction and licks while fitting two fingers inside her separated by just inches of skin accessing both holes, she clenches without prologue. "Fuck." She rides his face until her orgasm has ridden out its welcome and he pulls his fragrant hand out to aid its twin in holding her steady until she's clutching the headboard and coming against his tongue again. Her wriggling at the over sensitivity only aiding his quest for number two.

She slides down his body slow and she's done, until she remembers her intention when his dripping shaft, wet with her and leaking a few drops for himself, prods her ass. She was gonna run this show, swing her hips like a pendulum so he'd enter a trance like state while inside her, the suspended animation of ecstasy. Helene needed to come so she would be calm enough to do it. To hypnotize him, slow and sweet.

She just needs to control the tempo, bang out a rhythmic unhurried beat on his hips.

It only takes a minor shift in alignment to throw them off their orbit. Send his mercury into retrograde with her pussy. She slides over the tip with ease, she's wet enough that she doesn't even have to work him in like normal. Though it still prickles her nerves with that familiar addictive burn she's only had with him and a few others. Those that pushed her boundaries. She's a globetrotter when she fucks Harry though. Her exhale would be loud if his groan wasn't louder.

"Fuck, Helene!" He looks down again and she decides now that she has given him dinner, he needs a show. Time to mesmerize him.She flexes her pelvis, rounding back and holds the headboard hard to find her beat. It's a slow jam, all the flavor of a samba. She's got a circle like a Ferris wheel and he's stuttering her name like he's afraid of heights but loving the ride.

"Again." Helene demands, her head against his forehead.

"What?" Harry's staring at her motion hard, distracted. Helene stops, she wants his attention, his eyes, his mouth, his dick, every inch of him focused on her, including those inside her. She rides the circle to the top, just his tip inside, and hovers. No other passengers are getting on, she just wants him to admire the view. She clenches and knows he can see it when he shivers.

Helene uses her nose to nudge his gaze up. He looks up, down, up, again. She pulls out enough to nearly unseat him and his fingers dig into her hips. "What?" He repeats.

"My ñame." She looks him in the eye and presses her panting mouth to his while she slides all the way down, his pubic hair against her swollen clit. "Say my name."

He breathes it out, like a prayer, "Helene!" While she takes them to the top again. "Helene!" He shouts in exhalations when she slams down to his pelvis harder. "Helene!" She swings back up slow, and drops like they've found themselves on a rollercoaster.

By now her name is a chant, "Helene, Helene, helene, fuck Helene!" He's squeezing and staring and licking her lips sloppily and she can tell he doesn't know if he should stop her, try to help her along so they can get off together, or just cum.

He looks desperate to finish.

So she stops, and he looks frantic. "Baby, please!"

Helene shrugs, kisses him and grinds herself against him inside on her spot and outside on begging pleasure zone until she's almost there. She squeezes him rhythmically to keep him ready.

She's almost there. They can hop off this ride together now. So she starts the ascent to the top again, slow circles until he's panting and chanting again, and then it's a free fall ride for them both.

Helene loses her stomach and screams his name in harmony with his chorus of hers.

Their sweaty foreheads rest together, until he is chuckling.

"Quoi?" She catches her breath enough to ask.

"I was just thinking, I definitely won't need a photo to remember this one!"

She feels proud, but she knows there is an image he's forgetting, one that will remind her of this Scottish adventure forever.

Months later, they've found themselves together, like together together, when she comes across it. She posts it, with a longing thank you.

When Harry gets home from set, he's smiling like a Cheshire Cat. "You trying to tell me something?" He shoves his phone at her with the open Instagram.

Helene shrugs. She's feeling proud, even prouder than she felt a year ago.

And she wants to show him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tryst #Scotland #Harry styles smut

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

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Another angel on earth (Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist]

Summary: You were the daughter of Lucifer but had never met him. God decided to keep you in heaven but your birthday was approaching which meant that you were finally able to make your own decisions. You had always dreamed of visiting earth & that was exactly what you were going to do.

Words: 3,386

Warnings: language (what’s new), God being an asshole (no offense), naïve reader but pls accept it for the sake of this story, fluff, (Y/A) = your age, (Y/F/O) = your favorite outfit, (Y/E) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were (Y/N), an angel in heaven, the daughter of Lucifer. You had never seen your father, though, because God told you that it would not be convenient. Honestly, you had never been too eager about meeting your actual dad. He was the devil, to say the least. God & a lot of other angels had told you the story about why he got casted out of heaven. Did you really believe that story? You were not sure either. All you knew was that, no matter how much of a paradise heaven was, you hated being there.

“You know, (Y/N), it’s nothing new that someone tells me they don’t like heaven but trust me when I tell you: You’re not ready to face the harsh reality.” God managed to put that into your head from the very beginning on. Yet, you hated staying in heaven, you hated most of the angels there & most of all, you hated God. Yes, the oh so mighty God himself. You just did not understand how he wanted to keep you with him & the others at all costs. So you did all you could do at the moment: you stayed silent, watched humanity and waited. Humanity had always been fascinating to you. How they lived so freely without any restrictions whatsoever. You were jealous of them, wanting to live as carefree as most of them seemed.

There was one rule in heaven, one God decided was necessary for his followers. As soon as someone turned (Y/A), you were able to leave heaven, without having anyone to tell you any differently. You would reach that age in 2 days. Two more days until you were finally free. You could not wait anymore, it had been so long. God knew nothing about your plan yet. He assumed that, after everything, you would be staying up there your entire life. But because you were sick of all his rules, you decided you would be leaving right after your birthday. Would God hate you for doing so? Definitely. Did you care? Absolutely not.

You had always been a little different compared to the other angels. And while none of them ever said it to your face, you had overheard them saying it was because of your father. How the hell were you supposed to be like your dad when you had not even met him yet? You probably will never meet him. The devil himself was in hell, obviously, & you had no desire to pay hell a visit. The stories you had heard about that place were not exactly pleasing.

Finally, the time had come. A few more minutes & you would be able to leave heaven & start over. What city would you visit first? Paris seemed nice. Maybe London. Or maybe you would take a look around LA. Something had always felt right about LA, something you could not quite understand. Maybe you would after staying there for a couple days. Being an angel was nice, especially when you teleported yourself from one place to another. Suddenly, three angels & God stormed into your chambers. They scared you, they only ever rushed when it was something very important.

“You’re leaving?” God locked at you, shock written over his features.

“How do you know? It’s not like I ever talked about it…” you were so confused. You did not say anything purposely so how did he find out?

“I’m God, (Y/N).” he stated matter of factly. To that, you rolled your eyes.

“So? What do you wanna do? I’m (Y/A) now. You can’t tell me shit, big guy.” you were crazy for talking to THE God like that but on the other side, he knew your personality, he knew how you acted when you were mad. Yes, you were an asshole but you were totally fine with that.

“I thought you’d stay after everything. Where do you wanna go? There’s no other place for you, (Y/N), you belong here.” he pleaded. Why did he want you to stay so badly? Over the years, there had been quite a lot angels who decided to leave heaven. Why was it different with you?

“You & I both know that I don’t owe you an answer anymore. Why do you care anyway? Just let me leave for fuck’s sake.” the anger flashed through your eyes. Maybe they turned a tiny bit red but you were not sure. Your eyes only turned red when you were mad, REALLY mad.

“Language.” he mumbled. He did not like your use of words but that was something he never got out of you, it was part of you. “Yes, but you & I both know that I am God so I am going to find out.”

“I don’t give a shit. You can’t tell me anything anymore. I’m finally free & nobody will be able to stop me from going.” you stated confidently.

“Sure, go ahead. I know you’re going to come back on your knees, begging to live in heaven again & you know what? I will let you in. Tell you I knew better. Go, try it. See you soon then.” and with that, he and the other angels were gone.

“Asshole.” you whispered. You knew you were ready & God did not scare you with his words. It was time, your mind was set. The adventure was about to begin.

~arriving in LA~

The city was massive. Watching from up there & actually being there were two completely different things. So many people, huge buildings, so much to see. You absolutely loved it. The first thing you did after arriving was going shopping. Heaven’s attire was not really fitting for LA. In the shop, you had asked an employee to help you find the most basic outfit for this city. After about an hour, you left the shop with (Y/F/O) & you felt amazing. If this was what you had missed all this time then you truly had to curse God. Your gut feeling told you that this was the right decision & you spent the entire day just walking around, watching everything & everyone. Your advantage was that you had always been a bit more like humans than angels. Why? You had no idea but it came in handy, right now.

The sun started setting & that was when you realized that you still did not have any place to sleep for the night. Money was not a problem, heaven always had money. No one cared about it so you took a good amount before starting your trip. A hotel would do just fine. The only problem was that you did not have an idea where the next one was located. A phone would be nice but that was something that had not bothered you until now. The city was huge & there were tons of hotels but it was getting darker & darker & you had to admit that LA is quite scary late at night. There were more important things to think of right now, so back to the topic. You started walking further & further into the city, hoping a hotel would be near. Unfortunately, fate was not on your side. The streets became darker, the buildings terrifying. It was pitch black & it felt like you had been walking for hours. Wherever you were, it did not feel safe at all.

A few minutes later, you saw headlights approaching. They blinded your vision, only being used to the dark. Maybe you should ask the driver about a nearby hotel. What if the driver wanted to kill you, though? Your questions got answered by the black car, that got to a halt right in front of you. Your heart started racing. Yes, you were an angel but you were not sure if you could defend yourself. Your strength was not that good.

“Well, hello sweetheart. Aren’t you a bit young to walk these streets by your own at this time?” you were met with a man with dark hair who had a smirk on his face. Usually, you would run away but something about this stranger felt familiar so you just kept staying at the side walk.

“I’m (Y/A) & honestly, it wasn’t my intention to walk around here. I’m actually looking for a hotel nearby. Do you know where the next one is?” hearing your voice, you were kind of shocked. You sounded very uncertain, a bit nervous even. Your usual goofy & sarcastic self was gone.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” his voice was calming. It made you trust him without really knowing him. Weird.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N), hm, pretty name.” he hesitated for a bit, his face unreadable, before he spoke up again. “The next hotel is quite far away, you won’t be able to walk all the way. But I have an alternative. Hop in?” he looked at me suggestive. His dark eyes looked right into mine. Something about these eyes felt like…home? Maybe it was too late to think straight but you actually got inside his car. Tired of walking, tired of everything, you just wanted to get into a bed as soon as possible.

“Thank you. Hey, I never asked for your name.” your confidence started growing again, now that you were in this stranger’s car. To your defense, you genuinely did not feel like he was a stranger to you.

He darted his eyes from the road to take a look at you before he answered. “I’m Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.”

That made you snap your gaze toward him. People were weird. Why would anyone name their child Lucifer, like the devil? Okay, maybe his parents were responsible & it was just a stage name? But still, who would be okay with being called like the devil? Maybe he was just joking & wanted to make you laugh. So you did.

“The devil, huh? Funny enough, I’m actually the daughter of the devil.” you smirked. That was fun. It was hilarious when you could talk to a human being, tell them the truth & them just being clueless. You expected to hear him laugh, too, only to be met with an awkward silence. That made you look over to him. His face showed an emotion you could not quite read. Nothing else was said during the drive.

About 10 minutes later, we came to a halt in front of a very luxurious building. It looked like a night club. The hotels you knew definitely did not look like this but you left it uncommented. Without saying anything, the man exited the car, waiting for you to do the same. You actually felt bad for making him uncomfortable. It was not you intention, at all.

“Hey…Um, about earlier…I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have said this. It was meant to be a joke. Sorry if I crossed a line.” you looked at him only to be faced with his back. He then turned around.

“It’s nothing, really. Just…got me thinking. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It was probably very weird & scary to be in a car with a stranger who doesn’t say a thing.” his smile looked forced but you still managed to shoot him back a real one.

“Thanks for driving. Where’s the hotel?”

“Actually, right here.” he turned toward the big neon sign that showed the letters “LUX”.

“Not to be rude but it looks more like a strip club.”

“That’s because it is one.” he smiled at you, this time a real smile.

“Now��s the time where I run for my life or what?” you laughed. Every normal human being would be scared as shit but not you. As you said, you felt safe in Lucifer’s presence. Maybe it was the fact that you always imagined your dad to be like that. Maybe it was the fact that he had the same name, you were not sure.

Entering the building, you were met with darkness everywhere. For a strip club, it sure was empty. Suddenly, someone grabbed you from behind & you could feel cold metal against your throat. Before you even had time to process what was happening you heard someone shout.

“STOP IT MAZIKEEN!.” for a second, you thought you could sport two red dots in the darkness but there was a knife attached to your throat. You clearly were not thinking straight. Light surrounded you & the grip on you loosened. Turning around, you saw a woman who looked badass (you had to give her that) & freaking scary.

“Who’s this? Isn’t she a bit too young for you?” she quirked an eyebrow.

“This girl was lost & on the search for a hotel & I didn’t wanna let her wander around alone, Maze.” Lucifer was more serious now.

“So you decided it would be a great idea to bring her here?” Maze definitely did not like you.

“Maybe I should go…” your voice was small.

“No! You’re not going out there alone again. Do you have an idea how dangerous LA can be for someone like you?” protecting you was not his job yet he felt the need to do so.

The three of you moved over to the bar where Maze offered you some sort of alcohol.

“I’m actually fine with water, thanks.” you smiled slightly.

“Boring.” she muttered.

Bringing you your water, she put a scotch in front of Lucifer. After that, she left the two of us alone.

“Tell me, what brings you here? Where are your parents?” he almost sounded concerned but maybe you were imagining things.

“Well, I ran away from home. I wasn’t really happy with my living conditions & with my…family. I decided it was time to explore the world a bit. LA is my first stop.” you took your words carefully. Not wanting to spill too much.

“So you’re telling me that you left your family behind, at (Y/A)? Without anything?”

“They were assholes. They wanted to keep me locked up for my entire life. I saw a chance & took it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It actually is but who am I to judge, right?” he let out a short laugh. “You know, my family threw me out so I think I kinda know how it feels like.” he took a big sip of his scotch, his face grimacing just slighty.

“Sorry to hear that. I don’t know if you can really say family because I have never met my dad, neither my mom. I just lived with a couple of people, assholes to be exact.” that made him laugh out loud. Why were you even telling him so much about yourself? He was a stranger, he did not feel like one but he was one still.

Your conversation went on for a little longer until you yawned & Lucifer realized that you must feel incredibly tired. He took you the elevator & after a short ride, you walked into an apartment that looked like a billionaire lived there. Lucifer led you to a sperate room, a guest room you assumed & told you he would be just a few rooms away if you needed him. He closed the door & you were alone again. Walking over to the bed, you noticed that you were not even tired anymore. Thinking Lucifer already went to sleep, you silently opened the door to the rest of the apartment. This place was huge & you wanted to take a look at it. That was until you saw the big terrace attached to the apartment. Walking over, your thoughts started wandering off. The cool breeze hit you & you started thinking about everything that had happened today. The conversation you had with Lucifer in his car was repeating itself over & over. What a coincidence that he was actually named Lucifer. He promised you that this was his real name & frankly, you believed him. Imagine he would be your dad, haha. Too bad that your father was in hell. Today, you realized that you were not unhappy in heaven, you were just desperate for a father figure. Why had God never let you meet him? Why had everyone always told you he was the bad guy? Even if he was…he was your dad.

Suddenly, a figure appeared right next to you & you were startled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing out here? Didn’t you say you were tired, sweetheart?” he looked at view. LA was pretty at night, at least from up here.

“Yeah, I was. Guess my mind is just a bit fucked up, you know?” you forced a small smile. Lucifer looked at you & waited until your eyes met his.

“Tell me, (Y/N), what is it that you desire?” he flashed you a smile, only to be met by your confusion.

“What, are you a therapist now?” laughing, you slowly shook your head. Lucifer looked at you like you were an alien. Techincally, you were. Just, another sort of alien.

“What did you just say?” usually his techniques worked on everyone. Why not on you?

“I don’t think I stuttered, did I?

“Who are you?” his eyes grew wider & wider. You just stared at him like he was completely insane. Inbetween laughter you said.

“Funny, really funny. Too much to drink? Drugs? Too long without sex?” you raised an eyebrow while saying the last part, messing with him. But he was completely petrified still. As far as Lucifer knew, his gift did not work on angels only. You were not an angel, were you? An angel who had the same name as his daughter he never met. No, this could not be.

“Are you an angel?” his voice was low, serious.

“I get that a lot actually.” your sarcastic personality becoming the best of you. “Usually the men are a bit younger, though, but I take it as a compliment.” you giggled.

“I wasn’t joking.” his dark eyes searched for your (Y/E) ones. You were met with absolute honesty, curiosity. Two people could play this game.

“Are you the devil?” not expecting anything from him, you were shocked that he answered almost too quickly.

“I am.” before you had time to respond, you saw his eyes turning red (so you did not imagine this earlier) & his face turning into his true form. Others would probably be terrified but to you, this was the best thing you had seen in your entire life. Tears started forming in your eyes. You hoped this was not a dream you would wake up from. When he turned back to normal, one of his hands moved to cup your cheek.

“Dad? Is that you? Is that really you?” you hiccuped.

“(Y/N)? Bloody hell…” & with that you went in for a hug. Now it made sense. Of course he felt familiar. You had not met him before but you were an angel, your gut feeling was never wrong.

A few moments later, he examined your face. His daughter, you, found him.

“How?” was all he could say.

“I turned (Y/A). The moment I did, I left heaven. God wanted to keep me, wanted to keep me from you. You have no idea how many people told me stories about you. I thought you were in hell?”

“Left it a while ago. Vacation in LA sounded more inviting.” he grinned & you let out a laugh.

“I can’t believe I found you. I wasn’t even looking for you, something told me that LA was the right choice.”

“You’re here now & you’re not leaving, are you?”

“Never. If you don’t mind me staying in your strip club of a hotel?”

“Not at all.”

You sure did not think your first day out of heaven would go like that but on the other hand, it was meant to be. Your dad, the big bad Lucifer, who definitely was an asshole (but so were you), was not the bad guy everybody had warned you about. He was everything you had ever imagined, dreamed of. You were his angel, literally, & you were finally with him. You were ready to start your new life, finally reunited with the only family you ever had: your dad, Lucifer Morningstar.

Published (06/01/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @malena-stark

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thirstyforbishiesimagines · 4 years ago

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Hehehe I had way too much fun trolling this ‘cold’ grumpy boii! Poor Eugene can’t catch a break!

Also... Zion’s such a mood in this fic ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Enjoy xx

Dangerous Fellows Christmas Event

Eugene x Reader

Fluff

🎅 🎄 I Post-Apocalypse

“EUGENE! STOP… RUNNING!” Legs slowing down from fatigue, totally out of breath, you continue to chase after him.

“NO!” He calls back, zooming in and out of each room as you tail his every move.

“It’ll be cute! I swear!” You plead helplessly, holding out a fuzzy snowman costume toward him.

“HELL. NO.”

“Eugeneee! Pleaseee! We’re gonna be late!”

“GOOD! WE’LL JUST STAY HOME THEN!” He rushes past you, sprinting into the bedroom before locking the door behind him.

“Come on, Eugene!” You catch your breath before slumping against the door for support. “Stop being childish! Everyone will be dressed up!”

“I DON’T CARE!” He yells from behind the door. “AND WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A SNOWMAN?!”

You chuckle lightly, not needing to see his face, you could already picture the cute pout upon his features as he retaliates.

“We all selected from a list! You refused to take part in choosing, so you were left with the snowman nobody wanted!”

You waited patiently for his reply. But as time passed, you were met with nothing but silence. Bringing your ear to the door, you could hear the quiet mumbles of a grumpy Eugene.

Realising you had no other choice, you decide to go with plan B to combat his stubborn resolve.

Pretending to sigh heavily, you slowly begin to walk away while putting on your best discouraged voice.

“Fine! You win! Let me go get changed and then we can go…”

A sinister smile wide upon your lips, you sneakily slip out a newly bought costume from your bag.

A couple minutes go by as Eugene continues to hide himself away.

Exhaling deep, you mask your mischievous grin and casually call out, “OK, EUGENE! I’M DONE! LET’S GO NOW!”

Eyes glued toward the bedroom, you watch as the golden-haired male exits the doorway, a bright triumphant smile upon his lips.

“We’re late now…” You sigh as you pick up your plate of freshly baked cookies, nonchalantly stepping out from behind the counters — now in clear view.

As Eugene’s eyes land on your figure, his winning smile gets utterly washed out by the overwhelming colour of crimson painted over his face.

“ARGH! W-WHAT ARE YOU W-WEARING?!” He stutters, completely paralysed as he shamelessly gawks at your outfit.

Cleavage pushed up to the nines and booty cheeks threatening a full display from the smallest of movements, you simply answer, “My costume?”

You head towards the front door; clad in nothing but lacy red lingerie, a red mini skirt with fluffy white trimming and a simple Santa hat.

As you turn the doorknob, Eugene beelines toward you and slams the door shut. Arms out wide, he shields you from the outside world.

“YOU CALL THAT A COSTUME?!” He questions, totally exasperated as his eyes scan over you in every direction.

“Eugene… we don’t have time for this…” Moving him out of the way, you reach out for the doorknob again before he quickly grabs hold of your arms.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT LEAVING THE HOUSE LIKE THIS! GO GET CHANGED!”

“But… this role is important... Who else will be Santa then?” You ask innocently, tilting your head in fake concern.

“I DON’T KNOW! BUT IT SURE AS HELL WON’T BE YOU!”

“Eugene…”

He then grabs your hands tight, crouching down before looking up to meet your gaze with pleading amber eyes. “Please, (Y/N)! I’ll do anything, I’ll even wear that dumb snowman costume. Just please don’t wear this out.”

“…Really?”

“I’ll put it on right now if you want!” Eugene replies with desperation.

Got him.

Knowing you had him completely wrapped around your finger, you ultimately decide to ease him of his torturous distress. “Well… I guess I might have another outfit somewhere…”

Practically on his knees by now, he pleads once more. “Yes, please… just… anything but that.”

“Okay… I’ll go get changed…”

“Oh, thank god.” Eugene exclaims before slumping down onto the couch.

Taking a small peek at his defeated form as you leave, you witness Eugene laid back — hands covering his red-hot face as his voice is muffled within his palms. “Dammit… she’ll be the death of me.”

At last, you were dressed in the original outfit you had planned to wear all along. Unbeknownst to Eugene, of course. Stepping out into the lounge, you sport a pure white, long feathery dress with a floating halo attached above your head — an entirely opposite theme to the scantily clad fabric you had on just moments before.

Surely, he wouldn’t oppose to leaving with an ‘angel’.

Standing before your spiritually depleted boyfriend, you twirl around merrily before flashing him a glowing grin.

He stares for a moment before shaking his head. “No good… You’re still too cute.”

Astonished over his constant denial, you groan, “Eugene!”

“Fine… at least it won’t skyrocket my blood pressure this time.”

You stare at him as he avoids your eyes. “Your turn.”

Eugene hesitates slightly before sighing, finally grabbing the once abandoned costume. “Why do I feel played…?”

“I look stupid…” Eugene complains, his feet heavy with every step.

“No… you’re adorable!” You giggle as you excitedly skip up to Harry’s doorstep, hearing Eugene sigh for the thousandth time behind you.

Before you could even knock, Harry swings the door open. “Welcome!”

Eugene’s eyes go wide for a moment as he realises what Harry was wearing. You look back and poke your tongue out at him as he groans in defeat. Covered in red and white with a sack of presents to match, Harry gleams happily within his Santa costume. “Merry Christmas, guys!”

“Merry Christmas, Harry!” You beam back wholeheartedly.

“Yeah, yeah…” Eugene sighs once more, dreading the chaos within.

Harry gestures inside, “Come in! Everyone’s already here.”

Stepping into the warmly lit home, you’re both welcomed with an onslaught of greetings and well wishes from all around the room. Your eyes light up with joy as you reunite with the friends you now call ‘family’. Seeing everyone’s festive spirit made you feel right at home.

“HEYYY!!” Zion greets loudly from the kitchen. Stepping out into the lounge, you’re met with the brazenly exposed, half-naked redhead with a gold ribbon tied neatly around his neck. “Aww, well aren’t you guys the cutest?” Zion calls out as you break into hysterical laughter.

“…Aren’t you cold?” Eugene asks, wholly unimpressed, eyes creasing as thin as slits.

“You’re right… it DID get cold all of a sudden…” Zion wraps his arms around his bare form before looking in your direction. “(Y/N), did you HAVE to bring the snow in with you?”

“And… it starts.” Eugene mutters under his breath. Wiping the tears in the corners of your eyes, you try to question his clothing options—or lack thereof—but Eugene beats you to it. “So, what are you meant to be anyway?”

Zion’s eyes go wide with shock, dumbfounded by his simple question. “You can’t tell? Am I not a gift to your eyes?”

The room falls silent. So quiet, you could even hear the soft crackles of the flames within the fireplace.

Zion looks around the room, flabbergasted at everyone’s absent response. “I’m everyone’s Christmas present!”

“Bet you’re full of coal.” Eugene snickers.

“Only if you’ve been bad~” Zion fires back with a wink as he backs away toward the kitchen again, finger gunning the entire way back until he was out of view.

Eugene groans before sighing once more. “Today’s gonna be a long day... Can I take this off now?”

“Nooo! We need to take a family photo with everyone first!” Stopping him from unzipping himself and trying to lighten his sour mood, you nudge Eugene’s side playfully. “Come on! Everyone’s in the Christmas spirit and having fun!”

“Urgh… This is why I hate Christmas…”

You giggle at his predictable response before cheerfully waving back to Ethan and Lawrence sitting by the fire. “Ok, Scrooge. How about we say hello to everyone first and then go grab some food, sound good?”

He’ll be in a better mood after he eats.

“Fine… You know I’m only putting up with this ‘cause I love you, right?”

“I know.” Leaning up on your toes, you give Eugene a quick peck on his cheek. “Thank you, Eugene.”

“Yeah…” He murmurs, scratching the back of his golden tresses awkwardly.

Standing by the dining table filled with traditionally festive dishes, you lovingly feed spoonful’s of pudding to your now content boyfriend. For once, he wasn’t complaining about being here or feeling defensive over his attire. He began to actually enjoy himself as he caught up with everyone.

Well… That was until Zion came back to set down some eggnog on the table.

Coming up beside you, Zion looks toward Eugene before letting out a giant sneeze… a fake one of course. But it was enough to bring Eugene’s mood back to square one.

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST PUT A SHIRT ON, YOU FUCKING NARCISSIST?!”

“Man… the winter breeze sure is howling loud today!” Zion effortlessly ignores him as he snakes an arm around your shoulders. “You know, (Y/N)… since it’s so cold here, I heard that an easy way to warm ourselves is to cuddle each other while being stark nake-”

Before he could finish his sentence, with lightning fast reflexes, Eugene swipes a plastic butter knife from the table and places it by Zion’s cheek. His eyes now dark with murderous intent, voice seething in malice. “Hands.Off.My.Girlfriend.”

Zion immediately takes his hands off of you and raises them up as a sign of mercy. “Whoa… Chill, bro.”

“Ayeee~” Judy chimes in as she reaches out her hand for a synchronised fist bump with the proud redhead.

“Pfft-” Failing to stifle your chuckle, you go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter again, having way too much fun from everyone’s shenanigans.

Eugene snaps his head toward you, a look of utter betrayal in his expression. “Really, (Y/N)? That joke got you too?”

“I’m s-sorry… The timing… was perfect!” You manage to say as you clutch your stomach, giving in to the giggles.

About ready to burn his costume at this point, Eugene barks out, “CAN WE TAKE THIS DAMN PICTURE ALREADY?!”

Now cozy in their everyday clothes—after the chaotic madness of capturing the perfect group photo—the mood was tranquil as everyone chatted amongst themselves.

A moment of calm washed over the both of you as you sat comfortably within Eugene’s embrace by the roaring fire. A glass of warm eggnog within your palms, Eugene rested his chin within the curve of your neck — drained from the constant torment.

“Finally… Zion can leave me alone with his lame ass dad jokes now.”

Feeling somewhat responsible and guilty for putting your boyfriend through such turmoil, you decide to sneakily lead him away to a place that Harry secretly set up for you.

“What are you planning now?” Eugene’s eyebrow raises, underlying skepticism within his voice as you slip away from the party.

Spotting the hanging mistletoe in the hallway ahead, you eagerly drag Eugene over and situate him right underneath.

“OK! Now, look up!”

Eyes raising toward the ceiling before settling back on your expectant gaze, he smirks roguishly, “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked.”

Is it too cliché?

Suddenly feeling horrified by how enthusiastic you were, you cover your rosy cheeks with your palms and attempt to run off. “You’re right! This is dumb!”

“Hey!” Eugene protests as he hastily grabs you by the hand and gently pulls you into his arms, chuckling as he witnesses your bashful demeanour. “It’s only fair if I get to tease you a little too…”

His hand reaches up to caress your cheek, thumb gliding over your mouth as it lingers upon your soft lips. Leaning in close, his hot breath inches from your skin, he whispers, “How are you so adorable?”

Without a moment of hesitation, your eyelids flutter to a close — anticipating the warmth of his lips pressed upon yours.

Just as you were about to close the gap however, a wolf whistle echoes from the end of the hall.

Both taken aback by surprise, you turn your heads to witness a sneering Zion leaning against the wall… watching in amusement. “Oh, ho ho~ Be careful, (Y/N). If this gets any steamier, Olaf over here will melt away!”

Your face burns with embarrassment having been caught in the act of such a lovey-dovey scene. Infuriated by his interruption, Eugene blows up in rage for the... how many times today? You seem to have lost count at this point.

“SERIOUSLY, ZION! DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?! I’M NOT EVEN WEARING THAT STUPID COSTUME ANYMORE!”

Waving his hand indifferently in dismissal, Zion wanders off, dusting his hands like he had just completed a job well done.

“God, he’s so irritating! How is he everywhere?!” Eugene grumbles as he massages his temples with his fingers.

“Even I’m starting to get annoyed now.” You admit, your eyes falling into aggravated slits at Zion’s retreating form.

“We should have never come…” Eugene pouts, his expression reminding you of a provoked cat.

Cute...

You wrap your arms around him, hoping to calm him again. You hear him sigh in frustration as he returns your embrace before nuzzling his face into your (h/c) locks. “You know he only teases out of love, right?”

He scoffs at the thought.

Taking his hand in yours, you smile knowingly. “Plus, you don’t need to hide it, I know you enjoyed seeing everyone again.”

His attention shifts to the side, avoiding your gaze as his cheeks grow a subtle blush. “Whatever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his innocent response.

“Anyways…” He trails off as his fingers delicately lift your chin upwards. “The only love I need is yours.”

Leaning down a second time, Eugene’s gentle lips press together with yours. Fitting together as perfect as a puzzle, you gasp lightly as he hugs you tighter.

His scent was... reminiscent of faint firewood.

His lips... tasting of subtle hints of cinnamon.

Every part of him consumed your senses.

As he grips your chin eagerly, your mouth parts immediately as if by instinct — welcoming his intoxicating tongue.

Contrary to what Zion believed, Eugene’s kiss left your body melting under his every touch.

As your lips part ways with his, Eugene’s eyes were met with your fervent gaze — his eyebrows furrowing in response. “Can we go home now?”

Misunderstanding his intentions, you fail to hide your sadness. “You hated the party that much?”

“It’s not that… It was good to see everyone. But, I just… wanna spend some time with you now, (Y/N)…”

“O-Oh…Okay.” You stutter. He wasn’t usually this forward or honest, and it left you feeling a little shy. The prior hours, as you dragged on your stay, made you somewhat apologetic toward him. “I’m sorry for making you wear that costume.”

His eyes go wide before smiling warmly. “It’s fine… as long as you had fun.”

A bubbly grin on your face, you beam, “I did! Thank you, Eugene!”

Eugene chuckles quietly in response as he ruffles your hair. “Anyways, I guess it was worth it.” He then clears his throat uncomfortably. “…You looked beautiful today.”

“Only today?” You question; your tone, playful.

Eyes closing from exhaustion due to everyone’s constant lively energy, he sighs deeply as he rests his forehead against yours. “Give me a break already… You know what I mean.”

Tittering softly, you slowly nod against him.

“Don’t even start me on that lacy shit you had on this morning…” Eugene then looks up abruptly, confusion clear on his handsome features. “Wait… You tricked me! What was that outfit for anyway? Harry was Santa…”

Giggling radiantly at the memory of your prank, you reply, “It’s a gift!”

Eugene’s eyebrows raise in curiosity before you leaned closer to clarify, “But only for your eyes…”

“Ah…” Eugene places a hand on his mouth, turning his face toward the wall and averting his gaze — hiding the faint blush upon his skin.

He then clears his throat again before looking at you in a suspicious stare. “You’re not gonna chase me around again and say you bought it for me to wear, are you?”

Although you found the idea quite tempting, you smile sincerely. “I think I’ve teased you enough for one day.”

“Good.”

Taking your hand in his, he leads you away from the mistletoe and out of the halls. Pink hues decorate your cheeks as you anticipate a festive night, spent only in the arms of one another.

x luna

#dangerous fellows #dangerous fellows christmas event #fluff #dfel #dangerous fellows fanfic #dfel fanfic #dangerous fellows eugene #dfel eugene #eugene x reader #character x reader #reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic blog #dangerous fellows fanfiction #dfel fanfiction

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thestarsociety · 4 years ago

Text

hey there, hero

Rating: T

Word count: 4.5k

Content warnings: mild blood/injury, likely inaccurate medical procedures

Summary: five times kira greeted bella, and one time bella greeted her back.

: : : : : : : : 1 : : : : : : : :

Bella pulled at the edge of her gloves, adjusting her stance on the roof as she observed the Citadel Solutions complex down below. It was walled (which, really, was no surprise, considering the name), but she had found a spot on a building high enough up that she could watch.

Something was happening in there. She knew it.

She had forgone her usual bright blue and yellow attire for a mostly black outfit. After all, Blink, local hero and above-the-board actor, couldn't be caught here. But, Bella was fairly certain she could get in easily with some well-timed teleports. She had a labcoat stashed in her bag that was at least somewhat similar to the garb of the engineers inside. Similar enough, she hoped, that they would let her pass by, once she was in.

She'd spent this stakeout watching the movements in and out, trying to time her entrance so she could get in with the least fuss. She was almost sure she had it. She took a deep breath, and repeated the plan like a mantra. Get in, find what they're up to, disappear. You can do this. You can do this. You can do th—

Boots touched down onto the roof behind her.

"Hey there, hero. What brings you to this fine rooftop?"

Bella startled, instinctively teleporting behind the newcomer. "Wh– who– how did you know I was here?"

The newcomer spun around to face her, tilting her head slightly and crossing her arms. She was slightly taller than Blink, and wearing a sort of armored suit. A hard shell mask covered the bottom half of her face, but her dark eyes were amused. She had warm brown skin, and thick wavy hair that fell past her shoulders, just above the backpack she seemed to be wearing.

Most eye-catching, however, were her gauntlets. They were bulky, covering her entire forearm, and when she moved her hand, Bella could hear the whine of motors.

In short: definitely dangerous.

"Hey, whoah, no need to break out the powers," she said, wiggling her fingers slightly. The motors whined. Bella swallowed. "Anyway, I asked first. So." She stepped towards Bella. "Why are you here?" The mirth drained out of her voice, replaced by a steely seriousness.

"Ah..." Blink floundered for a second. "Just... came up to enjoy the view," she said. It was... a plausible excuse. It wasn't like nobody had ever spent time on top of a building for a view before.

The stranger just looked even more amused. "You sure? 'Cause the locked door would say otherwise," she said, cocking her head towards the door which did, in fact, read "NO EXIT/ENTRY" in large red letters.

"Euhh..." Bella clenched and unclenched her fingers. Purple sparks began to accumulate, swirling around her feet. "I..."

There was a snap, and Bella fell onto her bed.

Quinn spun around from where he was sitting in her chair, a red lollipop in his mouth. "Oh, you're back early. How'd it go?"

Bella covered her face with her hands and groaned.

: : : : : : : : 2 : : : : : : : :

Fighting has never been Bella's strong suit.

She'd gotten better at it, sure, thanks to experience and sparring with Quinn. Her battle strategy didn’t consist of "teleport away from punches and hope for the best” anymore. But she still didn’t like it.

Case in point, feeling like she's totally floundering as she tried to fight a dozen robot drones. She elbowed one that approached behind her, then teleported three feet above one in front of her, letting gravity (and her steel-toed boots) do the work for her. She got into the rhythm of it, kicks and punches and smartly-timed teleports becoming a dance that she weaves and bobs to.

However, she's not a fighter, and when fighting on a rooftop, it turns out that drones sometimes do have a strategy.

Corner her towards the edge of the building.

Every time she tried to fight her way away from the edge, the bots herded her towards it. What they lacked in individual power they made up for in combined might.

Then, the worst happened.

She tripped.

Her scream lodged in her throat as she fell though the air towards the hard ground below. Wind whipped around her, hair flipping into her eyes as she frantically tried to gather her powers, visualizing somewhere safe and grounded and––

The momentum around her stopped as Bella was slammed into by someone flying through the air. Arms circled her knees and back and Bella opened her eyes to see––

Her.

The girl bridal-carrying her grinned, the edges of her dark eyes crinkling. "Well hey there, hero," she said. "Hold onto me. Don't want to drop you." Bella looped her arms around her neck and dared a look down at the ground below. They were. High up. So she kept her gaze on her unlikely savior.

"Why did you—"

"I'm a hero," she said easily. "Heroes don't let pretty girls fall off rooftops." She glanced down at Blink. "Uh, and if they did, they would catch them out of the air."

Bella's breath hitched. Her face flushed, and she was silently happy that her mask covered her cheeks. "Thanks," she mumbled, averting her eyes from her savior's face.

"Your ears are red." Bella could hear the stupid smirk on her face. "Let's get you on solid ground, shall we?"

Before Bella could say anything in reply, the stranger boosted whatever mechanism made her fly, and the wind whipped even faster. Bella buried her head in her shoulder.

When they landed and brushed themselves off, the armored girl turned to Blink. "I feel like we got off on the wrong foot." She extended a hand. "I'm Cavalier."

Blink didn't move. "...As in, arrogant?"

"As in, horse-riding knights." She tapped the Citadel Solutions logo, a horse, on her chest. Blink frowned. Of course she was with Citadel.

"Shouldn't that be Cavalry?"

"The force as a whole is Cavalry. Just one is a Cavalier. Also, c'mon, can you just shake my hand?"

Bella took her gauntleted hand reluctantly. "Blink." she offered.

"Charmed, I'm sure. Can I ask what you were doing? Those bots aren't meant to attack people.” Blink opened her mouth. “Also, would be nice if you didn't disappear on me again. I did just save you."

"I can handle myself," Bella bit back. "I have powers."

Cavalier shrugged. "You were falling pretty fast." She cocked her head. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the Citadel cell tower on that rooftop, hm?"

Bella's breath hitched. It did. Citadel Solutions had recently developed and installed cell tower devices that would monitor and report "suspicious metahuman frequencies". Essentially, anti-meta spyware. Bella and Quinn were intent on destroying them. Her stomach tightened. "I... can't tell you that."

Cavalier started at her flatly. "So, that's a yes."

"Listen, they're horrifyingly unethical!" Blink burst out. "Spying on metahumans? For no reason? It's ridiculous! We aren't inherently dangerous!"

Cavalier cocked her head. "Blink, just last week, a pyrokinetic couldn't control their powers and created thousands of dollars in property damage."

Bella threw her arms up. "I know! I was there! I am extremely familiar with what happened. So familiar, in fact, that I was the one who diffused the situation!"

Cavalier's eyes widened.

Bella continued on her tirade. "So I know that the solution isn't surveillance. Jamie just needed someone to talk to. Someone who knows what it's like. He needed help, not to be stopped by some kind of armed force," she spat.

"Okay, but one situation doesn't cover all of it. Citadel is trying to help people, to make the city better, just like you are."

"The intent behind it doesn't matter. This is going to impact metahumans everywhere. It's not okay."

Cavalier stood for a moment, her jaw opening and closing a couple times. Her eyebrows were furrowed. Finally, she hummed. "Okay. Thanks for not disappearing on me." She turned her back to Blink, getting ready to take off.

Before she left, she looked over her shoulder back at Blink. "I'm... not gonna report this. Just so you know. Thanks for your thoughts."

Her repulsors built to a high whine, and she lifted into the sky.

: : : : : : : : 3 : : : : : : : :

Blink hadn't seen Cavalier all night. They had gotten into a rhythm of patrolling together over the past few months: they worked better as a team than on their own, and games of rooftop tag always made it more fun.

Their first patrol had been awkward, for sure. Blink has never approved of what Citadel does, but when they're not pushing morally dubious tech, Cavalier was helping people. So when Cavalier approached her on one of her regular patrol routes to ask about "pooling their resources" since "I save people, you save people, really, we're on the same side, here," Blink and Signal accepted.

Through these shared patrols, they'd grown much closer. There was something about the late nights spent together that allowed their conversations to flow, to share their thoughts easier. Blink had grown to appreciate Cavalier's humor and wit, and cared about her quite a bit. Through conversations about possible team names (Cavalier was set on 'Starlets', but Bella was partial to 'Moonlighters' and Quinn to 'The Star Society'), things that happened at school (though they were both careful to never mention names), or even Citadel projects, Bella saw Kira as a total person and not just an extension of Citadel. She agreed with a lot of Bella's criticisms of Citadel, and Bella admitted where they did legitimate good.

She knew Kira now. Knew that she was laughed loud and cared louder, that she would quote random lines from things Bella had never heard of, that when she smiled, the edges of her eyes would crinkle.

Nowadays, they would patrol together nearly every night. Quinn would sometimes rib her about "not giving away team secrets," but Bella trusted Kira. Which was strange.

Blink was worried. Cavalier had a tendency to flake off, sometimes, but she would always at least shoot her a message. Today had been radio silence.

She completed her route alone, as the sun set low below the sky and the few stars that weren't obscured by light pollution made their appearance. Once she was done, she went to one of their favorite spots: the top of a building that was taller than all the rest in the area, so they could see everything, but couldn't be seen.

Sure enough, Blink found Cavalier sitting on the edge of the building, her head resting on her knee and her mask set on the ground as she looked over the blinking city lights below. This didn't seem to be her usual vigilant watch. She looked... tired. Contemplative.

"Hey."

Kira looked up at her, her head not moving from its rest on her knee. "Oh. Hey, Blink." She sounded exhausted. Her shoulders were slumped.

"What, no 'hero'?" Blink said, trying to lighten the mood.

Cavalier huffed a little laugh. "You know you're my hero." There was a smile in Kira's voice now, at least.

Bella sat next to her, letting her legs dangle and peeling off her mask. She looked at Kira from the side. She still hadn't moved. Her eyes seemed fixed a million miles away, as the lights of the city reflected in them. Thousands of pinpoints of light: windows, passing cars, neon signs, like stars in a dark sky. The glow brushed the planes of her face, accentuating the shadows beneath her eyes.

"Hey," Bella murmured. "What's up?"

Kira smiled a little. "Us?" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"I am completely sure you've said that joke before," Bella said softly.

Kira's smile softened. "I think you're right. ...You usually are."

They sat for a while, watching the city. (Really, Kira watched the city while Bella watched Kira, and occasionally the blinking red cell tower.)

"I don't think I can do this. I don't know if I'm made for it." Kira confessed quietly. Her eyes were still fixed on the city.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," her voice wavered. "I mean, I don't know if I'm a good hero. If I can be a good hero. I know the kind of person my parents want me to be, what Citadel wants me to be, even what you want me to be. But I don't know what I want to be or–– or if I even have the ability become any of those people."

She sniffled.

Bella took a deep breath. "Kira," she said gently. "I've thought a lot of different things about you in the past. You know that. I've made sure that you know that. But something that has always stayed the same is this:" Bella turned so she was facing her. "Kira, you have proven to me a million times over that you are a hero. You're a good hero. No matter how much I've argued and fought with you about Citadel, about the Cavalry, whatever. I know Kira. And Kira is a hero."

Kira tilted her head towards her, and Bella could see stars reflected in the tears pooled in her eyes.

"Listen to me. The only person I want you to be is you. I like you. Whatever kind of hero you end up becoming–– and you are a hero, trust me ––I will want you to be that person. No matter what."

Kira sniffled, her lip quivering. She surged forwards, wrapping her arms around Bella's torso. "Thank you," she said, muffled into her shoulder. Bella held her until her breathing became more even, until her breath stopped shuddering in her ribcage, tracing circles on her back.

When Kira pulled back, their legs still intertwined, she looked up at her, eyes huge. "Thank you. Again. I needed to hear that."

Bella smiled at her. "It's just the truth."

"I– god. You're so good. I think I like you way too much." Kira sniffled. "Also, uh, all that stuff you said, about 'I like you no matter what?' Um. Ditto. Me too. I care about you. You're good people."

"You're good people, too," Bella said. She was sure she was red all over.

"Your ears are red," Kira murmured. "Hey, you ever think we're moving too fast? Like, I'm here spilling my guts about everything and how much I like you, and we've bandaged each other up more times than I can count, but I don't even know your favorite movie or your last name––"

Bella cut off her increasingly panicked ramble, stilling one of her shaking hands at the wrist. "My Neighbor Totoro. Jennifer's Body is a close second. And Vogel."

Kira blinked. "Iron Giant. And Singer-Veturi."

"Listen. We have plenty of time to move slow. Let's get dinner and see a movie. This Friday."

"Is that a date, Vogel?" she said coyly, testing the name out. She blinked up at her through her eyelashes.

Bella smiled, angling her head just as coyly. "If you want it to be."

Kira snorted, and they both broke out into laughter.

"I do," Kira said, without a hint of sarcasm. "I really, really do."

They stared at each other for a moment, grinning, before Kira took the hand that Bella was holding and cupped Bella's cheek. "Hey, can I––"

Bella nodded vigorously. "Please."

Kira leaned forward, and their lips connected.

: : : : : : : : 4 : : : : : : : :

Bella was inches away from slamming her head into her calculus notes when her phone pinged.

"Oh thank god," she mumbled.

Kira Cavalier: hekp'

Kira Cavalier shared a location with you.

Kira Cavalier: please it's serious thifs timr

Bella's heart caught in her throat. She tapped the location into her maps app threw her phone onto her bed, yanked her costume on in record time, and checked for landmarks around Kira's location. Locating a bakery on the street she was familiar with, she grabbed the first-aid kit just in case and teleported onto the roof.

She landed in a three-point-stance, immediately jumping up and looking for any sign of Kira. She grimaced at the familiar sight of a Citadel device on a nearby roof, but no sign of Kira.

"K—" what would she say? Kira? Cavalier? Either could be compromising to her identity. Eventually, she settled on yelling "K?! Are you here?"

Her phone pinged in her pocket.

Kira Cavalier: alleywy

Bella bounded towards an alleyway, leaping across it when she saw no one there. She silently thanked Kira for goading her into playing rooftop tag all those times. She was an expert at traversing rooftops now.

She saw a flash of purple in one of the narrower alleyways. She immediately blinked down. Purple sparks rained around her as she landed. She gasped.

There was a distinct coppery smell in the air. Kira was slumped against the wall, one gauntlet pressed against her side, where red was leaking through, staining her suit and her gauntlet. When she touched down, Kira smiled up at her weakly. "Hey there, hero." She tried to raise a hand to wave, the motors whirring, but she winced and lowered it gingerly.

"Oh my god." Bella dropped to her knees, kneepads slamming onto the concrete. "Why are you covered in blood? What happened? Can you move?"

"Uh, in order:" her voice was strained. "Sexy reasons, I fought some drones, and, uh, no. That's why I called you."

Bella began opening the first-aid kit. "Couldn't you call someone from Citadel? The Cavalry?"

Kira looked her in the eyes. "I was fighting drones, birdie. I was dismantling Citadel property." Before Bella could say something in reply, she continued. "I wiped 'em, don't worry. They won't be too retributive. Citadel won't know."

"That's not..." Bella said softly. "Why?"

Kira closed her eyes. "Milagro. That kid we saved last week. She's a metahuman and she lives here. She would qualify for surveillance. I couldn't..."

Something curled in Bella's chest. "Hey, listen. We're gonna make things right, okay?"

Kira looked at her and smiled. "Okay."

"Let's do this not in an alleyway, okay? I'm gonna teleport you to my room."

Kira sniffed. "Okay."

Bella wrapped her arms around Kira as best as she could, gathered her powers, and they popped in a shower of sparks.

Back in her bedroom, Bella gently placed Kira in her spinny chair. Kira protested weakly. "'M gonna get blood all over your nice chair."

Rooting through the closet, Bella glanced back. "It's fine. Honestly, Quinn will probably be more upset than me."

"Man likes his chairs." Kira said absently, head lolled against the headrest.

Bella peeled her mask off and dragged the larger first-aid bag out from her closet, unzipping it and pulling out the relevant materials. "I think you're gonna need to take off the armor," she said. "Is that possible."

"Mmhmm," she said. "But I think you'll have to help."

She guided her to the release on her mask and pulled it off. Bella set it aside as Kira licked her chapped lips. Bella frowned. "You should drink more water. I'll get you some after, uh." She gestured vaguely.

Kira sniffed. "Thanks."

They went through the process of gingerly removing her armor, Kira typing in the command to release the pressure and Bella peeling it off. Once the armor around her torso was removed, Bella lifted up the tank top above the wound on her side and cleaned it gently with alcohol and cotton. Luckily, it wasn't bad enough that she would need to go to a hospital, but she began securing it closed with butterfly stitches.

"So, how'd this happen? Usually you're a much more capable fighter."

Kira sighed and leaned her head back. "Both me and the drones are Citadel-made," she said bitterly. "My blasters didn't damage them as much as I expected. So they overwhelmed me."

Bella hummed. "We'll have to mod your blasters so they will, hm?"

Kira smiled. "Yeah."

Once the biggest wound was cleaned up, Kira removed the rest of her armor, including her gauntlets, and accepted a change of Bella's clothes. She was bruised elsewhere, but nothing that had to be attended to immediately.

"You should stay here," Bella said. It was selfish. She wanted Kira near her. But she was worried about what would happen if her parents saw her like this. "Tell your parents we're having a sleepover."

Kira shrugged. "They're too busy to notice," she said easily. Bella frowned. Kira just yawned, turning away. "I'm beat. Getting stabbed takes a lot out of you. You coming?" She asked. "Bed's big enough for two."

Bella smiled, filing that away under 'talk about later'. "Yeah. Let me clean up first, and I'll get you some water."

She gathered the bloody cotton and the gross tank top and shoved them into the trash can in the alley. She put the first-aid bag away, and stacked both of their costumes in the closet so prying eyes wouldn't see them.

She blinked downstairs to find her dad. "Hey, Dad, Kira's parents are out of town, so she's sleeping over here."

Her dad looked up from his book. "Oh, has she eaten yet? We have some leftovers we can heat up for her."

Bella nodded. "Yeah, she's asleep upstairs already. She went to bed late last night."

Her dad smiled. "I am never gonna get used to you just teleporting people in and out of here"

Bella rolled her eyes and grinned. "Dad, it has been like eight years since I got these."

"I'm your father! I worry about you! What if you get splinched?"

"Splinching isn't real. Don't worry so much, Dad. I am very responsible." She filled up a glass with water. "Alright, just wanted to let you know that she was over."

"Thanks. You know we like Kira," he said significantly.

Bella coughed. "Thanks, Dad! Goodnight!"

"Night, rabbit!"

Bella returned to her room with the glass. "Your water, my liege."

"Thank you, Sir Vogel." She took the glass and gulped it down, placing it on the nightstand. "Now come to beeeeedd," she said, reaching out her arms.

"Okay, okay!"

: : : : : : : : 5 : : : : : : : :

Bella woke up bleary. So, so, bleary.

She rubbed at one eye, shading a bit of the sun coming through the window. She buried back into the comforter, and rolled over to see Kira on the other side of the bed.

Oh. So last night wasn’t a dream. The injury, patching her up, asking her to stay for the night. Sharing the bed.

Bella sank into the bed and observed Kira as she slept, her chest rising and falling evenly, her lips slightly parted. She looked so different to the girl she'd spoke to on the rooftop months ago. Peaceful. She hoped she'd had even a small part in that.

She still found her just as pretty as she had on that night, though.

Kira began to stir, her eyes screwing shut before blinking open.

"Morning," Bella greeted.

Kira stretched, groaning a little bit. "G'morning." Done with her stretch, she settled on her side, facing Bella and looking into her eyes. She smiled, the edges of her eyes crinkling. "Hey there, hero," she said.

Bella couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey," Kira started.

"Hey," Bella echoed.

"You remember that time we were playing rooftop tag—"

"Oh my god." Bella covered her face with her hands.

"Wait, no, c'mon, you don't get to hide from this," she retorted, laughing. "You were it, and you tried to tag me, and you decided the optimal way to do that was by straddling me."

"Listen, it seemed like a good idea at the time!" she groaned. "And I did get you."

"I wanted to kiss you right then and there," she said, her eyes tracing the lines of Bella's face.

Bella started. "Oh. Yeah. Me too, actually," she said, bringing her hands down from her face.

Kira's eyes widened a little, but the expression was soon replaced with a grin. "Well, it's a good thing we have plenty of time to make up for it."

"Mmhmm. Wait, what are you— be careful––"

Kira hooked a leg over Bella's hip, flipping them so she was straddling Bella's hips and her arms were on either side of her head.

"Oh, you asshole," Bella giggled.

"Hey there, hero," Kira said, grinning down at her.

Bella pulled her down for a kiss.

: : : : : : : : +1 : : : : : : : :

They took Bella. They took Bella.

Tensions between the Moonlighters and Citadel had risen, and an ultimatum was presented: metahumans had to be controlled or neutralized. And Blink was the first meta to go.

Kira was so stupid. She should have seen the signs. The blueprints floating around for metahuman containment, the power-nullifying field generators she thought were purely theoretical. She was too busy living her stupid fantasy life of being a Real Hero, of running around the city with her friends.

She fired indiscriminately, warning everyone to get the hell out of her way. She'd spent hours and hours modding her gauntlet blasters, and now not even the Citadel Blast-Resistant Substance™ could withstand it. She descended into the complex, searching for the containment tubes.

And she found it.

Bella, held in a transparent tube, straps around her torso. Her head was lolled forward. The hum of electronics and the beep of a heart monitor filled the room.

Kira slammed the control panel, keying in the combo to release her.

Bella slumped out of the cell, and Kira caught her in her arms. "Birdie," she said, heart racing. "Hey, it's me, talk to me."

Bella sniffled. "Kira?" She looked up at her. She had a bloody nose that had since dried, the blood showing on her teeth as she grinned at her. Kira took a shallow breath in.

"Well hey there, hero," Bella said, eyes sparkling despite her injuries.

Kira's eyes welled up. "Shut the hell up, you're not funny," she said. "We gotta get out of here. Can you do that?"

"Mmphf. Gimme a second." Her head lolled forward again, and she gripped onto Kira's biceps. Purple sparks began swirling around them, and Kira felt the familiar sensation of teleporting, the mild nausea and rubberband snap.

But they were only about a yard away from the tube. Bella sniffled again. "'M sorry," she said.

"Hey, it's okay, that's fine," Kira said, adjusting Bella so she had one arm around her waist, letting her lean her weight on her.

"We'll fight our way out," she said, her arm blaster whining as it charged up and flashed.

#this is the longest single thing i've written. wtf #it's not. super great? but idk i had a lot of feelings about these two and needed to put them somewhere so. *hands you this*#also artfight friends if you drew literally any scene from this i will owe you my firstborn #my FIRSTBORN OK i am so serious #also im not usually a writer so if there's anything glaringly obvious that could be better lmk #writing #birdsong #kira #bella

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bettydice · 4 years ago

Text

I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 5

Jiang Cheng I need your help Nie Huaisang this should be good

Jiang Cheng I’m already regretting this

Nie Huaisang awww Cheng-Cheng! I’ll be good :3c

Jiang Cheng … Do you know a nice coffee shop? something quiet and cozy but not like empty not too fancy but not cheap

Nie Huaisang why?

Jiang Cheng because I want to drink coffee what do you think

Nie Huaisang hahahahahahahaha

Jiang Cheng Maybe I just want a quiet place to study!?!?!

Nie Huaisang lololololololol

Jiang Cheng forget I asked

Nie Huaisang there’s a cute place next to the park the one I carried you to cozy interior, lots of plants

Jiang Cheng thank you

Nie Huaisang do you need help picking out an outfit for the date?

Jiang Cheng shut up Who said it was a date? I can dress myself

Nie Huaisang you have that dark purple v-neck it looks so good on you paired with some tight jeans nobody could resist you

Jiang Cheng I didn’t ask! but thanks

Nie Huaisang say hi to Xichen-ge call me after

Jiang Cheng fuck off

Nie Huaisang :-*

Jiang Cheng messages Lan Xichen with the details, and they agree to meet directly at the coffee shop. Since they’re meeting at 4:30 p.m. and Jiang Cheng woke up at 6 a.m., he has many hours to obsess over it. What should he wear, what should he talk about. What should he not talk about, under any circumstances? (Anything involving Wei Wuxian, probably.) Is it really a good idea to meet at a place Nie Huaisang suggested? Should he have offered to pick Lan Xichen up? But he doesn’t have a car. He could have asked his sister to borrow her car, but then he’d have to explain why and… He’s not ready for that conversation.

He somehow makes it through the day without panicking and cancelling on Lan Xichen. When it’s finally time to get dressed, Jiang Cheng does eventually settle on the purple sweater. Not because of Nie Huaisang, but because it’s the best choice.

Jiang Cheng arrives too early, so he waits in front of the coffee shop. Above him, the sky is dark, clouds foreboding. Of course he forgot his umbrella, again. He frowns at the sky when the first rain drop lands on his nose. He doesn’t really want to wait inside. At least this way he can pretend he just arrived and Lan Xichen will be able to spot him immediately. Luckily he doesn’t have to wait much longer until he sees Lan Xichen approaching in the distance. Jiang Cheng sighs, relieved. Apparently a part of him thought Lan Xichen would not show up? When Lan Xichen sees him waiting, smiles and waves, Jiang Cheng tenses up again, heartbeat speeding up.

Fuck. Why is he on a date? There’s no way this will go well. Lan Xichen will end up disappointed and/or offended. He doesn’t know what Lan Xichen is looking for in a … whatever… but Jiang Cheng can’t be it.

But it’s too late to back out now. Because Lan Xichen is standing in front of him, looking wonderful. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and he’s wearing a light grey scarf and a coat and looks so much better suited for this autumn day. Jiang Cheng would like to know what it feels like to have these arms wrapped around him. Fuck.

“Jiang Wanyin. Hello.”

“Hey.”

They simply stare at each other for a few seconds because already they have nothing to say to each other because Jiang Cheng can’t do small talk or big talk or anything. Before he can develop a full blown panic that ends with him pretending to have a stomach bug and needing to leave, a raindrop lands on Lan Xichen’s nose. Not wanting that Lan Xichen gets rained on is a very simple want Jiang Cheng can follow easily, so he says: “Shall we go in?” and opens the door. He gestures to Lan Xichen to go in first, but Lan Xichen makes the same gesture at the same time.

Jiang Cheng gestures again, more intently. Lan Xichen looks a little surprised, then laughs and finally steps through the door.

Inside, it is… cozy. Jiang Cheng thinks that describes it well. Wooden floor, colourful mix and match furniture, and - Jiang Cheng is relieved to see - quite a few plants. Lan Xichen will probably like it here, so Nie Huaisang hasn’t led him astray. (Not that he would.)

As they approach the counter, Jiang Cheng hopes Lan Xichen will order first, so Jiang Cheng can adjust his own order accordingly. He doesn’t want to be weird because he orders too much or too little. However, Lan Xichen seems to be waiting for him to go first. The person behind the counter gives them an unimpressed stare.

“Why don’t you-” Jiang Cheng starts, but he’s not quick enough.

“Please, go ahead.” Lan Xichen steps aside, so Jiang Cheng is the only one directly in front of the counter.

Fuck. Alright. What’s a normal thing to order in a coffee shop? Black coffee is too boring, right? Shit - and food too? They sell cakes and muffins but also soup and sandwiches. What is the right choice here? Obviously he’s overthinking it, but… Lan Xichen deserves as much consideration on Jiang Cheng’s part as possible!

“Ready to make your order? Would you like me to recommend something?” The person behind the counter asks, and Jiang Cheng randomly picks the Autumn Latte that’s advertised on a little chalkboard next to the cash register and a piece of chocolate cake. He pays for it and only belatedly realises he should’ve said that he’d pay for both their orders. Oh well. To his relief, Lan Xichen orders something of the same magnitude (a hot chocolate and an apple-cinnamon muffin) and they move to the left to wait for their drinks. Lan Xichen doesn’t say anything, only smiles whenever their eyes meet and Jiang Cheng can’t think of a single thing to say. They haven’t even sat down, why is he already out of conversation topics? They haven’t even had a conversation yet! Fuck.

Lan Xichen turns to him, mug and plate with muffin in hand, cocks his head a little, raises his eyebrows and smiles. Today, he seems to be quietly insisting Jiang Cheng should take the lead, which is a horrible idea, because Jiang Cheng is a certified Dating Disaster. But they should really stop hanging out at the counter, so Jiang Cheng moves purposefully towards a table in a corner, as though he’s confident in his choices. A large plant, vaguely looking like a palm tree, is standing next to the table, so he hopes Lan Xichen will approve.

Once they’ve sat down and taken off their coats, things do not get any easier. Lan Xichen is wearing a very soft looking, teal sweater. He looks… as though he gives really great hugs, which is not a thought that helps him relax.

Right, he needs to stop staring and start talking.

“I hope you found the place well.” This is not a line of conversation that will get them very far, but at least it’s a start.

“Oh, yes, I could walk here from home! It’s a lovely place.” Lan Xichen looks around the room once, then looks back at Jiang Cheng, smiling. “Do you come here often?”

“I’ve… never been actually. A friend recommended it to me.”

“It was a good suggestion.”

Jiang Cheng nods his agreement, then they both fall silent again. He takes a sip of his drink, but it’s still too hot and he almost burns the roof of his mouth. Fuck.

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” Lan Xichen suddenly says. He seems to realise it was a bit out of the blue and laughs, a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry, there was no lead up to that at all. I just realised that I don’t know too much about you other than who you’re related to.”

This is what Jiang Cheng was worried about. There’s nothing good or interesting to know about him, which Lan Xichen will realise very soon and lose all of his attraction to Jiang Cheng. Well, better get it over with then.

“I’m a student. Business degree.”

“Oh.” Lan Xichen clearly didn’t expect this answer. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Do I…” Jiang Cheng didn’t expect this question. Is it even possible to enjoy a fucking business degree? He laughs and can’t keep the bitterness out of it. “No, I hate it.”

“Then why do you study it?” It’s a reasonable question, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t have a reasonable answer. If he had one, maybe he’d hate it less.

“Because… I started it.” He never wanted to. He did it, because he told himself he should follow in his father’s footsteps, do what his mother expected of him to honour her memory. But his father never meant for those footsteps to be filled by him, and his mother… There aren’t many good memories worth honouring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Lan Xichen is clearly thrown by how bitter Jiang Cheng sounds. His smile looks a little strained now, and there’s a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Let me ask more casual questions! What… what are your hobbies? What do you like to do?”

Another reasonable question Jiang Cheng has no reasonable answer for. “I… I like to…” He’s stopped doing things. He’s stopped liking things. He can’t think of anything he does for fun these days. Is there truly nothing? “Well… I like… playing with my nephew. And… uhm… I like animals.”

“I noticed.” Lan Xichen leans forward, probably happy he found a topic they can discuss without running the danger of Jiang Cheng having another one of his emotional outbursts. Why is he like this? Lan Xichen deserves better. As is evidenced by his beautiful smile when he says: “I think animals like you too.”

Nobody likes me, is his first thought and why can’t his brain ever shut up? He decides to ignore it this time, Lan Xichen’s voice is lovelier to listen to, anyway. “Though Cloud did pee on me.”

Lan Xichen laughs, his brows smooth again. Jiang Cheng is glad. “She did. But as I said, I’m sure it was a sign of… proprietary affection.”

Jiang Cheng laughs too. “I’ll take you by your word, you’re the bunny expert. I actually used to volunteer at an animal shelter, but they didn’t often have bunnies there. Mostly cats and dogs.”

“That’s such a wonderful idea!” Lan Xichen’s eyes light up and he looks at Jiang Cheng with such warmth, it could start snowing right now and he wouldn’t be cold. “But you don’t go there anymore?”

“Ah, no… I suppose I… got busy.” That’s a lame excuse and Jiang Cheng is sure Lan Xichen knows it too.

Lan Xichen, because he is wonderful and lovely and nice, only nods and says: “I used to go to the botanical garden every week, but these days… Once you stop, it’s easier to leave it instead of picking it up again, isn’t it?”

“We should go together. The botanical garden. Or the shelter, whatever you want.”

Before Jiang Cheng can regret his words, because maybe Lan Xichen will not want to meet with him again after today, Lan Xichen smiles. “I’d like that. I’d like to visit both with you.”

“Oh.. oh, okay. Yes. Great!” Jiang Cheng’s face feels hot for some reason. Maybe the thought that Lan Xichen wants to keep seeing him fills him with such warmth it has spread to his face. Maybe it’s because one part of his brain keeps yelling ‘I want to kiss him.’

“Would you like to tell me more about your time at the shelter? What exactly did you do there? Were you allowed to play with the animals?”

Jiang Cheng finds out that he can talk for a surprisingly long time when it’s a topic that doesn’t fill him with existential dread. He even ends up telling Lan Xichen all about his favourite animals - their names, their habits, whether they found a new home. Lan Xichen listens intently, sometimes asks a question, always smiling.

It isn’t until Jiang Cheng takes a sip from his drink, only to find out his latte is empty, that he notices Lan Xichen’s tea and muffin are both still untouched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation.” How long has he talked about random animals Lan Xichen doesn’t even know? If Nie Huaisang could see him now, he’d probably sadly shake his head, telling him he’s a lost cause.

“Oh, no, not at all! It’s lovely to see you so passionate.”

Lan Xichen smiles at him, but… he looks a little pale, doesn’t he? Or is it just the light playing tricks?

“Lan-laoshi… are you alright?”

Lan Xichen’s smile falters. “Mhm… why… why do you ask?”

“You haven’t eaten anything. Your tea must be getting cold, too.”

“Oh, you’re right! Ha…” Lan Xichen looks down at his tea. Then he raises his hands from his lap, wraps them around the mug. He tries to lift the mug, but his hands are shaking so badly, the tea almost spills over. He quickly puts the mug down again, then sends an embarrassed smile towards Jiang Cheng. “Sorry. It’s… Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

As soon as Lan Xichen says the word ‘fine’, the door opens and a group of laughing teenagers enters the coffee shop. Lan Xichen twitches, his hands gripping the edge of the table. Jiang Cheng can see sweat beading on his forehead. Fine is definitely not what he is.

“Lan Xichen… are you not feeling well? Should I get you some water? Do you want to leave?”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes for a second, wipes his forehead with one shaking hand, then lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m really sorry. I just get overwhelmed sometimes… in public spaces…”

Alright. This is a problem with an easy solution. Jiang Cheng stands up and puts on his jacket. “Then we’ll leave. Come on. The park is on the other side of the road. Let’s get some fresh air.”

Lan Xichen just stares up at him, lips slightly parted. Jiang Cheng smiles gently, hoping it will reassure him. “Put on your coat. I’ll get a bag for your muffin. Would be a pity not to eat it.”

He rushes to get a paper bag from the counter. When he returns, Lan Xichen has stood up, his coat in one hand, but is simply looking down at it, as though he isn’t sure what to do. Jiang Cheng puts the muffin into the bag and stuffs it in the pocket of his jacket. Then he helps Lan Xichen into his coat and slings the leather shoulder bag over his own shoulder. He takes Lan Xichen’s hand in his and smiles up at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

Lan Xichen looks down at him, a little helpless, and it hurts Jiang Cheng to see him like this. But when Jiang Cheng starts walking, he follows him out of the coffee shop. Into the pouring rain. Of course Jiang Cheng doesn’t have an umbrella with him, because he’s terrible at dating and at life. He wanted to take care of Lan Xichen and all he’ll accomplish is that they’ll get soaked.

“Fuck!”

#xicheng #the untamed #mdzs #cql #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #jiang cheng/lan xichen #Modern AU #To Meet You verse #first date #betty drabbles

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

Text

Mardi Gras/Valentine’s Day (2/14/2021)

Long summary:

Alastor takes Sir Pentious @usedhearts to a Mardi Gras drag show/gay masquerade on Valentine’s Day and somehow neither one of them realizes that this is a date. FEATURING: each of them wondering a hundred times “am I being too romantic?” or “is HE being romantic??”! Disturbing the peace! Extremely over-the-top costumes! Questionable decisions made with New Orleanian cuisine! Fake (???) flirting in French! Spontaneously roleplaying as Greek gods! Puking in a toilet!

Short summary:

I know what you want to know. You know what you want to know.

*presses my lips real close to the microphone to whisper*

Yes. They make out.

Alastor

It’s ball time! Or it will be soon, anyway. Just in time for everyone to finish getting in costume.

Alastor’s, at least, is simple to put on. He’s already all but dressed—everything but the hat, hood, and mask—when he arrives to help Sir Pentious finish getting ready.

Sir Pentious

Telly's room is a downright mess-- things thrown all over the place, dresses of varying styles laid where ever they fell. And Telly himself is slithering around like a serpent possessed. He's got the gown on, and most of the accessories, and Hattie's turned himself into a crown, though said crown is currently laying on the bed.

"Alastor!" He cried when he spotted the Radio Demon. "Perfect timing, I need help with the pearls!"

Alastor

Hold on, Sir Pentious is in a gown, Alastor’s brain short circuits and his stomach does a somersault. With Sir Pentious’s entire neck and shoulders visible and rippling waves of fabric curling around his— “Sorry? Come again?”

Sir Pentious

"The pearls, Alastor! I need to get them on before I can put on Hattie!" He put said pearl strings into Alastor's hands and turned around, lowering himself to make it easier for Alastor to put on him.

Alastor

“Oh—right, right!” He tried to untangle the pearl strings. “This is that pearl hood bit, right?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes! Once I have that on, I can put on Hattie-- look how handsomely he's transformed, isn't he superb?-- and then Hattie will hold them in place and make sure they don't shift around! After that, I need help with the lashes-- my hands aren't steady enough for it." No mention of the _why_ there, even though normally his hands are steady as a surgeon's.

Alastor

Alastor muttered, “Ooh, I’ve never done lashes.” He glanced over at Sir Pentious’s hat/crown and gave it an approving nod, very regal. He fanned out the net of pearls over his fingers and gently draped them atop Sir Pentious’s head and down his hood. “I might have a shade that can handle that instead, some of them have worn makeup. I wouldn’t want to poke you in the eyes.” He doubted his hands would be any steadier if he was sitting with his face inches from Telly’s, staring deep into his eyes, trying to glue a thin strip of hairs onto the rim of his eyelid.

Sir Pentious

"That's fine, I'd much rather not get poked in the eye." He laughed but the sound was unusually nervous.

Once the pearls were settled, he straightened and slithered to get Hattie, placing him ever so delicately on top of his head-- juuuust right.

"There! That's done." He moved to the vanity in the corner-- a new addition, Alastor could note if he cared to-- and sat.

"Alright, lashes and eye make up." Oh look at that his hands were shaking just reaching for it.

Alastor

Alastor didn’t recognize the vanity; but his trips into Telly’s room in the past had been brief and the room itself had always only been the *second* most interesting thing capturing his attention, so maybe he’d just glanced over it.

Meanwhile, the *most* interesting thing in the room had noticeably shaking hands, and that, in Alastor’s opinion, would not do. He looked for something nearby he could sit on and tugged it up to the vanity next to Sir Pentious. “Don’t wear eye makeup very often?”

Sir Pentious

"Not at all, no. I, uh..." He swallowed thickly, glancing over at Alastor. He took a breath, trying to keep himself calm.

"My death, I told you I was blinded-- Now anything gets in or near my eyes and well...." He holds up his shaking hand.

Alastor

*Ah.* Alastor took Sir Pentious’s shaking hand. “Then why wear it? You’re going to have a mask *and* a spectacular dress on, nobody’s going to be scrutinizing your makeup.”

Sir Pentious

His grip on Alastor is vice tight when his hand is taken, and he takes another breath.

"It completes the outfit...Ties it all together. I _want_ to wear it-- maybe it'll help me stop being so afraid...."

Alastor

Hmm. Alastor ran his thumb over Telly's knuckles as he thought; then leaned over to the wall, tapped his shadow on the shoulder, and murmured, "Go see who's good with eye makeup, would you?" His shadow slid away as Alastor straightened back up.

"I've got an idea. I'll have one one of my people handle the makeup and *I'll* keep you distracted, how does that sound? Whatever you want to hear! Music, jokes, interesting stories, you name it, I'll play it. Just tell me what you'd like most!"

Sir Pentious

Telly nodded, his thumb stroking in return. "That sounds like a good idea-- probably best to play something that won't make me move suddenly? So, music would be best, I think. I love your jokes, but I don't think laughing would be good with things close to my eyes."

Alastor

“All right, nothing funny! Tall order, but I’ll see what I can do.”

His shadow came back with another; the second shade had five large eyes. Alastor should hope it would be good with eye makeup. He moved his seat a bit to give the shade room to move in front of them and sit atop the vanity, where it could look down at Sir Pentious’s face. “What kind of music are you in the mood for—musical, classical, swing, happy, melancholy, romantic...?”

Sir Pentious

"Something happy, and from a musical maybe? Perhaps you could do one of the songs from your musical?" Hamilton was now going to be 'your musical' to Telly forever. "I'd like to hear more from it, the one song you played the other day was very catchy."

He turned his face toward the shade and closed his eyes-- he hoped that was the right posture for eye make up.

Alastor

A song from Hamilton—and happy—but not *funny*—and, of course, one he knew the lyrics to—that narrowed down the options quite a bit, pretty much back to the one he’d already performed for Telly. “You know, the one I sang for you last time, I only did about half the song. Let me do the whole thing this time—pardon me for attempting to sing the other characters’ parts, but I’ll do the best I can!” He launched into “What’d I Miss,” from the top this time, the backing instruments playing from nowhere and unseen shades providing the backing vocals. He shifted his singing tone and style slightly for each of the different characters in the song, but it was very clear just from listening which one of them was *his* character. He resisted the urge to dance, even just on his seat, not wanting to give Telly a performance he might feel the need to watch; but, on the other hand, he couldn’t quite fight the urge to tap his fingers atop the vanity as though he was playing the piano part.

Meanwhile, the shade carefully applied Telly’s eyeshadow, then held one lash up to one eyelid to measure the length, trimmed them both, ran glue along them, and very carefully applied them. A professional at work. It was just finishing when Alastor finished the song, and he blinked at it in surprise. “Oh, that fast?”

It shrugged, yeah. Lashes took a couple of minutes tops and it wasn’t exactly going to be doing fancy blended looks that were going to be hidden by a mask’s eyeholes.

Sir Pentious

He smiled as Alastor launched into the song, the tip of his tail swinging like a metronome to the beat. He didn't even feel the shade's fingers-- a huge plus to curbing his anxiety-- and soon enough the song was ending and he opened his eyes. He blinked a couple times, getting used to the feeling of the feathery lashes.

Telly turned to smile at Alastor, giving his hand a squeeze. "Thank you. How does it look?"

Alastor

Alastor turned to look at Telly, and made direct eye contact. It was like the eyelashes were pulling him in. “Oh, that—really frames your eyes nicely.” AHEM. “And they’re both straight.” He quickly looked away. “I’d better get mine done too. Don’t want my natural skin standing out under the mask.”

The shade gave him an expectant look, and he waved it off impatiently. “Get out of here, I can do my own.” He waited until it had slid off the vanity and then leaned toward the mirror, taking a black eyeshadow palette he’d gotten from Angel out from god-knows-where.

Sir Pentious

Telly scooted over to give Alastor more room to use the mirror. And then turned to look at himself and gave a little gasp.

"Oh, these do look nice." He leaned in and blinked his eyes, watching the lashes. His eyes were drawn to watch Alastor instead, focused rather intently on it. He wanted to see how he did it.

Alastor

He did it haphazardly. He took off a glove to apply it with a finger, and was applying it more like stage makeup—a large, bold, solid covering, both atop his upper lid and beneath his lower. “I’m not really trying to look pretty,” he explained. “I just want to black out anything that’s going to be visible from the eye hole. My complexion does *not* flatter my costume.”

Sir Pentious

Telly nodded. "I see. You just use your finger? Isn't that what they have those little brushes for?" He tilted his head.

Alastor

“I find just using a finger makes it easier to control when I’m trying to get on a thick layer! I use one of those,” he made a pinchy gesture with his thumb and forefinger, “you know, little sponge-tip things when I need more control—but I’m not too worried about the details, here!” Obviously. He looked like a goth who looked like a raccoon.

Sir Pentious

"I see. And yes, I know what you mean! The little sticks that come with the eyeshadows." He nodded eagerly-- and then he remembered about the fan.

"Oh!" He got up and slithered to the bed, picking up said item from where it lay and opened it with a flick of his wrist. "I finished the fan! Fine construction, if I do say so myself."

It was a gaudy thing, but meshed with the style of the costume to look like a large shell. He fanned himself with it as he slithered back over to the vanity. "It has a few little extra tidbits that most other fans don't! Just in case." He winked.

Alastor

“Oh, does it!” Alastor grinned broadly. “You weaponized a fan! Of course you did. How does it work?” He leaned closer to inspect it.

Sir Pentious

"When it's shut," He said, snapping it shut. "It can be used as a ray gun."

He tilted it to show the very subtle and hidden barrel in the end, and pulled on another part to make a handle, the trigger popping out when he did. He held it out, aiming at a dress on the floor-- but didn't shoot. He didn't want to ruin his new dress that he just stole!

"Just a standard heat ray, but it's condensed and powerful enough to blast a hole in someone." He shut the handle and trigger back up and flicked it back open to fan himself again, a devilish grin on his face.

Alastor

He was grinning so wide the corners of his mouth threatened to disappear beneath his hair. “*Brilliant.*” He laughed, “Is it wrong of me to hope something *does* go wrong so I have a chance to see this beauty in action?”

Sir Pentious

"No, not wrong at all! I tested it out on some firing dummies and it was spectacular. If something doesn't happen, well, after the ball we could always go make some trouble!" He laughed again, winking at Alastor. He shut the fan again and slipped it into his belt-- the leviathan one, now around his waist, blending well with the dress.

"Now, let's see....Dress, pearls, Hattie, belt, fan, the mask is on the bed....Am I missing anything?"

Alastor

“Well...” Alastor looked Telly up and down. ... This station is experiencing technical difficulties, please hold while we attempt to get back on air— “I think so! I don’t know what else you could add.”

Sir Pentious

Telly continued to scrutinize himself in the mirror-- He knew he was forgetting _something_. He turned to the side and that's when it struck him. "OH! My scales! We forgot about painting them."

He slithered over to grab the rather large containers of nail polish style paint he'd 'found' (hehe, _crime_). "A copper-y color to match the verdigris, and then a shimmery green for some of my black scales to just add a bit of flair!'

Alastor

“Oho! I see why we needed to prepare so early!” He picked up one of the copper bottles and shook it. “Goodness, they do make them sparkle these days, don’t they! I suppose with these little brushes we’d better split up the job?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, that would be best-- I think if you take painting the scattered black scales, I could handle the sides where the yellow is? I don't want to move too much while you're painting though so we should find a good way to get settled where we both can reach the right parts." He slithered a bit to turn in half, to be able to reach the visible part of his tail. He took the copper from Alastor and handed him the green instead.

Alastor

He took the green, hesitated, then said, “Which ones do you want me to paint, exactly? I uh, I’m afraid I’m not blessed with an artistic eye.” He laughed apologetically. “I can color within the lines if you give me crayons and a coloring book, but I’m not what you’d call gifted at improvisation.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh! Well, in that case, maybe you should take the sides actually. All you'd have to do is make sure to only paint the yellow." Once again, swapping paint. "I'll handle the individuals."

He shook the bottle and opened it, firmly closing his mouth to make sure he didn't blelele right into that Smell. Telly started to very carefully paint a few of the black scales on his tail, humming Randy Dandy-oh under his breath.

Alastor

"Thanks." Alastor took the bottle, then plopped down on the floor so he could lean on one elbow and reach the sides of Telly's stripes where they were visible just above the ground. "So sorry for getting picky with how I help you! I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I doubt you'd have liked the results if I hadn't! Ask me to get creative and I tend to slap on a mess, *then* look at it and go 'Oh, that's terrible, isn't it.' Don't know how artists do it..."

His rambling trailed off as he got into his work—and as he realized that silence meant he could listen to Sir Pentious hum.

Sir Pentious

Telly was content to let Alastor talk, and then content to hum into the silence that grew between them. It was comfortable-- and how often did that happen? A comfortable silence, with just his humming to fill it. He focused on the painting, doing groupings of three scales every so often. It was soothing, actually, painting his scales like this-- helped him forget the anxiety he'd felt earlier. Plus the brush against his scales felt very nice.

Alastor

It took a few square inches of painting for Alastor to figure out the exact amount of polish and pressure to get an even covering on each scale, but by the time he got up to the point where Telly’s tail bent and the belly lifted off the floor, he’d gotten down to an efficient rhythm. He could even trace carefully around each of Telly’s brilliant eyes without slowing down.

He set the polish bottle down on thin air so he could free a hand to lift Telly’s skirt aside, out of danger of landing on the wet polish. He wouldn’t go *too* far up beneath his skirt, no point painting in places nobody would see—but he wasn’t going to leave anything that might be visible unpainted.

This was, he mused, probably the most quiet he’d had in months—Telly’s hypnotic humming was more than enough to keep Alastor content. A rarity. Forget sea serpent, maybe Telly should have dressed as a siren.

At some point, Alastor had gotten the thought *I don’t want to accidentally paint my gloves* and removed his remaining glove without conscious awareness before continuing to paint—a realization he didn’t have until he’d finished painting up one outer stripe and started down the other side. But once he did notice, all he could think about was the brush of chiffon so light it made the back of his hand tingle and cool scales under his hand near what on human anatomy would be the back of a thigh.

He accidentally smudged a bit of polish off a yellow scale and onto a black one. He carefully wiped it off with a thumb, tried to hold the brush steadier, and continued.

Sir Pentious

Telly's concentration didn't waver, even when he felt the front of his dress lift. His focus shifted a tiny bit when he felt Alastor make a mistake, but quickly returned to his task at hand. The motions were so methodical, they soon became automatic-- paint a trio of scales, move a few over, paint another three.

His humming shifted from Randy Dandy-Oh, to My Jolly Sailor Bold, and then shifted again from humming to singing, his voice soft so that he could hit the notes. It was always easier to do when he wasn't trying to belt.

"_My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There's noting can console me, but my jolly sailor bold..._"

Alastor

*Pierced by Cupid* indeed, that bastard. Alastor recognized this one, he’d heard Telly singing it in the shower once. He started quietly humming along. His hum was a buzzing drone—hums and microphones don’t mix well—but it was certainly in tune, he had that going for him.

He found himself disappointed when he switched from the side stripe to the one in the middle—he was running out of scales to paint. Nothing left now but the middle stripe and the few yellow scales exposed on Telly’s upper chest. Alastor thought he could have happily stayed hours exactly where he was—kneeling in front of Sir Pentious like a knight swearing his fealty to a lord, lovingly tending to each and every individual scale by hand, leaning in to gently press a warm kiss to the cool snakeskin—

NO. No he did NOT do that—he got so close his bangs brushed over Telly’s scales, but he caught himself and jerked back, gasping with a burst of static, shocked out of his trance by the realization of what he’d nearly done.

“I—I’m so sorry.” His voice was so distorted it was nearly doubled. Damage control, hurry hurry hurry—“I think I almost—nearly got a brush in your eye, there. Not paying attention to what I’m doing, clearly.” Had Sir Pentious noticed anything else? A dozen eyes were on Alastor, how obvious had he been? He shook his head violently, as much for the effect as to actually clear his head. “Nearly drifted off on the spot, I think, you’re too soothing a singer—Here.” He held up the bottle with the lid hastily screwed back on. “I don’t think I should—I don’t want to risk getting you in an eye. Sorry.”

Sir Pentious

He felt that-- the brush of hair against his scales. They were far more sensitive to touch than most would give credit, and he nearly fumbled his own painting. So focused, he hadn't really been watching what Alastor had been doing with his body eyes, but he was fairly certain that he hadn't been near one of the eyes-- but he sat up some and took the bottle back.

"Ah, alright then. Do you want to switch? There's only a few more spots to do on the back end, I could point out where for you?" His eyes blinked, big and owlish, made even larger by the lashes glued to them. "No eyes on that part." He laughed, a bit awkwardly. What was once a companionable quiet was suddenly charged with electricity, and Telly very much wished he'd been paying more attention when Alastor had leaned in like that.

"I think I can finish the yellow bits myself-- certainly don't want to be poked in an eye." Another slightly strained chuckle.

Alastor

Alastor let out just as strained a chuckle in return. “No, certainly don’t want that. You’re right, I think I...” He held out a hand for the green bottle, realized it would be almost impossible to take it while avoiding Telly’s fingers, and held out his hand palm up so he could set it down on Alastor’s hand instead. “Thank you.”

It would be quick and far less detailed than coating every individual spot of yellow in a new color. He didn’t even need to apply a solid coat, just enough to add a little shimmer. He could copy Sir Pentious’s pattern to determine where to apply the remaining green paint and slap it out in no time—and he wouldn’t have to face the temptation to repeat his near mistake.

Sir Pentious

Telly dropped the bottle into his hand, and then leaned over his tail, looking at what he'd already done. "There, there, there, and there, and there," He said, pointing out a few spots. "If you want to improvise a bit, that's fine too."

He smiled, a bit more relaxed, even if the tension between them was still present-- it helped to have something else to focus on. He straightened up and then bent to start applying paint where Alastor had left off, noticing straight away that he hadn't even been close to one of his body eyes. That was going to wriggle in the back of his mind for a while now. He pushed it away and focused on painting.

It didn't take long for him to finish up-- they'd almost been done when Alastor had stopped. He finished the last bit on his chest and turned to show Alastor. "Did I miss anything?" He lifted his chin to make sure Alastor could see everything properly.

Alastor

“I think I’ll trust your judgment!” Even better than trying to guess based on what Sir Pentious had done so far. He quietly sighed in relief and got to work finishing up the last little bits.

Alastor looked up at the question, then stood to get a better look at Telly’s chest past the ruffles. “Looks fine to m—Oh! Your hood.” He considered that conundrum for a moment. “Would the polish even stay on it with the way it, you know...” he held up his hands to separate and press together his fingers several times, “flaps like it does?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I thought about that. I'm going to try and keep it down as much as I can, and no I don't think the polish would stick well-- or it might stick it _together_ and that would be painful. I think this year it will have to stay as is." He touched the hood, petting it a bit and drawing it over his shoulder like hair briefly before letting it fall back.

"Perhaps next year we'll have enough time to find something to cover it! For today, the pearls will have to do." He pulled his fan back out and gently wafted himself-- more to make sure the paint dried than anything.

"Alright, just masks and then we're ready, correct?"

Alastor

“I believe so, yes!” He reached into a portal to pull out a shawl, mask, hat, and a few pearl strings, and went back to the vanity to put them on. First the shawl, which he tucked around his head and down into the collar of his coat; then his mask, an impishly smiling face that he’d painted bronze; then the hat, which he held in place for a moment until he’d grown his antlers up and through a pair of concealed holes; and at last the pearls, which he draped over the antlers like Mardi Gras beads over a leafless tree.

Sir Pentious

Telly got his own mask from where it sat on the bed, slithering to join Alastor by the vanity. He stopped just before putting it on to watch the antlers grow, his eyes wide.

"Oh, that's magnificent," He murmured-- before blinking and turning toward the mirror to put on his own mask. It was heavy, but luckily the ribbons allowed Hattie to take much of the weight so it wouldn't press too tightly. He turned, smiling behind it as he offered Alastor his hand. "Shall we?"

Alastor

He turned to smile at Telly—or, well, his mask was doing the smiling at this point. He could frown his heart out and nobody would know. He doubted he would. “Let’s!” He took Telly’s hand. “Onward to the beautiful town of... Swamp Ass.”

Sir Pentious

"Onward!" A beat. "Are we going through Hentai's dimension?"

Alastor

“Afraid so! Hang on to your pearls, I’d hate to see them float off somewhere.”

Sir Pentious

"I don't know that I have enough hands to hold them all down!" But he does put a hand on the ones that could easily float off. "Ready as I'll ever be!"

Alastor

“Then off we go!”

And off they went.

They emerged on the other end on a cobbled sidewalk next to a canal. In either direction several old stone bridges arched grandly over the dirty water, draped in flowery festoons in Mardi Gras colors. Old, dignified-looking stone and brick storefronts displayed local artisanal crafts and fine bakery goods—like anywhere else in Hell, the windows were protected by iron bars, but here they were fancy decorative iron bars. All along both sides of the canal and over the bridge, Carnival partiers milled about, most of them in beautiful masks of some sort, a few of them dressed better even than Alastor and Telly. It was as dignified and elegant a scene as Alastor had promised.

Several hooting partiers sped by in a motorboat, bikini tops flapping around their necks instead of where they belonged, spraying smelly water on the other side of the canal. Ah, well.

“Perhaps we should move inland.” Alastor gestured toward a narrow street that opened a couple blocks away into a large town square.

Sir Pentious

Telly took it all in, his mouth agape underneath his mask. There were so many lights and colors and-- that's when it clicked in his mind.

"OH IT'S CARNIVAL!" He nearly shouted, before his mouth snapped shut and he laughed. At the passing boat, he nodded to Alastor. "Yes, let's move away from that-- wouldn't want to ruin all our hard work!"

He continued to snicker, even as they moved, the cobbles feeling nice underneath his slithering tail. "Oh, I can't believe I didn't realize what Mardi Gras was until just now, how much of a dunderhead am I?" He laughed more, shoulders shaking slightly.

Alastor

Alastor summoned up his cane—temporarily painted to match his outfit, and he *had* attached the fake seashell to it after all—and strolled along toward the square. “Wait—you didn’t know Mardi Gras is the end of Carnival?” He laughed. “What in the world *did* you think it was?”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed harder. "I don't know! I didn't think to connect the two! I just thought it was some American holiday that came about after my death!"

Oh, the cane looked very nice. That's a nice cane. He should say that. "Your cane looks very nice!"

Alastor

“Hah! Oh no, Mardi Gras is *old!* Why, out in Louisiana there are towns that still celebrate it the way their ancestors did in France hundreds of years ago. But America is where Mardi Gras got *big!* New Orleans, specifically!” Listen to that home town pride.

“Why, *thank* you,” Mic said. “And that hat of yours is looking mighty cute—“ Alastor shoved his palm over the microphone with an amplified thud.

Sir Pentious

Hattie's eye-- much smaller now and the centerpiece of the crown, briefly went Silly Mode at the comment from mic before returning to its normal slit pupil. Telly chuckled and wrapped his arm around Alastor's, pulling him closer in the process.

"I see! I only ever briefly visited France-- But I had been in Venice and Rome for Carnival during different trips! It was quite something to see, all the costumes and colors!"

Alastor

“Isn’t it glorious!” He gestured at the costumes of the passersby—and almost whacked somebody in the head. People were walking a lot closer to him than usual. It took him a moment to realize it was because they didn’t recognize him as the Radio Demon. “New Orleans *really* takes the credit for *modern* Mardi Gras, but apparently Venice really upped its game in the last few years. At least, that’s what the Venetians down here say. For all I know, maybe they only started showing us up with the costumes in Hell and wanted to act like they’re doing it up above too. I certainly never heard anything remarkable about Venice’s Mardi Gras in life.” According to Alastor only New Orleans is allowed to be *really good* at Mardi Gras.

Sir Pentious

"From what I remember, Venice's Carnival was superb! My favorite part was throwing the balls of colored chalk! You ended up a mess at the end of the day, but it was such fun!" He laughed and gently bumped his hip into Alastor's, squeezing his arm with both of his own.

"That and exchanging flowers from carriages!"

Alastor

“Throwing *what?* You were just—what, pelting each other with extremely soft rocks?” He laughed. “Oh, that *must* have been before the fancy costumes, I can’t imagine mixing chalk messes and expensive dresses!”

Sir Pentious

"The costumes were fairly generic, but no not rocks! Little cloth sacks filled with powdered chalk! It was soft enough it wouldn't hurt most of the time, but would get everywhere!" He laughed, and then looked around.

"Are we close?"

Alastor

“Yes indeed!” They’d just come up on the square, which had several large, grand old buildings—including what looked like a cathedral, except that where one would typically expect a cross on top, it was capped with a stone hand pointing a middle finger toward Heaven. The largest amount of costumed revelers—and the ones with the campiest outfits in sight—were clustered around the doors to another large building. “There’s our destination.” With a flourish, Alastor summoned up two tickets and offered one to Telly.

Sir Pentious

Telly didn't take the offered ticket, instead whipping out his fan to snap it open and daintily fan himself. "A Lady doesn't hold tickets, my dear, that is for her chaperone to do." He fluttered his lashes behind the mask and laughed.

Alastor

“Oh!” Alastor laughed. So Sir Pentious was getting in character. “I beg your pardon, madam, you’re quite right! It would be my honor to hold on to your ticket on your behalf.”

Sir Pentious

"Good! Now, let's get inside, I am simply parched!" Was he a bit too good at the 'snooty upper class woman' bit? Perhaps he was, but considering his family, it wasn't much of a surprise.

Alastor

“As soon as we can,” Alastor said, half bowing. He certainly wasn’t surprised by the successful ‘snooty upper class woman’ bit; after all, when Sir Pentious wanted to, he pulled off the ‘snooty upper class man’ bit with aplomb.

They joined the crowd waiting outside their venue; and, within a few minutes, were inside.

Inside looked like a mix between a banquet hall and an upscale drag club with a runway set up down the middle of the room. Dinner and a show. For the moment, though, people were mostly milling about between tables while a live band played.

Sir Pentious

Telly's eyes widened when they entered the ball; there was just so much to look at! The other costumes, the decorations, the stage. Everything was so beautiful, he could hardly contain his awe. His arm stayed locked around Alastor's though, his grip turning a bit vice-like. He hand't been to a party like this in decades, and it felt like his first time all over again.

"Where to first?" He asked, with as much calm as he could muster. Which wasn't much. Surely Alastor could feel the way his hand was trembling where it gripped him.

Alastor

Alastor *wished* he could see Telly’s face. His wide eyes darting around the room were enchanting enough, and that tight grip on Alastor’s arm said the full expression must be even better.

“The choice is yours.” Alastor attended something or other for Mardi Gras almost every year, this moment was for Telly.

Sir Pentious

"Oh, I don't know where to start," He muttered, as his eyes continued to scan over the room. He would've been frozen by indecision if someone didn't clear their throat loudly behind him-- that snapped him out of it long enough to pull Alastor over to the side of the room with him.

"I forgot how, ah, many people are at functions like this." He was suddenly feeling very parched-- no it wasn't from nervousness, of course not. "Shall we get a drink to start? I'm very thirsty."

Alastor

Nervous around crowds? Alastor settled his hand over Telly’s and squeezed. “Sure! A fine way to kick off the festivities.” He looked around for the nearest table with refreshments and led Telly that way.

Sir Pentious

Telly followed along, eyes still darting every which way, now with paranoia instead of delight. Once they reached the table however, he closed his eyes and took a breath-- slow in, slow out-- and pushed aside the feeling. He was here to have a good time. He had a mask on. No one could even tell who he was, there was no reason to be nervous.

"Do they have wine? Or....what do they have at parties now? Punch? Is that what it's called?"

Alastor

“With what I paid for these tickets, they’d *better* have wine.” He paused. “Granted, it wasn’t my money, but.” Crime!! He glanced at one of the banquet tables. “They’ve got wine glasses, we’ll at least have wine with dinner.”

The refreshment table, however, seemed to primarily have champagne. It also had elaborate hors d’oeuvres on colorful plastic toothpicks. He picked up one with five different ingredients squeezed onto a cracker the size of a silver dollar and popped it in his mouth. Yum.

Sir Pentious

Oh thank fuck, alcohol. He took a glass and lifted his mask just enough to get a sip. The bubbles tingled on the way down, and he took another sip, the alcohol calming him a bit as it started to seep into his system. And then he's taking an hors d'oeuvres and popping that into his mouth too-- best to eat something before he drinks too much. It would be a bad look to get smashed straight off the bat, right?

"Dinner? Oh, I didn't know it'd be one of those types of balls." Oh, he'd have to remember table etiquette, oh no.

Alastor

“I think the plan is dinner and a fashion show by the krewe putting this ball on, and then the actual dancing part of things is going to be in another room.” He grabbed a champagne glass and took a sip. He still has his mask on, how did he did that. “Or maybe the tables are actually metal under those tablecloths and a giant magnet on the ceiling will pull them out of the way! I don’t know, I didn’t organize the event.”

Sir Pentious

Telly noticed that at last, and blinked. "How did you do that?" He asked as he very delicately took another sip and ate another snack. Hattie was doing good keeping the mask up enough to expose his mouth, allowing such things to happen, but Alastor's mask hadn't moved an inch.

"I hope dinner is soon, I'd like more than just these little hors d'oeuvres."

Alastor

“Do what?” Listen to him. So innocent. Definitely no idea what he’s talking about.

“Dinner should be starting on the hour! So, not too long now.”

Sir Pentious

Telly lowered the mask to be able to level him with a withering stare through it. "You know exactly what I mean, Alastor."

And up it goes again for another sip of champagne. "Ah, good. Shall we find seats?"

Alastor

"I'm afraid I don't!" So he says, literally as he takes another sip from his glass. Studio laughter.

"Yes, let's." He grabs a handful of hors d'oeurves to go and, since his hands are now full, offers his elbow to Sir Pentious. "Lead the way!" A few of the tables have cards set up showing they're reserved—mostly consisting of death threats to people who dares steal the reserved seats—but most are still empty.

Sir Pentious

Telly looked around, spying a rather good table that was still free. He took Alastor's arm and slithered toward it-- only for another group to descend on it. His eye twitched under his mask and he snapped his fan shut, hand twitching to turn out the gun handle.

"This one looks good," He said, smacking the reserved card off the nearest table and sitting on his coils, all the time glaring at the group that took the _preferred_ table.

Alastor

Alastor dumped his snacks on the table so he could pick up the reserved card and see what kind of threats were being leveled here. “Exciting news—we’re going to get our spines snapped!” He gave Sir Pentious a wry look. “I feel like trying to break your back would be like trying to break a rope.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, if one gets a proper grip one can break a snake's spine rather easily-- but if anyone tries to grip _me_, I'm sure we're more than equipped to deal with them." His eyes were still on the other group, narrowed to slits behind his mask, and he flicked the handle out of his fan-- and then back in. No, no, not yet. He didn't want to ruin the party so soon.

But he did make note of the costumes of the group, filing that information away for later. "If the spine snappers arrive, we can make fine work of them together."

Alastor

“Or, *or.*” Alastor leaned over and flicked the card to the ground beside the coveted next table over. “I bet the original party at this table won’t remember the *exact* table they reserved, don’t you think?”

Sir Pentious

Oh, if only Alastor could see the smile on his face right now. He surreptiously moved his tail to press on the card and then-- flick!! -- off it sailed, closer to the preferred table. And Telly flicked open the fan again, wafting himself once more and looking far too pleased with himself.

"Very true, my dear, very true. That should take care of it, don't you think?" He turned to bat his lashes at Alastor.

Alastor

*My dear.* Alastor’s bones turned to jelly and his guts filled with butterflies. He winked. “Oh, I *certainly* think so!” How long has Telly been calling him “my dear”? He’d only just caught it. It sounded so natural, it might have slipped past him earlier.

This called for more alcohol. He drained the rest of his champagne.

Sir Pentious

Another sip and Telly's was gone as well. He hummed, looking at the empty glass, and then over at Alastor. "Care to get us both refills, Al--" He caught himself at the last moment and gave a short laugh. "Darling?"

Alastor

“Darling” doesn’t liquefy his guts quite the way that “my dear” does, but it sure isn’t helping. “Of course!” He bolted up so fast his chair squeaked across the floor. Whoops.

Right, the terms of endearment were just part of the act—masquerade and all that. Didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all. Don’t read too much into it. Don’t get weird over it.

He snatched up their glasses. “I’ll be right back”—don’t say his name, they’re being incognito, grab a term of endearment—“my l—“ NO DON’T SAY THAT ONE “—liege.” *THAT WAS TERRIBLE.* He hustled away. Stupid stupid stupid stupid—

Sir Pentious

Oh, Alastor seemed out of sorts, fumbling over his words like that-- Telly wondered idly why that was, but giggling all the same at being called 'my liege'.

He hummed softly as he waited for Alastor to return, taking one of the snacks left behind and popping it into his mouth. Oh! Looked like someone was approaching the other table and picking up that reserved card. Telly hoped Alastor would get back before spines started snapping.

Alastor

Alastor was not in a rush to get back. He was going to lurk right here at the refreshment table until his breathing had steadied again and his hands weren’t shaking. Okay, haha, wow, all right. That was a totally disproportionate emotional reaction to hearing his ex’s pet name for him—you know, the same pet name that 95% of all English-speaking couples use. Not a big deal, calm down.

He crushed an empty glass with one hand. It helped a little.

He tuned out the slowly mounting sound of a disagreement until it escalated to someone bellowing, “—and your lipstick’s ugly, *bitch!*” He turned around—oh, *oh*, that was their table, wasn’t it! He snatched up two fresh glasses and hurried over, weaving through the gathering crowd so he could reconnect with Telly before the onlookers got too packed for him to squeeze through.

He offered a glass to Telly around the time the first tooth was lost, and whispered, “I missed the start of the argument, how’d it go?”

Sir Pentious

Telly had been so focused on the fight brewing, he barely noticed when Alastor returned, until he heard his voice. He leaned his body closer, fan up to cover his mouth as he lifted his mask to take a sip of his fresh glass of champagne, and then used it to whisper behind, as a lady was wont to do.

"The spine snappers came up and found the card, started accusing the others, and the others denied seeing the card, of course. Then they started insulting the spine snappers' costumes, and well--" He gestured to the brawl that was now in full swing. He moved his tail to make sure it wouldn't get trod upon in the kerfuffle, and the tip instinctively wrapped around Alastor's legs.

"That was quite the good idea, pet, sending the card over there." He giggled.

Alastor

Now, “pet” really *shouldn’t* be making his knees feel weak. It seemed a bit demeaning. He’d rip out the entrails of anyone else who dared call him such a thing. And yet, here he was, knees decidedly weakened. Hmm.

He tipped slightly forward in a half-bow. “I thought you might approve, *milady*.” At least he’d gotten that part figured out while he was at the refreshment table.

Sir Pentious

The crowd was into it now, hooting and hollering as the fight picked up intensity. Oh, and look at that, security was already heading through the crowd. Telly smiled devilishly behind his mask and fan-- what fun this was already!

"Oh yes, my lord, what a glorious evening this is turning out to be already. I hope it continues to be just as entertaining." His eyes flicked over to Alastor, and he set down his glass to slide his arm around his waist. Telly tugged him closer, purring. "Though with the present company, I'm sure it will be spectacular no matter what may occur."

Was the alcohol already getting to him? Maybe. He really needed more food.

Alastor

He’d been promoted from pet to lord so quickly! This was going to be a challenging character to play.

Or maybe not so challenging—he slid his hands behind Telly’s back and tugged him a bit closer. “Any evening at your side is magnificent.” Although the brawl was a nice bonus. A couple of people in the crowd had recognized the combatants and joined in, and for the life of him Alastor couldn’t tell whose side they were fighting on.

Sir Pentious

Another purr rumbled through him-- Heaven above, he loved to be held, and right now, by Alastor especially. He felt his heart flutter at his words, and he began to gently stroke his thumb against Alastor's side. Telly fanned himself more, and then giggled as he fanned Alastor a little, tittering like he'd seen so many of his sisters do with suitors.

His attention was drawn back to the fight right as security got in the middle-- oh! And there went someone's face. The security team pulled some of the combatants apart and began to drag them toward the exits, throwing them out on their asses. Telly couldn't help but laugh behind his mask.

"Fun! Look at them all, getting tossed from a party! What cads!"

Alastor

Was this what they were doing now? This moment sure felt romantic, was that what it was? Were they spending this evening playing pretend at being a couple? He thought he could do that. He could definitely do that.

“How uncivilized. They’re not worthy of an event like this.” Tsk, tsk.

But the show was over now... and the next table over was empty. Alastor reluctantly slid out of Telly’s hold, but only so that he could move to the next table and pull out a chair in front of one of the undamaged sets of tableware. Your seat, madam.

Sir Pentious

"Certainly not!" Telly lifted his nose and laughed. He frowned a bit when Alastor let go-- but then saw what it was he was doing, slithering over after grabbing his glass. He sat down and nodded his head to Alastor.

"Thank you, darling," He purred.

Alastor

“You’re quite welcome, honey.” He took his own seat, then paused; his grimace wasn’t visible but one could see it in his eyes. “No, I don’t like ‘honey,’ that’s far too casual. We can class this up a bit! *Cher*? No, still too casual—*mon chéri*?” Alastor propped his chin in his hand while he thought. “*Mon serpent*? My sweet snake?” He glanced over Telly’s costume. “My pearl?”

Sir Pentious

There was a little shock at being called 'honey'-- that felt far more intimate to him than the terms he'd been using. But then Alastor launched into wondering about which terms to use and he relaxed again. Of course, it was all part of being incognito, yes, that made sense. No reason for his heart to leap and flutter with every more personal petname.

"Perhaps, _mon reine?_ Or Madame de la Mer? Oh! And you can be Monsieur de la Mer!" The grin behind his mask was huge-- a pity Alastor couldn't see it. "Oh! Oh! Or maybe _mon reine de la mer!_ and then you'd be _mon roi de la mer!_"

Alastor

“Oh, hah, of course! Here you are in drag at a ball, I believe that makes you a queen by default.” *Did* it? Alastor didn’t actually know. Did crossdressing as a woman *automatically* qualify someone as a drag queen, or did it require participating in all the other little cultural rituals too? He didn’t know, he could ask somebody else sometime. Maybe Angel knew, he did drag far more than Alastor.

He leaned closer to Telly, closing the distance between them. “Queen of the sea it is. How very, *very* fitting.” Alastor nearly rested his chin on Telly’s shoulder, face shielded between the fan and Telly’s hood, and murmured adoringly, “*Ma reine de la mer... et des enfers... et de l’univers...*”

Sir Pentious

He'd been about to ask what exactly a 'drag' ball was when Alastor leaned so very close and whispered those sweet nothings to him. His breathing picked up just a tad, a fraction, as he tried to keep hold of his emotions-- don't let them run away now, Pentious, it was part of the little act they were both putting on.... Or was it? Being shielded by both fan and hood, no one else could see Alastor, no one else could hear what he was saying over the dull roar of the crowd. Perhaps....could he...?

No, no pull yourself together Pentell! He was playing the role, that was it, stop reading into it. A breath, and then another, and finally he could think enough to respond.

"_Seulement si tu es à mes côtés, mon roi._" He cooed back, his mask blocking the flick of his tongue-- and eugh, the inside of the mask neither smelt nor tasted good.

Alastor

“*Pour toujours, ma reine. Je suis à toi pour l’éternité. Nous vivons—*”

A server set a plate with the first course in front of them, startling Alastor into sitting upright—just in time for the server to deliver Alastor’s plate too. He winked at Alastor before sashaying off to the next table. Oh, how embarrassing. What had he just been saying? Good God.

“Show must be about to start,” he said, a bit too cheerfully and a bit too loudly. He loosened his mask and tilted it out with his thumb so he could start eating. (Apparently the “eat through the mask” trick only worked with small snacks and sips.)

Sir Pentious

Oh, oh, Alastor was still talking and Telly's entire body had stilled to listen, so intently. His focus, so singular, that the entire ball faded away-- until that plate was set in front of him. He realized then that he had been leaning so very close to Alastor and straightened up. Swallowing thickly, he quickly thanked the waiter, lifting his mask to begin on the first course. His hands shook a little, the whispered words replaying in his mind-- something that would likely continue the rest of the night and the next day and the next and the next....

"Oh, this looks very good." He took a small portion, as he'd been taught so long ago, and delicately put it in his mouth. "Yes, very tasty."

His eyes were drawn to the stage, where the first people were starting to strut down the runway-- the first outfit was an over the top peacock that made him gasp momentarily, and then a whole _dragon_ was the next. Oh, these were superb! He took another sip of champagne-- until the waiter returned with wine, a nice crisp white for the first course. He thanked them once again and took a sip of the new drink, and oh, was it tasty.

"Look at that artistry, mon roi, those outfits are spectacular!"

Alastor

Oh thank goodness, Telly wasn’t weirded out by it. Just playing along! Just getting in character! Totally normal!

The only thing limiting the size of Alastor’s bites was the fact that he had to get his fork under his mask without making a mess of it. He couldn’t say anything stupid as long as his mouth was full, right?”

“They’ve really upped their game lately.” The peacock tail on the first costume was so wide the model wouldn’t be able to reach across it with both arms fully outstretched, and several people at the tables nearest the stage had to duck the dragon’s wings when he turned around. “I haven’t been to one of this krewe’s events in the better part of a decade—I’ve been missing out.” He gestured at the third one, “How do you think they got that working centaur costume—? Oh, no, I think she’s actually a centaur.” Easy mistake.

He conjured up a neon pink plastic straw to let him drink his wine. Classy.

Sir Pentious

Telly glanced over and then did a double take at the straw. "Can I....can I have one of those?" He'd actually wanted to ask for one earlier but had decided against it. It _was_ a high class event after all. But if Alastor was doing it, surely then he could to!

"Oh yes, that is clever, playing into what you are in Hell-- kind of like what I did!" He laughed and took another bite.

"Look at that one! She's literally growing flowers as she walks!"

Alastor

What a spectacle. Alastor watched it admiringly. “Do you think that’s magic or mechanics?” He glanced over. Alastor got magic, but Sir Pentious was the one who knew mechanics.

Sir Pentious

At the question, his eyes narrowed trying to piece together what it was. "Hmmm, I'm thinking magic! It's too subtle and quick for it to be something mechanical, at least from my estimation."

Alastor

“It’s very well done!” Alastor wondered if he could steal the trick. If Telly liked it so much, he’d probably love getting something from Alastor that replicated the trick...

Was Alastor considering giving Telly *flowers?* Get a grip. He turned his attention to his food. (Pasta salad. Fine choice. A much better starter than salad salad.)

Sir Pentious

"Yes, it is!" He finally actually looked at what he was eating-- oh, pasta! He knew that. But it was cold. Interesting! It definitely tasted good. Telly took another bite.

"Mm, I've never had cold pasta before-- well, not intentionally." He chuckled.

Alastor

“I’ve usually seen it as a side!” He was picking around at the salad now, inspecting the ingredients—ham, salami, olives... Ah, he recognized this. “This is a muffuletta pasta salad! Local speciality! Swamp Ass’s population is about half Louisianan, half Italian—and muffulettas come from the New Orleanian Italian population.” Listen to that Home Town Pride in his voice. “I had them on sandwiches when I was alive! Down here they tend to switch out the bread for pasta. That’s one of the things I love about this holiday, *everyone* wants to eat like they’re from New Orleans.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh! Excellent, I've still been meaning to try some good New Orleanian fair! Do you think all the courses will be from your neck of the woods?" He takes another few bites, making contented snake noises. He raised his glass again-- but it clinked against the underside of his mask and he made a frustrated noise.

He looked at Alastor's straw and then just reached over and-- yoink!-- plucked it out. He put it in his own wine and used it to sip. Much better. Alastor could make another one.

Alastor

Alastor laughed. “I’m so sorry, you asked for a straw earlier and I got distracted by the flowers, didn’t I?” He waited until Telly stopped sipping, stole back his own straw, and summoned up an elaborate curly straw to drop in Telly’s wine glass. “There!” Curly straws were infinitely more fun.

“Why didn’t you tell me you want to try New Orleanian food! If I’d known, I’d have been loading you down with more jambalaya and gumbo than you’d know what to do with!” Well, he definitely knows now. “I’d say we’ll either be getting New Orleanian, or some sort of Louisianan-Italian fusion cuisine. Speaking of, the Cajun chicken pasta in this town is to die for, I’ve got half a dozen different restaurants I could take you to just to eat that alone. If you’re ever willing to drop a hundred bucks a plate, there’s even a place around here that gets proper seafood in it, and *oh* is it worth it!”

Sir Pentious

"I thought I'd told you that before, hadn't I? That I haven't tried any?" He pondered that before shrugging. "Well, no matter! But yes, I would love to try more-- especially since it is your forte and all, you'd be the one to know the best of the best. Whether you're cooking it or from a restaurant!" He oogled the curly straw and smiled-- a little hint of it visible under his lifted mask-- and took another sip of his wine.

His plate was polished off quickly and the waiter came to take the first course and replace it with the second. "So, what's this one?" He asked, looking to Alastor.

Alastor

“... My memory must be slipping.” Gee, was it possible that Alastor had a hard time focusing whenever he was around Sir Pentious? Hmm! Far-fetched, but worth considering! “You probably did! I’ll, uh—keep it in mind this time.”

When the plates were switched out, his eyes were on the current performer on stage—a strip tease that, impressively, exposed a second costume that was somehow larger than the first. “What? Oh!” He looked down at the main course—and laughed. “Well, speaking of jambalaya! Doesn’t quite look like my recipe, but...” He poked around it a bit, examining the ingredients. “Well—they used orzo instead of rice! And that’s a lot more tomato than I’d put in. Definitely a fusion cuis—*did they put cheese on it?*” He scooped up a forkful to examine it. Definitely Parmesan. “They put *cheese* on *jambalaya*?” He looked at Telly in deep affront. “These people put cheese on jambalaya!” Who were these monsters?

Sir Pentious

Telly merely stared at him back, spoon halfway to his mouth. He finished the movement, letting the taste roll around his tongue. HM. Definitely odd, with that cheese.

"Yes, that is definitely cheese. Should there not be cheese?" His head tilted, and he took another sip of his wine. Oh, look at that, the glass was empty. He looked around and-- oh! the waiter was there already, refilling with that same tasty white.

"I think the texture of the cheese in it is a bit....odd, but the flavor seems fine to me?" Was that the wrong thing to say? He was about to find out!

Alastor

“There should most certainly *not* be cheese!” He tried it. He thought about it. He shrugged. “Well. All together, it tastes fine. But I wouldn’t call it *jambalaya.* It’s half as spicy as it should be.” He leaned over to nudge Telly’s elbow. “If you think it tastes fine, that’s what matters!”

Sir Pentious

Oh, good! He puffed a bit at the nudge and words. Yes, he did think it tasted good! Different, but that was also good! He continued to eat, and then noticed the runway again-- a sparkling butterfly demon flew above it, her wings glittering and dropping said glitter dust with every flap. The effect was stunning and he stared as she did a twirl in the air.

"Oh, that's gorgeous-- look at how the lights play off her wings!"

Alastor

Alastor quietly reached over to steal Sir Pentious’s fan and shielded their plates from the dust until she’d left the runway. “It probably works better in parades than at dinner,” he laughed. “Do you think the ‘fairy’ pun is intentional, or...?”

Sir Pentious

He hadn't even thought about the food-- a lot of others seem to be grumbling about it now, and he laughed. "Yes, likely works better that way. And perhaps! With that much glitter, anything could be possible."

Telly looked down at himself, and then over at Alastor, and giggled again. They were covered in the stuff. "Well, now everyone can shine as brightly as she!"

Alastor

Alastor played a line from a song, "*Let's all be fairies~*" and then cut it off. To his delight, someone at another table over sang the next line. Alastor waved. Another old fogey!

He attempted, unsuccessfully, to brush the dust off his sleeve. "If only we'd known, we could have saved some time painting your scales!" ... Which reminded him of what he'd nearly done while painting Sir Pentious. Wow this weird orzo jambalaya sure is fascinating all of a sudden.

Sir Pentious

"Hmm, maybe, but I still like the effect of the paint better!" He laughed and his tail moved up to wiggle at Alastor. Telly returned to eating as well, trying to not just shovel it into his mouth as he'd gotten used to. He had to act proper, remember all the etiquette that had been drilled into him since childhood. He finished his jambalaya and then looked at his wine. Oh. It had glitter in it. He took out the straw and held it up, looking for a waiter-- and oh, there they were, instantly replacing his glass with a fresh and clean one.

And he cleans the straw with a napkin and puts it back in the wine. Siiiiip. Ah, tasty. He wasn't drunk yet, but he definitely felt the alcohol affecting him, and it showed in the way the tip of his tail moved to just curl around Alastor's ankle under the table. That was his leg now.

Alastor

Alastor wasn’t quite drunk himself yet, either; but the reminder of how close he’d gotten to getting completely out of line—*and how glorious it had been*—was pushing him to drink a little faster than he should, too.

And also prompted him to scoot his foot a little closer to Telly when he felt that tail tip coiling around it. If he wanted it, it was his.

Sir Pentious

The third course came upon them, and Telly purred. He hadn't had a proper three course meal in forever, this was wonderful. And all the costumes, and the lights, and the wine, it all had him feeling giddy and light. Before he started the next course, he reached over and took Alastor's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Thank you for taking me here, this has been the best night and we're not even to the middle of it. I truly, deeply appreciate this, mon roi. I am having the very best time, and it's because you're here with me that it's even more special." Oh, those were words that he'd just said, weren't they? He let go of Alastor's hand to pick up his wine and take another sip. Just try to play it off as something totally casual, yes, that was good.

Alastor

*Oh.* Alastor squeezed Sir Pentious’s hand. “Thank you for letting me take you, *ma reine*. I’ve gone to something or other for Mardi Gras nearly every year since I’ve died, but I can’t remember the last time it was this fun, and the night’s hardly begun! Why, we’d beaten some Mardi Gras I’ve had before we even got off the airship! The company is what makes all the difference. All that, and we’re still two days away from Mardi Gras itself! It’s only...”

Valentine’s Day. Right, he’d almost let himself forget that part again. He swallowed hard and withdrew his hand to his own cutlery and plate again. Some kind of bread pudding and a scoop of ice cream—oh, how nice, they’d drizzled the ice cream with Mardi Gras colored syrups. He took a couple bites of the bread pudding just to say he had, then said, “I’m not a fan of desserts, do you want mine?”

Sir Pentious

Telly started in on his-- oh, that was _delightful!_ He made pleased noises as he continued to eat, the sweetness washing away the embarrassment he'd felt. At Alastor's question he turned and nodded, mouth still full. He reached and pulled the plate toward himself-- and then took Alastor's hand again, just holding it as he ate with the other, his thumb rubbing over Alastor's knuckles.

Alastor

And once more, that hand belonged to Sir Pentious and Alastor was happy to let him have it. For a few minutes, he was content to sit there silently, watching the end of the show and enjoying the chill that went up his arm each time Telly’s thumb moved.

Sir Pentious

He finished his dessert quickly, and then started in on Alastor's-- Mm, just as good. His thumb continued to stroke while he ate, too intent on the dessert to even pay attention to the end of the show. But then everyone was clapping, and he put down his spoon in a hurry to start clapping too. He did want to show his support after all!

Once the clapping stopped, his hands resumed their positions, one holding Alastor's and the other with the spoon, and he finished his dessert. Taking another sip of his wine and polishing off that glass, he lowered his mask back down again.

"So, dancing is next, correct?"

Alastor

“Right!” Right. God. Dancing. He’d been so focused on the show and the dinner he’d completely forgotten that he’d signed himself up for dancing with Sir Pentious. Could he handle that without doing something stupid?

He stood abruptly, pulling his hand back. “The wine’s getting to me. I need air.” He looked around for a restroom, a hallway, something. “I’ll be right back. I won’t be long, just—holler into the nearest radio if you need something.”

Sir Pentious

Telly blinked and nodded. "Oh! Yes, alright, I'll-- I'll just be here." He pulled his wine glass closer, before catching the attention of a waiter. He quietly asked if they had a red, and was rewarded with a fresh glass. Telly popped the straw in and slid it under his mask, taking sips as he waited.

His hand held his fan, stroking along it and twitching every now and then, wanting to pull out the handle and use it to cause some chaos. But no. He wouldn't do that. This night was going well, and he wouldn't ruin it now.

And then he was approached by someone else and he looked up, starting up some polite small talk, mostly if only to wait out the time Alastor was away.

Alastor

Alastor did manage to find a hallway, and then a staircase, and then another hall, and within a couple minutes was up on a balcony. He took off his mask, leaned on the railing, and looked down at the partiers in the square below. All right. Time to take stock.

Things were going great. Things were going *too* great. Telly, thus far, had been very sweet. Telly had been *too* sweet. In his heart of hearts Alastor knew Telly was just playing along with the game that they’d started by (and Alastor had to reiterate this to himself) going to a *gay ball* in *masquerade* on *Valentine’s Day,* which was *entirely Alastor’s fault*—but so much of it didn’t feel like a game, and he wanted so badly to tell himself that it was more.

But it wasn’t more. Telly was playing along. And, more than that, Telly was *taken*—remember that part? Anything Alastor thought he might read into Telly’s behavior thus far was in Alastor’s own semi-drunk head. Any touchy-feely-ness or effusive sentiment was just... how Victorian friendships were.

But what if Alastor was wrong and he passed up a chance...?

But he wasn’t wrong.

Dancing.

He could handle the dance without doing something unforgivable. Right? Unless somebody in the past had taught Sir Pentious how to dance with his new anatomy, he would probably say he missed dancing and Alastor would ask why he *didn’t* dance and Sir Pentious would say something like “*I have a little trouble keeping up with the footwork*” and Alastor would have the option to help him, or not. And all he had to do was *not*. That was it. Particularly here, in public, with people around who would notice if Alastor started pulling out magic tricks to help a snake glide across the dance floor. Instead he could tell Telly that he didn’t mind staying to the side with him, or maybe at most they could hold hands and sway a bit. And it would be fine.

He took one last breath of ~~fresh night air~~ muggy Swamp Ass fumes, put his mask back on, and went back inside.

Sir Pentious

By the time Alastor returned, the dancing was in full swing, the stage having sunk down into the floor (and Telly had been VERY curious about the mechanisms required to do that) to make space for the dancing. Couples twirled around the space, laughing and having a nice time.

Telly stood off to the side, having left the table as the workers started to clean them up. He held a fresh glass of wine, the silly straw stuck under his mask as he drank, his fan in the other hand idly wafting air at himself. He was glad for it, too, since masks did get awfully stuff, especially ones that were full face. After his initial conversation, more people had approached him, making more small talk, and some were now asking him to dance.

"No, no, I cannot," He said, covering his masked face with his fan. "I would say I have two left feet, but alas, I have no feet at all! I simply couldn't." He laughed and tittered, playing up the role of Queen of the Sea. The demon he turned down shrugged and walked off-- but was almost immediately replaced with another, begging his favor. Seemed like he was popular now! Might even have a line forming behind the current suitor-- a small crab-like demon, speaking in a deep Cajun accent.

Alastor

He heard music by the time he reached the bottom of the staircase—had the dancing already started? Alastor had been away longer than he’d thought. He picked up the pace to reach the banquet hall-turned-ballroom.

And there was *la reine de la mer*—attracting an audience, to Alastor’s pleasant surprise. Over the last half century he’d gotten so used to seeing Sir Pentious in isolation, shunned.

He caught up just in time to catch the *no left feet* pun, and wheezed a laugh even as his heart gave a painful squeeze—wasn’t that nearly exactly what he’d thought Sir Pentious would say about dancing? Some dumb foot pun? At the last moment, Alastor decided not to walk right up to Telly but rather to join the line, standing slightly out of it so that he was clearly visible from the front, examining his gloves boredly like he was just another guest waiting for a shot at the pretty snake in the pearls.

Sir Pentious

Telly took another sip of his wine, letting the Cajun crab make his attempt before rebuffing him all the same. It was then that he caught sight of Alastor waiting in line-- and oh, wasn't that just like him? To just hop in and see what Telly would do? A warmth that had nothing to do with the wine spread through Telly's chest. He stood up a little taller, staring down the next demon with all the regal authority he could bring to bear-- which was actually a substantial amount. What a change this must, from the Telly that Alastor normally saw.

The next demon-- actually the centaur from the show-- made their plea and Telly let the silence hang between them, as if considering the offer.

"Well, we would have the proper amount of feet, were I to join you, sweet one, but I'm afraid I simply could not-- Lord Poseidon would be terribly upset to have his Queen Amphitrite dance with one of Chiron's people!" He tittered and turned his face away, waving his fan in dismissal. There was now just one person between him and Alastor, and Telly smirked. Snapping his fan shut, he used it to simply push the next one aside handing off his wine glass as he did, slithering up to Alastor instead.

"And whom approaches but my Lord himself, waiting in line like common rabble-- come, my love, surely you need not wait. Take what is yours, by right." He flicked the fan open and held out his hand for Alastor to kiss-- or do what he would.

Alastor

Oh! He was getting *into* it! Alastor had always known Sir Pentious had a streak for showmanship, but he was getting downright theatrical. It was *captivating* to watch. It was hammy and melodramatic and over-the-top and a dozen other words that most people used to mean “bad over-acting” but *here*, out of *Sir Pentious*, it was bombastic magnificence, and it suited him *perfectly.*

And he’d put on that show for *Alastor.* Something in Alastor’s chest felt full, like his heart was poised on the precipice of taking a beat, waiting for some cue it hadn’t yet received.

“My dearest Amphitrite.” He took Telly’s hand lovingly, pressed the cold lips of his mask softly to the fingers. “I can only take what you’re generous enough to offer me! As far as I’m concerned, I *am* one of the common rabble, waiting humbly to receive your favor. As I have been since the moment I set eyes on you, and as I always will be.”

*He could handle the dance,* Alastor had thought. *It would be fine,* Alastor had thought. *He wasn’t going to do something unforgivable like immediately take advantage of the fact that he’d just been cast as the god of the sea to metaphorically confess his feelings,* Alastor had thought—

Sir Pentious

Oh, those words-- His heart felt fit to burst, and his breathing kicked up a tic. But no, no, control yourself Telly, Alastor was just playing the part. He was a consummate showman after all. The show must go on. But perhaps....

Well, as long as they were playing this game, he might as well lay it on thick, right? He was allowed that, wasn't he?

"My King, my Lord, you, common? Nonsense! You hold my heart, precious thing that it is. How can you say you are something common when you hold the heart of the Queen of the Seas? Do you seek to so debase your Queen? No! You are as kingly as any mortal king, moreso, even! No other Lord could dare to hold me so tightly-- I would burst free of their confines! But for you, I sit so meekly, for your love, I let you hold me tight."

He got closer and closer with every word, not even noticing the crowd they'd drawn with their antics. His face was so close to Alastor's now, they would be sharing breath were it not for the masks.

"Lord Poseidon, do you not love me enough to raise yourself up, so that you may carry me to even greater heights?" The words were whispered, an undercurrent to them that Telly hadn't meant-- a truth to the grandioseness that he desperately wanted to draw back in the moment it left.

Alastor

His breath stopped and started and stopped again, some needle in his chest shuddering as it spun from station to station, searching for the right song to score the scene and coming up blank. “I’d never so insult you, *ma reine*! Why, if I heard any common sailor claim your heart could fit in a mortal’s hands, I’d capsize his ship and drag him beneath the waves. However, Poseidon is only a king so long as Amphitrite makes him one! Without your touch, I’m just another tired sea monster sleeping beneath the waves, an unfinished potential demigod who only climbed halfway up Olympus before losing my strength and falling back down. It’s because I can hold you that I can be a god.”

He cupped a hand around Sir Pentious’s mask, thumb tracing the sculpted snakes that curled across its cheek. “But you were not born to sit meekly,” he hissed, a dangerous static noise like the distant crash of a tsunami beneath his words, “not for my love or anyone else’s. I’ll run myself through with a harpoon before I see you lower yourself on my account. But for your love, my queen, I’ll raise myself to your level—for your love, I’d lift us both all the way to Heaven above.”

Sir Pentious

Pink eyes stared through the holes in his mask, meeting red, lashes fluttering as he blinked. The touch to his mask-- he swore he could feel it, the way it burned like a brand upon his cheek. His hand came up to cover Alastor's immediately, holding it there-- he wanted that burn to sear straight inside of his head. His other hand snapped the fan shut and wrapped around his waist, tugging him in.

"Do not threaten yourself so-- I could not go on were you to leave me in such a manner. I will not lower myself, and you will raise me higher, my King, and all of Olympus will tremble neath the combined might of the sea." His eyes closed in that moment, forgetting everything but Alastor's touch-- and he leaned in, their masks clinking together in a pantomime of a kiss. He wanted more than anything to just rip them from their faces and kiss Alastor with all the passion he could muster.

But that moment was when the crowd around them erupted in applause and he snapped out of it. He pulled back, trying not to seem too frantic. He held Alastor's hand still, but pulled it from his mask, straightening and snapping his fan back out. Trying to regain some semblance of control, he bowed to their audience, forcing his breathing back into a normal rhythm.

Alastor

Everything Alastor wanted—deification and deicide and conquest and cruelty, for Icarus to touch the sun and for the Tower of Babel to touch the heavens—all offered to him in a single sentence, and without thinking he leaned in to accept it, his arm sliding behind Sir Pentious’s back, his eyes sliding shut, their masks pressed together so close Alastor could nearly taste Telly’s lips—

And then the show was over and the curtain fell. His eyes snapped open, the needle in his chest wrenched back to its usual station, and he was bowing sheerly out of an entertainer’s instinct before his mind had fully transitioned back from the ocean to the Inferno.

Sir Pentious

Telly was fanning himself a bit more now, just to have something to do with the hand that wasn't still gripping Alastor's. He bowed again, and someone tossed him a bouquet, which he _somehow_ caught. He blinked wide eyes and looked at Alastor, before looking back to the crowd.

"Ah, thank you?" He said, starting to slowly slither backward, towing Alastor with him. "We should-- Ah...Go get some more refreshments now, after a performance like that." He swallowed thickly and turned to go towards the drink table.

Alastor

Alastor went stiff when a big rustly projectile whizzed by just past him—oh, no, good projectile, safe projectile. Wow. Exactly how into it had they gotten? He wished he’d been paying better attention to their audience, he should have been drinking in their approval. He... actually, he didn’t know when he’d last been applauded, by strangers, sincerely.

His hand in Telly’s felt electric, and a shock jolted up his arm when Telly tugged on him. “Right! A fine idea.” His voice sounded thin and tinny. He followed in a haze—what just happened, how *real* was it?

Sir Pentious

A panic coursed through Telly's veins, like his heart was pumping fire-- Why had he done that? It was so stupid, he got so caught up in it! But still he kept Alastor close, he didn't want to make it seem like his haste had anything to do with getting away from _him_ after all.

Once at the champagne table, he released Alastor's hand, needing both of his to raise his mask and down one glass like a shot. And then he took another, sipping on this one. The action calmed him, at least somewhat, even if his mind still screamed in the background.

"That...That was something, wasn't it? I've never had an impromptu performance-- or any performance actually. They applauded us, that means it...it was good right?" Oh, he was rambling a bit, but he couldn't stop himself. "They must've liked it, they threw me a bouquet. I wonder if they thought it was part of the show of the ball? Odd. Never drew a crowd like that unless I was inciting violence--" He started to just drink champagne to shut himself up. _Stop it, you're being weird, Pentell._

Alastor

Don’t look at Alastor, he’s chugging champagne too. He didn’t quite pull off whatever magic trick lets him drink directly through the mask, and a thin stream of it ran over the mask’s curved smiling lip.

“It certainly was something! *Goodness,* you’re just—just a natural at improv, aren’t you! First violin duets, now... You’re holding out on me, you’ve got some practice partner you’re hiding somewhere, aren’t you?” Studio laughter. Did Alastor sound slightly hysterical? He did to his own ears. He decided he should drink champagne about it. “I’m sure they thought it was all par for the course—what’s a masquerade without a couple of natural performers putting on a little show, after all? But *my*, was that a Broadway-worthy performance! You almost had *me* convinced you’re really the queen of the sea...” *Almost had me convinced you really meant it.*

Sir Pentious

Don't worry Alastor, he's not looking because he too is chugging that champagne. How much until the panic goes away entirely? He was determined to find out.

"Mm, no, no practice, just always been good at thinking on my feet." He looked down and after a beat continued. "Or on my tail. It seemed a natural thing to do, considering where we are and all. Where's a better spot to have a dramatic little scene than at a ball? We'd call one without at least five a dull affair in my time."

Alastor

He wheezes at the “or on my tail” bit like it’s not only the funniest quip he’s heard all night, but also the last in a long line of funny quips that have left him with no spare breath to laugh. “Oh... you know, I haven’t kept count, but five seems like a good, solid number. I suppose we’ve had two so far, our performance and then that brawl at the start...” He turned around and leaned back against the refreshment table with a heavy sigh. “What troublemakers we are.”

Telly’s face was half exposed, it would be so easy for Alastor to slide off his own mask and—oh, no, no no no no. Don’t ruin this, don’t ruin this.

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed too, feeling a bit of the panic washing away-- See, Alastor was acting normally? Ish? Everything was fine. It was fine! He downed another full glass of champagne, before grabbing another to sip, once more.

"Indeed. I havn't had this much fun since-- well since we last were together." He laughed again, softer this time, a finger trailing around the rim of his glass. Telly raised it to take another sip-- one more for courage.

"Ala-- My lord, would you....care to dance? I'm not good by any means, not good enough to keep up with your fancy footwork, but perhaps, if it's a slow song and we can just do that thing that many movies have people do now, just sort of...stand and sway. I do miss dancing...."

Alastor

Alastor's heart made a single painful thud. He downed the rest of his second glass—God was he going to regret this in the morning—then turned to Sir Pentious and held out his hand. "My lady, it would be my unparalleled delight." Don't do anything stupid. He could handle this without doing anything stupid. Right?

Sir Pentious

Telly's smile was clear from how his mask was currently and he finished off his glass as well. He set it aside, and lowered the mask again, offering his hand to Alastor.

"Shall we the, darling?"

Alastor

He felt like he'd spent half the night with his hand in Telly's and it still wasn't enough, he felt like it was never going to be enough. "Let's."

He found a spot near the edge of the dance floor where they were out of the way of the non-dancing pedestrians but wouldn't collide with the more enthusiastic dancers in the middle of the room. Perfect place to just hold each other and sway.

Sir Pentious

Telly almost put his hand on Alastor's waist, as if he were going to lead-- but no, he was the lady in this instant. He placed his hand on his shoulder instead, his other holding Alastor's in the proper dancing stance he was used to. Though, now that he thought about, the swaying in more modern movies had the lady putting both her arms on the shoulders....

Ah, it would be fine like this. He pressed close to Alastor, trying to keep himself from chewing his lip under his mask. Wouldn't do to bleed on his costume after all.

They drew eyes-- after the spectacle of all Telly's refusals and then that dramatic performance, how could they not? Telly hardly noticed, though, eyes only for Alastor.

Alastor

Alastor was completely oblivious to their audience, and almost barely even conscious of the music. He was slightly dizzy as they danced, and he wasn't sure if it was all the alcohol or the giddiness or the motion of the swaying itself.

He slid his hand from Telly's waist to his back and rested his head on Telly's shoulder. He was just getting his balance back, that was all.

Sir Pentious

Telly smiled at the closeness, and leaned his head against Alastor's in turn. Oh, this was very nice-- he felt so warm inside. He also couldn't tell if that was from the alcohol or being able to hold Alastor like this. Swaying was easier than actually dancing, and felt far more intimate, but that didn't send the panic through him like it would've before-- he felt so content right now, he never wanted to go anywhere else.

Alastor

"Why did you send off everyone else that asked you to dance?" Alastor asked without lifting his head. "They were lining up for a shot with you. You didn't have to wait for me."

Sir Pentious

Oh. Oh he hadn't been expecting to be asked that. He didn't let himself freeze, kept swaying-- what was this song? He'd never heard it before-- No, _focus_ Pentell.

"I didn't want to dance with anyone else."

Alastor

"Really?" Alastor chuckled. "Well. Aren't I the luckiest man in the room?"

Sir Pentious

A purr started deep in his chest, and he held Alastor closer. "Yes, incredibly lucky. The only person I want to dance with, you get all of me to yourself." He chuckled softly.

Alastor

"Too bad for everyone else." His arms curled possessively around Telly. For a few minutes, this was all his.

The booze was catching up with him—just enough that his usually sharp grasp of time was slipping out of his fingers, and enough that he forgot to ask himself whether he had moved outside the bounds of even Sir Pentious's remarkably permissive standards for friendship. He was content to stay right here as long as he was allowed, riding high on gilded dreams of conquering Heaven, warm and drunk and happy.

Sir Pentious

Telly didn't mind, not in the slightest-- alcohol suffusing his system, he was content to just stand here and sway for the rest of eternity, locked in the arms of his-- His.....friend.... Just a friend. Yes, of course, this-- this was all just friendly, that's all. He'd keep that repeating in his head until it felt real. Maybe that would squash the soaring of his heart.

He stayed like that, contented and swaying, not noticing as party-goers started filtering out. Even when the music shut off, he didn't notice, or care. But the lights flicking on, now that was something he definitely noticed, and he lifted his head to squint as a waiter approached them.

"_Pardon, messieurs. L'événement se termine et je crains que nous ne devions humblement vous demander de partir._" The waiter said, and Telly straightened up, giving a nod.

Alastor

Alastor opened his eyes for the first time in the last three songs, blinked blearily at the waiter, and muttered a vague protest in a thick twangy Cajun accent. No, wait, right, he remembered where he was, they were at an *event.* They couldn’t stay all night.

He straightened up with a sigh—although he briefly clutched tighter at the back of Telly’s dress. “Can you believe it? Us, getting kicked out like a couple of common vagabonds?” His voice is OOZING disapproval.

Sir Pentious

Oh, the clutching had his breath catch, and it took a minute for his brain to catch up with what Alastor said. He smiled under his mask, flicking out his fan again, back straightening.

"Hm! Yes, it's atrocious! We are Gods, and will leave when we deign to, not when told." He stared down the waiter who began to sweat under his gaze.

"Look into my eyes, whelp." He commanded, and the waiter complied-- and then the waiter stiffed momentarily before his body loosened and began swaying as if to music. "_You will gather the other waiters and leave this ballroom, and not return until day breaks._"

His voice was layered with a strange sort of effect, making it seem to echo and ring oddly in the ear. The waiter nodded, eyes filling with a pink haze as he turned and went about the orders. Once he was far enough away, Telly sagged, leaning against Alastor.

"Oh, didn't expect....I think I need air, darling." He fanned himself more.

Alastor

Even *Alastor* was compelled by it. He took a half step after the waiter, nearly following him before his still-clutched hands prevented him from going farther and he snapped out of it.

He shook his head, blinking dazedly. “I always forget you can do that.” Good thing Alastor hadn’t been making eye contact, or he’d probably be halfway out the door too. But being unusually sensitive to sound and particularly drunk was enough.

He shifted his grip to better help support Telly’s weight and keep him upright. “Let’s head outside.” Alastor laughed, “Before one of the krewe organizers finds the hypnotized hired help and comes to investigate!”

Sir Pentious

"I don't like to do it much, it always tires me out." He slithered along sluggishly, leaning on Alastor, the cheek of his mask pressed against the top of Alastor's head.

"It was fun, though, wasn't it? Heh, never thought I'd hypnotize a waiter for politely asking me to leave an event." He giggled. And oh, the thought suddenly hit him that he was _very_ drunk. And then there were more giggles.

Alastor

“For emergency use only! Hah! Hell of an emergency we’ve got here, isn’t it?” His studio audience laughed raucously, what comedy. He leaned on Telly in an attempt to speak more directly to him, nearly accidentally dragging them off course. “They oughta have known better than to tell a god what to do.”

Sir Pentious

Telly stumbled a bit-- though how a snake stumbled, he'd be baffled by for all eternity-- and giggled more. "Oh, Alastor, you're hilarious!" Even more giggles.

"Hmmm, yes, should've known better after my performance earlier! Won't settle to be talked to by the _help_." He snickered. Once outside, he took a few breaths and then moved his mask to take better breathes. And you know what? Off the mask came completely. It took a few tires, but he used the ribbons to tie it to his belt, so as not to lose it.

He turned to grin at Alastor, taking his masked face in his hands to press a kiss to the nose of his mask-- my, my someone was feeling brave. "Thank you, for all of this, Alastor. I truly felt like a goddess this whole night."

Alastor

That giggle was as good as having a packed auditorium give him a standing ovation. “Oh I know, I’m a riot! But feel free to remind me any time.”

He went perfectly still as Telly kissed him—even through the mask, he could feel it on his nose’s tip, a warm tingle spreading up the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks. If he took his mask off, he could...

No. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. It would ruin everything. (But God, God he WANTED IT.) He pursed his lips forward to kiss the inside of his own mask—that was all he could do. “You should feel like that every single day and night. Someday you *will.*”

Alastor couldn’t keep looking in Telly’s eyes. He turned away, gaze sweeping over the square and the other late night stragglers heading home from the ball. “I’m thinking about next year’s plans!” Change the topic back to something safe.

Sir Pentious

He let him change the subject, his arm wrapping around Alastor's waist to continue walking-- though the pace was nice and slow, Telly didn't know if he had it in him to slither any faster.

"Mm, what were you thinking? Something extravagant and wild, I'm hoping? Something worthy of us, the King and Queen of the Sea?" He purred the words, pulling Alastor close against his side.

Alastor

“We *could* do that! It’s certainly an option. Or—*or*—we could get some cheap polyester costumes we’ll throw away the next day, and run around pelting everyone’s expensive velvets and brocades with chalk!” Even with his mask on, Alastor’s mischievous glee was visible in his eyes.

Sir Pentious

Oh look at his eyes going instantly silly mode at the suggestion. The grin on his face is as wide as Alastor's mask and he let out a loud laugh.

"Oh yes! Wouldn't that just ruffle the feathers of all of the hoity-toitys! And bring back a favorite tradition of Carnival as well! They residents of Swamp Ass won't know what hit them-- until they discover it's chalk!" He stopped slithering to bounce in place a little. "OH WE COULD DO WATER BALLOONS TOO! FILL THEM WITH COLORED DYES!! WHAT FUN THAT WOULD BE!!"

Alastor

“*Yes!* Fill ‘em up with swamp water! They’ll be dyed *and* stink to high heaven! Nobody’s getting their costume rental deposits back next year, hahaaa!”

Sir Pentious

Telly started cackling wildly, so much so he had both arms around Alastor simply trying to keep himself vertical. "Oh, Alastor, it's GENIUS!"

And his hand is cupping the side of his masked face again, and pressing a kiss to the cheek this time-- the drunk snake is feeling EXCEEDINGLY brave!

Alastor

Alastor couldn’t take it, that gleeful cackle, that praise, that *kiss*— In his frantic fumbling attempt to untie the mask’s ribbon, he snapped its adhesive on one side. Before the mask hit the ground, Alastor had one arm around Telly’s neck, one hand behind Telly’s head, and his lips on Telly’s lips.

Sir Pentious

Oh. Oh! Some part of his brain registered that this _wasn't_ something purely platonic, but that part was quietly beat to death by the rest that screamed in vindication at the kiss. The hand on Alastor's cheek slid to the back of his head, tangling in his hair as he kissed back, ravenous.

It took a bit for him to pull back, breathing hard, every nerve alight, and he blinked owlishly. "I-I...ah, well, we-we should-- we should head back now, shouldn't we? It's...it's late, we've...we've had a lot to drink, we should....we should go back....Probably...should stay at the hotel tonight...." He rambled on, brain trying to put things in order, still punchdrunk from the kiss. But he still held tight to Alastor, his arm around him, crushing the Radio Demon to his side as he fanned himself, trying to regain some composure.

Alastor

He’d missed this, he’d missed this, he’d missed this, half a century of heavy aching grieving longing tumbled off his shoulders and crashed to the ground and he felt light enough to float, he felt like pure energy bouncing between the clouds. A hundred radios in every direction started singing “—Loving you the way that I do, there's nothing I can do about it. Loving may be all you can give, but baby I can’t live without it*—“

And the second Sir Pentious pulled back, the weight crushed him again. Oh, God, what had he done? That was *far* over the line, that left the line vanishing behind them over the horizon, what the Hell had he been thinking, he’d ruined everything, he’d lost everything he’d just had, couldn’t even control himself for one God damned evening without losing what little he had, and for the third time he was going to ruin everything he had with Sir Pentious by stupidly, stupidly *falling* like this and not being able to *keep it to himself*—

He couldn’t stand being held so tightly. He melted out of Sir Pentious’s grip, a shadow, reforming just outside his arms. “Yes! You’re right, I—Look at us, we’re making utter fools of ourselves, aren’t we. I’m... so sorry. High time we head out.” He hesitated; then held out his hand, palm up, shoulders hunched and stiff, looking away. “I’ve got to... you know. Portal. Safety.”

Sir Pentious

He'd been using Alastor to support himself, and when he melted out, Telly fumbled and fell. He caught himself with his hands against the cobbles, blinking-- What had just happened? His head was ringing and he could feel a pressure behind his eyes, burrowing into his brain. He stood slowly and dusted himself off.

"...Right, right. Yesss, let'sss-- Let'sss go." He took Alastor's hand, slowly, carefully, unsure and cautious after that. "The hotel, if you would, Alassstor."

Alastor

Here he was, rambling like a drunken idiot, registering a full ten seconds late the *fwump* of a giant noodle flopping to the ground. A loud beep covered up a swear as he rushed to offer support, nearly flinched back—*don’t do too much, don’t offer too much*—then completed the motion anyway. “I am *so* sorry, I— How utterly careless of me, are you alright?”

Sir Pentious

"Yess, yess, I'm fine." He accepted the help, standing up back on his tail, blinking. He pressed his fan to his head and wobbled a bit. "I think I need to lay down, though. Everything'ss ssstarting to ssswim." He held Alastor's hand, a bit too tightly.

Alastor

“Of course. Are you alright to travel through a portal, or...?” He needed to get a better way to transport Telly around if they were going to keep doing things like this—

—but they weren’t, were they? Not anymore.

Sir Pentious

"I think ssso, if I clossse my eyesss. Jussst....maybe teleport usss into a bathroom. I may need to....you know.....after the trip." He held tight to Alastor, eyes squeezed closed, ready to be teleported.

Alastor

Alastor grimaced. “Should have planned our ride home, shouldn’t we.” Nothing to do about it now but grin and bear the travel sickness. “All right.” One last time, he’d let himself wrap his arms around Telly—just to keep him safe. “On three, two, one...”

A few seconds of floating, and they were in a bathroom at the hotel. Without even asking Alastor leaned over and lifted the toilet’s lid and seat, have at it.

Sir Pentious

It's a good thing he did because Telly is immediately over it, vomiting. There goes his whole meal for the night, and all that wine and champagne. He is definitely going to be feeling this in the morning.

Alastor

Alastor leaned back against the sink, could only maintain the image of aloofness for a few seconds, and unsteadily knelt next to Telly to rub his back. There, there.

When the heaving finally started to let up, Alastor said, “Here you are, upchucking a whole bucket of booze into a hotel toilet—congratulations! You’ve now had the full Mardi Gras experience!” Studio laughter.

Sir Pentious

He chuckled weakly, lifting his head to grab some toilet paper to wipe his mouth. He flushed it and took a few breaths, closing his eyes.

"Think I would've preferred a slightly less full. It was wonderful until the vomiting." He sighed and leaned over to heave a few more times. Once his stomach was certain it was all out, he sat back against his coils.

"Still, despite _this_--" He gestured to the toilet. "I had the best night, Alastor, thank you. I look forward to next year even more-- throwing things at people is so simple and yet so much fun!"

He laughed and then groaned, his hand against his forehead. "Think I should lay down now..."

Alastor

Best night? Next year? Suddenly Alastor felt light again. Maybe the lightness was helium in his lungs. It would explain why his voice seemed to go up half an octave when he said, “Really?” He could still say that after horking a bowl of jambalaya into the toilet?

He could still say that after what Alastor did?

Would he still be saying that in the morning?

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” He half stood and leaned over to offer his arms to Telly. “Let’s find you a spot to rest.” Alastor sure wasn’t teleporting him back to the airship, that was for sure. “Water?”

Sir Pentious

"Water, yes, that would be good." He turned on the faucet, drinking straight from it-- and was very glad that he'd already done the pipe work for the hotel. It didn't taste terrible, at the very least. He splashed some on his face, forgetting his make up-- until a lash started drooping. He peeled them off and tossed them in the sink.

"Let's go, Alastor. I want someplace warm..."

Alastor

Someplace warm. Alastor’s inebriated brain slid right past the hundreds of empty rooms with warm, fluffy beds and straight down to the bar. “There’s a fireplace in the lobby?” He pulled down a towel and offered it to Telly.

Sir Pentious

Telly took it and wiped off his face, smudging the eye make up around more than cleaning it off.

"Mm, yes, that sounds nice," He said, dropping the towel into the sink with the lashes. He wrapped his arm around Alastor's shoulders and grinned.

"Onward!"

Alastor

“*Onward.*”

Out the door, down the hall, and down the stairs. He kept a firm grip on Telly this time—he wasn’t about to drop him again, he didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for that. But it made for slow going. He hoped none of the hotel staff/residents caught them. (He hoped his alternate didn’t catch them—what the hell would Alastor say?)

Sir Pentious

Luckily, the late hour meant that most were fast asleep, even as this drunk snake and deer combo stumbled through the halls. They only got down one floor when Telly caught sight of the most glorious siren of them all-- a radiator.

"_There_," He muttered, pointing at it. "I want to lay there."

Alastor

That seemed perfectly reasonable and not the least bit weird to Alastor. “Okay, come on...” Over to the radiator they went.

Sir Pentious

Telly purred once they got to it and released Alastor to curl around it. Before he closed his eyes, though, he sat back up and grabbed Alastor's arm.

"Wait! I almost forgot!" He pulled the fan from his belt and held it out to Alastor. "I want you to have this."

Alastor

Alastor stared at the fan, dumbfounded. “*Really?* But you made this.” Very sensible objection, drunk man.

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I did! I can make another if I want. I want you to have it. A memento of tonight." And then he sat up further, his hand going to Alastor's cheek and he kissed him, softly and with his mouth firmly shut-- he didn't want Alastor tasting the sour taste that still lingered in his mouth.

With that, he lay down again, and was out before he hit the floor.

Alastor

Any further objections Alastor might have voiced were smashed into a gory pulp as Telly kissed Alastor again.

And then Telly was unconscious and Alastor was alone, mind reeling.

For a long time he sat there in the dark, staring at Telly.

And then he teleported to the hotel kitchen and sat *there* in the dark, staring into space.

What the hell happened tonight.

#usedhearts #chat log

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