#I need her to chirp and beep at him when he won’t let her on his lap while he does his little computer stuff

[the-maladjustedjester]

Save me Richard and Sasha casual interactions 😭🙏 Sasha and Richard casual interactions save me

[chil-aglia]

BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO CARD

Gio cries into someones chest He just needs a good cry man And ONE of them HAS to have a Suicide Attempt

This will be marked off as ‘cry into chest’ as that is the main focus!

This dude fr need to cry it out (honestly all my OC’s do—) The way I locked in cause I have been wanting to write some angst about this prompt—

As for the suicide attempt slot, well, I kinda have an idea on who and what to write BUT I wanna see if anyone else suggests the prompt that’s pretty good for me to write instead

Hope you enjoy this! And sorry for any grammar errors made!

@badthingshappenbingo

Link to the fic on Ao3: Cry Baby - Chilaglia - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

��—————————————————————————————————

Cry Baby

(Some parts of the beginning are canon to the main story, but I won’t say what parts. You’ll just have to see for yourself when you read the chapters of Eyes on You)

Quick note: This is set after Giovanni is freed from the EPF who had been using him and torturing him. However, this does not mean it’s canon to the actual main storyline as that may change when I write it!

Bingo slot: Cry into chest

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles + my OC’s

Warnings; ANGST GALORE, PTSD, nightmares, depression, anxiety, implied suicidal thoughts, implied sexual assault (very brief), implied body experimentation, past needles, past abuse, etc

Summary: Giovanni has tried to keep it together. He has been doing so well since returning home. Returning to his family. It’s only a few nightmarish episodes he has. So why does he still cry?

——————————————————————————————————

“No! Leave me alone!”

Giovanni felt his body weight being pinned down, the growls of something much larger than him hanging over him. The feel of her breath hitting the back of his neck.

“Please…stop—!”

Tears welled in his eyes before he yelled in fear when he was dragged back into the darkness, the echoes of her laughter ringing in the air. Her tentacles gripped Giovanni’s legs tightly.

-----

“Hold still for me Giovanni. This will only pinch a little bit.” Dr. Brookes soothes, pressing one hand into Giovanni’s shoulder, keeping him down on the metallic operation table.

Needle inching closer to his face.

Giovanni whimpers, unable to speak, too scared to utter a word. But he hoped his body language was enough of an indication that he didn’t want a needle.

Why isn’t Mother listening to him?!

-----

“Think you're some big shot? Just because you're the favourite specimen?”

Dr. Avery grins, kicking Giovanni in the chest as the turtle rolled onto his side, wheezing and clutching at the spot he felt pain in.

He can’t attack. If he did then he’ll be all alone in this room. He doesn’t think he can handle that at this stage. Not to mention the shock collar that was wrapped around his nape.

Giovanni chirps in distress when Dr. Avery pinned him down, straddling his waist as he let out a sinister chuckle. His hands roaming down Giovanni’s sides.

“That’s right. Be a good boy for me. I never had my chance to feel you for myself yet.”

-----

“Quit your crying S129.”

John Bishop snaps, pressing down on the remote as Giovanni sharply gasps and screams at the jolt of electricity.

The collar beeping before it subsided. The mutant turtle twitching and whimpering as he tried to stand back up.

He only managed to get to his hands and knees, panting as he looks up at Agent Bishop who while remained stoic, had the faintest smirk stretched across his lips.

“Not bad…we’ll make a monster out of you yet.”

-----

Giovanni felt like he was drowning. Suffocating, but also limp and numb. Staring at the cement wall of his cell.

The stench of blood covering the room. It used to make him gag. But now, he kind of doesn’t mind it anymore. He lets it linger in the air around him. Not that he had a choice.

Giovanni ogles down at his blood stained palms. The cheering roar from the audience continued to echo in his mind.

He just wants to end it all.

He wants to rest.

Please, let him rest.

-----

Giovanni snaps his eyelids open, gasping in cold sweat as he sits up urgently in his bed. Feeling around his body as though he thought it wasn’t going to be there.

Everything felt to be in the right place. That eased his worries as he began calming down. But his heartbeat continued to drum against his chest.

His anxiousness was no doubt through the roof if Donnie attached a monitor to him right about now.

Right, Donnie. He was in the lair right? Along with the rest of his brothers.

Giovanni looked around the room, his room that his family so graciously made for him during his…MIA days.

It had only been 4 months since Giovanni was rescued and brought home. It took some time but 2 months into his recovery he was doing better.

Hardly any nightmares or painful memories surfaced. He didn’t jump at the slightest noise or go on high alert whenever someone entered the room. He was good.

He is doing well.

Or so, his family believed that to be the case. When in reality, Giovanni had just gotten better at hiding things. He was in a constant state of paranoia, fearful that if he let his guard down, he would end back into their clutches once more.

He never mentioned his condition to anyone. It would only worry them. Poor Mikey would hardly sleep if he knew this. Donnie would overwork himself on trying to come up with something to help Giovanni. Raph’s worry stink would overwhelm anyone in the room, himself included. And Leo would forget to take care of himself, focusing more on his older brother.

He didn’t want that to happen. Giovanni already put them through hell when he was kidnapped.

He sighs, looking over to the alarm clock on his bedside table. Just a little past 2AM in the morning. He could try and fall asleep, but nerves built up in his chest, he didn’t want to risk seeing those memories again.

He could try and walk around the lair to tire himself out. But his body remained frozen in bed. Paralysed in his brief state of panic from his nightmarish memories.

He softly groans, rubbing his tridactyl hands over his face.

“Giovanni? You're awake?”

The voice of his father had made Giovanni flinch in surprise, looking ahead to see the rat poking his head through the sliding door of the subway car.

“Dad…?”

Splinter hums in acknowledgment, walking inside and closing the door for privacy as he slowly makes his way over, “I heard some strange noises earlier, so I thought I should check in to see if you’re okay.” He explains why he was here and awake at such an hour in the morning.

Shit. Was Giovanni making noises in his sleep now?

”Sorry…for waking you up.”

“Nonsense my son. I was already up to get some tea.”

Splinter climbs up on the bed, making sure to have enough space between him and Giovanni who carefully watches his father.

“You look tired. Have you been getting enough sleep?” Splinter questions, concern written on his face as he slowly reached out and cupped Giovanni’s face to get a better view of his son's exhaustion expression.

Giovanni wanted to lie. Tell his father that he was fine. He had been fine for the past 4 months of being back home. Safe and sound.

So why…why was he choking up?

Splinter's optics widened when he saw tears streaming down Giovanni’s face. The way his eldest son hiccuped and trembled as he sniffled.

Giovanni pressed his face further into Splinter’s palm that held his cheek.

“P-papa…”

He sobs out, as he hunches forward to the rat who was quick to cradle him. Splinter shushes soothingly, pressing a tight hand against the back of Giovanni’s head to keep his face hidden into Splinter’s robe.

Splinter’s free hand occupied itself by rubbing calming circles on Giovanni’s arm. The mutant turtle had wrapped his larger arms around his fathers smaller body, sobbing and nuzzling his snout into the fur chest as much as he could without hurting his father.

“Oh my little Yellow….you’re okay now.”

“Papa….papa…I’m scared…I don’t wanna go ba-ack!”

Giovanni choked on his tears, repeating the words ‘papa’ quietly under his breath as he listened to Splinter’s heartbeat. He melted when his father cradled him, gently rocking him back and forth like he was a baby.

“You won’t go back. Not while I’m here. You’re safe with papa.”

Giovanni didn’t respond, at least not verbally. Instead, he sniffles and relishes himself into the comfort of his dad.

He wants to rest.

Let him rest.

But he can do that after he finishes wailing like a child into his dad’s body.

Splinter’s touch was much better than the scientists from EPF, and better than the Krang after all.

——————————————————————————————————

Bad things happen bingo (OPEN)

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“Crimson Huntress” pt.7

*Made up planet*

The planet Vrogas Vas was a dusty, metal-scarred lump of a rock. What passed for an atmosphere clung just enough to trap heat and rust-smelling humidity, and the spaceport they landed in reeked of fuel, sweat, and bad decisions.

Sha’rali adjusted her backup armor plate under her chest strap. It didn’t fit like her old set had—this one pinched at her shoulders and hung uneven over the dip of her hips. But it was better than that skimpy slave outfit, and at least K4 had patched it enough to stop complaining about “cosmetic compromise.” The scars still ran along her collarbone, faint burns from the collar. They ached in the humidity.

“Keep the ship hot,” she told R9, slapping the side of his dome. The astromech chirped once—irritated, but obedient.

4023 stayed behind as planned. She didn’t say why. Didn’t need to.

This job wasn’t about muscle or firepower. This one was about something else entirely.

The T-7 Ion Disruptors—outlawed by the Senate, black-market weapons that didn’t kill so much as erase a body down to static. Someone had paid for a crate of them, and Sha’rali didn’t ask who.

She only brought two things with her:

• A blaster.

• And Kael.

The kid walked with more confidence these days, less like a stowaway and more like someone who belonged in the chaos. K4 trailed behind them through the hangar yard, his golden frame glinting under hazy floodlights.

The contact was a Quarren with one bad eye and worse manners. The kind of smuggler who didn’t believe in small talk. He handed over the codes and payment chip after K4 sliced the inventory manifest to confirm the shipment was legit—well, as legit as a disrupter deal ever got.

“You’re quiet,” she said, checking the waypoint on her datapad. “You’re usually mouthing off by now.”

“I figured I’d try the whole mysterious orphan thing,” he replied, grinning. “Chicks dig that, right?”

K4 let out a whir of disapproval from behind them.

Sha’rali rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not half as interesting as you think you are.”

“Wanna bet?”

They wound through the lower levels of the port toward Bay 47, where a shipment of outlawed T-7 ion disrupter rifles waited for pickup. No questions asked, as long as the credits cleared and no one got scanned.

Kael’s mouth never stayed shut for long.

“So what’s the big deal with these ion rifles?” he asked, peering at a half-covered crate as they approached.

“They don’t just kill,” she said, scanning the manifest K4 had spliced. “They can take down a ship and wipe out anything living.”

The kid nodded slowly. “So why are we helping people get more of them?”

She glanced at him, measuring.

“We don’t ask questions.”

“That’s convenient.”

She snorted. “I don’t remember asking you to be my moral compass, Kael.”

They walked in silence a bit longer. K4 finished slicing the crate’s lock, beeped twice, and pushed the contents toward her for visual inspection. Rifles gleamed dull in the low light. Brand new. Black market fresh.

Kael leaned on a crate, arms crossed.

“You ever gonna ask me why I left?” he asked.

She paused. Eyed him carefully.

“Didn’t think you’d tell me.”

“I won’t. Not really.”

She leaned her weight on one hip, arms folding across her chestplate. “That right?”

He shrugged. “But you keep asking. Poking around.”

She didn’t deny it. “What can I say? You’re weirdly competent for a kid. You flinch when people use their comms, but you slice security like a pro. You knew what those rifles were. You know how to vanish. That’s not normal.”

Kael’s eyes flickered—something wary behind the sass.

Finally, he said quietly, “My master’s name was Pong Krell.”

Sha’rali’s head tilted slightly, the name striking something faint but sharp in her memory. “That supposed to mean something to me?”

“No,” Kael said. “But it should.”

He turned away before she could press further.

They returned to the ship in silence, the shipment secured and logged into K4’s encrypted manifest. Sha’rali told R9 to prep for takeoff. Kael vanished to the lounge couch. She stood in the cockpit, chewing on the name.

Pong Krell.

It scratched at something in her mind, but she didn’t know why.

She went looking for someone who might.

4023 sat in the hold beneath the ship’s main deck, visor tilted down, arms draped across his knees. He didn’t flinch when she stepped in.

“Kid dropped a name today,” she said, voice low.

No reaction.

“Pong Krell. That ring any bells?”

Still nothing.

But she caught it. The way his fingers curled tighter against his gloves. The way his breath paused just long enough to mean something.

She stepped closer.

“You gonna tell me why that name hit a nerve?”

He didn’t look up. Didn’t have to.

“Yes,” he said finally. “But not today.”

Sha’rali waited. But when he said nothing else, she turned on her heel and walked out.

She didn’t press him.

Not yet.

But something told her she’d find the answers eventually. Maybe not from him.

Maybe from the kid.

⸻

The planet looked dead from orbit—scarred rock and ash dunes, with volcanic storms in the upper atmosphere. Sha’rali had been here once before and left with a shattered shoulder and a thirst for vengeance. This time, she came armed, flanked by a teen with secrets, a runaway clone and two droids with personality disorders.

They touched down on an old landing platform scarred by carbon scoring and rust. The ship hissed, settling. From the cockpit, Sha’rali stared at the datapad, reading over the drop point again, but her mind was elsewhere.

“Two birds,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?” Kael said, strapping on the too-big blaster pistol he insisted on keeping low on his hip, like some gunslinger out of a spacer holo.

Sha’rali didn’t look at him. “You’ll see.”

She stalked to the weapons hold, grabbed one of the disrupter rifles and slung it across her back with the kind of familiarity that made Kael blink. K4 raised an eyebrow subroutine but said nothing as she punched in the ramp controls.

“You’re bringing that?” Kael asked as the airlock hissed open.

“I thought you wanted a demonstration.”

His brow arched. “You gonna vaporize the buyers?”

“Tempting,” she muttered.

The drop zone wasn’t just a drop zone.

As the haze of the plains parted, and the buyer’s outpost came into view—little more than a scrap compound bolted to the canyon edge—Sha’rali clocked them immediately.

Three of them. Hanging out near a makeshift speeder garage.

Low-life bounty hunters.

Zabrak. Weequay. A near-human with half a face.

“Friends of yours?” Kael asked dryly.

“They botched a capture run last cycle. Got me spaced out over Rori with a ruptured oxygen tank. Then they laughed.”

Kael gave her a look, then looked at the rifle on her back.

“I’m starting to see where this is going.”

Sha’rali paused just outside the compound, looking him over.

“You wanna see what this kind of weapon does to flesh?”

Kael, eyes cool and unreadable, simply said, “Yeah. Kinda do.”

The first one didn’t even know what hit him.

A beam of sizzling blue-white energy screamed across the gap and reduced the Weequay to atoms in a blink—bones, skin, clothes, gone. A smear of ash where he stood.

The second screamed before Sha’rali even adjusted her aim.

She wasn’t smiling.

She was focused.

Efficient. Cold.

Kael watched her through the haze. The blast from the rifle lit her armor like old fire, throwing shadows across the ash-gray terrain. He didn’t flinch. Just observed.

One more blast. The Zabrak vaporized mid-run.

The third tried to shoot. Sha’rali didn’t give him the chance. She lowered the rifle and snapped out a hidden vibroblade from her thigh plate. It found the soft spot between his ribs before he could scream.

She yanked it free, expression unreadable.

Then turned to Kael.

“That clear enough for you?”

The boy was quiet. Then—

“Y’know, I thought it’d be worse.”

She arched a brow. “You’re disturbed.”

“You like that about me.”

“Not really.”

They turned as a third voice chimed in behind them.

R9.

Waddling along, holding a disrupter rifle precariously with his utility claw, letting out a low, eager whistle.

“Oh, hell no,” Sha’rali said, marching toward him. “You are not keeping that.”

The astromech chirped a profanity-laced protest.

Kael laughed. “He’s got taste.”

K4’s voice cut in from the comm. “I believe our actual client is waiting for the rifles, assuming you’re done committing side-murder.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sha’rali said. “Tell 4023 the cargo’s coming in. The entertainment was just a bonus.”

⸻

They loaded the disrupters into the client’s hold. Sha’rali handed off the weapon she’d used with a little reluctance, fingers brushing the power cell like an addict bidding farewell. R9 beeped mournfully, but she shoved him back toward the ramp with her boot.

Kael glanced at her as they re-entered the ship, dust trailing in their wake.

“You really hate people, don’t you?”

She glanced sideways. “People earn it.”

His expression didn’t change. But she noticed the way he filed her answer away. Like he was measuring her. Waiting to see how close he could get before she noticed the weight of his questions.

And she was watching him now too.

That calm when she vaporized someone.

The way he didn’t blink.

The way he didn’t feel.

⸻

Back on the ship, 4023 met them halfway down the hold, helmet on, arms crossed.

“Got the credits. And a bonus for being early.”

Kael grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Sha’rali handed off her blaster and looked the clone over. “Next time, I take you.” He stated

“Maybe stop trying to parent the kid.”

4023 gave Kael a look. Then at R9, who was still sulking about not getting to keep the rifle.

“You two behave?”

Kael smirked.

Sha’rali, eyes hard, said nothing.

But in her mind, a puzzle was snapping into place.

The calm kid with perfect posture and a forceful intuition.

The lightsabers.

And now, the lack of fear watching people die.

Something about Kael was off.

And she was going to find out what.

⸻

The ship was quiet.

Not the eerie, pre-combat kind of quiet—this was the heavy silence that followed a hard job, when adrenaline faded and the aftermath sank in.

Sha’rali was in the refresher, washing off ash and blood. R9 had retreated to his corner with a disrupter rifle power cell he wasn’t supposed to have. K4 was arguing with the ship’s navigation AI about jump coordinates. Peace, in its roughest form.

4023 leaned against the open maintenance alcove near the cargo bay. Kael sat on the floor, back to the wall, holding a ration bar he wasn’t eating.

The kid had been quiet since they came back aboard.

More than usual.

4023 didn’t speak right away. He just watched him.

Kael finally broke the silence, voice low. “You know him.”

The clone didn’t answer.

“Pong Krell.”

Kael’s tone wasn’t accusatory. Just… careful.

“You didn’t flinch when I said the name. You know him.”

4023 exhaled slowly through his nose. The helmet stayed on.

Kael looked up, gaze intense, but not angry.

“Who was he to you?”

Still no answer.

4023 crossed his arms, voice quiet.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

A pause. Then the clone crouched beside him. Slowly. As if what he had to say next came from a place stitched together with scar tissue.

“I’ve seen what he does to people,” 4023 said. “What he turns them into. What he wants them to become.”

Kael’s jaw tightened.

“I saw men walk into battle with pride and come back with nothing but rage,” the clone continued, words slow and measured. “I saw good soldiers die for orders that weren’t right. Not by a long shot.”

“You fought under him.”

It wasn’t a question. Not anymore.

4023 didn’t confirm. Didn’t need to.

Kael turned the ration bar over in his hand. “He said I was weak. That the Force needed to be seized—not understood. That compassion was a disease.”

He glanced up again, voice sharp with emotion he usually buried.

“He taught me to fight first. Feel later. Or never.”

4023 looked down at him. Slowly, quietly, he spoke again.

“You’re not him.”

Kael looked surprised.

“You’re not him,” 4023 repeated. “No matter what he tried to put in you. No matter what he taught you. That darkness you’re scared of? That thing whispering that it might win? That’s his shadow. Not yours.”

Kael swallowed hard. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“No,” the clone said. “But I’ve seen what you haven’t done. You held back when you could’ve killed. You stepped in when you could’ve run. You saved Sha’rali when she would’ve bled out under someone else’s boots.”

4023 leaned forward just a little.

“You’re not him. You’re going to be better.”

The kid blinked, something flickering across his face—hope? Fear? Gratitude?

He looked away quickly. Tried to brush it off.

“Yeah, well… I am taller than him. So I’ve got that going.”

4023 let out a quiet breath that might’ve been a chuckle. “Nowhere near.”

“Still counts.”

The clone stood, one hand resting on the wall for balance. “Get some rest.”

“Yeah,” Kael said softly, watching him go. “You too.”

But long after 4023 had gone, Kael stayed sitting on the floor. Eyes down. Silent.

And alone with the weight of a name he didn’t want to carry anymore.

⸻

Tatooine always had a way of baking the worst parts of a person to the surface. The air here was dry, gritty, and hot enough to peel paint off a starship. Mos Ila wasn’t as big as Mos Espa or Mos Eisley, but it was just lawless enough to be useful and just obscure enough for someone not to ask too many questions.

Sha’rali liked it that way.

Their ship sat parked between two rust-stained buildings just outside the local hangar yard. The crew had been here for four days—long enough to patch up damage, take a few small bounties, and keep the ship stocked. They kept their heads down. The droids ran errands. Sha’rali ran leads. 4023 fixed what he could, which wasn’t much, and Kael had taken to charming or irritating every local merchant within a five-block radius.

Today, the kid was back onboard, feet up on the common area couch, mouth full of roasted critter meat on a stick. Grease stained his shirt.

4023 leaned against the frame of the galley door, arms folded.

“I’m serious.”

“Nope,” Kael said, chewing with determination.

“You need structure. Stability. A foundation.”

“Already got one. You’ve seen these abs?” Kael slapped his stomach with mock bravado. “Rock solid.”

4023 gave him a flat look from behind his helmet. “I mean a real foundation. You’re smart. Too smart. You should be in school.”

Kael choked on a laugh and nearly the meat stick.

“I’m not going to school. What would I even do in a school? Pretend to be a regular kid? What, hide my sabers in my backpack and call it a day?”

“You’d learn how to blend in. You’d get normalcy,” 4023 insisted. “Friends. Lessons. A life.”

Kael narrowed his eyes. “I had lessons. I had friends. You want me to go sit in a classroom with people who’ve never seen half the things I’ve seen? I’ll break someone in a week.”

“Then maybe you’ll learn restraint.”

“Maybe you’ll learn I hate lectures.”

4023 exhaled hard and pinched the bridge of his nose under the helmet.

Just then, the ramp clanked open, and in walked Sha’rali, coated in dust, dragging a sand-wolf pelt behind her with K4 and R9 toddling behind.

“Hey, don’t leave the pelt on the—” Kael started.

She dropped it on the floor in front of the galley door with a thump.

“—never mind,” Kael muttered.

“Got a clean shot between the eyes,” Sha’rali said, tossing a blaster onto the counter. “K4 wanted to keep the skull, R9 wanted to eat the heart. Settled on both.”

4023 cleared his throat. “I brought up the idea of school.”

Sha’rali wiped dust off her lekku and reached for a water canister. “Not my call.”

Kael pointed a triumphant finger. “Ha! See? She agrees.”

“I didn’t say I agree,” she said without looking at him. “I said it’s not my decision. I’m going hunting again tomorrow.”

Kael turned to her on the couch. “C’mon, you of all people get it, right? You didn’t have an education and you turned out fine.”

That made her stop mid-gulp.

“I did have an education,” she said coolly, setting down the canister. “I studied technology and mechanical engineering on Alderaan.”

The room went still.

Kael blinked. 4023 straightened.

“…Wait. You?” Kael asked, mouth half open. “Like, in an academy?”

Sha’rali nodded once. “Scholarship. Top marks in systems design. Could’ve had a job anywhere in the Core.”

4023 stared. “What happened?”

She gave them both a pointed, unreadable look as she peeled her dusty gloves off finger by finger.

“Took a job from the wrong people.”

A beat.

Kael raised an eyebrow. “So… exactly what we do for a living now?”

Sha’rali smirked, that sharp grin returning as she flicked his forehead with two fingers. “Difference is I wasn’t so loud about it back then.”

Kael grinned. “I’ve got charm. You just have trauma.”

“I’ve got both. And weapons.”

4023 cleared his throat again. “We’re getting off-topic.”

“Welcome to life with us,” Sha’rali said dryly. “You’ll learn to enjoy the derailments.”

She turned to go, stopping briefly at the doorway.

“For what it’s worth…” she said without looking back, “he might not be wrong, kid. You’ve got brains. Whether or not you use them in a classroom’s your call. But make sure you do use them.”

Kael looked down at his half-eaten snack, suddenly a lot more thoughtful.

Sha’rali walked off, K4 following her with a bloodied bone in his hand like a trophy. R9 beeped contentedly and rolled after her, leaving Kael and 4023 alone again.

“I’m still not going to school,” Kael muttered.

4023 sat across from him.

“I know.”

“But thanks… for trying.”

“Don’t mention it.”

A quiet passed between them again.

But this time, it wasn’t heavy. Just settled.

⸻

Kael stood outside the schoolhouse with a look on his face like someone had just handed him a bucket of bantha dung and told him it was his future.

“I hate everything,” he announced to no one in particular.

The school in question wasn’t so much a school as it was a squat beige building with cracks down one side and a flickering power grid that buzzed every few seconds. A few kids loitered out front. One was eating something that looked like it might still be moving.

“I mean, are you seeing this?” Kael pointed with both hands. “There’s a literal skeleton next to the entrance. That’s not a metaphor. There’s an actual skeleton. That is a dead guy, probably a former student!”

Sha’rali walked behind him, her long stride confident as always, K4 hauling a beat-up backpack full of spare ration bars.

“Skeleton’s wearing a class ring,” she said dryly. “That’s school spirit.”

“You’re both monsters,” Kael muttered. “You hate me.”

“I don’t even like you,” Sha’rali shot back. “Blame your mother.”

She gestured a thumb toward 4023, who was walking stiffly, arms crossed, helmet on, completely unreadable—but somehow radiating that heavy parenting disappointment energy.

“I’m not his—” 4023 began.

Sha’rali cut in with a grin. “You wanted to enroll him. You dragged him here. You’re responsible for his brain development. He’s your problem now, sweetheart.”

4023 sighed through his teeth.

Kael spun around on his heel. “You said I could choose!”

“I said you could choose what to do with your brain,” Sha’rali said. “You chose to sass me and shove R9 into a barrel of oil last night. So now? You’re doing your civic duty.”

“That wasn’t even my fault, he started it!”

R9 gave an indignant beep from behind them, his dome spinning angrily.

“You called him a glorified toaster,” 4023 said flatly.

“Well, he is!”

R9 bumped him hard in the back of the knee with a hydraulic clang. Kael nearly went down.

K4 cleared his throat—an unnecessary feature he insisted on activating for dramatic pauses—and handed the backpack over to Kael.

“It’s just for today,” K4 said with exaggerated politeness. “A simple day of learning. Your instructors will undoubtedly be underqualified and the children feral. But you will survive.”

Kael stared at the bag like it might explode. “You’re abandoning me.”

Sha’rali leaned down, smirking. “Don’t worry, we’re coming back. Maybe.”

Kael opened his mouth to fire back—something snarky and probably brilliant—but she flicked one of his curls and turned before he could get it out.

4023 stayed behind a beat longer. “Stay close to the droids. Don’t start any fights.”

Kael huffed. “I never start them.”

“You finish them, I know.” 4023 paused. Then, softer, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

“…Fine.”

“And Kael?”

“What now?”

4023 bent slightly, just enough to bring his helmet level with the kid’s eyes. “Try not to get expelled. Sha’rali placed bets.”

Kael blinked. “Are you betting against me?”

“…No comment.”

Sha’rali called from the speeder, already climbing into the driver’s seat. “Come on, soldier mom. We’ve got a bounty and only so many hours before this kid gets himself banned from the education system entirely.”

K4 patted Kael on the shoulder with an unnecessarily condescending “there-there” motion. R9 beeped something that might have been rude in Binary. Kael stood there, arms hanging loose at his sides, watching his “crew” walk away.

He sighed, adjusted the pack on his shoulder, and muttered under his breath, “Jedi Temple didn’t even make me go to math class.”

Then he stomped into the school, with two heavily armed droids trailing behind him like the galaxy’s weirdest honor guard.

⸻

The ship touched down with a gentle thud in the outskirts of a grungy Ord Mantell trade hub—low visibility, dense fog, and enough warehouse sprawl to hide an army. The moment the landing ramp hissed open, the smell of rust, engine oil, and ozone drifted in like a grim welcome banner.

Sha’rali took a deep breath of the air, stretched, and cracked her neck like someone about to start a fistfight with fate.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Smells like home, if home were a garbage fire set in a scrapyard.”

4023 stepped down behind her, helmeted, silent, rifle slung over his shoulder. He moved with the kind of focused purpose only soldiers possessed—back straight, shoulders squared, senses tuned.

Sha’rali, meanwhile, walked ahead with an irreverent swagger, spinning a small throwing blade between her fingers like she was about to flip someone for drinks at a sabacc table.

“Alright, ma,” she said with a wink, glancing back at him. “Let’s go pick up the groceries.”

4023 grunted. “It’s a weapons crate.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

He didn’t take the bait.

But she kept going.

“I’m just saying—while we’re out role playing galactic nuclear family, I might just swing by the store for some blue milk.” She side-eyed him. “You know. Not come back.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious. And if you’re the overbearing mom, that makes me the laid-back absentee dad who shows up once every two cycles with a hoverboard and emotional trauma.”

“I don’t hover.”

“Yet.”

They ducked into a rusted corridor that led into the warehouse complex. The bounty was a straightforward one—smuggler contact, crate exchange, clean job. No known ties to Separatists, no hidden trackers, no Syndicate entanglements… allegedly.

Sha’rali never believed “clean.”

Their contact was late.

So she leaned against a support beam, arms folded, while 4023 watched the doors with the patience of a bomb technician.

“You really think the kid’s gonna stay in that school?” she asked eventually.

“No.”

“So why’d we do it?”

“Because he should try to live like a normal kid. At least once.”

She studied him for a moment. “That’s rich coming from a man who hides behind a helmet twenty-four-seven.”

His head tilted fractionally. “This helmet keeps me alive. I earned it.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” she said quietly. “Just means you’re still fighting a war, is all.”

Before he could answer, the side doors creaked open.

Three figures entered—smugglers, all human, two women and a tall man with an auto-pistol strapped across his chest. One of the women carried a data pad and the manifest.

“No sudden moves,” the tall one said, eyeing Sha’rali like she was going to bite him.

She grinned. “Oh, sweetheart. You couldn’t handle me.”

4023 stepped forward. “We’re here for the Mantell crate. T-571 series. You’ve been paid half. You get the rest once we verify contents.”

The smuggler leader waved the datapad. “You’ll find we’re professionals.”

Sha’rali snorted. “So’s a mynock. Doesn’t mean I want one in my cargo bay.”

They were just about to open the crate when a warning chirp echoed in 4023’s earpiece—R9, relaying a ping from Tatooine.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Proximity alert on the ship. Motion near Kael’s school.”

Sha’rali narrowed her eyes. “How close?”

“Close enough to raise a flag.”

Before either of them could act, one of the smugglers got twitchy and reached under her coat. 4023 grabbed Sha’rali’s arm and shoved her down just as a blaster bolt lit the air where her head had been.

“See?” she shouted as she rolled. “I told you this wasn’t clean!”

4023 moved like lightning—shoulder-checking the nearest smuggler into a pile of crates and slamming his rifle into another’s gut. Sha’rali flanked wide, leaping over a stack of drums and driving her elbow into the last smuggler’s throat before he could get a second shot off.

The firefight lasted thirty seconds. Maybe less.

When it ended, the floor was scattered with groaning bodies and one slightly singed weapons crate.

Sha’rali wiped her blade clean on a smuggler’s coat. “So. Blue milk and murder. Domestic bliss.”

4023 scanned the room. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”

As they ran back to the ship, Sha’rali looked over at him and chuckled.

“You know, I always thought you clones were stiff and joyless, but you make a really compelling case for the ‘mom friend’ archetype.”

4023 said nothing, but the slight tip of his helmet gave him away.

“And to think,” she mused as they boarded the ship and prepped for departure, “if this bounty gig doesn’t pan out, you can always run for Galactic PTA President.”

⸻

Kael Zeth sat slouched at the back of the classroom, arms crossed, chin resting in one gloved hand. The single fan above them creaked uselessly as the double suns beat down through cracked windows. A dull, insectile hum filled the air. In front of him, a Mon Calamari instructor was droning on about ancient Galactic trade routes.

Kael wasn’t listening. At all.

His boots were kicked up on the seat in front of him, and every now and then, he lobbed a balled-up scrap of flimsi at a rusted air vent. The local kids around him gave him a wide berth. He was too new. Too quiet. And maybe just a little too intense when he stared down anyone who asked about his past.

Outside the school’s perimeter gate, K4 was pacing in a slow patrol pattern, arms politely folded behind his back like a bodyguard at a noble’s estate. R9 sat parked on a low duracrete ledge, grinding through some poor Tatooinian pigeon droid that had tried to steal his antenna. The astromech was hissing in Binary—loud, aggressive, and possibly profane.

They weren’t subtle. That was the point.

Most people stayed away from the droids.

But not everyone.

In the alley behind the building, a squad of five crept forward—three Death Watch troopers, one spotter in desert robes, and a slicing tech with a datapad. They weren’t in full armor—just enough gear to keep a low profile in the town’s sun-scorched streets. But their helmets were unmistakable to anyone who’d crossed them before.

They’d been on the planet three days. Hunting. Waiting. Watching.

And now they saw what they came for.

“Target confirmed,” the lead whispered into his comm. “Astromech matches Sha’rali Jurok’s known unit. Tall protocol droid as well. Same model seen with her back on Coruscant and Ord Mantell.”

“What about the boy?” came the static reply.

“Unknown. Possibly her asset or captive.”

“Take them all.”

The bell rang, and Kael bolted up before anyone else. He’d nearly made it to the doors when they burst open—metal crashed inward, smoke grenades rolled across the floor, and the shrill whine of a stun emitter cracked through the school’s stillness.

Screams.

Chaos.

And Kael’s gut plummeting as he recognized the shape of a Death Watch vambrace.

Outside, K4’s head whipped toward the school just as R9 let out a shriek.

The protocol droid took one step forward before three blue stun rings struck him—he short-circuited and dropped with a heavy, undignified clang. R9 screeched, spinning, deploying a saw blade and blowtorch.

The Mandalorians moved fast.

One fired a net at the astromech, wrapping his dome like a caught animal. Another slammed a shock prod into R9’s side before dragging him into the alley. Sparks sputtered across the sand as the little droid thrashed and cursed in Binary.

Kael ran out of the building—he wasn’t thinking, only moving—right into a stun ring. He hit the ground hard, eyes wide, air knocked from his lungs.

But he didn’t cry out. Didn’t fight back in any way that would give himself away.

Because he could feel it.

His lightsabers were gone—left behind per 4023’s orders.

He wasn’t a Jedi. Not right now.

He was just a kid in the wrong place.

And he’d learned to be small.

⸻

Back at the ship, a quiet red light blinked on the communications panel.

A message from R9’s emergency subroutine: a transmission ping laced with static and distress markers.

But the ship was empty.

Sha’rali and 4023 were still in transit back from Ord Mantell.

And by the time they returned…

The boy, and both droids, would be gone.

Taken.

They landed back on Tatooine with sand still caught in the landing gear, dust kicking up as the ramp extended with a groan. The moment they stepped inside the ship, something was off.

“K4?” Sha’rali called out, letting the syllables linger with suspicion.

No response.

R9 wasn’t rolling up to hurl digital obscenities. No Kael slouched on the couch with a smartmouth greeting. Just silence.

4023 moved first, sweeping through the narrow corridor with his blaster raised. Every room was empty.

“They’re gone,” he said coldly.

Sha’rali didn’t immediately panic. She turned to the console, cycling through the logs and cams. Nothing recent. Nothing useful.

She crossed her arms and turned to 4023. “Okay. Where’s your parental tracking chip? Or did you forget to install that too?”

“I left him with two heavily armed droids on a desert planet with a third-rate school and zero contact with any known threats. It should’ve been safe.”

“Except it’s Tatooine,” Sha’rali snapped. “You might as well leave a vibroknife in a daycare and hope the kids play nice.”

4023 turned to her with a slow exhale. “They were watching. Death Watch. Maybe from the moment we got here.”

Sha’rali paced. “Alright, helmet-head, what’s the plan now? We gonna march in, guns blazing, save the kid, and pretend like this doesn’t scream trap? Or—”

She stopped, watching him as he leaned against the wall. She could feel his tension. Usually so calm, so calculating—now his jaw was clenched behind the visor. She could almost hear the gears grinding in his mind.

She tried to lighten it. “You’re wound tighter than R9’s restraining bolt. What’s going on? This about the kid, or are you gonna finally admit you’re still carrying that clone baggage you’ve been hiding since I pulled you out of that stinking cell?”

That did it.

He turned sharply, voice edged in something raw.

“You want to know what’s in the baggage, Sha’rali? Fine. Let’s unpack it.”

She blinked, caught off guard. He stepped closer, tearing off the helmet—his face lined with emotion and an edge of weariness she hadn’t seen before.

“My name wasn’t always 4023. I had a name before that. Havoc. ARC Trooper in the 212th.”

Sha’rali stilled. The way he said it, like it tasted wrong in his mouth.

“I served under General Kenobi. Fought in the thickest battles of the war. We were good at what we did. Too good. Then we got sent to Umbara.”

Her brows furrowed at the name. She’d heard it. Some campaign that had gone sideways, buried deep in military records.

4023 continued, voice harder now. “I got reassigned to assist the 501st. Skywalker was supposed to be the General in charge. We got Pong Krell instead. Jedi general, decorated, respected. And a monster. He sent us into ambush after ambush. No tactics, no logic—just meat grinder warfare. Brothers died for nothing.”

He looked down, swallowed hard.

“Then it got worse. He gave orders that made us turn on each other. Said there were disguised enemies—told us to fire without question. I… I executed a squad. My squad. One of my Sargents I gunned down like his life didn’t mean anything. It was moments later I found out they were clones. Just like me.”

Sha’rali said nothing. The room felt smaller somehow.

“He’d gone rogue. Turned to the dark side. Used us like puppets in some sick experiment. When we finally figured it out, it was too late. Too many dead. Too much blood. So I ran. I didn’t want to be part of that machine anymore.”

Her voice, when she finally spoke, was soft. “So… Havoc.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right,” she said, nodding. “So. That’s why you didn’t want to talk about Krell when Kael dropped the name.”

He looked at her, something flickering in his eyes. “I don’t know what Krell did to him. But I know what he did to us. And I’ll be damned if I let him ruin that kid too.”

Sha’rali took a breath. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Just help me find them.”

She stepped forward, placing a hand on his chestplate. “We will. But if you ever hold back from me like that again, I will go buy that blue milk and never come back.”

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

“And for what it’s worth,” she added, “Havoc’s a pretty karking cool name.”

⸻

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[notsomellowarchiveofchaos]

Sign From God Chapter Two

Prev>>

MINORS DNI

Death spirit Oc X Wraith Ghost

I do accept CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, please be kind but I do enc criticism and advice.

Under NO circumstances do i want my Work used with Ai of Any kind.

A/N: Definitely wasn't listening to the 2WEI version of Toxic while posting this

⊰🕱⊱ Trigger Warning: Talk of made-up Illnesses/conditions

TF 141

↞-----------↠

“What’s wrong with her? Why’s she so thin all of a sudden?”

“That’s classified as of right now. Just get her to the truck, carefully. Her bones are extremely fragile right now,”

—

Lilith

↞-----------↠

Flashback/Memory

—

As the golden sun dips beyond the horizon, the firelight bathes the faces of a little girl no more than six, and her father in a warm glow. The little girl perched on the man’s lap as he prodded the flames.

The girl in the middle of a story about a classmate. “And- And then she-,” the man gently cut her off.

“Do you want to roast marshmallows, Lovie?” he asked

“No,” she said simply. “They’re weird and slimy when they’re roasted,”

The man smiled. “Fair enough, but I guess that means I get all the s’mores,”

“No Way!” the girl squealed. Reaching over to the man for the chocolate and graham crackers. Holding the snacks hostage.

“Daddy, will we see any animals tonight?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice low and calm. “If we’re quiet, maybe, but remember, we’re in their home, so we need to be respectful.”

The little girl nodded solemnly. “I won’t scream if I see one,” she promised.

“That’s good Lilith,” he chuckled

Flashback end

—

Lilith slowly opens her eyes, whining at the sharp light that cuts into her eyes, slowly adjusting to the bright lights of the room she’s in. Rubbing her eyes against the pillow, she struggles to sit up in her bed, feeling disoriented. She takes a deep breath to clear her head.

She looks around, scanning her surroundings. Only to realize she’s in the Med-bay, as the steady beeping of machinery fills her ears. She opens her mouth to let out a “Fuckkk” but it comes out as the gargled whine of a supernatural being. Instead attempting to sit up despite the ache throbbing throughout her body.

She tries to stretch her arms and legs, only managing to lift them slightly off the ground. She attempts to shake off the grogginess, flinching as she tugs on the IV in her arm. But then, thankfully, the nurse walks in. She hums as she removes the IV, “I got you, love.” pressing a pair of pills to Lilith’s lips. Which she eagerly takes, followed closely by a sip of cold water that burns her raw throat. “I’m Gwendolyn Lloyd. But call me Gwen Sweetheart,” she hums, her soft Welsh accent soothing Lilith’s mind.

“Take it easy love. Your muscle and skin are still growing back hun,” she says, forcing Lilith to lean back. Who lets out another garbled whine.

“You shifted too fast, love,” Gwen explains. Only to be cut off when Ghost bursts into the Room.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He shouts. Lilith raises an eyebrow.

“Because of you, Wood got away!” he snaps.

Lilith glares at that, letting out a murky growl.

“Lieutenant Riley, I recommend refraining from yelling at my patient, especially when she cannot defend herself,” Gwen says crossing her arms.

“I’ll yell at her all I fuckin’ want. She put the operation in jeopardy,” Ghost growls. His eyes meet Lilith’s “You. fucked. up,” he hisses.

A soft rattling growl fills the air from Lilith’s throat, her pupils expanding, the inky blackness beginning to bleed through the rest of her eyes. Neither Ghost nor Lilith breaks eye contact until Gwen gently shakes Lilith. Snapping her out of the haze.

“Lieutenant Riley, your presence is putting both you and my patient in danger. You need to leave now,” Gwen snaps. Ghost Narrows his eyes with a huff. But leaves the room.

Lilith turns to Gwen, letting out a muddled chirp. “No worries love, there’s no way I’m letting him undo my hard work, you got that?” she smiles. And Lilith nods.

“Now, your captain called and told me to let him know when you wake up, because your Taskforce is going out for drinks, and they want you to come, I told him as long as you don’t drink any alcohol you can go,” Gwen adds, Her voice taking on an oddly motherly tone. And Lilith nods again.

“Alright then, let me get your crutches, and mix up your shake,” Gwen smiles, walking off.

With the crutches and a large metal water bottle in hand, Gwen returns. She helps Lilith up, handing her the crutches, and putting the water bottle into the cloth case hooked on the crutches. She handed Lilith the crutches and placed the water bottle into the cloth case hooked on the crutches. “You need to drink all fifty ounces,” she said, “otherwise your muscle mass won’t fully recover, and they won’t clear you for your next mission. Understand?” Gwen asks. And Lilith lets out a garbled “’anks,”

“No problem love, now let’s get you to your captain,”

—

“There’s the lass!” Soap grins as Lilith comes into view, his tail wagging slightly.

“Glad to see you up, Hatchett,” Price nods.

“Wha’s tha’?” Lilith croaks, nodding toward the box on Prices’ desk.

“Captain here got some pastries, and he ain’t sharin’” Gaz smirks, and Price rolls his eyes.

Lilith glances at the label, a flowery flaming whisk, in a bowl of batter. "Whiskin' Paradise," she reads. "’re they good?" she asks. "Yeah, you want one?" Price responds, earning himself a look of indignation from Soap.

Lilith nods softly, takes the pastry Price hands to her, and takes a small bite.

“Tha’s really fuckin’ good,” she groans, taking a second, bigger bite of the pastry.

Soap uses this moment to snatch two pastries of his own, handing one to Gaz, while Ghost steals one with his shadowy tendrils. Price, however, grumbles unhappily, taking one of the last few remaining pastries.

“Holy thit!” Soap groans after taking a bite. “Thith ith beau’ul,”

“English,” Ghost huffs.

“I might just have to find this bakery for myself,” Gaz mumbles around a mouthful of the pastry, unaware of the slight narrowing of Price’s eyes and the tensing of his wings.

“Let’s get goin’ to the bar,” Price rolls his eyes, closing the pastry box and putting it in a locked drawer in his desk. And the group makes their way towards the car.

—

Lilith follows close behind the group as they arrive at the bar, wincing at the loud buzz of conversation within, which, of course, Soap notices, and falls into step with her.

“Here, Ghost doesnae like loud sounds if he can help i’, so I keep a few o’ these around,” he smiles, holding out a pair of earplugs. And Lilith gives him a grateful look, taking the earplugs and putting them on.

She follows the group to a table toward the corner of the bar, somewhat secluded, despite the clinking of glasses and raucous laughter echoing through the dimly lit bar from other patrons.

The waitress comes over and everyone orders their drinks. Lilith takes out her phone, opening her messaging app. tuning out Gaz’s recount of the operation as both Soap and Ghost Laugh, though Ghosts is more of a chuckle.

Lilith looks up from her phone, feeling someone’s gaze on her, meeting Ghost’s eyes She meets his intense stare, her eyes still tinged with the inky blackness that had nearly consumed her back in the medbay. Ghosts gaze is unwavering, filled with a mix of curiosity and something darker.

Lilith breaks the eye contact, feeling a slight unease creep up her spine. She focuses back on her phone, pretending to be engrossed in her messages.

Lilith tries to engage in the conversation as the night progresses, but her mind keeps drifting back to the unsettling encounter with Ghost. And by the time they return to base, it's all she can think about.

—

Captain Price

↞-----------↠

“And you're sure about this?” He sighs, staring at the paperwork and files scattered around his desk with annoyance.

“Even if I wasn't, you want to risk it?” Laswell asks, raising an eyebrow. Price lets out a long groan.

“Yeah yeah,” he mutters, staring at the stacks of communications Laswell had uncovered

between Barton Wood. and someone on their base…

--

A/N: Gaz going after the bakery definitely isn't a reference to my upcoming fix Shot In The Dark 👀👀👀👀

Next>>>

[new-berry]

I’ve started and stopped and started so many Jude time shenanigans fics. Let’s pretend that Denise’s maiden name is Browne.

Perfectly safe for work not true made up etc.

Denise shakes off the groggy afternoon nap. It’s impossible to sleep properly in a hospital. There was something else though, a nagging sense of wrong, not soft soled shoes on the floor, or constant beeping.

There’s a man standing next to her baby and she takes a sharp inhale of breath, ready to yell until he turns around. He’s an older man, light skinned and tall, with a touch of grey at the temples, and a slightly receding hairline. He has grooves in his forehead and he turns fully to look at her instead of down at baby Jude with his hands behind his back.

He smiles at her warmly. “Don’t wake the baby mama,” he mock whispers to her. Then; “you don’t remember me do you?”

Denise shakes her head. She struggles up and he walks to the bed and, to her surprise, helps her to sit up, his hands compassionate and efficient and gets her a glass of water. Denise watches him turn to put the pitcher down. She feels overwrought and greasy and stares at him suspiciously.

“I’m your uncle Henry, Teresa and George’s” he offers. “I haven’t seen you since, well, you weren’t much older than that fine young man there.”

Denise relaxes back. His face has the odd familiarity of family that you only see in pictures. There was one of her and, well Uncle Henry she supposed. Sitting next to each other on the couch. She doesn’t really remember meeting him but she used to see the picture every time she went to her aunts. He looks younger than she thinks he should. But it’s hard to say, everyone seems like an old person when you’re a child. His cologne when it drifts past her is heavy and rich and his skin is soft and clearly moisturised.

His shirt is expensive and patterned and when he takes the glass back off her there is a heavy expensive gold watch on his wrist.

“I’m only In Birmingham for a short while. I was hoping to meet you before your son made his appearance. It’s hard to work out the exact timing you know? He’s a strapping lad.” Henry turns to the crib again, he half reaches out to touch Jude then rocks back. “We have a gift for you,” he nods to an envelope Denise hadn’t noticed when she woke up.

Jude chirps and Denise moves to get up and Uncle Henry waves her back. “You should be resting,” he scolds her gently, “you’ve been through the wars.”

His accent holds Birmingham but softened with something she can’t place. “Look at this handsome young man,” Uncle Henry coos, scooping Baby Jude up with the practised air of someone often around children. He gently supports Jude’s head and neck when he brings him over.

He patiently helps her adjust him in her arms. Denise looks awkwardly at the front of her hospital gown, nursing is, progressing, but not without a lot of arranging and pillows and thankfully Jude quiets down now she’s holding him.

“I won’t keep you, you both need your rest.” Henry pauses. “I’m sure your Aunty Teresa, my, er ,mother, has told you that I don’t have children.” Denise stoking down Jude’s impossibly soft cheek looks up. There is a longing in Unclee Henry’s eyes.

“She didn’t, still doesn’t, entirely, well” he pauses, “approve of my lifestyle,” Denise does remember that. The aunties and her mum and whispered family gossip about him never returning home after moving to America somewhere. New York maybe, San Francisco. His accent doesn’t sound American though. Still Brummie but with something European Denise can’t place.

Denise looks at Henry. He should be in his sixties, but this well groomed man in front of her is hard to age.

Denise thinks the slightly flashy shirt is very American. And the gold watch. Henry sits down on the chair next to the bed. “I’d like the chance to spend some time with the boys,” he pauses, “well the boy, but you never know what the future holds of course.”

Denise nods in slight confusion. Uncle Henry leans over and strokes Jude’s cheek himself. “I have some regrets not having my own family, and I don’t wish to impose but I would like the chance to be a,” he pauses again, “maybe the fun uncle in their, well in his I mean, in Jude’s life.”

“Anyway,” uncle Henry turns from Jude to her. “There is no pressure and with work I can never be exactly sure when I will be allowed to come back to England, but I’ve left my contact details in the envelope as well. Even if it takes me a day or so, I will always reply.”

Jude stretches, his little mouth moving like he’s drinking in his sleep and Henry stands. “I won’t keep you, I have a, well, a flight I suppose you would say, soon.” He leans down and presses a soft paternal kiss to Denise’s forehead. “Well done Mama to you and Mark. He must be very proud of you as Teresa and George, that is my mum and dad, are of course.”

He turns from the door. “ Teresa, my mother Teresa I mean, gave me a kindness to let me know the baby was born. It might also be kind to not, well mention me too much to her.” Uncle Henry’s smiles at her is slightly strained, looking less sure of himself when she first woke up, “ahhh my companion is calling me. Congratulations again Denise and walks out the door.

The weird beeping noises of the hospital resumes, a backdrop that Denise doesn’t pay much attention to, focused on getting Jude latched on and nursing. He eats with a fixed intensity she has come to expect in these first few days she opens the envelopes. It’s a stack of brand new fifty pound notes and a business card on thick white stock with a crown in the corner. Henry Browne, sports and entertainment agency. There is a phone number and an email address.

There is a trophy embossed on the card and Denise runs her thumb over it.

Teresa is much older than her mother, a generation away, certainly the generation who wouldn’t be thrilled with an unmarried son without children in the entertainment industry.

Denise puts both to the side and makes a mental note to speak to Mark about Jude’s unexpected great uncle showing up. It will have to wait she thinks, already drifting off with the warm weight of her baby son on her shoulder.

[yappacadaver]

wip wednesday friday

The road to Oberlin, Ohio was long and soaked with fresh rain from the Great Lakes. A light drizzle started up as soon as they’d made it back to Yumi’s place. And, after a quick stop for her to grab only the essentials, that’s when the rain came pouring in earnest. Fat drops hammered down upon them as they hurried back to the car. 

Despite Raymond’s trepidation, his new passenger seemed in control of herself, for the moment. He had many questions and uncertainties that needed to be addressed but couldn’t quite find the words for them in the troubled waters of his mind, and so they spent the first few minutes of their journey in silence. The engine’s deep hum vibrated through them as rainfall tapped insistent rhythms across the painted carapace. Raymond could feel his every muscle stiff as death; his breaths came shallow and subdued. There was no soothing the tension within him, but the thought of the machete he had secured under his seat that morning did ease his mind as he carefully observed the girl next to him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Yumi rummaged through her dirty backpack, fishing out a small purple device. 

“Is that a pager?” he asked, gaze flickering to her hands then back to the road.

“Pfft, no. It’s a Gameboy. You play games on it.”

His lips tightened.

“Right, okay. I just thought maybe you’d want to get your affairs in order. Maybe use this time to contact your family, or draft a will.”

When he turned to her, the blank look on Yumi’s face met him like a brick wall. The static noise of falling rain swelled in a crescendo so Raymond switched on the windshield wipers. It took several squeaky wipes across the flooded window before she spoke up again.

“I don’t have a family, or anyone I really want to tell about all this. What would I even say? ‘Hey I’m going on a roadtrip with some old guy who kidnapped me, probably gonna die, see you never?’” 

He could only sigh in response. Of course the entities chose targets among those with deep emotional baggage, so lacking a family wasn’t entirely surprising, but her flippant attitude never failed to make him worry. The Gameboy beeped and chirped in her wounded hands as Yumi returned her attention to the screen. She kept her face buried there even as she continued speaking. 

“Anyways, we should stop for lunch or something, right?”

“Stop…? We haven’t even left Milford yet. We can grab something on the road.”

“Ugh…” She threw her head back, looking up at him with an expression both expectant and judgmental. “Rayymonnnd… I’m dying because of your stupid demons, won’t you at least take me out somewhere?”

A grimace twisted his features as he was unable to hide his guilt. He wanted to lash out, to tell her they were already on borrowed time and to take the danger they were in seriously for once, but he knew better than to let his words be clouded with anger. While his eyes rolled back, Raymond remembered to breathe and take stock of the many ways in which things could be so, so much worse.

[beetleskeleton]

 I gots some more headcanons and imagines for you all to feast on while I get a few things going.

Leshy prepping his nest before he goes to sleep, then he goes, “Hm, something is missing, oh yes!” Then he rushes off and comes back holding his partner like a kitten and softly drops them into the nest. 

P03 bonks people/things he loves with its screen. It’s not something that he’s learned to do in a relationship, no no. It’s a natural behavior that all bots do! Meaning that the Inspector, Melter, and Dredger all do this as well. Maybe even the Uberbots too. (This is based off of ShioCreator’s fic, “Almost Murder Was Not The Intention” on Ao3. I’m just expanding the idea more.) 

All of the others that live in the land of beasts (Angler, Prospector, Trapper, and Trader) their eyes also turn red whenever they’re angry. 

I like to imagine that the Challengers are the definition of ‘Fuck around and find out’. 

If P03 can purr, that definitely means that the other Uberbots can too;

-Archivist’s purr is soft and soothing, gently rumbling against the metallic frame of her body. 

-The Photographer’s purr is very low and deep, rumbling loudly as it gently bonks whoever or whatever it’s purring at with its ‘face’.    

-The Unfinished Boss’s purr has a rather odd pitch to it. Their purr occasionally will have a sort of beep or chirp at random.

-G0lly’s purr is high pitched and squeaky. Unlike the Unfinished Boss, G0lly will let out beeps and chirps whenever she gets even more happy and excited rather than uncontrollably. 

-Extra: P03’s purr is not too low and not too high, a solid middle ground pitch. Will quietly let out a beep or two on occasion. 

   Which Scrybe enjoys stargazing the most? (In order of greatest to least) 

Leshy

-Leshy enjoys stargazing whenever he can. He finds it a very relaxing activity, one of his favorites in fact. 

2. P03

-P03 would never admit it, but he actually is really curious about astrology, it's just not one of its main focuses. 

3. Grimora

-Doesn’t see stars as often as she would like to, but when she does, she enjoys gazing up at them with her ghouls. 

4. Magnificus

-Doesn’t stargaze as a hobby, however he does use them as reference for his art. 

The Reader in the Chaoscule has a scar on their right eye from Act 1. 

Everytime Leshy looks at it, he feels guilty. (I will provide a visual example sooner or later.) 

All of the Scrybes have a soft spot for kids. All of them (some more than others).

For example;

 Leshy would prevent the child from using any items to hurt themselves. 

P03 would probably go easy on them, especially if they’re struggling and might even teach them a thing or two along the way. 

Grimora would also go easy on them and if they’re struggling will give them a few tips to help them. 

Magnificus would probably take baby steps with them, teaching them about which cards to use for each turn, to the point where he’s hardly even playing anymore, he’s just teaching them about the Magick cards.  

A little sneak peek into the ending per say of the Second Stoat Card Au, P03’s partner definitely thinks about teasing P03 about him being a stoat, but then decides not to as that was traumatizing for it and they don’t want to overstep that boundary. Character development 101.  

When I said in my ‘How would the Scrybes protect their S/O’ post that nobody hurts Grimora’s partner, I did not mean she will ensue violence. Though that doesn’t mean she won’t give a sharp and stern talk to whoever hurt you. I could imagine that she has a sharp tongue and only uses this ability when she needs to.    

[jjmjjktth]

Chapter 3: Firsts Lead to Seconds

Lady Papilion sent a butterfly to the Eiffel Tower at the arranged time. She could sense the apprihensiveness and destruction of the Black Cat hero. Guiding her butterly to land on Chat’s baton, she felt the weak mindlink for between the two of them. “Hello, Chat Noir, I am Lady Papillion, your partner.” Chat started at the sudden voice in his head.

“Lady Papilion? What miraculous do you hold, how did you get it, and why are you able to be in my head?” Chat questioned.

“I am the weilder of the Butterfly Miraculous of Metamorphosis and Encouragement; the miraculous was put in my bag; and, the miraculous makes a mindlink for me to speak to you directly and give you power if we both agree.” She responded,”What miraculous do you hold and how did you receive it? I assume it has something to do with cats.” She decided to keep the fact that she knew so much about the miraculous a secret for now, she didnt trust him…. Yet.

“I am the wielder of the Black Cat Miraculous of Bad Luck and Destruction; the miraculous appeared on my coffeetable; and I can destroy anything with a touch.” Chat stated with the same amount of formality.

“We must discuss a plan for dealing with Paeon; maybe patrols of something like that. We will also need to speek with athoraties abou setting up an alert or something.”

“I agree, they need a way to contact us as well. For all we know it won’t always be obvious when there’s a…. what did you call it…. an amok?” at her nod, he continued. “Maybe we could talk to our kwamiis about communication devices and give the local government our numbers?”

“I could talk to Nooroo about that. What’s your kwamii’s name?”

“Plagg”

“Give me a few minutes I’ll detransform since I’m not in a public place.” Lady Papillion transformed without recalling her butterfly. She immediately gave Nooroo a flower petal.

“Thank You Miss Marinette.” Nooroo tiredly said.

“Nooroo is it possible for you to notify me of messages while detransformed?”

“Yes, I’ll know if a message is left while you’re not LP!” Nooroo chirped.

“Thank you Nooroo, let’s rest a bit. I told Chat we’ll be a few minutes.”

After a minute or two Marinette transformed to reconnect with her butterfly in Chat’s weapon.

“It is possible for us to communicate with the miraculous, our kwamii are able to notify us of any messages and relay responses even when we aren’t transformed.”

“Well, its settled then. Will you usually be contacting me from off-site?” The cat questioned.

“Yes, my miraculous is made to be used from outside the battles; therefore, I am not as wellprotected as you while transformed. I do have a place I can use as a base, though.”

“Ok. Can you recall your power so we can test our communicators effectively?” As soon as she heard his request, She called out her butterfly and released it from her service.

A few seconds later, her staff buzzed and beeped. Opening the top, she requested the message be read to her.

“One message from Chat Noir…. ‘How can I be of surrrvice, Lady Papillon.’”

“Respond to Chat Noir with, ‘Since this seems to be working, could you bring the contact information to the law enforcement?’”

“Responce sent…. New message from Chat Noir.”

“Read it please”

“‘On my way’” Smiling, she detransformed and retrieved a flower petal for Nooroo.

“Thank you!”

“No problem, lets make our way back to school though.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful compared to the morning; and people were flocking to Ivan to hear about how he beceme a superhero.

“I don’t have any power, guys, there was this lady in my head who gave me power and guided me through the battle!” He explained for the hundredth time. He sounded exasperated.

“This so-called ‘lady’ must be rediculous if she chose you. I would have ended it the moment it began. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.” Chloé, it’s always Chloé. I could hear Ivan shaking in his seat.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Ivan roared, “MY LADY IS A WISE AND RESPONSABLE WOMAN AND YOU CALL HER ‘RIDICULOUS!’”

“Ivan.” I state, drawing on my calming aura. “Can you calm down? Paeon is still out there and, from what I observed, he gives strong emotions physical form.” I was too late.

Rose shreeked, “The feather! It’s back!” The blood drains from my face and I get up to leave the room. As I enter the hallway, I hear a faint “Yes, Paeon” followed by a stampede.

I ended up using a fire escape to get out of the building since no one semed to think of that. From there it was a simple affair to arrive at my greenhouse as it was somewhat out of the danger zone.

“Nooroo, did the amok take the same form?”

“Yes, it has also taken Chloé Borgeois and Mylené Harple captive.”

“Ok, Nooroo, wings rise!” The familiar warmth washed over her, leaving Lady Papillion in its wake. Feeling the rush of emotions, LP sought out Ivan once again. Bonding with a photo he had on him, she spoke, “Ivan, we meet again.”

“I am so sorry! I was just so angry at Chloé, she insulted you!”

“While I am honored you decided to defend me, Paris has changed. As much as I hate to admit it, it is no longer safe to feel negative emotions. That’s what makes Paeon so cruel.”

“I understand, My Lady.”

“Ivan, are you willing to become Ironheart once again to defeat the amok?”

“Yes, My Lady.” She smiled at his agreement and allowed her power to enter Ivan fully. Transforming him into Ironheart in a wake of lavender bubbles, she began to guide him towards the battle.

Chat Noir was already on the scene, arguing with the police.

“This isn’t a failure on our part! This is an entirely separate situation!”

“Then why is the same monster as earlier climbing the Eiffel Tower with the mayor’s daughter!”

“I don’t have all the information yet!”

“Ironheart, can you please open your palm?” I asked. When Ivan opened his palm, an image was projected into the air. Lady Papillion was siting on her throne of metal vines, her sceptre resting on her lap. One of her hands remained on the handle of the sceptre while the other was draped casually over the vines of the armrest. Around her thousands of butterflies, many different kinds, flew around her.  Giving her the image of a Lady in her keep.

“What seems to be the issue, officer….”

“Raincomprix, Leutenant Raincomprix.” the leutenant seemed to be a bit intimidated by the aura of power she gave off. At a nod of her head, he continued, “As a police department, we were concerned about the resurfacing of this morning’s villain despite you two supposedly defeating him.”

“I assure you, the resurfacing of the amok has nothing to do with Chat Noir and I. The man behind the attack, Paeon, posesses an ability to physically manifest any strong emotions into beings for him to control. The victim of this morning mearly got upset enough for Paeon to exploit them again. This will most likely become a common occurrence untill we track down Paeon and strip him of his power.” The leutenant’s face fell at her words.

“We have already left our contact information with the police department,” Chat chimed in.

“We must hurry, the amok has already caused enough damage as is.”

There is a sudden rustling of feathers as the amok put it’s chest towards the sky releasing millions of feathers from inside. The feathers, moving against the wind, rose into the air taking ther form of a man in a mask.

“I am Paeon, the man who controls this sentinel.” Paeon gestures toward the amok. “I have come to rescue you from the villains Chat Noir and the Butterfly. I must retrieve their miraculous to strip them of their power. Look around you, look at all the destruction they caused.”

“Ironheart, put your palms into the air please.” When Ironheart follower her instruction, a much larger projection than earlier filled the space above him.

“Paeon, how lovely to meet you.” Lady Papillion greeted with a sickly sweet tone. “I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of your acquaintance.” She relaxed onto her throne as Paeon scowled. “I am Lady Papillion, weilder of the Butterly Miraculous of Metamorphisis and Encouragement. Chat Noir and I have not caused the damage to uor beloved city, but Paeon tore through the city using a creature formed with the hurt and rage of an innocent teen. Doesn’t that sound more like the actions of a villain?” With that Ironheart lowers his hands and lept up the tower catching the feathers in his shield. A blinding light shone from the shield and the feathers were gone.

Sensing it was time to act, Chat Noir bounded after Ironheart. The battle was short after that. A well times cataclysm and two graceful catches ended the majority of the afternoons excitement.

As soon as the heroes reached the ground, they were surrounded by the press with their questions and flashing lights. It was definitely a new experience for the three.

“Lady Papillion! Ironheart, do you plan on working together for the time being?”

“Chat Noir! What do you think of Paeon painting a picture of you as a villain?”

“Chat Noir! How long do you plan on being a superhero, and how will it effect your daily life?”

“Lady Papillion! Why dont you show your face in person?” There were so many questions and so little space that Ironheart had to send out a little shockwave to get them to back off so the small image of Lady Papillion could speak.

“Ironheart and I will each take one question.” She stated with no room for argument. “I will not appear in person as, like Paeon, my miraculous is meant for distance and leaves me more vulnerable than the average miraculous weilder.”

“I dont know if I will be selected by my Lady again, but if I am, I will gladly accept it.” Ironheart stated and then left.

“Well done, Ironheart. Remember, your protectiveness is both your strength and your weakness. Be careful.” And with that she withdrew her butterfly and released it from her service. Before she could detransform, her septre buzzed.

“One new message from Chat Noir.”

“Read it.”

“‘Purrhaps you could send one of your butterflies to Arc de Triomphe, I would like to speak with mew, winky face.’” She sighed and sent out another butterfly with a kiss.

The butterfly made its journey to the Arc de Triomphe rather quickly and promptly joined with Chat’s golden bell. “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes, I would like to see this base of yours so we can work together purrroperly.” Chat demanded.

“No, It would give away my identity or at least narrow it down for you. That is against what my kwamii told me.”

“Would knowing our identities not improve our teamwork, My Lady?”

“It also may hinder it Chat; so, I must say no.” she could feel his disappointment and anger rising.

“How can I trust you if I don’t know who you are?!”

“You will have to. I am goind to send a champion to heal the city. Good bye, Chat.” and she recalled the butterfly; but not before she felt his anger spike.

Feeling around, Lady Papillion searched for someone with the desire to fix everything. She sent her butterfly into a foreman’s clipboard.

“Hello, sir. I am Lady Papillion, what is your name?”

“Lady Papillion! Um…. I’m Rich Bordétte. It’s an honor to meet you My Lady.”

“Thank you Rich. I would like to offer you the ability to fix all the damage from today’s battles, even death.”

“Ok, call me….  The Worker!”

“Rich Bordétte, do you accept my offer to become The Worker”

“Yes, Lady Papillion.”  The lavender bubbles covered Rich; in the same way as Ivan, the bubbles gave him a sunflower-colored hardhat, a safety vest, and a toolbelt with only a drill on it.

The Worker rose into the air and raised his dril and without ceremony pressed the button. From the tip of the drill, various butterflies and moths streamed out to the city covering everything that was damaged and anyone who was hurt or worse. As soon as the last moth landed, The Worker cried out and all the bugs rose at once flying to the sky. Below, the city looked just as it did the day before. The rubble was gone, the people were healed and all evidence of Paeon was gone.

Masterlist - First - Previous - Next

Taglist: @novemberandmay @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @slytherinhquinn @blackroserelina  @buginetye @basenikon @moon5608 

Hello, Jjmjjktth here. welcome to my extremely irregular upload schedule filed by a mix of procrastination and The FeelsTM.

 WARNING!!! It may be one day to two or three months when i upload next!

please be patient :) 

Love y'all!

[dameronology]

1. From the angst prompt list with Poe??

ok this was a super popular one for poe, like 3 or 4 people requested this oof time to hurt !! even tho this one is a little more light-hearted than all the others i have planned muahaha 

poe dameron + “i needed you and you weren’t there.”

It had taken Poe Dameron no less than five minutes to work-out that you were being off with him. But, with that said, it would have been fairly fucking obvious to practically anyone that you were less than pleased with the pilot. Maybe had been the way you were staring daggers at him across the canteen in the morning, or the way you’d completely blanked him when he’d tried to greet you. It had been then that he realised you’d never sent him a good morning text - as was customary when you slept apart - or even a good night one. On the whole, he was a pretty smart guy, but 99% of the time when it came to you? He was clueless. You could have held up a sign that said ‘POE, I’M MAD!’ and he still wouldn’t have got it. 

So, he was proud of himself for picking it up so quickly - then ensued the challenge of working out what exactly was wrong. Once he’d got his breakfast and some caff down him, he resorted to his office with his beloved droid to investigate.

“Was it our anniversary?” He peered down at BB-8, who was parked under the desk. The droid beeped back a quick no, not till next month.

“Damn,” Poe muttered. “How about a birthday?”

That was also a negative. 

“Maybe just try asking them?” BB-8 chirped. 

Poe sighed to himself, before grabbing his datapad and standing up. According to your calendar, you didn’t have any important meetings til that afternoon - that meant that hopefully, just hopefully, you might be willing to give him the time of day. 

Your own office was just down the corridor, a few doors down from his. Everyone on the base and their mother knew that you had a strict no knocking before 9AM rule, but it had never applied to Poe - at least not when you were on good terms. He was willing to risk his head to talk to you, especially when you were already so close to biting it off anyways. 

“Babe?” He gently called. “Wanna talk?”

You glanced up from your datapad, thinning your eyes at him. “How nice of you to make an appearance.”

Poe sighed, stepping inside and carefully shutting the door behind him. He tossed his own tablet onto the desk, taking a seat opposite you. In his experience, you had two kinds of mad: loud mad and quiet mad. Loud mad was always a little less dangerous than quiet mad. That was usually when you were seething. 

“I know I’ve done something,” he began. “I just need a little help figuring out what.”

“Are you serious?” you scoffed. “That sounds like a you problem-”

“- c’mon,” he whined. “Don’t be like that.”

Leaning back in your chair, you folded your arms across your chest, glare boring further into the depths of his very soul. He tried to offer you a smile, but it was immediately wiped away by the deepening of your frown. Before now, Poe hadn’t realised how tired you looked, which was weird, because you always made a point to get an early-

- fuck. 

Now, he remembered. Now, he got it.

He was supposed to - nay, he’d promised to - help you fix the fleet of X-Wings that had gone down last week. Because not only was he the dumb-ass whose recklessness had let them get damaged, he was also the dumb-ass who had managed to get forgiveness from you and Leia by promising to fix them. And god forbid she ever find out, because if the General had it out for him, your anger compared to hers was practically nothing. If your fury was like a lion, Leia Organa’s was a fucking tyrannosaurus rex. 

“The X-Wings,” Poe let out a loan groan. “I was supposed to help fix them, wasn’t I?”

“There we go,” you gave him a phoney grin. “Now you’ve got it!”

“Did you fix them all yourself?”

“Every. Single. One.” 

“Babe, I am so sorry-”

“- I needed you and you weren’t there!” You cut him off. “Do you know anything about internal combustion engines? Because I certainly don’t! I’m pretty sure all those jets are worst off than before I got my hands on them-”

“- probably. You aren’t the best engineer,” Poe absent-mindedly muttered. Because that was going to help, right? “Wait! I mean...no, there’s nothing I can say. You definitely made them worst.”

“No, keep talking,” you huffed, “you’re doing a great job! See how deep of a hole you can dig yourself.”

He sighed, reaching out to hold your hands across the table. “I’ll help you tonight, I promise. And I’ll teach you all the workings of the engines too, so you can be less...awful.”

“Counter proposal,” you shot back. “You clear your free time this afternoon and help me then, and I won’t snitch to Leia that you forgot, or that you were the reason they even needed repairing in the first place.”

“Deal,” he grinned. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you gave his hands a light-squeeze. “You’re a dumbass, but I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

[bot-imagines]

I wonder how the tfp bots would react to a human's dark or self-deprecation humor? Like if they hear them say something, "No, you know what? It's fine. I'll just take all these bad feelings and put them inside my body. And then one day, I'LL DIE."

(Honestly, with the way this year is going, that’s a whole mood, my dude)

Optimus

Optimus isn’t a fan of the human’s sense of humor, mostly because he doesn’t like hearing them talk about themself so poorly. He’ll pull them aside on more than one occasion to ask them if they need to talk and if something is going on in their life.

When he overhears them talking about “putting all their bad feelings inside of their body and dying”, he walks over and asks what they’re talking about. He’ll ask them point blank if they truly feel that way.

“You can always talk to me if you need me.”

Bumblebee

Bee actually gets upset if the human self-depricates too much. He buzzes and chirps and shakes his head as the human goes on about how much they suck. He hates to think that they really feel this way about themself and doesn’t find it funny at all.

When the human talks about bottling up their bad feelings “and waiting for death,” he beeps out a warning tone to them, letting them know that he won’t stand for any sort of bad talk like that.

“Human, no!”

“Human, yes!”

Wheeljack

Unlike the others, Wheeljack finds the human’s strange form of humor fucking hilarious. Any time he hears the human use their brand of humor to lighten the mood, he’ll join with his own self-depricating humor. More often than not, it spirals into a fight to see who can out-shock who.

“No, you know what? It’s fine. I’ll just take all of these bad feelings and put them inside of my body. And then one day, I’LL DIE.” Oh frag yes. He immediately rebukes with “Feelings? Who is she? Never heard of her.”

Somebody stop him. Please.

[fnf-brain-rot]

We're In This Together [Pico's School AU] Chapter 1 - New Kid

Pico let out a loud, droned out groan at the kitchen table. He hated school so bad, just thinking about having to go made him wanna bash his skull into a brick wall. "Boy if you don't shut all that noise up and eat your cereal." Darnell's mother, Clarissa, snapped from the sink. Darnell choked a little bit on his cinnamon toast crunch, and Pico pouted, lowering his head over his half eaten bowl of Cap'n crunch.

"What, did you remember we had a test today or something?" Darnell asked him. PIco's eyes damn there bulged from his sockets, and he dropped his spoon dramatically. "We have a test today??" He breathed, and Darnell snorted again. "No, I was asking you if you knew." Pico huffed in response, slouching in his chair. The only thing that could make this Tuesday worse would be a test. At least he didn't have that. This asshole scared him.

Well not scared, startled.

two very different things.

Darnell got up from his seat, grabbing his bowl and Pico's to give to give his mother, mouthing "You owe me." To the ginger. Pico let out Thankful hum, then got up as well. He'd return the favor by bringing his his backpack to the front for him when he went back to grab his own. It was still morning. They weren't even in school yet. This day was gonna take forever..

________________________________________________________________________________

Darnell and Pico were on time today, finally. Nene stood by the staircase, chatting with some red haired girl they've never seen. Now this girl, Pico damn there fell head over heels instantly. She was wearing a cute little jumper, a bright red shirt under the suspenders. She had on little red boots, and her hair was up in a ponytail. Her skin was a nice, soft peach color, and she even had a natural blush??

Darnell and Pico looked at each other, the other seeming to have noticed her natural beauty as well. "I call dibs."

"What? You don't call dibs on a person asshole!" Darnell pushed him, but that only propelled the boy forward, enough to make a complete fucking fool of himself. He tripped over his own foot as he took a step forward, falling face first into the pavement right in front of the girl's feet. "Pico! What the fuck!" Nene barked, but stopped when the girl in front of them gasped softly. "Oh no, are you okay?" She lifted him by his arm, resisting the urge to giggle at his dumbstruck face.

Pico stared at her for a moment, then his eyes lidded, and he lowered his voice. "Hey.." He tried to sound smooth, but a deep voice just wasn't going for him right now. She giggled, and helped him up. "Oh gosh, your nose is bleeding. Do you wanna go to the nurse?" She pulled a tissue from her pocket and held it to his nose. His face was red as a bitch, and he knew it. "No! I can handle it! I've been through worse!" He sniggered, but took the tissue.

"Sorry for this dumbass causing trouble." Darnell walked up to the three, pushing past the ginger, who only cried out "Hey!" He took his victory though. She thought he was funny. "No, it's fine. It's kinda cute." She admitted sheepishly. "I guess you would have to meet these two idiots at some point." Nene grumbled. What, did she not want them to meet this mystery girl? Selfish! "This is Darnell. He burns stuff." She pointed to the brown skinned male, who waved awkwardly. "And this is Pico. He breaks stuff." She pointed at he who stared the girl down so hard, his bleeding nose seemed to mean something else at some point.

"Like his nose?"

"Exactly! Like his nose!" Nene giggled, and Pico glared at her. "I don't break my nose that often!" He growled at her, puffing his cheeks. "You don't seem to be proving that right now." Pico almost tackled her, but paused when the other girl started talking again. "You guys can call me Gigi. I'm in Mr. Lawrence's class." She then introduced herself. God her voice was like lying on a bed of flowers..

"Well it's nice to meet you Gigi! Hope we can hang out and Nene doesn't hog you all to herself." Darnell spoke the last few words through grit teeth, and Nene huffed irritably. She probably would have hogged her all to herself if they were late again.

"Speaking of class, we should get going before we're late. Again." Darnell grabbed Nene by the arm, who cried out in protest, then grabbed Pico's arm. Gigi waved as the two were dragged off, kicking and cursing the shit out of their buddy. Pico wouldn't be done with her..

________________________________________________________________________________

They did have a test today.

Pico groaned loudly and slammed his head on his desk at the announcement. Darnell poked his head over, laughing a little at how dramatic he was. "At least it's a test." He tried to reassure him. "Man you know I'm shit at Math." Pico grumbled back, his angry little pout returning for the umpteenth time today.

"Now, now, settle down." Mrs. Fee began to speak, thankfully quieting the class. They were giving Pico a fucking headache. "We have a new student joining our homeroom today."

"Oooooh, hope it's another girl." Darnell nudged Pico's leg with his own. Yeah right, Pico didn't need another girl. That other one has already chosen him.

Is what he would have said if he wasn't looking the new kid dead in the face.

It wasn't a girl, no. It was a boy. His hair was a bright blue, almost nauseating to look at, sure, but his eyes took away from that. He couldn't tell if they had color, from where he was sitting. they were dark, but the confident little smirk on his face spoke for them. His skin was pale, but not as much as Pico's. A comfortable milky white.

He was short as fuck, it almost made him laugh. He pretty much looked like he was nine or something. He could already tell it suits him though.. He had a nice style to him, baggy jeans and a white tee shirt with a red circle with a line through it, messily painted on. Or maybe it was supposed to look like that.

"Beep!" The entire class seemed taken aback when he spoke. "Um.. Can you use.. words?" Mrs. Fee visibly began to sweat nervously. He must have been speaking like this for a while. "Boop bep!" He chirped to her in response, his hands comfortably tucked away in his pockets.

He was.. kinda cute..

"Well, class.. this is uh.. our new student.. I'm sure you'll learn his name.. eventually." Mrs. Fee laughed nervously, rubbing her hands together as the strange boy eagerly made his way to the nearest open seat, hopping up just a small bit to sit down on it. He kicked his legs as he began to pull his supplies out of his backpack. How unlucky for him to be shipped in on a test day. Bah, lucky bastard probably won't have to take it.

"Looks like we got a new freak to add to the codex, huh?" Darnell leaned over and joked lightly. Pico scoffed. "You don't know that, he could be cool.." he mumbled the last part under his breath. "You don't even know him and you're defending him? You must have caught feelings." Nene giggled childishly. "Yo, really? Man, you're lookin' desperate. First the girl from earlier, now him?" Darnell teased him as well, and Pico's face flushed red. "No you ass fuckers!" He seethed quietly.

"Ewwwwwwwww~" His friends cooed to each other, sniggering like little kids, which technically they are, but that's not the point! The point is he's about to bite both of hem!

"Shut the fuck up.." Pico put his head on his desk, covering it with his arms. Later he found out he was right. That little blue haired midget didn't have to take the test since he just got there. Meanwhile he's left to suffer.

Boring test stuff, blah blah, Pico got a C, Darnell and Nene got an easy A, and they tease him, yeah yeah. Once they walk outside those doors he's gonna punch the shit outta both of them.

And he did.

"Ow!! Why didn't you just do it in the classroom!?" Darnell rubbed his arm in front of his locker, and Nene rubbed hers. "Because I didn't feel like getting yelled at again, fuck off." Pico retorted bitterly. He hadn't been able to stop looking at the guy. He watched him walk down the hall, holding his backpack to his chest. He was so cute and small, he wanted to hold him..

Wait.. Where'd he go?

His eyes swept across the crowd for a sign of the little guy. He disappeared. Gone with the wind. What a ninja. "I'll be back." The ginger lightly patted Darnell's arm, and he made a face. "From where??" He called out, but Pico didn't answer. He kept walking, moving down the hall quickly, pushing past other students to get where he needed to.

________________________________________________________________________________

There he was, sitting at a picnic table outside. He pulled out a phone to do.. whatever the fuck he was doing. Pico would admit, he's hella interested in this beep boopin' fella.

"Yo, uh.." Pico started, having slowly approached the table. The small boy jumped with a gasp, then turned to look at Pico, his cheeks flushing slightly red in embarrassment. "Woah, didn't mean to scare ya." Pico laughed a little, and the boy pouted. "Beep boop.." He mumbled in response. Pico tilted his head. "That a new language I never heard of?" He asked him. He shook his head.

"Beep bop."

"So you just.. say it just to say it..?"

"Bep!"

"That sounded like "yep" so I'll take that answer."

The strange boy giggled a little. It seemed he was right anyway. "I'm uh.. Pico, by the way. You got a name?"

"Bee!"

"Is.. That another noise or is your name Bee?"

The smaller puffed one of his cheeks in frustration. Well.. Pico could be patient, it's okay. It was still super weird though. "Bee." He said again. "Bee, gotcha. Cute." Pico snurked a bit to himself, and the other's cheeks flushed once more. "Well, we still have class.. uh.. I have History next, you?" Bee nodded. Wow, what a coincidence. "Well come on you dip, we'll be late." He urged him. Bee puffed his cheek again, but gathered his stuff, quickly typing on his little phone before putting it away.

Pico had started walking to the doors again, and turned around to see Bee scurrying after him. He must have been real clumsy or something, more so than Pico. Great, he had another person to laugh at other than himself when they fell.

Pico learned a lot a lot about Bee in History. Funnily enough, they sat by each other It didn't seem like he had any friends, or knew anyone at all. Good thing he met him first. Any other asshole to put their hands on him would have tainted him immediately. Of course Pico would be the best first-friend this kid would have.

Bee wasn't very talkative, but man he was doing everything but the work. It's like he couldn't focus for more than a minute before spacing out again, and by then they've moved to the next slides. Then he would ask to copy off Pico's notes. He respected the hustle, but jeez, not a single page on his own?

The next class he had with him was P.E. This kid was not very athletic.. At all. His shoes managed to be untied half the time, so he couldn't even run around outside if he wanted to. He watched him fall flat on his face twice now. Twice. In the span of five minutes. Pico, Nene, and Darnell met back up P.E, so he was hanging with them under a tree. He couldn't leave the awkward goofball by himself though.

"That's.. kinda sad.." Darnell murmured as he watched the boy fall for the third time ten minutes later. "I'ma go get him." Pico sighed lightly. Nene and Darnell didn't have time to stop him before he jogged over to him. Apparently some of the girls thought it would be funny to laugh at him. Surprisingly, Bee was laughing too. Maybe he didn't know they were laughing at him. "Bee!" The ginger called, and he looked up from the grass.

The girls damn there scattered when they saw Pico. He had a bit of a destructive reputation. His father was proud. "Come on, can I take you to some of my friends? They're cool, I promise." He offered a hand to help him up. "Beep!" Bee thankfully took it. Still with the bobbity bops? They've at least spoken for a whole day at this point. Is this not how romantic comedies work?

Pico led him over to the duo, who watched nervously. They were prepared to laugh if the little dude fell over again. Pico couldn't blame them. He was too.

"Nene, Darnell, this is Bee. He still beeps."

"Beep boop!"

Darnell seemed astonished, probably getting the urge to write down notes or something. "Do you speak english?" Nene asked him awkwardly. She probably didn't want to ask that, knowing full well sometimes people ask her the same shit. Kids were stupid. Bee nodded, and it made her more confused. "You.. Then.. the beeping.." She trailed off, and Bee simply gave her a knowing smirk. He seemed to do that a lot.

"Just call him Bee. Also dude tie your fucking shoes." Pico elbowed the smaller in the arm, going back over to sit by Darnell, who was now watching the boy intensely for his next words. "Skdoo bep.." Bee laughed sheepishly, bending over to do so. That's a new sound. Skdoo. Hah, funny. "Is it like.. your own way to communicate because you don't wanna speak english?" Darnell suddenly asked, which made Bee gasp and shoot up, completely forgetting about his shoes. "Beep! Boop Beep!" He pointed at the brown skinned boy and nodded.

"THAT MAKES EVEN LESS SENSE!" Nene cried out exasperatedly, tugging at her hair in despair. She had a point there. It would make it easier for everyone else if he would just talk in a way they could understand. However, if he didn't want to, he didn't have to. Plus Pico liked the sound it made. It was kinda.. musical.

"Wait, are you holding a microphone? Where did that even come from?" Pico suddenly pointed out. Bee turned around, pushing his hands against his pants and into the back pocket. Those were some.. deep ass pockets. Maybe that's why he wore baggy pants.. To sneak that in there. "You like to sing?" Darnell asked curiously. The boy nodded vigorously. The three seemed to lean to attention, waiting for him to do something.

Bee blinked, but seemed to get the memo after another moment of silence. He gave his little smirk, then cleared his throat. Much to the group's disappointment, what came out weren't words, just more.. unintelligible noises, however that changed when they heard how he sounded. The noises made a little melody together, to the sound of a show they would all watch at three in the morning. It sounded... Good?? Not the best but he was just a kid after all.

"Wow that was really pretty!" Nene gushed lightly, causing Bee to blush a little. He had hella confidence, it was admirable. "You might just become a singer in the future if you keep working at it." Pico sniggered lightly. That must have been a genuine compliment to Bee, since he gently kicked the dirt and looked down with his hands behind his back. "We're gonna need to hear more from you." Nene then demanded. Bee nodded eagerly, and started the next song he had in mind.

________________________________________________________________________________

He had sang to them for the rest of P.E. It put Pico to sleep, so he was startled when Bee woke him up. He had looked up to see students retreating back inside, and was urged to follow by his friends.

Just like the day before, Pico, Nene, and Darnell were walking home together. Bee was a rider, meaning his parents or whoever came to pick him up. It was a regular routine, the three stopping by the park, hijacking the playground, and hanging around.

Pico relaxed on his favorite spot near the slide, watching Nene play on the monkey bars, and Darnell sat by him after getting off the swings. "Things are weird." Pico suddenly spoke up, which seemed to startle Darnell. "What do you mean?"

"It feels like something is gonna happen."

"Gee, did I scare you with the warzone talk?"

"No, dumbass!" Pico socked Darnell's shoulder, who lightly laughed at him. "It felt like.. something was following us yesterday."

"Now you're really paranoid." Darnell sucked air through his teeth. "I'm not! I saw something! What if... I mean.. I'm not scared. I can handle anything.." Pico rolled his eyes. He knew he was the shit, no one needed to make him second guess that. "Come on, let's go home before it gets dark again. Someone is afraid of the dark." Darnell called to Nene, a smug look on his face as he looked back to Pico. "Shut the hell up!" Pico huffed loudly, damn there launching himself off the play set. They were gonna tease him about this forever. Whatever, he knew what he saw. He just wasn't scared of it.

Later that night he texted his dads to stay safe, but at the same time protect the city like they always do. His father, of course, sent a kitten gif that said "best son" at the bottom. He laughed quietly under his blanket, but quickly turned off his phone and pretended to be asleep when Clarissa opened their bedroom door, poking her head in. "Night boys." Her voice was gentle, and Pico found himself smiling a little. Yeah. Everything was fine.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 23

First

Previous

Next

~~~

She pouted. “Ew. What’s with the ultimatum?”

“I have two younger brothers. I’m not stupid.”

"Fine. Whatever. I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Please.”

She gave him a small shove. “I was going to make cookies after, but I guess you don’t want any.”

His eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

A grin spread across her face as she got up and started grabbing herself some pajamas. “No cookies for you... unless you learn to grovel in the twenty minutes I’ll be in the shower.”

“Twenty minutes? Why do girls always take so long?”

“Not starting off well, are we?” She hummed, before slipping into her bathroom.

When she came out, her hair in a towel, he immediately wrapped her in a hug. “Ladybuuuuug, light of my liiiiiife --.”

Her nose scrunched up as she shoved his face away. “Ugh. I’d rather be insulted.”

“I can arrange that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Surprisingly, I’d prefer if you didn’t do either. What type of cookies do you want?”

“Macarons?”

She sighed. Well, at least she could give some to Tikki, she supposed. The kwami certainly deserved at least a cookie. “Fiiiine. The neighbors are going to hate me.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see,” she said cryptically as she started to pull out ingredients.

He waited until she had started whipping the eggs to insult her: “For a designer, your place is suuuuper boring.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, then paused. “Wait, how’d you know I was a designer?”

The man’s eyes widened and he seemed to be mulling over how to answer, but he was saved from making up an excuse by a rapping on the window. They looked over to find a glaring Red Robin.

Marinette raised her eyebrows and turned off her mixer. Then she opened the window for him. “Hey.”

He was looking right past her, though, the offended expression on his face clear as day. “I cannot believe you came to visit Marinette without all of us! That’s not allowed!”

Red Hood frowned. “But isn’t that what you were doing?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“But I’m not! I’m just saying that --.”

She left the brothers to bicker as she went to work on the macarons. She smiled to herself as she piped the little circles, then glanced back at the pair, who were pretty much arguing the same points over and over. She considered giving a warning, then decided it would be more fun if she didn’t.

She banged the baking tray on the counter to get the air bubbles out. Red Hood screeched. Red Robin’s head hit the ceiling.

She grinned as she set down her tray.

“Why would you do that?” Whispered Red Hood.

She gave a small shrug. “Needed to.”

She ignored their protests as she walked to her coffee maker, then glanced at Red Robin. “Want any?”

“The good stuff, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m not going to cheap out on a vigilante. The way some of you guys are you’d probably shoot me.”

Red Hood huffed. “You shoot one person, ninety times and suddenly it’s your thing.”

She blinked. “Is that a joke?”

“Yeah.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly.

“I’ve actually shot ninety people, one time each.”

She didn’t know if that was much better.

Red Robin frowned. “I only know of around eighty.”

“Don’t tell Bats.”

Before either of them could respond, they heard someone knock on the window again. She glanced up to see Nightwing and…

Oh, come on! Why did he have to bring him along?

Red Hood let the others in with a small smile. “Hey.”

Marinette could feel Nightwing watching her carefully as she walked over. She knew he was looking for any sign she was injured, so she attempted to mimic her normal walking pattern.

“You’re walking a little weird, are you alright?” The oldest said, a smug grin on his face.

She was saved from thinking of an excuse as Red Robin walked over and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe if you weren’t watching her walk she wouldn’t be overthinking it so much.”

She blinked in surprise, looking up at him. Had he not noticed her walking weird earlier? Or did he have a reason for lying? She didn’t think he did, so her limp must not be all that noticeable.

She looked at Robin. ‘Marinette’ had no problems with the vigilante, they’d never met before. She would have to be nice to him to keep her identity. She beamed and held a hand out. “It’s nice to meet you!” She chirped.

He blinked once. Then slowly, hesitantly, shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

The coffee machine beeped and the two addicts’ eyes lit up instantly. They walked over as a pair, both eager to drink some caffeine (Marinette’s withdrawal was killing her), but then a realization struct them. They eyed each other warily. They’d made only one pot of coffee. Sharing it would be...

She sighed and pulled away from him. He looked a bit apologetic but Red Robin was never one to turn down coffee.

She sighed. Fine. She’s got to drink something. She reached under her cupboard and pulled out some wine. “You guys can all have this, right?”

Before anyone could respond, Nightwing had snatched the drink from her hands. “It doesn’t matter because you can’t drink!”

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “It’s legal in my country.”

“But not in ours! Where you are currently staying! How did you even get your hands on this?”

She couldn’t tell him that she had gotten it as Ladybug because she knew the clerk wouldn’t ask for her ID, so she just shrugged innocently and tried to change the subject: “You’re more uptight than my actual mom.”

Nightwing scoffed. “Whatever.”

A grin tugged at her lips as she got an idea. “How about a bet? I call my mom and ask her. If she says I can have it, you have to let me drink. If she says no, I’ll give you all the wine in my apartment.”

“THIS ISNT YOUR ONLY ONE?”

“Obviously not.”

His eyes narrowed. “Fine! Call her!”

She grinned and pulled out her phone. She hid the screen with the illusion of hiding her password when really she was just getting rid of the thousands of notifications she’d gotten while she was out. She searched for a bit before facetiming her mom.

The boys clustered around her curiously. Red Robin rested his elbow on her shoulder, sipping at the coffee. Red Hood sat on her other side, his cheek pressed against hers despite her halfhearted protests. Nightwing was forced to stand on the tips of his toes to see and confirm that she was actually calling her mom. Robin stood behind the phone, peeking over to see.

“Maman!” She cheered as Sabine’s face appeared on the screen.

The woman blinked in surprise at all the vigilantes around her, then apparently just chose to accept it as a fact. “You haven’t called in ages!”

Her face reddened slightly. “Maman! Not in front of my friends!”

Sabine huffed. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later.”

Marinette gulped and nodded. The bat kids all gave her sympathetic looks. The feeling of ‘oh crap I missed to many of my parent’s calls’ is almost universal.

“Hi, Mrs. Cheng!” Chirped Red Hood, beaming. “We’re adopting your daughter!”

The poor girl squeezed her eyes shut. “No. No you’re not.”

“Right, right, of course.” He nodded, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s supposed to be a surprise. We’re adopting her. Don’t tell her.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and shoved his face away. “Don’t mind him. He’s stupid.”

“Hey!”

She decided that she should get this call over with before either side could embarrass her. “This is Nightwing.” She pointed him out. “He thinks you won’t let me drink.”

Her mother laughed, rolling her eyes. “This is all you called for? Of course you can.”

Nightwing’s face reddened. “It’s illegal to drink underage!”

“We’re French,” said Marinette with a sigh. She smiled. “Thanks! I’ll call you back when they’re not here! Bye, I love you!”

“Love you, too!”

She hung up quickly, despite everyone’s protests, and set her phone down. She gave Nightwing a cheeky grin. “Told you.”

The man scowled. “I can’t believe this. You’re a child.”

She grinned and pulled away from everyone. She brought down some glasses and glanced back at Red Robin. “Hey, you drinking or are you good with just coffee?”

He mulled it over, then shrugged. “I’ll take some, I guess. It sucks to be the only sober one of the group.”

She gave a small nod. “Makes sense. Someone put the cookies in the oven. Someone else set a timer for, I don’t know, eight minutes and we’ll check on it.”

Robin ended up popping the macarons in because he was closest. Red Hood took out a phone (dang it, it didn’t even have any cool features for her distinguish, it was just a black phone case) and set a timer.

She poured out five glasses, much to Nightwing’s dismay. She waited for him to complain about giving Robin any, which would give a pretty good confirmation that they were the Waynes as he was still underage, but he didn’t. She was left to wonder if she was wrong about her assumption or if he knew what she was trying.

The tiny pout on her face disappeared as they clinked glasses. She plopped herself down on the counter and watched them drink. For the French, drinking was mostly a social thing that you did at a slow pace. For Americans...

Dang, are they even tasting it?

She rolled her eyes. “The wine will still be here in a few minutes.”

Red Robin grinned. “Not at this rate it won’t.”

She had to give him that. He really wasn’t wrong.

“Wanna play a drinking game?” Asked Red Hood.

Nightwing scowled. “No.”

“You don’t have to join in. I’d love to,” said Robin.

Hm. Maybe he was Damian Wayne. At the very least, he was definitely underage, if that look on his face was anything to go by.

Well, then he’d definitely be a lightweight. She suppressed a snicker at seeing the normally uptight vigilante without inhibitions, vaguely wondered if he would be just as annoying when drunk. Also, maybe, she wanted to spite Nightwing a bit for trying to keep her away from alcohol.

“Sure, I’d love to see what you Americans do for drinking games.”

She smiled ‘innocently’ at the glare Nightwing sent her.

They sat in a circle and she sighed as she tipped her head back to rest on the couch. “Really? I thought people only did Never Have I Ever in movies.”

“It’s fun!” Defended Red Hood. “And a good way to get to know each other, since you and Robin haven’t met.”

The pair in question gave each other wary looks from across the circle.

She sighed. “Fine. Never have I ever been a vigilante.”

Red Hood raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned at him, daring him to call her out on her lies right in front of Nightwing; he lost, obviously, and took a drink. Red Robin grinned as he tipped his head back to drink. Robin beamed at the excuse and downed his drink with only a little bit of coughing afterwards. Nightwing glared at her over the rim of his glass.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get us drunk.”

She rolled her eyes. “The minute I brought out the wine it was going to happen anyways. Thought I’d speed it up.”

He gave her a suspicious look but complied with the rules of the game.

She poured them all new glasses.

“Fine. My turn.” Nightwing gave her a cutting look. “Never have I ever designed an outfit.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “So bitter.”

“You’re one to talk.”

She could only laugh in response. She downed her glass and smiled as she poured herself another.

Robin grinned. “My turn, I guess.” He tapped his finger on his chin. “Never have I ever... attempted murder.” He took a drink. As did every single vigilante in the room.

Marinette blinked. “Is that allowed?”

“Who cares?” Said Robin brightly.

Fair enough.

Red Hood crossed his legs. “Never have I ever...” He  smirked. “Surrogate son-ed my own brothers.”

The oldest cursed and took a drink. “This isn’t how this game is supposed to work.”

“We’re ‘getting to know each other’,” said Red Robin with a small wink.

Marinette grinned and got up to pull the cookies out of the oven, setting them out to cool and narrowing her eyes when she saw Nightwing hadn’t refilled his drink. She stared him down until he did.

She pulled out some more glasses of wine. At this rate, they’d get through her whole supply within the hour.

The moment she saw his face she knew Red Robin was going to get her. “Never have I ever... lived in France!”

She scoffed and took a drink. “Too easy.” She tipped her head to the side. Who hadn’t had any in a while? Damian was going to get himself to drink, so he wasn’t a problem... Her eyes zeroed in on Red Hood, who paled a little. “Never have I ever dropped by my house with the intention of hanging out with me alone.”

Red Hood and Red Robin both drank. Oh yeah. He’d done it, too. Whatever, he needed to drink again anyways.

Nightwing looked affronted. “That’s no fair! We come as a team or not at all! Never have I ever died!”

Marinette was horrified as she watched everyone except for Red Robin and Nightwing take a drink. “You what?!”

“Long story,” Robin waved her off vaguely. “It’s a Robin thing.”

She frowned. Then she remembered Desperada. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly and took a drink.

“YOU WHAT?!” Yelled Red Hood.

“Long story,” she said with a small grin. “It’s a Paris thing.”

Robin laughed and shook his head slowly. “Great. I love her,” he said.

She snickered. “Man, how much of a lightweight are you?”

He only shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out. Never have I ever...”

And so, they continued on like that. Calling each other out on stupid things they’d done in stupidly specific ways, telling each other stories. It was fun, and she actually did find herself enjoying it, even if they were exposing the hell out of her.

Red Hood was conscious, but only barely. He laid next to Robin, practically screaming the words to Six in his ear.

Lucky for said vigilante, he had passed out a few drinks in and now laid in the middle of the circle, a few empty bottles were perched precariously on his stomach, wobbling unsteadily with every breath.

Nightwing stared at the ceiling with a mostly blank look on his face. He was mumbling to himself. She swore he was talking about the meaning of life.

Red Robin almost seemed sober, which was shocking because he’d easily drank the most. He smiled calmly as he sipped at his now-cold coffee, seeming content to just relax with his family.

Marinette, the least drunk because she hadn’t been known as long, smiled as she slowly pushed herself to her feet. She walked over to the macarons and looked at them for a few seconds. She’d thought she would get them done that night, but she was realizing that a pattern was emerging: she’d never finish baking anything if the vigilantes came by.

She set the cookies in the freezer to preserve them and hummed to herself as she set a blanket over Red Hood. “Sleepy time!” She chirped.

The grown man pouted at her. “I don’t wannaaaaa!”

She laughed and shook her head. “Well, you gotta. Sleep. And you’re sharing a blanket with Robin, I don’t have a lot.”

He pouted but did what he was told.

She smiled and set a blanket over Nightwing next. He barely even seemed to register the action.

That done, she sat down next to Red Robin and wrapped a blanket around them both. “You think you can carry these three home?” She asked, even though she knew for a fact that he wasn’t going to. She wouldn’t have bothered with blankets if she thought there was a chance of it. Still, she thought she’d ask.

“I don’t even think I can get myself home right now,” he admitted with a shrug.

She snickered and rested her head on his shoulder. “What’s your dad going to say?”

He grinned and put his hands up by his ears to mimic Batman’s costume: “‘How could you be so irresponsible as to let your brother get drunk?! You couldn’t even come home! Don’t you know your own limits?!’”

She blinked.

He coughed into his hand awkwardly. “Not that I’d know, of course. This is my first time doing this.”

“Riiiiight.”

Red Robin was silent for a little bit, then he laughed. “Did you really memorize your crush’s entire schedule?”

She blushed. “I was a dumb kid in ‘love’! Leave me alone!” Then she remembered something. “Wait a minute! You did it too!”

He snickered and rested his head on top of hers. “Yeah, but mine wasn’t a crush, really. I was just a paranoid, nosy little crap as a kid.”

She grinned. “I believe it.”

He huffed and rested his arm around her. “Rude.”

“Mmm,” she said vaguely. She closed her eyes. “Good night.”

“Good night, Marinette.”

~~~

Two updates in a day because I am a benevolent god and not at all because I’m procrastinating studying for my economics test tomorrow

~

“Is [Jason] really not going to tell the rest of the bats her identity?”

Yep. It’s a secret. Both for plot reasons (it’s more fun if they all find out individually) and for personal reasons I’ve given the characters (i.e. Jason not wanting to give Dick the satisfaction of being right)

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood

[peachyteez]

second chances ≫ DAY TWO, NEEDLES.

as a feral wolf hybrid that was violent with all of the employees assigned to him, seonghwa was subjected to be put down. however, jiyu being the softhearted feral hybrid nurse she was, she decided to save seonghwa no matter what.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added!

✧ note: puppy!beomgyu makes me so soft, y’all don’t even know—

back。| next。

“are you sure this is a good idea?” yeonjun asked for what seemed like the millionth time since jiyu came into work. even though he transferred seonghwa’s file to her, he still had his doubts about leaving jiyu with a violent hybrid.

jiyu sighed. they were walking down the hall towards seonghwa’s room so jiyu can check up on him. “yes, jun. i’ll be fine,” she reassured. “you underestimate my skills a lot, you know,” she teased with a chuckle.

yeonjun pouted and crossed his arms. “can’t blame me for being worried,” he grumbled. seeing they already arrived at said hybrid’s room, he patted her head. “well, this is your stop. hope to see you during lunch and not in the infirmary,” he said before leaving.

jiyu scoffed at yeonjun’s remark, yet she couldn’t help but smile. pressing the numbers on the keypad, jiyu took a deep breath before pressing the enter button.

seonghwa’s ears perked when he heard two voices on the other side of the door. then he heard one of them walk away while the other stayed. hearing the beep of the keypad and the opening of his door, seonghwa turned his head away from the window to look at the person.

he was mildly surprised when he recognized the same female from the previous day. he kept his eyes trained on her with his guard up.

jiyu softly smiled when she spotted the hybrid sitting on the floor and looking back at her. seonghwa didn’t say anything and returned his gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. jiyu gently placed the clipboard down on the table and walked towards the hybrid and sat down next to him, but maintaining a safe distance. “hi, seonghwa.”

seonghwa glanced at her from his peripheral vision and gave a slight nod of his head—his way of greeting. jiyu’s smile grew wider when he acknowledged her. he wasn’t as bad as others made him out to be, and she didn’t know why.

“can you let me do a checkup on you?” she carefully asked. she saw him tense. “is that a no?”

after a moment’s hesitation, seonghwa wordlessly stood up from the ground and moved to the bed. he sat down and stared at jiyu. sensing her confusion, he gestured with his head towards the stethoscope around her neck.

jiyu gasped. “thank you!” she chirped before springing up from the floor and walking towards the hybrid. she placed the stethoscope in her ears. “don’t be alarmed. this is just to check your heartbeat. i promise i won’t hurt you, okay?” she gently reassured before putting the stethoscope on his chest.

seonghwa flinched from the cold metal object on his chest and he started growling. jiyu immediately retracted the intstrument. “no no no, it’s nothing harmful. see?” she put the metal part of the stethoscope on her own chest to demonstrate how unharmful it was. “it’s not hurting me and it won’t hurt you, either.”

his growling ceased after a minute and jiyu took it as a sign to try again. gently placing it on his chest, she internally sighed in relief when seonghwa didn’t start growling again. telling him to take deep breaths in and out, they smoothly finished with the stethoscope.

“your heartbeat sounds normal,” she mumbled to herself as she wrote on seonghwa’s medical file. most of it was filled out with the exception of his heart rate condition and the shots. it turns out that the previous nurses were never able to give him his shots since he always attacked them.

jiyu took a deep breath as she prepared the syringe. her back was towards seonghwa, so he didn’t notice the needle in her hand. she turned back towards the hybrid. seonghwa spotted the syringe and immediately, his started growling again. and this time, his chilling gaze was fixed on jiyu.

jiyu hid the syringe behind her back. she felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought of seonghwa attacking. “are...are you afraid of needles...?” she asked.

seonghwa backed up on the bed as he kept his eyes on jiyu. like the previous day, he pressed himself ip against the corner and continued growling as a warning. gently putting the needle back on the table, she held her hands up again.

“look, i don’t have the needle anymore,” she showed. “please calm down, seonghwa. i won’t hurt you.”

she waited with bated breath for him to calm down on his own terms. seeing that jiyu was just standing still, not making a move, seonghwa immediately stopped. but he still kept himself pressed against the wall.

“okay, then...no shots today, i guess,” jiyu mumbled as she slowly shuffled back over to the clipboard. putting the cover over the needle, she put the syringe back in the breast pocket of her white coat and turned back to the hybrid in the corner. her face softened. “sorry, buddy.”

seonghwa cocked his head to the side, skeptcism written all over his face. usually whenever he refused the shots, the nurses always tried to hold him down to insert the needle into his arm. not that the method ever worked since seonghwa always went into violent mode.

yet jiyu just put the syringe away and didn’t try to force him?

jiyu sensed his apprehension. “i won’t force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. i don’t know what you went through before coming here, but as your new caretaker, i’ll try to help you recover as much as i can,” she explained with a soft smile. “so no need to be afraid of me, okay?”

a curious expression replaced the glare on seonghwa’s face. did the woman in front of him really have no malicious intents? did she really mean what she said?

glancing at the clock, she realized her time with seonghwa was up. “oh, it’s soobin’s turn,” she said to herself before turning her attention back to seonghwa. “well, that’s all the time we have for now! i’ll come by and check up on you during my lunch break.”

with a little wave and smile, jiyu left seonghwa’s room. like the previous day, seonghwa stared at the door. he cocked his head to the side again. “interesting...”

meanwhile, jiyu internally berated herself as she walked to soobin’s room. “ohmygod, why did you have to whip out a needle on the first day!” she whisper–shouted to herself. “so much for trying to get him to warm up...”

“jiyu!”

turning towards the voice, her eyes widened when she saw a familiar golden retriever hybrid barreling towards her at high speeds. “wait, wait, slow down–”

bam!

her warning proved to be useless as the puppy–hybrid literally crashed into her and they both tumbled to the floor.

jiyu, flat on her back with a hybrid towering over her, crossed her arms and furrowed her eyebrows. “beomgyu, what did i say about tackling people?” she gently scolded as she reached up and flicked his forehead.

beomgyu laughed and stood up before helping jiyu up. “sorry! i just got excited,” he sheepishly explained as he scratched the back of his neck. jiyu couldn’t help but smile.

“beomgyu, come back!”

frantically turning the corner was yeonjun as he searched for the energetic hybrid. finding him with jiyu, he sighed in relief. approaching the two, he bent down with his hands on his knees as he tried catching his breath. “what...did i...say...about running...off?” he panted.

beomgyu stuck his tongue out. “you’re just out of shape.”

yeonjun immediately stood up straight. “yah!”

beomgyu giggled and hid behind jiyu, poking his face above her head since she was significantly shorter than him. yeonjun just sighed—he can never win against beomgyu. jiyu snorted at the scene, letting beomgyu rest his chin on top of her head.

“you actually came out unharmed,” yeonjun incredulously commented. “how did he not attack you?”

“i was just gentle with him. but i couldn’t give him his shots...seems like he hates needles,” she said.

“oh, yeah! yeonjun–hyung told me about park seonghwa,” beomgyu piped up. “if he ever hurts you, i’ll bite him!”

jiyu softly chuckled as she imagined beomgyu trying to bite someone like seonghwa. “thanks, beomgyu,” she thanked as she reached up and scratched behind his ears, making him close his eyes in content.

yeonjun stuffed his hands in his white lab coat pockets. “yeah, he wouldn’t let anyone give him his shots. usually, the other hybrids take a week or two until they get used to us and the checkups, so we can give them the shots. but it’s been about two months already for seonghwa and he’s still attacking everyone, even if he’s seen them everyday.”

jiyu furrowed her eyebrows. “i don’t know what he went through before coming here, but maybe that explains his behavior,” she said. “well, either way, i won’t force him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. the previous nurses were probably too forceful with him.”

yeonjun thoughtfully hummed.

“oh, i was supposed to go visit soobin!” jiyu squeaked in realization.

beomgyu gasped. “can we come, too?!” beomgyu asked, giving her his best puppy–dog eyes.

“yeah, can we?” yeonjun asked. “i haven’t seen him since he was admitted here.”

jiyu nodded. “alright, just try not to overwhelm him, okay?” she asked, although she was directing the question more to the hyper golden–retriever hybrid.

beomgyu smiled and playfully saluted. “yes ma’am!”

yeonjun sighed. “sometimes i think you listen to jiyu more than you do to me.”

[breezy-bird-spinch]

CONSIDER

(I’m assuming this was made before Shotaro and Sungchan joined, so I’ll add them to houses 5 and 3 respectively)

House 1: Taeyong, Ten, Jungwoo, and they’re all giving the silent treatment

Pros:

- you can basically do whatever you want if they aren’t talking to you

- you’ve got Taeyong so the house will be nice and clean, and you can experience his holy cooking

- Taeyong and Ten mean you’ll have fish and cats to hang out with

- it’s never a boring day when Ten and Jungwoo, NCT’s confident gays, are in the same room

- imagine the gossip between these three that you can just listen in on

Cons:

- not bad for you, per se, but Louis and Leon mean those fish might not last too long

- Jungwoo’s probably gonna have a weird ass sleeping setup with the members like his current room with Jaehyun. Again not really bad, just weird.

- you can’t talk to them because they’re giving you the silent treatment

- no fruit if Ten’s there

Loophole: it wasn’t specified how long they’d be giving you the silent treatment for

House 2: Kun, Hendery, Jaemin, but you can only communicate by shouting as loud as you can

Pros:

- pure chaos

- Kun can cook and keep people alive; Hendery and Jaemin cannot

- waking up early won’t be a problem because you won’t be sleeping in the first place

- you finally have a good reason to buy those nice sound cancelling headphones you wanted

Cons:

- pure chaos

- I’ll give it three days for Kun to completely go insane

- between Hendery’s chaotic self and Jaemin’s espresso shots nobody’s getting any sleep ever

- those sound cancelling headphones won’t even work though because MinDery are too loud

Loophole: ha good luck there isn’t one

House 3: Doyoung, WinWin, Jeno, Sungchan, but the smoke alarm is on low battery and is beeping the whole time

Pros:

- seukka seukka

- Doyoung can keep the house clean

- WinWin would probably do chores out of boredom too

- Jeno will probably make beeping noises right with the smoke alarm, so at least it’ll be funny

- Sungchan can experience firsthand Doyoung’s wrath. Wait... is this a pro or a con??

Cons:

- until you’ve been kept up at night by a chirping smoke alarm, you have not felt true pain and suffering

- WinWin will probably cut all his hair off by the time quarantine is over. He’s barely got any sanity left please let him keep the crumbs he still has

- Doyoung may keep the house clean but he gets angry

- Sungchan’s tall enough to fix the alarm but bold of you to assume he knows how

Loophole: gl

House 4: Taeil, Lucas, Xiaojun, Chenle, but the only food is plain toast

Pros:

- Lucas came up with the idea of having different varieties of drinks to replace to blandness of having plain toast everyday

- Taeil, Chenle and Lucas are total party animals so no day would be boring

- Xiaojun and Chenle means you get Bella and Daegal too

- since you can only eat toast, Xiaojun can’t make his questionable oreo microwave cake

Cons:

- Chenle’s gonna lose it and cut Daegal’s hair again, save her

- Bella better watch out in case Chenle comes for her next

- Chef Moon Taeil is quaking because all they can eat is toast

- You just can’t let Haechan know you were spending time with Daegal because he will end you

- the house will probably be a mess since Taeil is part of the 10th floor and Xiaojun and Lucas are part of the WayV dorms. And Chenle

- Bella’s gonna pee on the floor again and Xiaojun will have had enough at that point and leave the house to go join the goose mafia

Loophole: the toast has to be plain, which I’d assume means you can’t have anything on it. Nothing mentions the kind of toast. You got wheat toast, white toast, rye toast, etc.

House 5: Yuta, Mark, Renjun, Jisung, Shotaro, but the house is super haunted

Pros:

- Mark freestyle rapping while everyone else is screaming and getting chased around by evil spirits

- Yuta would tell scary ghost stories to freak everyone out but you’d probably cackle at Mark’s scared face. “I- I’m not scared, dude. Nah, yo”

- Taro’s safe because nobody can get angry at his cuteness and he’s too pure to be haunted by anything. The spirits love him

- Mark and Jisung are banned from the kitchen, so no house fires unless Renjun snaps

- Yuta’s just vibing and here for the ride honestly

Cons:

- Who tf was cruel enough to put Jisung in the haunted house group?? Boy gets scared so easily

- Renjun would realize the house is haunted and be like “please take them”

- if he doesn’t kill the other members himself out of rage

- honestly you’ll walk into the living room to catch him sitting by a pentagram and candles with Jisung as a sacrifice

Loophole: hehe good luck :)

House 6: Johnny, Jaehyun, Haechan, YangYang, but there’s no internet/tv/video games

Pros:

- Johnny’s jokes

- experience Jaehyun’s unbothered (• ◡ •) ?? look in all its glory

- Johnny, YangYang and Haechan could be screaming at the top of their lungs meanwhile Jaehyun’s just looking into some imaginary camera like he’s on the office, mentally sipping a margarita thousands of miles away on some tropical beach and you will laugh your ass off

- just lots of laughs and probably pranks

Cons:

- could Haechan and YangYang actually survive that long without internet?? Nah

- I mean they could but it would be at the expense of everyone else’s safety and sanity

- pretty sure these four could be considered a frat

- have fun being trapped in a house with four bored extroverts for who knows how long

- you’ll slowly go insane

Loophole: no video games? Play monopoly and watch Jaehyun’s competitive ego crumble as Haechan takes control of half the board

I’d probably choose house 1, 2, or 6. 1 because my ult bias is there, and so are his cats, and cats bring serotonin. 2 because who needs sleep when you have fun, screaming and coffee?? 6 because come on. Those four members stuck in a house with no internet has some comedic possibilities.

[ee-furoido]

So... Jade x Raven DUO magic when?

Ah! I’ve been waiting to write this for a while, and since @raven-at-the-writing-desk mentioned getting a similar ask, I decided to continue her story.

Raven’s Part 1 is here. My story is Part 2!

...But Only One to Let Go

The courtyard was packed with loitering students; some studying, others lounging on the grass. It was a place of solace for most students, to not have to think about the worries of their classes and tests. But not for much longer.

Jade was sitting on a bench in the center of the courtyard, a notebook and pencil in hand. He was sketching the flora of the courtyard, although his eyes were not on the page. While his hand moved effortlessly across the paper, his gaze lingered on the students. Every once in a while, he would scribble a note to the side of the latest thing he had drawn.

Perhaps another interesting note to tuck away for future use. No wonder there was a wide berth around his bench.

“J-Jade Leech!”

An almost eerie silence fell over the courtyard as the loud chirp rang out. A petite girl with long, black pigtails stomped up to the Octavinelle vice dorm leader. Jade’s gaze shifted to her, placing his pencil between the pages of his book and closing it shut. His narrowed eyes took in her flustered cheeks and clenched fists. A piece of black paper seemed to be crumpled up in her hand.

“Oya, oya, Miss Raven.” He said, pulling his features into a polite smile. The same conciliatory mask he was so used to slipping effortlessly over his more piercing and inquisitorial stares. 

Even within the courtyard's silence, the other students felt a rush of relief. His attention had turned to her. But even then, they watched with bated breath.

“How may I be of assistance today? I was not expecting you to come to me of your own accord like this.”

Jade shifted to one side of the bench and patted the seat next to him. An otherwise kind gesture, but that would entail getting even closer to him. Raven shook her head. She was fine where she was, shouting at him from 10 feet away.

“I assume you received the grade from our midterm exam as well.” Raven huffed, waving the scrunched up paper in her hands before crossing her arms. “I can’t say I’m pleased, and I’m quite certain you’re not either.”

Jade’s smile slipped for only a moment before he gathered it back up. He cocked his head to the side, his thin-lipped smile curling up even further. “Who knows?” 

“Wha- what does that mean?!” Raven sputtered. “You’re saying you’re fine with the C that Professor Crewel gave us!? I for one will not stand for it.”

She pointed at him with a steady finger. “We’re going to retake this test and if that means I have to force you to….. I- I will!”

With a light chuckle, Jade stood up, brushing eraser debris from his uniform as he did so. In only two steps, he was looming over the young Crowley, a wide grin showing off his dagger-like teeth. “Fufu, perhaps you should calm down, Miss Raven. If you continue on your little rampage, you may bite your tongue.”

“Calm d-”

Although she was already flustered, Raven’s face turned a brighter shade of red, one mixed with both anger and embarrassment. She clenched her teeth, trying to stop herself from striking his chest with her fists. ‘Can’t let him win.’

Jade let out another chuckle, amused by Raven’s resistance.

“Since you require a partner for this portion of the exam,” he said, curling his knuckles under his chin, “I suppose I cannot say no. Ah, I sincerely cannot leave a helpless creature in need.”

Much like the start of their most recent partnership, Jade extended a hand towards the bird, a literal offering of his help. “I’m sure you’ll be able to return the favor someday. Shall we adjourn to the training field?”

In a moment of deja vu, Raven’s eyes focused on his black gloves. How snugly it fit around his fingers, how cool it was to the touch when she had grasped it last. She wanted to forget her frustrations and take it once more.

With a deep intake of breath, Raven gave a pout, crossing her arms once more. She would hold her ground, not get lulled in by this siren. “... Yes, we shall. But as equals.” She spat his own words from the examination back at him. “There won’t be any favors or pay for this.”

Jade chuckled as Raven turned on her heel and promptly headed towards the gymnasium.

“As you wish.” He breathed to himself as he followed her.

The courtyard quickly filled with the buzzing of muted conversation after they left. The witnesses left behind whispered to each other about the scene that had played out. It wasn’t often that Jade Leech himself was at the center of potential gossip, after all. 

Raven found herself waiting at the training field alone.

“I’ll only be a moment late.” Jade had said. “There is something I must retrieve first.”

A moment had turned into 20 minutes, then almost an hour. Raven did her best to hold back tears of frustration. She felt foolish, thinking he would be there without question, to care for his grade just as much as she did.

Of course he wiggled out of this when he could, the slippery little eel. ‘I did not shake on it, so he didn’t deem it necessary to actually show up.’ Raven’s thoughts steamed as she kicked her sportswear sneakers. ‘That uncultured, underhanded, untruthful…. slimy-’

“My apologies for the tardiness,” Jade’s voice rang out. While she had been simmering in her own thoughts, he had arrived. And he seemed to carry a large silver orb about the size of a basketball. He had also taken the time to change into his athletic uniform, his usually buttoned up attire replaced by a long sleeve shirt and a half-way zipped up tracksuit.

Raven tore her eyes away from his exposed collarbone to the thing in his hands.

“Where have you been and… wh-what’s that?”

The mer-eel chuckled, tapping a few buttons on the orb before responding. The silver surface started to flicker blue and Raven could hear a light whirr as it powered up.

“A new artifact from the students of Ignihyde.” He explained. “Ever since their successful projection mapping during Halloween, there's been talks on other possible uses of the technology.”

“It came to my attention about a month ago that a few of them were working on what they called a Battle Application Droid. I had no need of it then, so I merely put that piece of information to the side at the time.”

“It took a bit of convincing to retrieve this from the Ignihyde students who have been completing the prototype, but in the end they knew what was good for them, fufu.” Jade’s chuckle was remorseless, only filled with amusement.

Raven almost thought to ask who the poor mob was that had found himself under Jade’s thumb, but thought better of it. Jade would most likely not give a straight answer, anyway.

“... So how does it work, then?”

“Essentially, we should be able to engage in a mock battle with holographic enemies.” He turns his attention back to the ball and inputs more on the keypad. “Ignihyde has access to the cameras of the school since they help maintain security. They also manage the servers where we upload all the videos from Dorm Leader battles and exams. Based on their algorithms, it should give us a randomized battle.”

Satisfied with the scenario he set into the orb, Jade hit the largest button on the side and rolled it out into the field.

“W-wait! Why’d you just-”

“We may need to stand back, Miss Raven.”

Jade threw an arm out in front of the bird and pulled her back a few feet. His hand clutched at his magical pen in his dominant hand. Seeing him prepare, Raven grasped her magical quill as tight as she could.

There was nothing else she could do at this point. No time to prepare, no time to back out.

The ball beeped a countdown in the middle of the field before erupting in a wave of blue light, sending a bright blue shock wave through the partners.

“Kh-” Raven flinched with grit teeth, using Jade's arm to shield her eyes from the light. She gripped onto his sleeve until it dimmed, and only then did she chance a look at their surroundings.

Her beak dropped open. They were in the coliseum. 

'Well, no, of course we aren't.' There was a light blue haze over what should be the stone slabs of the arena, as well as moments of static. But otherwise, it was an almost flawless holographic replica of the coliseum.

Ignihyde’s projection mapping had grown, no longer needing physical objects to display images. 3D holographic projection had arrived.

“Be prepared.”

Jade’s voice seemed so far away to Raven in that moment, but it snapped her back to reality. Facing them from across the field were two faceless students, magical pens raised.

“... Th-they cannot actually hit us, right?” Raven’s voice twittered from behind Jade’s arm. 

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Jade said. “If you would like to stay standing there and test that, Miss Raven, then be my guest. However, I would prefer to come out of this unscathed and am unwilling to experiment, fufufu.”

“Wha- You-”

A light chortle before Jade quickly pushed Raven away to the side as he jumped in the opposite direction. Right where they had been standing only a second prior, a pillar of blue fire erupted. The flames crackled as it burned up the sweet digital oxygen. 

Despite the close call, neither felt the heat. The simulation really was only an artificial emulation, after all.

“Seems like this should be quite easy to defeat.” Jade’s eyes glinted, the Ignihyde blue of the digital landscape dancing off of his olive and gold irises. “Especially knowing it cannot harm us.”

“We need to think like it can harm us, Jade…!” Raven squawked out from where she had tumbled onto the ground. “Otherwise, what is the purpose of this training?”

“I do believe it is for you to get a better grade, is it not?”

“YOU-”

Raven caught herself. There she went, falling into his rhythm, ready to bite back at the merest provocation. Professor Crewel’s words rang in her ear again.

“Your coordination could use much improvement. You were yapping at one another for almost the entirety of the battle.”

He wasn’t wrong then, and even now she could see them falling into the same pattern. Her fingers gripped her quill even tighter. What was it about him that caused her to act this way?

…

“Miss Raven!”

She had pulled her attention away from the scenario for only a second, but that was all it took for the simulated opponents to take advantage. A large ball of water was hurtling towards her—

—and was intercepted by a column of real leaves and wind, slamming down to the ground like a wall, just in time for the digital water to hit it and disintegrate.

“Fascinating.” Jade muttered, racing over to where Raven was pushing herself off of the ground. “For our physical magic to be able to intercept the holograms… Fufufu, this is much more technologically advanced than I expected.”

He glanced down at the smaller student, flashing a mocking grin. “Eyes open, my dear. I won’t always be there to save you.”

He turned his attention back towards the virtual opponents.

“Now is the time for our counter-attack.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to find a rhythm, to defeat wave after wave of artificial enemies. Although smart and biting quips were still thrown out from time to time, their wordless communication was their impenetrable defense—whenever one was targeted by an enemy, the other was on hand to assist. While one prepared their stronger physical attacks, the other parried incoming attacks.

Seamless unity.

The sun had started to set on Night Raven College, and the two were almost out of breath. Six waves of faceless blue students they had fought, and it was taking a toll on both of them. Their uniforms were a mess with dirt and grass stains, the crystals of their pens were both getting cloudy.

This was the last round dictated by the orb.

This last enemy was relentless, its speed faster than the others. Almost before either could react, it would send fireball after fireball downrange, keeping both Raven and Jade on their toes.

“Tch!” Jade growled, jumping out of the way of yet another blue ball of flame. “Relentless…”

He paused to catch his breath, gripping his pen. “Miss Raven, we need to settle this quickly, we should—”

“Watch out!” Raven shouted, pulling Jade towards her and onto the ground. A blue swirl of leaves from the other AI barely grazed the top of their heads.

A moment as they realize the position they were in. Jade had fallen, propped up on his hands, hovering over her. Half a heartbeat passed—

Jade rolled onto his back, panting and holding back a chuckle. Raven shook her head, trying to will away her fluster. Now was not the time to be thinking of how close that was.

“Eyes open, I won’t always be there to save you.” She shot at him, the same words he had mocked her with before.

Jade sat up and eyed the two opponents on the other side of the field, warily. From the looks of it, the two mobs were preparing a powerful spell, a duo…

He pushed himself off of the ground and reached his left hand out for Raven. With another light and exhausted laugh, he spoke.

“I’m pleased to know that you have my back when I require it, Miss Raven.”

A warm sensation emanated from Jade’s hand, one that Raven could not describe offhand. But it compelled her to take his offered hand this time, a static of magic crackling as the two of them touch. Another wave of blush scrawled across her cheeks. She gripped the quill in her other hand.

“Sh-shut up, Jade, I’m only doing this because I have to.” Her temperamental defense mechanism rising once more. 

Jade would have let another laugh escape him, but as the two of them connected by both touch and words, he could feel a second wind surge through him. In almost an instant, his exhaustion melted away. 

His heartbeat grew louder every second, and he could sense the magic radiating from his core to his pen.

His gaze fell on the artificial students.

‘Give no quarter.’

An immense pillar of water crashed down where the opponents had stood. Despite their distance, the water from the attack splashed all the way back to the two weary students. Jade gritted his teeth with determination.

The second strike materialized three large pillars of water dropping the AI to the ground, their magic concentration lost.

Jade’s eyes glittered with malicious glee as he swung his magical pen a third time, covering the other half of the field in a destructive wave of water. The digital enemies flickered under the pressure and disappeared—

—Quickly followed by the rest of the projection. The simulation was over.

“Well,” Jade said, wiping the sweat and dirt on his brow with his equally dirty sleeve. “I suppose this is a day well practiced.”

Raven nodded, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding during his ultimate attack. “Yes…”

…

“Jade…?”

“Yes, Miss Raven?”

“... Y-you can let go of my hand now.”

“Fufufu, of course, as you wish.”

Jade untangled his fingers from hers and gave a light, polite bow. He made his way to the center of the field to pick up the prototype B.A.D., wiping off the battle residue with his shirt. 

Raven stared off after him, proud of the difference their day of practice made. 

They would be ready for the makeup exam. No doubt about it.

[cowboyx2]

The Girl Behind The Screens

Prt 1

Summary: You get caught by the police and your friend from the FBI gets her team to help you out.

Warning: Curse words, and obviously typos

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Penelope Garcia was taking a small power nap in her office when she was jolted awake by a phone call. “Penelope Garcia at your service!” She chirped into her mobile phone which was unusual.

“Pen, it’s me...” you practically whispered into the phone. “Y/N? Oh my god this isn’t your number!! What’s wrong!?” Garcia was the worried to say the least. You and her worked side by side in her days as the black queen. “They got me. Look I know you work with the FBI now so I thought I should let you know. Don’t go and try to d-“ you were cut off by an obviously fuming Garcia.

“Where. The. Hell. Are. You?” You let out a chuckle knowing how silly she looks when she’s mad. “Quantico’s police station. Shit, I gotta go.” With the beeps on the other end of the phone Penelope grabbed her bags and leaped out the door.

“Woah there, Babygirl! Where you going off to in the middle of work?” Derek Morgan said as he tried to stop her from barreling past him by holding onto her shoulders. “I do not have time for this Derek!” She pushed past him into the elevator.

————————

An hour had past since Penelope had gotten to the station, she now stood sitting on a small bench waiting for her unit chief to arrive. The police weren’t releasing you and Penelope maybe had shouted in their face a little, just her luck they called her boss. Aaron entered the station with very concerned team behind him.

“Penelope, what’s going on?” Derek had dropped the pet names and had gone straight into worried friend mode. “The police won’t let me bail out my friend! She’s been sitting in there for a day and they only gave her a phone call now. She’s all alone and and-“ she was cut off by her own tears. Morgan pulled her into a hug while a police officer came up to them.

“Hello Agent Hotchner. Uhm” he glanced down at a crying Penelope. “Well you see she busted in here saying she needed to bail out a women were holding. We tried to explain the bail hadn’t been set yet because we were actually waiting for the FBI to come question her.” He sighed.

“Sir is the person in question Y/N L/N?” Hotch ask as his face stayed stoic. The officer let out a cough “Yes sir.” After Hotch explained his team was supposed to question her later today they were cleared to see her.

They all gathered into a small room that had a two way mirror that peered into a slightly larger room. In that said room was an upset girl who was wearing a striped sweater and black cuffed jeans. She looked to be quite annoyed with the cuffs she was in, her face held a scowl.

“What do we know about this girl?” Rossi peering past Penelope to look through the window. “Her names Y/N L/N, she has an eidetic memory like Reid. She worked along side Penelope when she was the black queen, a week before we caught Penelope she was convicted of assaulting a police officer and won her appeal after 4 months in prison. She has also been convicted of various other crimes all that were hacking related with minor sentences.” Hotch let out a sigh. Reid looked over to Garcia. “You’re friends with criminals?” She shot him a glare.

“Oh please, technically I am one too, I just decided to join the FBI instead of going to prison.” Penelope was fed up with this. Emily was curious though she watched the girl fiddle around in her seat, she was pretty. “Uhm why- uh I mean what is she being charged with?” Emily tried to hide her blushing face by coughing, let’s say it didn’t work.

“Same as Garcia.” Hotchs answer was cold his eyes didn’t leave the girl in the room.

————————

You were jingling you’re handcuffs as if that would somehow help the situation you were in. In defeat you slump down putting your head on the table when you here the door open. You were expecting some lame ass cop but to your surprise it’s your long time friend Penelope Garcia!

“You work fast.” You quickly remark while siding down in your chair. She smiles and throws her arms around you, your hands were occupied so it was a little awkward but nice nonetheless. “We’re gonna get you outta here!” She seems hopeful no she seems certain.

You look over to a black haired women and a muscular bald man. They were her team but you knew they were profilers, they judged your every move and made assumptions off them. You were already agitated by the fact of you being arrested but now you were being judged and watched. “Ah, Derek Morgan! You’re the man who trusts few closes others off. Love that, I relate.” You point to the muscular man. He opens his mouth but start again before he can say anything.

“Emily Prentiss, you overcompensate and hide your feelings for what you think is for the betterment of the team.” You pause and smile “But I will say you’re quite beautiful”

Emily was caught off guard by your bluntness, as you continued to list all the flaws of everyone else on the team. She was a blushing mess but tried to hide it to the best of her abilities.

“Oh and last but not least is Spencer Reid. Who hides behind his intellect to ignore his lack of social cues.” You let out a small smile though Penelope looks unimpressed. “Really Y/N, this isn’t helping you!” You sigh to look at her and mumble a weak sorry. Then the door swings open to reveal none other than Hotch.

“You did a background check on us?” His face keeps a stern look but you could feel the hint of confusion in his voice. “I had to make sure Pen was in good hands after I got outta jail.” He glances at your friend.

“Work with us or go to prison, your choice.” He wasn’t asking, yes it came out of his mouth but it was Penelope who was really saying it. The look of her glossed over eyes broke you, you didn’t want that life but her eyes pleaded. “What do I have to do?”

Before you knew it you were accepting the job offer and getting uncuffed. At least that agent was hot. Maybe Emily thought you were too, maybe.

This is part one of a new series! My Spencer Reid series is on hiatus for now because my dumb brain can’t think of what to add. Unfortunately I also deleted an entire fic I wrote for Spencer Reid accidentally, I’m in the process of rewriting it so look out for that! Thanks for the support.

-Much Love From A Gay Kermit