#// i was expecting this to be shorter but i suppose muse had a lot to say xD

[sgkophie]

Man's World - Chapter 4 - Heat? I Eat Chilis Raw

Pairing: Female!Leclerc reader x Carlos Sainz Jr

Warnings: slow burn, eventual Smut, enemies to lovers

Rating: Mature

AN: Did we like the Carlos POV from the last chapter? I think I might add some more Carlos POV if we think its fun! Thanks for all the lovely comments and messages - make me so excited to post!

Mini Synopsis: Georgia Leclerc is one of Bugatti's two female drivers. As the newest team in Formula 1, Bugatti has a lot to prove - especially since Team Principal Isabelle Binotto has decided to make the team a pre-dominantly female run team - from race engineers all the way to drivers. But even though Georgia has had an impressive start to her career, the press have labeled her a sassy hot head, nothing like her twin brother Charles.

With sponsorship money on the line, Ferrari and Bugatti come up with one solution – fake a relationship between Georgia and Carlos with the hopes that the Sponsors will see the drivers in a new light. An easy task – if the drivers didn’t hate each other.

Check out the full intro synopsis here!

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Thursday morning arrived and much like Wednesday, it was full of more publicity stunts and small media stories. We did a visit to the local children’s hospital in the morning, which was pleasant. I had always loved children and visiting the children’s hospital and speaking to the young girls truly brightened my day. That is, until we got to the track and Lizzie reminded me that I had a track walk with Carlos scheduled after the mandatory Drivers meeting run by the FIA. 

I wanted this FIA conference to last forever, but to my dismay, this one ended up being one of the shorter ones. Before I left for the Ferrari garage, Lizzie slid another index card into my hand with even more questions – because the other ones had gone so well last time, I mused to myself. I thanked her and headed off with my Bugatti hat and Ray Ban sunglasses. Figured they might remind Carlos what was at stake, and if it got under his skin, then even better. 

When I arrived at the garage I smiled sweetly, waving at Mattia Binotto, the Ferrari team principal and husband to Isabelle. “You here to see Charles?” He asked, a nice little twinkle in his eye. It took everything within me not to roll my eyes at him. The bastard knew I was here to see Carlos, but he wanted me to say it. 

“No, actually Carlos promised me a little walk around the track,” I said casually, “plus I figured it would be a good time to get all the details on this weekend’s Ferrari strategy,” I added with a wink. His face told me he didn’t think the last part of my sentence was particularly funny, but I didn’t care – Susie Wolff would get a good laugh out of it. 

Mattia nodded and gestured for me to come with him. The Ferrari garage was beautiful, and well designed. I was impressed, but I guess that’s what decades upon decades of Formula 1 races got you – a well oiled machine. 

As we approached Carlos’ room, I knocked on the door gently.

“Come in,” he said and I entered. I’m not sure what I was expecting from Carlos’ driver room, but it definitely wasn’t this. I suppose I was expecting whatever I saw when I walked into Charles’ room – an absolute mess. But instead, I was greeted with what could only be described as serial killer cleanliness. His room was in immaculate shape. 

He must have noticed the shock on my face. “Not all men are slobs like your brother.” 

I wanted to retort something sassy back to him, but in all honesty, it was good to see. “Shall we go?” I responded. 

He nodded and we exited the garage, heading towards the track. The Miami track was brand new to F1 in 2022, so several of the teams were out, walking around the track and analyzing everything from the curbs to the width of the straight. As we continued to walk down the track, I saw a bright color papaya shirt up ahead of us. 

“Danny!” I called out, causing the papaya shirt to turn around. Carlos groaned, clearly not interested in chatting to Danny, but I ignored him. 

“If it isn’t Little Ms. Sassy Leclerc,” he said, running up and giving me a big hug, lifting me ever so slightly off the ground. He nodded to Carlos, who nodded back, doing his best to avoid his eyes anywhere but Daniel’s face. 

“Enjoying Miami?” I asked. I knew Daniel lived in Los Angeles, and he visited to Miami often, but there was still no hiding his excitement every time he visited the city. 

“It’s marvelous as always. How about you, Carlos, enjoying the deeply rooted Spanish culture and cuisine?” Daniel knew the answer; there wasn’t a cultured bone in Carlos’ body as far as either of us were concerned, but it was still fun to watch Carlos squirm. 

Carlos only nodded, clearly looking around the track, searching for a way out of this conversation. Where was Lando when he needed him? 

“So Lando says you’re all going to drinks this evening. That sounds fun.” I knew Daniel was itching for an invite, but we needed to sell this an in intimate drinks between a couple and their two closest friends. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll save the good drinks for Sunday once we celebrate my win,” I said winking at him. He grabbed my shoulder playfully, giving me his big Daniel laugh. 

“Well, if we’re going to get to these drinks this evening, we better finish this track walk,” Carlos let out bitterly, clearly done with this conversation. 

I nodded. There was still a lot to do before tomorrow’s Free Practice sessions. We finished the rest of our track walk in complete silence. As we passed Pierre on the way out of the track and back to the pitlane, he waved at me, giving me a little squeeze on my arm and a wink as he walked by. I gave him a look that said, “please, god, save me” but he was gone before I could force him to talk to me. 

I dropped Carlos back off at Ferrari and headed back to the Bugatti garage. 

“Have a nice track walk?” Susie asked, raising her head from her computer screen. I gave her a look that, in my opinion, said it all. She chuckled and handed me an iPad. “Here, go finish reviewing the track with the analysis. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” I spent the rest of the afternoon at the track, reviewing the track analysis and discussing various race strategies with the team. 

“Alright Georgie,” I heard from behind. I set the iPad down and turned to see Lizzie, all smiles and bubbles as usual. “Ready to go conquer the world!?” She asked. 

“You mean ready to go feed the media dragon?” I asked sarcastically, raising one eyebrow at her. 

“Same thing,” she quipped back. I laughed – never a dull moment with Lizzie. 

We made our way to the media center where all the other drivers were waiting. Truth be told, these media days were some of the better ones because at least I had 4 other drivers in the conference room with me. They always split us up between 4 groups, five drivers per session - so you were never with your teammate. If a couple of drivers had a crash last race, the FIA would also put them together. The more drama, the better, especially if Netflix was filming that press conference for Drive to Survive. 

Typically the FIA put Charles and I together. They enjoyed the sibling banter back and forth, although they learned their lesson when they once added Lando into our session. I don’t think the media got any of their questions answered, and Lando spent half the interview in literal fits of laughter. 

I walked into my segment and of course sitting next to my seat was Carlos. Oh FIA, how you never let me down, I thought to myself sarcastically. Undoubtedly there had been some whispers in the paddock after our dinner last night and track walk together. While it hadn’t blown up on social media, the team was expecting this press conference and tonight’s drinks session to give us the push forward that everyone wanted – well, everyone except Carlos and I. 

I nodded at Carlos, who got up and gave me a mini hug. “Twice in one day, cariño, lucky me,” he said quietly, but not quiet enough so that the front row of journalists couldn’t hear. I just smiled and sat down, thankful that Lewis was to my right. He gave me a fist bump and a knowing look. Nothing got past the 7-time world champion. From my understanding, Lorenzo had filled him and Sebastian in on the drama because they were the most likely to say something to me about it, and they were always the first two drivers to defend me during bad press interactions. 

The conference started with the usual questions on the track and what we all thought about the FIA’s new jewelry ban. Soon the conversation moved onto the heat of the afternoon and the weather. Miami in June was known for rain, and tomorrow’s weather report was inconclusive, as Susie Wolff had said. It would either be blistering heat, or pouring rain. No in between. 

“So Georgia, how does it feel to be back in America, racing Formula 1 cars?” 

This was a simple question, I told myself, I could answer this. Nice and easy… but as I went to answer I could feel my hands start to clam up. I looked to my right and saw Lewis, who was smiling brightly at the camera, but I could see his eyes shift ever so slightly towards me. He wiggled his finger at me as if to say, “you got this kid.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s nice to be back.” 

The journalist nodded at me. “Since you’ve raced in the South before, do you think you’ll be ready for the heat tomorrow? I heard several of the drivers dropped several pounds today due to the heat.” It was true, the heat was bad and I had left the car considerably lighter then when I had went in. 

I wanted to roll my eyes a bit – they had neglected to ask Lewis, Carlos or Yuki if they could stand the heat in the car, but I decided not to let it bother me. Still, I guess my internal conflict was taking too long because before I could answer I heard Carlos say, “Please… I can’t think of anyone more prepared to fight the heat – last night at dinner I literally saw her eat a chili pepper raw,” he joked, turning to me and winking.

I turned to face Carlos, my face clearly a little shocked. I could feel myself blushing, a slight heat rushing to my face. To my right I heard Lewis giggle, followed by Yuki and Alex. I saw Alex wink at me, clearly getting Carlos’ inuendo. 

Carlos nickname was Chili, a sort of joke from his childhood that had spun up into a fan favorite name used not only his entire family, but also the F1 community.  Everyone knew him as Chili; his helmet even had a red chili pepper on it. 

If the journalist also got the joke, he didn’t say anything, although he did let out a laugh. “Fair enough,” I heard him say. 

The rest of the conference went well. Fortunately, the journalists let me off with just a few more easy questions, which after Carlos slightly embarrassing response, actually felt fairly easy to answer. I guess Susie was right – Carlos was good at media, and I could use the help.

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

Lizzie met me inside of my drivers room once the press conference was over. Typically she would walk me back to the garage after the conference, but a meeting with Coco, Carlos’ manger, had distracted her. 

“Right, Georgia, time to head back to the hotel and get ready for drinks tonight,” Lizzie said, popping her head into my drivers room. Chris, my personal athletic training, just wiggled his eye brows at me and helped me off the massage table. 

“Ah yes, another date with the infamous, but devilishly handsome, Carlos Sainz,” he chimed in. I rolled my eyes at both of them. I knew Lizzie was secretly loving this. Chris, on the other hand, was openly loving this far too much. 

I grabbed the keys to my Bugatti and bag from the table and headed to the parking lot. As I was getting into my car, I saw Lando pass by, waving his hands at me. I rolled down my window and he gave me the world’s biggest high five. 

“Not the hands, Lan, gotta save those for driving tomorrow,” I quipped. 

“I don’t know, Georgia, as far as I see it, if I remove you from the grid, I get to move up a spot,” he joked.

I simply waved my hands at him and yelled, “See you tonight, loser.” 

Drinks tonight were to be at a bar fairly close by. Again, Carlos was to pick me up and drive us to the bar in his Ferrari. This time I had grumbled about why we always had to take his Ferrari, especially since I actually knew how to drive in America, but I was told to shove it and move on. Apparently no one in my all female team had wanted to hear about the sexism of a woman constantly being told she couldn’t drive to dates. Isabelle gave me a look that told me to give up, so I did. 

You win some, you lose some. 

I decided not to be late to meet Carlos this time. Truth be told, I was excited to see Charles and Lando, and figured the quicker I got there, the quicker I could start ignoring Carlos’ presence. I put on a cute top with some new jeans that Luisa, Lando’s girlfriend, had given me. 

I met Carlos again at the front of the hotel. He was wearing a nice, purple button down shirt. Of course he decided to wear my favourite colour; guess someone was listening during last night’s ‘question time’. As much as I hated to admit it, he looked really good in the purple button down and Lucky branded jeans. As I approached he looked up at me and smirked, obviously noticing me staring at him. 

Cocky bastard. Fine, Georgia 1: Carlos 1. Well, maybe .0.5  

When we arrived at the bar, I immediately ran up to Charles and gave him a big hug. My anger from Tuesday had simmered down, and we had managed to get a few more chats in throughout the last two days. Lando gave Carlos a big hug, which surprised me. I knew the two were friends since they were teammates for two years at McLaren, but I didn’t realise they were ‘hugging friends.’ Figured they were more, ‘friends because we had to be’. Plus, Lando was friends with everyone. You could give him a rock and he’d manage to make it his best friend.

“Carlos, Georgia, good to see you both,” Lando said, wiggling his eyes suggestively at the two of us. He quickly stopped when he saw both of our faces. I have no idea what expression Carlos had on his face as he looked at Lando, but I imagined it looked like mine – unimpressed and disinserted in Lando’s antics. 

Charles laughed awkwardly, ever the peacekeeper of the group. As the teammate to Carlos and my twin brother, I have no doubt that he wanted to play the situation very delicately. The four of us took a seat at the table, Carlos and I sitting together with Lando and Charles across from us. 

“So, how is the car feeling for tomorrow, Lando?” I asked. 

“Breaks are going to be rough with the heat, but we’re hoping for some kind of breakthrough,” he replied, a tint of sadness in his voice. Lando loved McLaren, but the car they had given him just wasn’t up to his ability – at least not yet, as he would say. 

I nodded. “It’s going to be willfully hot this weekend, not looking forward to it. Whoever thought racing in Miami in May was a good idea should be fired.” Lando and Charles chuckled. I supposed Carlos was more used to the heat, having grown up in the warmth of Spain. At least, he never seemed concerned about it. 

As we chatted some more, a group of guys came up to us and asked for a photo. Here it was – our big moment as a small group. Needless to say, these kinds of photos always made it across social media. By tomorrow, everyone who was interested would have a photo of the four of us at this bar. 

We scrunched together and before I could protest, Carlos had his hand on my waist, pulling me ever so slightly to him so I leaned into him for the photo. Before I had time to react, I smiled for the photo, remembering where we were and why we were doing this. I felt flustered all of a sudden. On one hand, Carlos fucking Sainz had touched me and I was annoyed, but on the other hand, Carlos Sainz had touched me – and in a way that I hadn’t been touched in a long time. His movements were soft and sweet. I hated to admit it to myself, but it felt nice. As the group thanked us, I noticed several other people around us sneaking photos of our group. I guess after the commotion of the first photo, people had started to notice us. Carlos let his hand slip from my waist, but kept it on my back, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. Not enough to where it was super noticeable, but enough where with all these photos of us, someone would capture the moment. 

I can see why they paired me with him. Without even saying a word, Carlos was a master at manipulating both the fans and the media. While those absolutely closest to us, like Lando, Charles and Danny, knew this was a farce, to the rest of the world, we were this close group of friends – with some of us becoming closer than others. 

“Peaches? …Earth to Georgia?” I all of a sudden snapped out of my thoughts and turned towards Charles, who was looking at me. “Want another beverage?”

“No, thanks, I’m good. I already broke my no alcohol rule twice this week – no need to push it before Free Practice tomorrow.” 

“Always focused on racing – do you ever relax?” mused Carlos.

“Yes, after I win,” I quipped back. He scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance at that comment, but let it go. 

The boys each got one more beer, and then we closed the tab. We continued to chat a bit more about our cars and the track, keeping it light and easy. Lando, Charles, and Carlos discussed a bit of golfing that they had done earlier in the week. Once the beers were drunk, we all got up and Carlos and I head back to his Ferrari. I hugged Lando and Charles good-bye and wished them both luck tomorrow, as it would be unlikely I’d see either of them before the Free Practices sessions. 

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, but at this point, all of our rides together were quiet. 

“Here’s an interesting question,” I said, breaking the silence and pulling out the piece of paper Lizzie had given me earlier in the day. “Who is the most important person in your life?” There was an awkward silence. Perhaps I had asked a question too personal, but Carlos didn’t strike me as someone who much cared about that kind of stuff. 

“My father,” he said suddenly. I motioned for him to continue, but he didn’t, so I just nodded. I understood that. I came from a very close family, and before our father had died, he was my #1 supporter. 

“I guess I would have said the same when our father was here,” I said with a gentle sigh. “Currently its all of my brothers; my family is the best thing to happen to me.” 

Carlos took a moment, as if he was thinking about my answer. “Surprised you didn’t just say Charles; you two are always joined at the hip,” he sneered. I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I just scoffed. 

“I love all my brothers equally,” I snipped back. Asshole.

“Of course you do,” I heard him whisper under his breath. As much as I wanted to say something, I thought against it and let us continue the rest of the ride in miserable silence. 

Friday – Miami GP

The weather on Friday wasn’t quite so brutal, quite being the operative word here. The weather was rough, but the clouds had given us some shelter. When I arrived at the track, the paddock was buzzing with excitement. There were cameras and fans and media everywhere. I waved to a few of the cameras, but made a b-line to my garage as quickly as I could. 

As I entered the garage, I stepped into my drivers room, only to see Lily, Chris and Lizzie all circled around Lizzie’s phone. 

“And to what do I owe this honour?” I asked. 

Lily’s squealed a bit, clearly eager to tell me what was going on. “Your little stunt worked – look at these photos of you and Carlos!” I hobbled over to the desk where they were all huddled and took a look. There we were – Carlos and I at the restaurant – both drinking our wine and staring into each others eyes. I knew that couple next to us were taking photos of us, I thought to myself. As I scrolled down the Instagram feed, I saw countless photos of me and Carlos – both at the restaurant and then at the bar from last night, including photos his arm around my waist and on my back. Such little touches that meant so much to everyone. 

“Looks like your little plan is working,” Chris chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “The fans seem to love the two of you.” I rolled my eyes. Of course they did.

“Oh, look at this one! The dinner date looks so romantic,” Lily said, sighing a little, as if she was jealous of this ridiculous conspiracy I was now apart of. “It even says you’ve been dating for weeks – now that speaks to your chemistry.” She winked at me, clearly aware of how much she was getting under my skin.  

“Did you happen to ask him any of the questions I wrote out for you?” Lizzie asked, eager to see if her plan for us to get to know each other was working. I just nodded, attempting to make it clear that I had no more interest in discussing this. 

“Annnddddd…?” Chris looked at me, clearly wanting to know more about this new, mysterious boyfriend that had been thrust upon me. 

“I learned he likes the color red,” I responded simply. 

“Good thing I put you in that red dress then,” Lizzie said winking. With that, she, Lily and Chris burst out laughing. “He must have thought he had died and gone to heaven!” 

“I doubt it,” I quipped back. Little did they know. Carlos probably thought the red represented the hell he was also in. 

“Now if you don’t mi-“ I began, but before I could continue, Chris pulled up a new Instagram post. 

“Now look at this one!” I motioned for Chris to read it for me. I think I had seen enough social media for one morning. 

“It says ‘Rumour has it Georgia Leclerc has moved on with a new driver in the paddock – Carlos Sainz. Sources tell us that rumoured ex-boyfriend Pierre Gasly is fuming at the match.’” At that, I rolled my eyes and let out the biggest groan I had ever heard myself utter. Apparently I had better luck getting fake boyfriends than I did real ones, since I’d managed to snag two fake ones in just a couple of days vs. my one actual real one I had when I was in America. 

“I am sure Pierre will love that,” I said sarcastically. For years the media and fans had speculated that Pierre and I were dating. Sure, he was flirty and handsy and we were close enough to where it might look less than platonic, but the truth was, Pierre was my brother’s best friend – and Charles had made it very clear we were both off limits to each other, something we decided to respect. 

“Well, I am glad your little publicity stunt is working, but I must be off to get ready for Free Practice.” Lily announced, getting up from her seat and giving me a small hug. “Good luck out there!” I nodded and gave her a hug back. 

Free Practice Sessions 1 and 2 went okay. I came P3 in both, which, considering the heat and issue with my front wing in the second practice, I figured was okay. I was annoyed that both Max and Charles had beaten me… but at least I had beaten Carlos, who had come in P4 and P6 respectively. 

After the sessions were over and I had properly reviewed the data with my race engineer and Susie Wolff, I caught the eye of Lizzie, who was motioning for me to come over. I knew what she wanted – it was time to stir the rumour mill and give the fans a little something extra. 

It was time for the dreaded garage visit.  Garage visit #1. If I didn’t die during this visit, I was to be sequestered to a second visit tomorrow. Just lovely. 

@ferrarifwendvale @ihearttheoriginals @lightsoutpierre @starxqt @internetgremlin @ashf1 @lovingroscoee @ccloaned@xheera @markluv4u @kashee-h @questionslostinmoments @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @questionslostinmoments@jpotterdilf @oyesmendes @groovy-slytherin  @hnmaga-blog @zoobabystation  @opfire  

[livealittleoc-cb]

Chan: [ massacre ] my muse is the sole survivor of an assassination placed on their family and is taken in by your muse. 👀 @monsterhigh-cb

When Leo was told he was supposed to take someone from an allied mafia group he wasn't expecting it to be one of the softest boys he's met. Leo was known as the tough one in his group, the lead in his group and well respected among the whole entire mafia.

When he was assigned to take in someone from a friendly mafia he was expecting some big tough person with years evident on his face. Not a prissy prince.

The first day he met him he was cold and closed off towards the boy. He looked him over with judgement as he looked at his boss and shook his head. "I'm not taking care of him."

"You have to. His group has helped us a lot and hearing about his family's assassination is awful. I was close friends with his father." Leo was about to protest until his boss held his hand up. "You. Are. Taking care of him." He said looking at Leo with a warning look. He balled his fist before nodding. He signaled Chan to walk.

"Come on." He muttered as Chan quietly nodded and followed Leo to his car. A couple minutes into the drive to Leo's place, his bags in the trunk and the silence suffocating, Chan spoke.

"I'm sorry..." Chan said softly under his breath looking down at his fingers. Leo's gripped tightened on the wheel before he sighed his face softening.

"It's fine, dont apolagize. I should be saying sorry, you went through something traumatic and I've been being an asshole." He said glancing at the shorter man who just nodded.

After a couple of months that passed by Leo had grown to like Chan. It took him a while to get used to sharing his space with another person but it worked out in the end and he had to admit he was starting to fall for the man.

He had a day off and was in his living room drinking his normal non sweetened coffee while Chan did his own thing. What he wasn't expecting was Chan to walk in with a tray of Brandy laced cookies and smiling softly and sweetly at him. "There's are a thank you gift. I know you like alcohol so I made you these." He said softly and shyly handing the plate to him.

Leo blinked slowly as he looked at the plate before looking at Chan and not being able to control his actions. He pulled the shorter man into a kiss, said man shocked before softly kissing back. Leo pulled away before a grin pulled on his face. "I'm so glad I took this mission~" Before taking a bit of one of the cookies happily.

[causalitylinked]

REASONS OTHER PEOPLE MIGHT FALL FOR KOBATO.

He actually cares. Sure, Kobato might not always do the right thing, but he does worry about others and is the sort of friend who would find you and drive you home should you get lost. He’ll also offer to buy you food, especially if you happen to be younger/an underclassman of his or a cute girl.

Will whisper sweet nothings to you and unlike most Japanese men, has no trouble saying ‘I love you’. Of course, this only applies to female aligned muses, because again, he’s very obnoxiously hetero, even in The Caligula Effect 2.

Doesn’t discriminate. Seriously, Kobato doesn’t give a shit if someone is a man or a woman, because if they’re an asshole, they’re an asshole. Honestly, he would even hit a girl should they... like, not back off or are causing real, actual harm to someone he is friends with.

Not a guy who subscribes to toxic masculinity, even if he does like to tease Ryuto for liking sweets so much despite being very mature for his age. Why, he doesn’t actually repress his emotions and will even cry/let himself be vulnerable around you, which happens to be rare, because it’s actually quite common for Japanese men to be more emotionally inhibited and find discomfort in expressing their emotions through words.

Will be transparent with you and will tell you things exactly how it is. Like, while the rest of the Go-Home Club members had been hesitant to tell Marie about what they found out about her, Kobato had no qualms telling her she was actually a paraplegic in real life and that if she ever returned back to reality, she will have a shorter life expectancy compared to the average person and will live out the rest of her life, confined to a hospital bed, because she can’t move a single muscle and Redo, the world they were all stuck in, was basically supposed to be her safe haven from all that. But yeah, even if it’s painful, he won’t bother withholding information from you, especially should it concern you in particular.

In his Post-TCE2 verse, he’s really trying his best to be a function-able adult despite having apathy and just lacking passion when it comes to a lot of things. Honestly, driving might be something that he doesn’t find annoying (like manual labour), but it’s nothing he’s particularly passionate about to the point where he would be devastated he can no longer do it anymore, so he won’t be able to relate to, say... Sonia Nevermind’s love for the occult. Like, he doesn’t mind driving and is even used to doing it, but I feel as if ‘enjoy’ would be too strong a word, due to the fact his apathy prevents him from feeling much happiness/interest in things that don’t revolve around the opposite sex. Why, Kobato doesn’t even choose his clothes or appearance based on his own personal aesthetic anymore but what he thinks girls actually like, so despite being someone who is unable to derive meaning from living for himself rather than for others, he still chooses to cling onto life, no matter how empty he feels on the inside... so for as pathetic as he is, he still chooses to move on and exist rather than continue to mope about things he can no longer control.

When it comes to any interests other girls might have, he can be open-minded. Like, if you’re into, say... a video game, he would probably start playing it, because he wants to be able to relate to you and get closer to you. Granted, it’s not like Kobato wouldn’t have ulterior motives by doing so, but he really does try his best to the kind of guy any girl would like.

[skysnipsw]

*    knowing  your  partner  well  can  potentially  make  writing  a  lot  easier,    repost,    do  not  reblog.

NAME: Ana Lee    PRONOUNS:   she / her. PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord honestly. You can hit me up on Tumblr IMs but I REALLY prefer discord cause Tumblr IM system is a mess and I lose messages in it often, so if we’re mutuals, feel free to ask for my discord if you want!    NAME OF MUSE(s): Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano      EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?):  I got over ten years of experience I think? I started rp’ing on 2010 with a group of friends in ask.fm and ever since then I continued over multiple platforms until I got to Tumblr in 2018 with a Ghost Trick muse blog.  BEST EXPERIENCE:  I guess my best experience was with a group of friends back in 2019/20 on my Ghost Trick blog, I met some AMAZING people such as @smugglindean / @rogerrogerbattledroids and such, I really miss some folks from there tbh, we had a real blast and I met some amazing friends there. RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS:  People who don’t read our rules/about pages. This really gets on my nerves cause it’s the minimal you have to do if you wanna interact with someone is know their muses and their limitations/what they’re okay writing and such. I also don’t like people who are constantly pushing you to reply, like, I get that a reminder is nice sometimes cause Tumblr messes up notifications ALL THE TIME and we may miss a reply or two, but don’t do it constantly, it feels like pressuring us to write and writing/rping is supposed to be a fun hobby, not a job. MUSE PREFERENCES FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:  Fluff and Angst are big YES!!! I loooove writing those, but especially ANGST, I live for causing pain to my characters skhsdkdh but ofc I also love writing fluff from time to time. SMUT IS A BIG NO and that’s because I’m asexual and sex repulsed. While I can write spicier scenes that leads to the sexual act such as undressing, heavy kissing, make out, foreplay etc, I will NEVER EVER write anything too EXPLICIT on the details. I only write sex scenes if they are kept VERY VERY VAGUE (like, it’s implied what they’re doing) but never in extreme details, it disgusts me to no end, ewww just please NO.  PLOTS OR MEMES:  Both? Both. Both. Both is good.  LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Both I guess. Depends on the thread. Shorter replies are more for dash commentaries/crack or shorter interactions while for real threads, medium to long. I will never expect my partner to match my lenght but I at least want you to be sensible about it and give me something I can work with.     BEST TIME TO WRITE:  I guess afternoon/night. My timezone is GMT -3 hours as I live in Brazil. ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Absolutely not! They’re very different from me (ESPECIALLY ANAKIN) but I guess Ahsoka is closer to me, but not really much.    Stolen from:  @sxperflxity Tagging: @stars33ker @thelightsabcr and honestly I suck at tagging people but if you saw this and wanna do this, be my guest!

[not-bcring]

"Hmm..." Sayaka muses, tilting her head in a practiced show of thought as she runs a hand through Chihiro's hair.

"I think your hair is too short for pigtails or a high ponytail, but I could braid the bangs off to the side or maybe curl the ends! And since you're shorter than me, I could loan you some miniskirts and they'd probably land a little lower on your legs than mine. I also have lots of colorful sparkly makeup if you wanna try that!"

She claps her hands together, grinning.

"Ooh, I can't wait! We're gonna make you look even more adorable!!"

-   ✩   「   @honeydewmuses​   」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   Chihiro was never too comfortable hanging around with girls. She always felt like an intruder amongst them. As if they could see right through her disguise to the secrets held beneath. No matter how nice they were, how often they smiled or tried to include her in their fun, she always felt like they were tricking her in some way. Pretending to want her around, but hoping that she’d decline. Too nice to ignore her, but too smart to believe she belonged with them. So, Chihiro would take the safest route. Keeping to herself, occasionally hanging around guys when the loneliness became too loud to ignore. True, guys were scary in a different way and being near them didn’t always turn out well…

Frankly, she felt like an outsider among them too. Like they were only accepting her because of what they wanted her to be, and would be disappointed if she wasn’t. Skeptical around girls, intimidated by guys, Chihiro used to wonder if she was simply meant to feel this way. If she was too broken to belong anywhere. How hard is it supposed to be— to simply exist?

Things are getting better now. Slowly but surely, she’s come to trust in the friends she’s made. Even if it’s only happenstance, a group of people shoved together in a room. Her class can be loud and overwhelming, but she’s also seen them be compassionate and gentle. She’s had kindness aimed toward her time and time again, without anything expected in return. With their help, their patience, she’s even started timidly branching out to people outside of the bubble of safety that is her class. She still doesn’t feel completely comfortable in who she is, but… right now it’s okay. Because Sayaka likes her. And her class likes her.

Even other people, those who aren’t as obligated to, like her too… and she likes them. Chihiro may even like someone a bit more than she should. But she can hardly help it. Standing before Sayaka, breath hitching instinctively when a hand moves towards her, body tensing as she holds her breath before slowly relaxing it in a long exhale, Chihiro’s stomach flutters at the mere thought of how they might react to her new look. Hands clasped in front of herself, wide eyes follow Sayaka’s hand as best she can as careful fingers run through her soft hair, before focusing back on her friend’s excited expression. She’s so happy. So eager to help.

Honestly? Chihiro feels her own excitement growing, the tightness in her chest loosening as she beams a grateful smile.  ❝  Really? That sounds wonderful!  ❞  Big eyes bright as honey, cheeks grow rosier with each awestruck word,  ❝  You’re so beautiful Sayaka, if you could make me look even a fraction as amazing as you do— Well, I’d owe you for the rest of my life!  ❞  Chihiro laughs, only partially-joking. At the very least, she already wants to do something nice to thank Sayaka for helping her explore a new look. And she hasn’t even had the makeover yet.

❝  Honestly? I don’t have much experience with things like make-up and fancy hairstyles and eye-catching clothes…  ❞  Chihiro sheepishly admits, averting her gaze and twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Lightly fidgeting in place, words softly fall to the ground, ❝ I’m not good at— this. ❞ Free hand awkwardly motions around, Chihiro wincing at her clumsy admission, ❝ At drawing attention to myself when I actually want to. Usually, I don’t want to… But- I think maybe, at least just once, I’d like to… to be- … pretty. ❞

Arms crossing, she timidly shrinks in on herself, ❝ Pretty the way girls like you are pretty. Maybe even… enough to make people notice. ❞ Cheeks grow hot, Chihiro hoping she doesn’t come across as conceited or naïve when she says, ❝ I get told I’m cute all the time. And- I don’t mind it… Usually. But, I’m- … It’s the way bunnies are cute. I’m something small and weak and people like that they can protect me or hurt me depending on what they want. They want what they can DO to me…. But for once, I’d like it if— if…. ❞ Wincing, Chihiro closes her eyes, second-guessing her choice of words. Is she even making any sense?

❝ I’d like it if… someone could just- want me. ❞ Peeking up at Sayaka, brown skirt is held in a pale-knuckled grip, ❝ Do you think- you could make me cute enough to kiss, instead of just cute enough to control? ❞

❝ Please? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[hiyorisarugaki]

📰 [[ he didn't want me to send this but I'm ignoring him ]]

What is theirname?:  Kisuke, dumbass Taichou,THAT IDIOT, SNEAKYASS SNEAKRelationship with them?: Hate hate HATE this baldy!! I really didn’t like him prancing aroundHikifune-Taichou’s division. Coming in and changing EVERYTHING about the placeI… fuck! He was a captain but didn’t even act like one. He didn’t even know what he wanted when he came there. And then, ‘ta top it alloff, he decided ‘ta go back ‘ta his old prison guard days and released someloonies from the loony bin he used ‘ta guard. YEAH I’M FUCKIN’ TALKIN’ ABOUTMAYURI! That sociopath djkgdj!! GAAH! But I’ll say this… actually, no. Whyshould I say this? Why did he even allow himself ‘ta get punched? Why bother ‘taeven pretend ‘ta care for me? He didn’t. I know he didn’t. He hated me too.That’s what I always wanted… ‘ta think. Him and Mayuri, cookin’ up randomscientific experiments, trickin’ me into helping them write all their long-assreports… running the fuckin’ division and approving budgets for their insanity.The amount of times I tried ‘ta resign and he just- wouldn’t have it. Sometimes…I thought if I could just go back ‘ta Hikifune-Taichou, it would be easy ‘taleave. But… she never wrote—ugh. Well, it was, as ya can say, the worst time inmy life. I was determined ‘ta shut everyone out. And Kisuke too.Except… he wouldn’t STAY THE FUCK OUTTA MY SPACE!! He was determined ‘tapretend I was still useful ‘ta him, even though… I knew that whether I wasthere or not, it made no difference. He had his genius boy Mayuri and even the wholefuckin’ squad helping him. He won everyone over with his charming, humblecaptain act. Like oh-eheheh-i-don’t-know-how-the-fuck-I-got-chosen-for-this-honour-golly-me!!And people fuckin’ BOUGHT it! But I know he’s not all he says he was. Hisfighting was fuckin’ TOP NOTCH. Hand-to-hand, he was amazing at, but he neverboasted about it. Kenpachi swaggered around like he was a the big cheese, but Kisukewas happy ‘ta plod along, not tryin’a cause any fights.I hate… hate people… that are fake. I hate his fakeass smile. His fakeass concernwhen I came back late from missions or when I didn’t share my theories. I hated…I hated him pretendin’ ta care. He don’t care. Not the way Hikifune-Taichoudid. I made him as miserable as possible in the first year. I knew he’d get tiredof me. He won’t accept resignation- he could just chuck me out himself. I…really didn’t care at that point. About my rank, about how he viewed me… I justwanted my old Taichou.And then… I s’pose… one day I woke up not hating him as much as usual. I did ashe asked without arguing nineteen times. I… even made him lunch. He never ate properly.He was always smelly and sleep-deprived. So… I rolled him back ‘ta his quartersthat night and didn’t wake him up. I… ain’t singing his praises or nothing… butI s’pose I was tired of arguing. And I’d given up on Hikifune-Taichou comingback ‘ta whisk me away. Guess she didn’t really care as much as I thought. And…it hurt but I got over it. I wasn’t a baby. It ain’t like she was my mother.She owed me nothing.And neither did Kisuke. He wasn’t my friend. He didn’t owe me anything.Except… he came back for some insignificant and shitty person like me.Why the fuck… did he do that?What do you view them as? (family,friend,other): Biggest dumbass I ever met. He’s always gonna be my dumbass Taichou. Nobodyelse would do now.And I’m always gonna keep owing him my life ‘ta him.Do you feel attracted to them in any way?:  FUCKNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!And that fuckin’ crush that people imagined I had- that was all it was!An imaginary crush! I ain’t tryin’a impress him and his dopey-ass smile. Likesome big dumb dog that was always happy ‘ta see me? Who… who the fuck thinkstheir heart would race at that?! NOT ME! HE IS AN IDIOT AND I HATE HIM! I WILLNEVER BE ATTRACTED ‘TA HIM. EVER EVER EVER!What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?:  I would like ‘ta take his stupid shoes and beat him with them - -but I ain’tgonna do that.I suppose… shake him violently. Tell him he’s fuckin’ good enough for aprincess. EVEN BETTER!Why the fuck does Kisuke think he’s somehow less than her? Why…?! Like… he’sfucking clever and good-looking and amazing. He can keep people engaged withoutever trying! He could protect anyone. He doesn’t need a shitty ass title. Hedon’t have ‘ta be given nobility status by anyone in shitty Soul Society. He’s…already got a noble heart and that’s all that really counts.Tell us one memory you have with them.:His fuckin.. guilty eyes when I woke up in that hollow-hybrid state. Helooked so sad and so damn sorry, I couldn’t even punch his face. He was alreadyin too much pain. I dunno… I wished I’d hugged him then. I ain’t good at thatthough. Comfort. Making someone feel good. I can’t make people feel good atall. I wished I had then. I feel bad about it. I was already feeling like a pieceof shit for cutting Shinji and asked how he was. Kisuke said that everyone wasalive. Kensei, Mashiro, Love, Hachi, Lisa, Rose and… Shinji. He said he wassorry.

And I wondered then, why… someone wouldcome for their shitty lieutenant? He could’ve had a nice replacement. In fact,Mayuri was right there. Ready ‘ta fill my shoes and do an even better job…Kisuke could still be a captain.

I’m the one that was sorry.

I don’t think he understands what it’slike ‘ta have that heaviness when someone comes back for them. Like it mattered‘ta Kisuke that I lived or died. Not even Hikifune-Taichou did that. I decided I’d get Aizen for us all. For hurting us. For using us.

Anything you’d like to askthem or state to them? If so, say it now, please!:  

I got nothing ‘ta say ‘ta ya. Get bent.Except… y’know the obvious… that ya weren’t such a terrible captain. So… don’tfuckin’ beat yerself up about the actions of other people. Ya can’t controlthem.

@mysteriousshopkeeper

[hollandorks]

middle of the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter four

summary:  y/n’s life changes immensely, starting with the Batman falling out of the sky right in front of her and ending with a promising new job at Wayne Manor. As her life intertwines with that of both Batman and Bruce Wayne, she begins to figure out that there’s more to both than meets the eye. No spoilers for the Batman movie.

a/n: Listen I’ve already written almost eleven chapters of this nonsense and having a blast. So I’m keeping the momentum going and posting another chapter! I’ve been seriously having so much fun writing this. Enjoy this nice, long chapter. I thrive off reader feedback so please feel free to drop a comment, ask, or even yell in the tags if you reblog! Also let me know if you would like to be tagged in future updates. Also if you don’t see your tag and requested one, some won’t work for me! 

Series Masterlist

word count: 3374

But she couldn’t deny that she wanted, just a little bit, to solve the mystery of Bruce Wayne.

The third time y/n saw Bruce Wayne, he was standing in the center of the foyer looking absolutely bewildered. 

She had worked for him nearly two full weeks. It was a Friday. She was nearly done with the second floor and had started on the library. She wasn’t looking forward to the weekend this time, though. She’d be back at the Iceberg Lounge that night as well as the next night. But at least she had been able to deposit her first paycheck during lunch. She had a nice payment ready to take to the Penguin. 

“Mr. Wayne?” she asked softly. His head snapped up. Of all things he was…blushing? Today he was dressed in a smart suit that was tailored to his tall frame. He looked…good. More than good. Now she was the one blushing. 

“Good mo–afternoon, y/n.” 

She blinked. She hadn’t realized he knew her name. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Wayne?” 

“Bruce, please.” He gave a twitch of the lips that she thought was meant to be a smile. “I–no. I was just admiring the flowers. I’m on my way to a meeting.” 

Her cheeks heated in earnest now. She had placed a fresh bouquet of flowers–purchased on the way back from the bank on her lunch break–and arranged them on a table centered in the foyer. The manor was in desperate need of light and color. 

“They look nice,” he continued softly. He lightly touched one of the flowers with a fingertip. He shifted almost awkwardly under her scrutiny. He put a pair of sunglasses on. “Have a good night.” 

And then he was gone again. 

For someone so reclusive, he sure didn’t seem to be home a lot, y/n mused. 

As she got ready for work at the club later that evening, she made sure to tuck the envelope of cash into her bra where it would be safest. She put on makeup, her own version of armor, and made sure her hair was done just so. The Penguin wasn’t hands on with his employees, but he did expect a certain level of excellence from everyone. And it started with looks. Her button up shirt was tight with a couple of buttons undone, her black skirt shorter than she would have liked. And her uniform–and those of the other waitresses and bartenders– was a lot more modest than those of any dancers, performers, and everyone who worked in the VIP club downstairs. 

She took a taxi from the gates of Wayne Manor to the nearest subway station and rode from there to the Iceberg Lounge. She tried her best to ignore the catcalls her work uniform garnered as she rode. She was used to it. 

After being let in the back door of the club by one of the bouncers, she was escorted straight to the Penguin. 

He lounged on a cushy sofa in his office. There were glass windows that muffled the noise of the music and overlooked the club below. The scars on his face were thrown into sharp relief with every flash of the lights. 

She held out the envelope. “This month’s payment, plus three percent interest.” 

The Penguin counted it quickly, then sat back as if he had absolutely no care in the world. She supposed he didn’t. Not when people like her brought people like him envelopes of cash to keep themselves alive. 

“Bruce Wayne’s paying you good to keep his bed warm then, eh sweetheart?” He chuckled, and the peanut gallery of thugs around him chuckled right along with him. Including the asshole who’d bruised her cheek a few weeks ago. “No matter, long as I get my money back some way or another. Get to work. You’re at the bar with Jack tonight.” 

“Yes sir,” she said through clenched teeth. She hoped the hate didn’t show on her face. She wanted to hit him. She wished she were someone like Batman, able to take care of herself and hurt men like the Penguin. Men who deserved it.  

But all she did was smile pretty and get to work. 

Her shift passed achingly slowly. As she worked she wondered if the regular patrons were spreading rumors about her. Were they whispering that men who touched her got punched in the face? Or were they whispering that she was Bruce Wayne’s whore? She wondered if any of the goons upstairs had started whispers about her new job. 

She felt eyes on her, all around her, their gazes heavy and unsettling as she cleaned a glass. She imagined she heard them whispering. If Bruce Wayne paid her, what could they get her to do for money? The people who frequented this club were not good people, no matter what jobs they held during the day. Police. Lawyer. Councilman. Doctor. Politician. In this club, they were all the same. They were all men who thought they were owed certain things. Things they paid men like the Penguin to give them. 

The glass in her hands shattered. 

With a muffled curse she bent to clean it up. A thin slice opened on her palm and began to sting from the residual alcohol. A drop of blood beaded on the wound and shone red in the strobing lights of the club. 

“Clumsy girl,” a man drawled from the bar. “Though I can’t say I mind the view.” 

She could feel his hungry gaze on her backside. It felt like hot grease on her skin, slipping and sliding and burning her. The club went quiet, drowned out by the rush of her own rage in her ears. 

When she straightened, bloodied palm clenched in her good hand, she realized that the club around her had actually gone quiet. As quiet as it could get with blaring music. 

On the steps leading up to the Penguin’s office was the Batman. 

She blinked furiously. Strobe lights flashed red and white and red again. She saw snapshots of him moving, throwing a punch, catching a blow on his forearm. It was like watching a stop motion movie. Like watching flashes of a dream. Penguin’s bodyguards were stopping him from pushing his way up the stairs to the office.

He was here, in the Iceberg Lounge. 

In the next flash, the Penguin was there. He was smiling. They exchanged words. Or maybe Penguin spoke while Batman listened. 

Within a minute, Batman was following him up to his office. 

What could Batman possibly be doing here? 

“Now that’s something you don’t see everyday,” the same sleazebag slurred. He smiled up at her from where he drooped over the bar. He had thick eyebrows and a receding hairline. “Reckon he’s coming to buy something?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

Y/n scoffed. “I doubt it. He’s probably threatening my boss.” She hated calling him that, “her boss.” But here, image was everything. And words counted for that, too. She owed an extra twenty thousand for badmouthing the Penguin to one of the other girls back when she’d first been hired, after her mom died. It was one reason she was always careful here. And one reason she didn’t trust any of her fellow employees. They traded information for the Penguin’s favor, for the smallest chance of their debts being lowered, without a care for anyone else. She couldn’t blame them. If she was any more desperate, she would do the same thing. So instead she kept to herself. 

“Hey, you’re bleeding there, baby,” the man cooed. “Let me take you somewhere to patch you up.” 

She gave the man a tight smile. “No thank you.” 

She quickly finished sweeping up the glass and then called to the other bartender, Jack. She held up her bloody hand in a wave and indicated with her other hand she’d be back in five minutes. Jack, she’d learned, was just another of the Penguin’s thugs who happened to know how to make mixed drinks. He was posted at the bar as a sort of undercover bouncer. In case anything happened, he had a pistol under his suit jacket and a shotgun under the bar. And he wasn’t afraid to tattle on his coworkers either.

She shoved her way around the perimeter of the crowd towards the shitty employee bathrooms in the back. At least they were quiet. She grabbed a bandage from her bag in her employee locker and shoved the bathroom door open with her foot. 

A drop of dark red blood splashed against the dingy white sink. In the harsh fluorescents, y/n looked haggard. What was Batman doing here, of all places? She wanted to burst into Penguin’s office. Damn the consequences. She’d thought about Batman more times that she cared to admit to herself. She couldn’t get him out of her head. What was he doing here?

She cursed colorfully as she struggled to bandage the cut one-handed. 

The door banged open behind her.

“Occupied, asshole!” she shouted over the music that came blaring through the open door. . 

Batman appeared as a dark shadow against the single bright white light above them. 

It was as if her thoughts had summoned him.

She hated that her heart stuttered the way it did. 

“What are you–what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be back here.” 

“I could ask you the same thing, y/n,” he said in a low growl. She closed her eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over her. “You work here?”

“You remember me?” she asked. 

“Of course I remember you.” He slid his gauntlets off and took the bandage from her. “Did someone do this to you?” 

Had someone slipped her something? Why did it feel like a hallucination every time she saw him? The sheer darkness of him, made of shadows, clashed with the brilliance of the fluorescents.

He took her injured hand in both of his. His skin was warm, almost hot. Electricity zinged up and down her arm from the connection of skin on skin. His fingers were rough with callouses but gentle as he fixed the bandage over her torn skin. 

She realized he’d asked a question. “I broke a glass.” Dazed, she watched his long fingers deftly patch her up. “Is this a dream? Is a vigilante really putting a bandaid on me right now?” 

A corner of his lips turned up in a half smile that was gone in the blink of an eye. 

“I recognized you,” he said quietly. He stepped back from her, which wasn’t far in the small bathroom. “I needed to ask if you knew anything about the women who’ve been disappearing.” 

She blinked. “What?” she said stupidly. “What women?” 

“Three women have disappeared in the past month. Only one body has been found. They all worked here.” 

Y/n slumped against the dirty tile wall. “Three?” she echoed. Her eyes traced the line of his jaw of their own accord. She watched, enraptured, as he put his gloves and gauntlets back on. “I don’t–I didn’t know anything about that. Is that why you’re here? Questioning the Penguin?” 

“Yes. He swears he knows nothing. Asked why he would waste a valuable resource.” 

Her skin crawled at the word. Resource. Not employees. No care at all for the women they were–the women they’d been. Gotham had a bad habit of chewing up women and spitting them back out dead while men like the Penguin looked the other way. 

“The Penguin’s a piece of shit,” she spat, “but he’s got a point. He values his employees for what they can bring him. And if I didn’t know them or about their disappearances…” She hesitated. She could get in a lot of trouble if Penguin knew she was telling him anything at all. Trouble that got girls killed. But this was Batman. He wanted to help. He would help. “That means they worked downstairs. There’s…that’s where…worse things happen.” 

Batman studied her without expression. 

She shouldn’t say anything else. He could figure it out from there. “I have to get back to work. See you around.” 

He moved out of the way as she opened the door. She stepped past him. Close. Too close. 

She quickly made sure no one else was around before hustling back to the bar. 

The creep from earlier was gone now, thank God, but there was an end of the night rush to contend with. Everyone wanted one last drink before the upstairs bar closed. A couple of patrons were shown downstairs while everyone else had to clear out. Y/n’s gaze skipped past them with well-practiced ease. She was used to ignoring faces here. If she recognized anyone, if she ever tried to tie them to this place, she would be one of the women who disappeared.

God, three women had disappeared? There had been no indication that something sinister was happening downstairs. At least, anything more sinister than usual. Something bad was happening downstairs if three women had already disappeared. Y/n had heard about the sort of things that happened down there. The sort of men that frequented the space. The meetings that happened between them. The expectations of the women–and few men–that worked there every night. 

As she fielded orders and mixed and poured drinks, she found herself watching every shadow for a sign of Batman. She knew he was long gone by now. But she hoped for one more glimpse of him. Just one. At least someone was looking for those women. 

Finally, finally, last call was over and she cleaned up while Jack cashed out the register. All of her tips went to the Penguin, of course. But she wasn’t totally sure they went towards her debts. She was afraid to ask, in case they didn’t. 

It hit her then, fully hit her, that those were problems of the past. Just one paycheck signed by Bruce Wayne had already made such a huge difference in her life. Exhausted tears pricked her eyes. She only had to do one more night of this for the next week, instead of five more nights. 

She leaned heavily against the storeroom shelves for a minute, letting that sink in. 

She finished restocking the bar feeling lighter than she had in years. 

As y/n changed and gathered her things from her locker, her thoughts turned to her encounter with Batman. The feeling of his bare hands on hers. The intensity that emanated from him. His quiet, deep voice. She hoped she saw him again. 

Her thoughts were still wrapped up in her encounter with Batman as she stepped into the back alley. The bouncer at the back door nodded at her from his post right inside the door. He held his phone in one hand and a small cup of coffee in the other. 

Cool air wrapped around her shoulders. The air was as fresh as it got inside of city limits. A hint of autumn came with the breeze. Y/n paused and inhaled deeply. She loved this moment every time she left the Iceberg Lounge. The moment she could shake off the night, forget for a little while that she worked there and why. 

Someone roughly grabbed her wrist. 

“There you are, baby,” a voice said. “I’ve been waiting half the night out here for you.” 

It was the man from earlier. The one who’d had such a good time watching her clean up broken glass. Y/n tried to yank her arm out of his grip. He held on tighter. It seemed as if he’d sobered up quite a bit while he’d been waiting. The bones in her wrist ground together painfully. 

“Let me go,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. She moved her other hand slowly around to where the taser waited in her back pocket. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. I heard about your little deal with Bruce Wayne.” So fast she couldn’t act, he grabbed her other wrist. “How much does he pay you for a night? I promise I can compensate you for your time.” 

“I’m not for sale, asshole,” she spat in his face. Fear wrapped ice cold tendrils around her heart. She could barely breathe. She’d heard of stuff like this happening outside of this club, but she’d always been so careful. She should have kept her taser in her hand. Kept her gun at her side. She should have punched the asshole at the bar earlier and dealt with the consequences later. “If you want to buy someone, you have to be invited downstairs! Now let me go.” 

The man growled and shoved her roughly against the bricks. Pain exploded from the back of her head where it collided with the wall. He still held fast to her wrists. “You bitch,” he practically crooned. His lips nuzzled against her ear. She wanted to vomit. To scream. But this was Gotham. No one came running when someone yelled for help. She had to get free. Had to get to her taser. Had to, before it was too late. Before–before–she couldn’t finish the thought. “Fine. Don’t accept my generous offer. Besides, what’s the saying? Why buy what you can take for free?” 

He kissed her full on the mouth just as she tried to scream. He bit her lip, hard, and coppery blood filled her mouth. She thrashed against him. She could feel him pressed against her. Her struggling was making him more excited. He liked feeling powerful. 

One of his hands finally gave up one of hers to paw at her chest. She reared back and headbutted him, then made a grab for the taser while he howled in pain and called her every dirty curse word he could think of. 

Right as her taser lit up the flesh on the inside of his thigh, he was yanked roughly off of his feet from behind. 

Batman’s fist connected with the man’s face once. Twice. Three times. Four. 

“You couldn’t have stepped in sooner?” she shouted at the Batman as he tossed the now-unconscious man to the ground. “You fucking–he could have–he–” 

Batman turned to face her. Her words stuttered to an abrupt halt. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. His jaw was clenched so tight she was surprised it didn’t shatter. “I couldn’t tell from my vantage point that anything was wrong at first. I saw him waiting out here, but–” 

She shoved both of her hands into his chest. “You asshole!” He didn’t budge in the slightest. All at once the fight left her. She wiped furiously at her neck where the man’s disgusting lips had touched her. She needed a shower. Or some bleach. Or bleach and then a shower. She spit out a mouthful of blood. She may or may not have aimed it at the man on the ground. Then she aimed a vicious kick at his side. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman said again in his low growl of a voice. “Although I am impressed with how you handled yourself.” 

She huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well. It’s Gotham. People who don’t at least have pepper spray are idiots. Especially because you can’t be everywhere at once.” Did she imagine it, or did something like hurt pass over what she could see of his face? Backtracking, she quickly added, “Thank you. By the way. Feel free to hit him a few more times if you want. And thanks for patching me up earlier.” 

He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re welcome,” he finally said. 

“I should let you get back to…crime fighting. I have to get home.” She didn’t want to leave, but she was starting to feel this long night in her bones. She wanted to sleep all day, sleep until her next shift. She wanted to quit this job. She tried to hide the shaking of her hands by clenching them into fists. 

“Be careful, y/n,” he said. 

“I will.” She pressed the button on the taser for emphasis and watched its satisfying zap. She thought she caught the ghost of a smile before he disappeared into the shadows at the end of the alley. 

She didn’t notice his shadow following her to the subway station, making sure she arrived safely.

Next Chapter

taglist: 

@pop-rocks-and-skittles @calumspupils @n1ght5h4d3-24 @keepingitlokiii @11mb0 @illicitghosts @passionandpeaches @cat-purrsonified @blue-aconite @junggoku @ohheyitsrowan @angxlictexrs @glowexe @f10pc @avengersgirllorianna​ @brynhildrmimi​ @fictional-hooman @twilightdollie​ @p-writes​ 

[ponzu369]

NCT FANFIC Recommendations

these are some of my fav fics, I like pretty long fics so sorry if you were looking for shorter ones~ all of these are on ao3, click on the titles for link

renmin

To Split a Soul - strawberrysummers

Na Jaemin only meets Huang Renjun in the night, sitting near a stream where the wind whispers strange stories and moonlight flickers on the water's surface. Renjun, who sits there every night waiting for someone who never comes, let's Jaemin fill in his gap. And Jaemin, who escapes there from his nightmares, lets Renjun break down his walls. Or: Jaemin has a fear of water. Yet Renjun spends all of his time near it. words: 67,441

A Siren's Song, A Sellsword's Salvation - strawberrysummers (incomplete)

They say that when a Siren falls in love, they become mortal once more, and only then can they be killed. In this case, Na Jaemin, the moralless mercenary from Dasne Kingdom, plans to do just that: kill the famed Siren. What he hadn't expected to find though, was a boy with a smile a little too bright, eyes too pretty, and words a little too sweet: Renjun. OR: Renjun is a Siren, destined to lure wanderers to their deaths with just a kiss. And Na Jaemin has a kill order out for said Siren. words: 50,883 | chap: 3/6

noren

blood bond - dancingrat

Renjun didn't let many know he was half-human. It would have been social, if not actual, suicide in a school of witches and vampires. words: 236,364 | chap: 36

heaven, hell, and other cruel dichotomies - jungwooed

Renjun was aware how his good grades, athleticism, and churchgoing all seemed like a mask. Something shiny and good to distract from the decay and delinquency below. He knew how his friends must think he was agonizing inside. And in a lot of ways, he was. But he didn't like to think of his good attributes as a façade. Renjun wasn't faking anything. He was going through his life as genuinely as it was safe to. Just like everyone else. words: 80,116

over your heart - playingprince

"Who's ever heard of a boy that wears a locket?" words: 55,527

we were born for this - playingprince

The only thing that makes Renjun feel alive is people calling his name. Or: a boy band au of what is already a boy band, because i like unnecessary extra steps. OR: the long, angsty noren fic no one asked for. words: 116,700 | chap: 21

Stargazer Lilies - renjunsfairydust (incomplete)

Just as fate is written in the stars, Jeno and Renjun would always be pulled back to each other. Ballet was Renjun's dream, but he was lost without his muse. words: 129,337 | chap: 17/18

black butterflies and déjà vụ - nct127

Jeno Lee would be the first to admit that maybe he was just a bit pathetic, and he'd stop anyone who'd give him a pitiful smile and tried to insist he wasn't. Being in love with Renjun Huang, the lead singer of their band and the person who had probably saved his life at eighteen, for the past ten years was pitiful. Even more so considering the fact that Renjun had been in a serious relationship for the past eight years. Shitty pop-punk, way too many tattoos and piercings to count, and comforting Renjun every other day when he and his boyfriend got into yet another fight. Jeno Lee was pathetic, but at least he could say he'd never run out of songwriting material. words: 70,190 | chap: 11

dojae

We Meet Again At The End - sweetkpopfan

Famous celebrity couple Jeong Jaehyun and Kim Doyoung shock the world by announcing their divorce, and a fairytale marriage turned disaster became a folk song that will be passed down through generations. words: 63,167 | chap: 12

Encore - yooodles

It was supposed to be easy and straightforward; another day, another case. Jaehyun definitely wasn't supposed to come face to face with the man he loved and left five years ago. words: 17,310

the endless blue - eyeronicmuch

Jaehyun is a retired writer who lost himself, but with Doyoung and his weekly flowers, maybe things will be all right again and he might want to try again. words: 34,000

johnyong

Paper Lions - NeoCopperTechnology

Taeyong is trying to keep his head down during his stay in prison before his trial but fellow inmate and alleged crime boss Johnny makes Taeyong's life just a little more complicated. words: 117,312

Just Seconds Apart - NeoCopperTechnology

Johnny's life has been a series of stops and starts. He moved in with his grandmother in Seoul to find a sense of normalcy. On the first day of his last year of high school, Johnny found someone in his class whose scent was so attractive to him he could barely think straight, but his search for normal is dashed again when he realized the scent he liked so much belonged to his homeroom teacher, Lee Taeyong. words: 128,275 | chap: 13

markhyuck

sweet relief (pretty please) - celegant

It takes a year, an unhealthy obsession with Lord of the Rings, and a few unexpected video calls with Mark's mother before Donghyuck realizes that he's somehow managed to literally fuck his way into an actual relationship. Or: 101 Ways to Fail at Being Friends with Benefits' featuring Mark and Donghyuck.

Step Into The Sun - Scouts_Rocketship

When Mark falls into his rut abruptly at the smell of the ocean and sunflowers, it quickly became news throughout the whole school that Mark Lee has found his soulmate. It was exactly his luck that the scent came from an "abandoned" gym shirt in the locker room. No one knew who the mystery person was. Donghyuck, after all that he's been through, wants to keep it that way. Unfortunately for him, fate has other plans. words: 96,533 | chap: 14

A Place Among Wolves - ahnohnahmoohse

Mark had never expected his life to hold much brightness or joy. But when a chance encounter forces him to return from hiding to the world from which he had fled, Mark finds what he thought he had lost forever - friendship, family and love. He meets new friends, forms new bonds, and is drawn to a cunning Omega who radiates brightness and who's scent is inexplicably intoxicating. But how long can Mark outrun the darkness of his past and identity? Slowly his new reality, at first perfect and joyous, begins to crumble until he is finally faced with an inescapable choice: to follow his profound love, or honour his duty to protect what matters to him most. words: 336,558 | chap: 58

Oh and listen to sticker album I think my favs are magic carpet ride, focus, far, and rainy night Out of all these recs the ones l'd really recommend are blood bond, to split a soul, we were born for this, and a place among the wolves is pretty good so far

Thanks for reading 🤩

[slasherhaven]

The Sinclair Brothers Relationship Headcanons

Bo Sinclair:

Bo can be an absolute flirt when he wants to be. As soon as you roll into town, he's got his eyes on you.

He's charming and charismatic. He expects you to fall for that.

Always flashing you that million-dollar smirk. He's always freaking smirking!

What he doesn't expect you to do is to care so much about him. To ask about his past, about his brothers. To be understanding and sympathetic.

He can brush off your concern and affection quite often but would sulk if you didn't provide it. Honest and sincere affection just isn't something he's used to receiving or giving.

You spend a lot of time sitting in the garage, watching him work and chatting with him. Sometimes he pretends like your presence is bothering him, like you're getting in the way, but would never send you away.

You're the only one who can calm him down when he gets angry or worked up. But sometimes you still just have to give him time to cool off.

When it comes to affection, Bo is kinda 50/50. It's the little things that he has to get used to, like when you lace your fingers through his, when you kiss his cheek or press a quick peck to his lips.

He's better when it comes to make out sessions, that's more his style. But he thinks your little signs of affection are cute and wouldn't ask you to stop, he's just not used to them.

Bo likes showing you off to the rare visitors that wander into town.

If a visitor looks at you in a way that Bo deems inappropriate? That poor soul stands no chance. Before just killing the guy, Bo is going to make it very clear that you are off limits.

Bo likes his petnames for you. Darlin', sweetheart, babe, doll, baby girl/boy (especially if you're quite a bit shorter than him).

Bo isn't too insecure, not about his appearance anyway, more so about how he treats you. The only physical feature of his that he is particularly insecure about is his scarred wrists. He's sensitive about them as they constantly remind him of how he got them in the first place. The first time your fingers even graze against them, he pulls his hand away.

Kissing his scarred wrists, proving to him that they don't bother you. That you love every part of him. He can't help but sigh and let his eyes flutter close, allowing himself to feel his adoration for you and yours for him.

Of an evening he likes to sit with you in the living room. Just the two of you in quiet, a drink in his hand and you sitting on his lap. You resting against his chest while he wraps an arm around you, holding you securely, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Smiling and smirking to himself whenever to press a kiss to his neck or jaw.

Vincent Sinclair:

As soon as he sees you, he's infatuated. And then you just had to go and be so kind and sweet towards him, never even giving him a funny look, are you trying to steal his heart? Well you succeeded.

Bo definitely notices his brother's crush on you and teases him about it.

Vincent does what he absolutely shouldn't do. He goes to Bo for advice but after receiving that advice, decides to completely ignore it. That just didn't sound right to him.

You are absolutely his muse. He had dozens of sketches of you and is extremely tempted to sculpt you but is a little worried you'd be creeped out by it.

You're his muse before you even start dating. He can't help himself from drawing your features. I fact, you're his muse before he's even built up the courage to be alone in a room with you.

Watching him work and constantly being impressed by how detailed his sculptures are.

He never ties his hair up when he works, resulting in wax drying among the strands. Thankfully, he kind of loves sitting while you brush it out of his hair.

He likes when you call him 'Vinny'. It might be a little silly but he likes it.

He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside when you hug or cuddle him.

Has heart eyes whenever you defend him against Bo or if you snap at Bo to leave Vincent alone. 

It takes a little while for him to remove the mask, terrified that you won't like his face. That it'll scare you or that you just won't be attracted to him anymore.

But Vincent trusts you so eventually he will give you what you want, he'll take off the mask with enough loving encouragement.

When he takes it off, you're both sitting on the bed in front of each other. He slowly removes the mask and places it beside you both.

He hangs his head so that his hair covers his face. You move to kneel in front of him, gently pushing his hair out of his face and lifting his face to look at you.

He is a little surprised by your smiling face, that you aren't repulsed by him.

Vincent absolutely melts when you stroke your thumb over the scarred side of his face.

He has to admit that it feels great to finally get to kiss you properly, instead of a quick kiss to the mask.

From then on, Vincent will leave the mask off when it's just the two of you. The way that you look at him and love him is gradually building his confidence. Though he still might have days were he's feeling more insecure, just show him lots of love.

Lester Sinclair:

Lester has eyes for you ever since he found you trying to kick your broken down car back into action.

You won him over when you didn't look at him in fear or disgust, just sighing at your useless car before giving him a small smile.

As he is supposed to, he tells you about the nearby town and offers to give you a lift. Stupidly, you accept.

During the drive he tries to ease the tension or just keep you at ease, making light conversation and making bad jokes.

But if you laugh at those bad jokes? You have his heart already.

After his brothers decide not to kill you, for whatever reason that may be, Lester is genuinely surprised to find that you seem to prefer him to his brothers.

It's Bo that usually earns people's attention and trust, yet you seemed to gravitate towards him. He didn't understand it but he wasn't going to complain.

He starts showing up freshly showered and in clean clothes. Trying to impress you and doing his absolute best to not smell of roadkill.

His brothers notice and Bo teases him for it. Vincent thinks it’s sweet but none of his business.

But Lester doesn't care because it seems to be working!

Bo may try to flirt with you just to see how angry and red he can make Lester. Hopefully this encourages Lester to hurry up and tell you how he feels though.

In the end Lester is a softy.

He loves giving and receiving affection. 

He’s smiling so wide whenever you wrap your arms around him or kiss his cheek.

Will hold your hand everywhere.

Unless you tell him not too, he’ll stand behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as the two of you talk to his brothers. 

He’s just so proud to be with you!

Lester has quite a bit of energy. He likes to joke around with you.

He also likes to dance with you even though he’s not a very good dancer.

Hope you enjoyed! If anyone knows the name of the dog that’s with Lester, please let me know! 😂

[skellebonez]

How's about Shadowpeach with 10 and 73, specifically with Wukong taking care of Spider Macaque in the Spider Monkie AU?

The ShadowPeach in this fill is pretty vague, so if you don't ship them I think you could still read and enjoy this! I really wanted to just have an introspection from Macaque about what the transformation has done to to him and how much he thinks it had done to Sun Wukong as well.

Stop it! You’re only making it worse!/You’re putting an awful lot of trust in them.

"Macaque?"

"I'm fine, Peaches."

Macaque was not, in fact, fine. In any sense of the word. His back and shoulders ached horribly, deep set into the muscle, aches that stemmed from what he had willingly put his body through. The extra height. The new grown fur.

His extra set of arms, totaling four overall, set below his regular arms that had their own shoulder blades to ache with. No, he was not fine.

Not to mention the headache from his extra eyes...

The fact he was laying face down on a pile of leaves because he ached too much to make it back to any of buildings was a pretty clear sign to anyone passing that while he sounded convincing, as always, he was clearly lying.

“Is there anything you want me to do for you?”

The question made Macaque pause in his musing and look up. It wasn’t as if the offer to help was unexpected, no. Wukong had made it very clear since they reunited that he can and would help in any way possible. It was the way the help was offered. Or, rather, the way he was asking if he could offer any to the ailing demon.

It was... different.

Maybe because now that Wukong went through something similar he could possibly understand a bit more.

It was odd for the dark furred monkey to have to crane his neck to look up at the other now. Sun Wukong towered over... well, everyone. Even Sandy was shorter than the new Spider-Monkey King. The only person who could probably best the other in stature now was possibly DBK, and that was on a day he wasn't using his own magic to shift to his smaller form.

He'd also been granted a third set of arms, instead of the extra eyes that Macaque had to get used to and deal with on a regular basis. But often he wondered if the trade off was worth it...

The places where they matched transformation wise, however, were their fur and eyes. Both had grown a mixture of coarse spider fuzz and soft monkey fur, often times mingling into a warm mixed coat that granted extra protection from the elements. Macaque's black fur had grown a deep purple over his chest and arms, offset by silver bands and stripes in places. Wukong's, on the other hand, became a soft white and a light peach fuzz shade that mixed with his natural deeper fur color. And their eyes each attained a brilling green hue.

Spider Queen once said they shone like emeralds and Macaque couldn't find himself arguing with that.

What he could argue with, however, was the fact that HE got really cool purple markings around his eyes and Wukong's face marking didn't change at all.

So point 1 to him for getting something extra.

Built in eyeliner.

"Mac? Mango?" Wukong asked again, pulling the other from his thoughts abruptly. "I can leave you alone for a bit if you want. Check in on you later?"

Macaque tensed and pain shot through his spine and, for some reason, the thought of suddenly being alone again filled him with dread.

"Can you..." he started slowly, low enough that he was uncertain that the other could hear him. "Can you groom my back for me? I couldn't finish it and..."

He trailed off, to embarrassed to admit that the whole reason he was even in this mess was because he had stubbornly tried to clean the fur on his own back when it had gotten caught on some brush and the stretching of his already painted muscles proved too much for him.

"Sure," was all Wukong said before sitting down beside the other and quietly getting to work.

They sat silently for a while. Wukong doing his best to run his many fingers through only the glossy tangled fur. The coarser fur would require a comb or brush and Macaque douted that the other wanted to even attempt brushing his fur out in this situation.

And while the deep set ache in his spine didn't vanish, the longer he laid there and felt the other working on his fur the longer he relaxed and felt the surface aches slowly dampen themselves.

“What did Syntax say about the next batch?” Wukong finally spoke up as his fingers worked their way through the knotted fur between Macaque’s second set of shoulder blades. Every graze against the skin beneath the fur felt like a new ache, but the touches we so soft and fleeting that Macaque knew the temporary pain would be worth not having to attempt to groom his own back again. “It’s supposed to last longer, right?”

"He thinks so," Macaque said, voice tight but clearer than he expected it to come out. "I know it will. He's never failed me before."

For better or worse.

"Seems like it," Wukong agreed quickly, apologizing as he pulled a stubborn knot just a bit too hard and earned a pained yelp from the other. "You're putting an awful lot of trust in him... but his serums have been working so far so even if everything is guess work he seems to know what he's doing."

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

The reply came so fast that Macaque knew that it was practiced. Said so clearly that even after all this time he knew that the other spider-monkey mutant was hiding something. His actions never ceased, though. Grooming continuing on as if nothing was said, hundreds of years not being dampened by the addition of size or number of fingers in the slightest.

“You can’t expect me to believe that you went through a transformation more drastic than mine so quickly without anythin-”

“Yes,” Wukong interrupted, voice more form and snappy than he has sounded the entire time he was tending to Macaque’s fur and muscle aches.

“You’ve always been a shit liar, you know. That’s my forte.”

Now the movements slowed, not to a stop but noticeable enough to be felt. Not until he finished working through the fur after another minute or so of silence.

"Only to you," Wukong admitted, running his fingers through the finished patches of fur to catch any missed knots. "Apparently I'm pretty good when it comes to others."

"That's because they haven't known you as long as I have," Macaque said, sitting up against the urges from the other to keep laying down.

And the sight before him, closer and clearer in the light than before, proved his suspicions that he'd had since the other's transformation correct in his mind.

Sun Wukong looked exhausted. Not physically, except for the dark bags under his eyes that Macaque could see forming. But his posture and the dull shine of his eyes gave it away. The way he leaned forward and his eyes were half lidded and the way he smiled in that awkward nervous way that showed far too much teeth.

"You've been treating me differently," Macaque continued as he stretched and the pain was worth the light rush of relief from the way the stretch relieved some pressure on his back. "Since your transformation. It's because you know how I feel now, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop it!" Macaque snapped, startling the other. "You’re only making it worse, pretending it doesn't happen! Have you even gone to Syntax for any treatment?"

In the back of Macaque’s mind he could swear he heard "hypocrite" shouted at him for the pretending bit.

"... no," Wukong admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with two hands. That wasn't from embarrassment or nervousness, that was from pain. Macaque recognized it from so long ago. "He comes to me, though. Practically throws the stuff at me while insulting me for being too stubborn for own good."

"He's right you stubborn ass," Macaque said with a half chuckle, standing with more than a bit of effort. When he stumbled forward he was grateful that Wukong held out a hand to grab his own and didn't catch him, who knows how much that would hurt. It had when he'd caught him before. "The new batch should be ready, actually. We should go see him together."

Macaque smirked up at the other, hoping he was playing his cards right.

"Besides, I know how much you like proving people wrong."

The loud laughter that resounded through their little patch of forest told him he was still good at playing that little game of chance.

"Alright, yeah," Wukong agreed, smile softening as he held out one of his lower arms from Macaque to hold onto as he walked. "I do like proving people wrong. I'm not too stubborn to accept help after everything that's happened."

"Now tell Queenie that next time we see her so she can stop worrying over you so much," Macaque chided with a laugh of his own as they walked the path to home Wukong had built for the spider demons on his island.

As they walked Macaque felt the soft and firm brush of Wukong's tail against his own and he wrapped his around it. Their tailed wrapped together, twining like rope behind them, and they just had to hope that Syntax wouldn't have a rant planned out for the two of them when they arrived.

[mizunetzu]

haha it's me again! could i get iida dating a delinquent male reader? (stuff like he smokes and breaks rules) like iidas trying to get the reader to follow the rules and he's like "i'll do that if you go on a date with me" so he does and the readers actually a really chill guy and they have a fun time, some fluff please?

IIDA DUDE MY GOD. MY RELIGION. MY SAVIOR. ok. Okok so. You said fluff and I delivered. But like-I mayyyyybe sprinkled in some angst. No worries. Fluff ending guaranteed. Also you know I enjoyed writing something when I broke my 1000 words rule. Like sheesh this is 3000 pLUS WORDS-

Also if iidareaders reblogs I’ll eat my shirt in joy

——————

Iida x reader - Selfish Promise

⚠️warnings - delinquent reader? Selfish-y Iida? Idk. None lmao

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) wasn’t going to lie. Iida really got on his nerves. He’s always up his ass about sagging his pants down low, or running in the hallways. It’s not like it was his business. He was in class 1-B, for god sakes.

Everyone in 1-A knew him as that “1-B boy” who always liked fucking with Iida. And he did, it was fun to see him get all pissy and red when he unbuttoned his dress shirt to the point you could easily flash him if you tugged hard enough. Iida was pretty, but even more pretty when he’s flustered. He wasn’t going to deny the fluttery feeling in his chest when he sees an opportunity to interact with Iida.

Which is how (y/n) found himself smoking outside the UA dorms, sitting outside on the steps and staring up at the sky. He didn’t smoke much, only when he really needed to destress, but something felt compelling to just pull one out today.

He already heard the engine boosted footsteps hurling his way, a smile growing on his lips. Once the blue haired boy was in sight however, he wiped it off and replaced it with a neutral expression.

“You shouldn’t be smoking on school property, (L/n)-kun!”

“Mm? And you shouldn’t be on 1-Bs dorms. Wait til Vlad or Monoma finds out.”

Iida stumbled back, biting back the scowl forming on his face. He took the cigarette out from (y/n’s) fingers, and stomped on it. (Y/n) clicked his tongue as Iida hiked his glasses up his nose further.

“Stop acting like such a ruffian!”

“Then go on a date with me.”

Iida choked on his own spit. He knew that (y/n) joked around a lot, but this was just excessive.

“(L-L/n), you shouldn’t joke about such intimate matters like that with someone you barely kn-“

“I’m not joking.” (Y/n) stood up from his step, and stood infront of the taller boy. “I’m dead serious.”

Iida opened his mouth, then closed it. “(L/n) it is highly inappropriate for two students, let alone boys, to go on a romantic outing! This is a place for learning!”

“How bout we make a promise then? A deal if you must.” (Y/n) seemed completely calm, but inside he was sweating like a clam. He had said it on impulse, and there was no going back. Either sell it till he declines or hell, he has a date.

“If you be my boyfriend and go out with me for one full day, I’ll stop acting like a ‘ruffian’ or something. I’ll follow the rules and whatnot.”

“B-boyf...” Iidas words got caught in his mouth. “W-WHY?”

“I’m not going to try anything...! It’s..it’s just for my own...reasons...! If...that makes sense...”

Iida ran a hand through his hair. Did (L/n), a delinquent, like-like him? A proper former man from the Iida family? He wasn’t romantically attracted to the shorter boy at all, but this was a good chance! He could finally be set on the right path if he agreed to be his significant other for one day! Easy enough!

Iida pushed up his glasses once more. “Fine. I will do it. But afterwards you better keep your end of the bargain.”

(Y/n) held the tiniest smile and extended his pinky. Iida looked at him confused, before hesitantly interlocking their fingers and shaking it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Gimme your number. I’ll text you the info later.” They exchanged phone numbers, and Iida bid him goodbye.

(Y/n) felt like he was on top of the world.

—————

“Oi Iida! Over here!” (Y/n) waved his arms around frantically, trying to get the boys attention. Iida spotted him, and made a beeline towards him. He gave a smile and bowed slightly.

“Good morning, (L/n)-kun.”

“Morning! Haha, I’m glad you came! I didn’t think you’d actually show...and you’re on time aswell! As expected of uptight iida.”

(Y/n) was in a pink, slightly oversized hoodie and black sweatpants. Iida was expecting him to be in full black, ripped clothing with skulls on it. He wasn’t expecting him to look so...soft? If you looked at him, you wouldn’t think he was the same person smoking on the steps of a prestigious school.

“Oh well, what time did you get here?”

“An hour ago.”

Iida deadpanned. Even he wasn’t that extra. “Why...”

(Y/n) rubbed the back of his neck shyly and chuckled. “I was so happy I couldn’t wait, ahaha!”

(Y/n’s) probably smiled more times today then the whole time he’s been enrolled into UA. It was an odd sight, but Iida felt a sort of proudness that he was probably the only one who got to see this side of him. He glanced at his face one more time, this time, looking at his red eyes and cheeks.

“...are your eyes swollen..?”

“Oh I...I couldn’t sleep...”

(Y/n) awkwardly chuckled for the 100th time that morning. Iida was about to go on a tangent about how sleep is important to you, but (y/n) suddenly grabbed his wrist, and pulled him forwards. He was practically dragging the poor boy.

“Is there anything specific you wanna do, Iida?” (Y/n) mused, looking around the plaza.

Iida shrugged.

“No, not really. Today’s more of your day, so I’m fine with anything.”

A bright red painted itself onto (y/n’s) cheeks, as he turned back around to hide it. It was usually iida getting all red and flustered, (y/n) wasn’t used to it. Still, it felt kinda nice.

“Awesome dude!”

(Y/n) went on rambling about places they could go to or eat at, but Iidas ears drowned out the noice as he looked at his smiling face. He didn’t know someone so...rude, could look so sweet. (Y/n) tugged at Iidas shoulder.

“...though I suppose, we could just go to a field and train, right?”

—————

(Y/n) got back up to his feet for the 5th time, and charged at Iida. He knew he couldn’t beat him with speed, so he’d have to rely on his quirk as much as he could. They were sparring in a little patch of grass near a small clearing, with a big tree providing the two boys shade. Iida swerved out of the way, making the smaller boy tumble onto the ground face first.

“Ah! (Y/n)! Are you okay?”

Iida rushed to the boys side and tangled his fingers in his hair. “It’s a little swollen but it’s not bleedi...(L/n)-kun...?”

(Y/n) hid his blush with the back of his hands and tensed up. “You..called me...(y/n)...dude..”

It was Iidas turn to tense up. His glasses fogged up as he swung his arms around madly. “IM TERRIBLY SORRY! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR! IJUSTGOTWORRIEDANDSAIDITONACCIDEN-“

“Dude it’s fine! I-I dont mind..!” (Y/n) jabbed him lightly on the chest.

“L-let me treat you to some food! As apology for your head I mean!” Iida stood up, pulling (y/n) to his feet aswell.

—————

(Y/n) was rambling on nervously again, with chopsticks resting nimbly between his fingers. Iida couldn’t help but gaze at his face. His eyes were softer than he expected, softer than the mockingly hardened eyes he pointed like a sword towards people at UA. His gentle clad smile could raise the heavens, with one crinkle near his left eye and a dimple dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He had unusually long eyelashes for a guy, but it made him look even more pretty for a bad boy.

“Why are you a delinquent at school when you’re such a sweet and funny person?” The words dripped out of Iidas mouth unconsciously, quickly covering his mouth too late.

(Y/n) flushed bright red, squeezing his chopsticks a little too tightly. “W-well...I don’t know. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. People just think I am because i don’t like socializing with everyone I meet? Like-id rather hang out with someone I know and like than go out of my my way to befriend all of class B, y’know? Does that make sense? Ahaha sorry I’m rambling again. I don’t get to talk much with my few friends. And they’ve pretty much heard everything I have to say so it’s refreshingtotalktoa-“

Iida cut him off before he talked his tongue off. “If you don’t talk to people you don’t know well, then why are you talking to me so openly?”

“Because I like you.”

(Y/n) said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wasn’t tripping over his words, or laughing nervously. He looked at Iida and said it like saying “the sky is blue” with so much certainty, it made a knot tighten in iidas throat.

Iidas question was, why though? Why did his heart thump along the buttery smooth rhythm of (y/n’s) voice? Why did his head reel every time he saw (y/n’s) eyes light up talking about something he found interesting? Why was he at such a loss for words when his gaze fell on him so attentively?

Iida cleared his throat. Maybe he was just excited to have a new friend. He didn’t see him in a romantic light! How could he? He’s just worked up on the fact that this hardass delinquent boy wasn’t who he thought he was.

“Shall we go, then?”

————

The date went by like a dream. Technically it wasn’t over yet, as the promise was for a full “day”, but window shopping and dicking around while Iida chops aggressively really tires you out. They both ended the day by sparring at the same clearing, before taking refuge on a bus stop bench. The sun was completely gone. Leaving behind the pasty purple and blue sky, washing over and killing the clouds.

“Ahhh, time flies by so fast! Damn, well, the days still not yet over soooo.”

“Yes, yes I know.” Iida chuckled. He thought he was going to have to bear through this day, but it was actually quite splendid. He definitely feels like he’s made a new friend.

“Well, is there anything you wish to do before the day is over?”

“Yeah um, so,” (y/n) cast his eyes down, fiddling with his fingers. “C-can we hold hands..?”

Iida wordlessly set his hand on top of (y/n’s) smaller one, waiting as he interlocked their fingers together. His hand was warm, way warmer than (y/n) was expected. He didn’t know, Iida seemed like a cold hands guy.

They sat quietly under the ambient streetlight, occasionally rubbing a thumb over the others hand, feeling it’s warmth and staring off into the distance. Iida didn’t notice his eyes drooping lower and lower until they were finally closed.

Iida let his thoughts roam. It was something he did when he was going to bed, or simply just resting his eyes for a bit. He thought of his family, what he would do for class on Monday, and finally, (y/n). It was the most prominent thing on his mind, and not because he was unconsciously resting his head on his shoulder, softly but firmly gripping the warm hand underneath his own.

The idea of (y/n) so soft and vulnerable in front of anyone else didn’t sit right with him. He wanted that sweet, kind side all to himself. It was selfish, and even wrong if he thought about it. (Y/n) was so sweet and respectable during this “date” of theirs. Perfect manners for when inside the classroom. If anything, he should be more than glad to have the world share this side of him.

So why was he feeling this way?

He felt a shoulder nudge from under his head, before a hand started vigorously poking at his cheek. He initially ignored it, but once he registered the current situation he jerked up and

“Iida. Iida wake up. It’s 11:40. We should be heading back before midnight. A-at least I want to so we can um...we can still technically legally hold hands by promise-“

Iida rubbed at his eyes in embarrassment. “My sincerest apologies for falling asleep! It was not my intention-“

”oh no it’s all good! I-I kinda fell asleep too. It’s been like...2 hours.”

Iida checked his watch. (Y/n) was right. 11:45 pm. He knocked his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and stood up. He extended a hand to (y/n) who tiredly accepted it and pulled himself off the bench.

They spedwalked towards the train station to catch a train back to UA, when (y/n) tugged on his sleeve, halting temporarily.

“Iida.���

Iida turned around with a hum. (Y/n) kept his eyes fixated on the ground, but held on to the sleeve of Iidas jacket like a lifeline.

“Today...is almost over.”

“Yes, um, it’s about 11:57 so we should hurry back-“

“Before the day officially ends,...can you kiss me?”

Iida focused on (y/n’s) downcast face. It wasn’t an expression of nervousness or any sort of flustered emotion. Instead it held a look of unreadable shame.

“If you do, then I would have no regrets. My feelings for you will also end here. I’ll try my best to end it. My feelings grow stronger for you everyday when we bicker or when I simply just see you, so I want to end this with a grand fina-“

“I refuse.”

(Y/n) looked up. Iida glasses glared white, preventing him from seeing his cerulean eyes. But he got his answer from the frown Iida was sporting on his face. Even he could agree, it was a silly request, but he couldn’t help by feeling just a tad bit hurt by how quickly he was shut down.

“I understand.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes, flushing with embarrassment. He scanned the area for something other than Iida to look at, before his eyes landed on the parks clock.

12 am.

Midnight.

The date was officially over.

(Y/n) was quick to let go of the sleeve he’d been clutching for a while now. “A-ah! The day has ended. The dates over.”

He stepped back and ducked his head into a 90 degree bow. “Thank you so so much for coming with me today.”

“I’m really happy.”

His expression betrayed his words. If there was one word to describe it, Iida would say it looked dead. Hollow, even. It looked hollow, like the sinking feeling harboring itself in his chest. He knocked against his ribcage multiple times to shake the achy feeling in his chest, but it never went away.

“Well, let’s head back now. It’s late.”

(Y/n) silently walked past Iida. It wasn’t until seeing his watery face drenched in silent hot tears walk by that Iida realized,

He was in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

He was in love with the sweet delinquent boy who smokes and sits on desks, but also has the most hypnotizing laugh. He was in love with the boy who wore saggy pants to school, but also wore an oversized pink hoodie that made Iida reluctantly imagine him wearing one of his own jackets. Oh, how cute he would look.

He was hopelessly, graciously, entirely in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

Iida ran up to (y/n), who had walked past him and kept going with the assumption that he was behind him. His breath crystallized in the form of fog when he ran, faster than he ever did without using his engines. There wasn’t enough time to hike the fabric of his pants up, and he’d rather not burn them to a crisp with the steam from his engine.

“(L-L/n)!”

He wasn’t sure if he heard him. He was still a great length away.

“(L/n)!”

He was closer now. Close enough for him to hear. He was either lost in his thoughts or outright ignoring him.

“(Y/N)!”

The boy whipped his head around so fast, his tears flung into the cold air and landed beside him on the ground. Iida didn’t think far ahead as to brace for landing, choosing instead to glomp (y/n) into a soul crushing hug. Though, it was more of a tackle with the the way they both tumbled over and hit the ground with a thud.

(Y/n) was able to soften the blow with his quirk, but the impact of Iida landing on his chest still knocked the wind out of him. He was waiting for Iida to start swinging his hands and start apologizing profusely, but instead got pulled up to his knees and encased in a more gentle hug.

He was buried in the crook of Iida neck, who in return nuzzled himself into (y/n’s) hair. They stood, or rather kneeled, in a stiff silence, rocking back and forth ever so gently.

“Sorry.”

“Wah! Don’t apologize! You did nothing wrong, you had the full right to deny my request-“

“No, not for that.” Iida untangled himself from the warmth of (y/n’s) body to look at him seriously. “I’m sorry for breaking our promise. Our deal.”

(Y/n) wiped his stray tears away, all bitterness turning itself into lighthearted confusion. “But you didnt-“

(Y/n’s) words fizzled out in his throat when a pair of lips shut him up. His eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms shakily around Iidas neck, drawing him closer than he already his. After what seemed like forever, Iida suddenly jumped back with fogged up glasses and heavy blush on his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! Forgive me!”

“You know, all you’ve done was apologize all day. Is this what you normally do in class?”

“NO!” Iida fell back on his ass, a yelp escaping from his throat. (Y/n) chuckled ironically, pushing himself up to his feet and extending a hand towards the blue haired boy.

“I still don’t see how you broke our deal.”

Iida dusted himself off and adjusted his glasses. “Well-listen I-“ For once in his life, he was at a loss for words.

“I...want to e-extent it. O-Our date, I mean.”

Iida stood rigid as a board as (y/n) blinked.

“Wait-so like, you’ll go out with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“And the day after that.”

“Yes I suppose so.”

“A-and how bout a week from now-“

Iida grabbed (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him roughly. And by rough, I mean rough. This boy has enough beef to throw (y/n) into the sun.

“I-I WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU FOREVER! I WANT YOU TO BE MY BOYFRIEND! I...I WANT TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND! I WANT YOUR KINDNESS AND SWEETNESS ALL TO MYSELF! SO BE IT YOU’RE UNINTENTIONALLY A NEGLIGENT BOY AT SCHOOL! I WANT THIS SPECIAL SIDE OF YOU RESERVED FOR MYSELF! IVE NEVER BEEN SELFISH IN MY WHOLE LIFE SO SURELY THIS IS FINE! I WANT TO BE SELFISH! I WANT TO HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS MORE! I WANT TO GO ON SOME MORE DATES WITH YOU! (Y/N)-KUN I LOVE YOU!”

Iida has never considered himself selfish. He wasn’t the type to want something all to himself. If his friends wanted to be friends with someone he disapproved of, so be it. If he bought food but a fellow classmate was starving, he’d be eating only half as his classmate would be happily munching on their portion. If it was reasonable, he’d be willing to give up anything. It was the right thing to do.

Surely all of those good deeds would permit him to be selfish just this once. He’d never known the feeling of wanting something so bad to the point you felt like you were boiling. Of wanting no one else to have someone look at them the same way they looked at him. And how utterly satisfying it felt to have someone to claim as your own. Just this once couldn’t hurt anyone.

And by god, the impossibly wide smile (y/n) held was one thousand percent worth it.

————

“Halt! No running in the hallways, (L/n)-Kun!”

(Y/n) slowed down to a stop and sighed. “Dude, get off my dick.”

“Still pestering (L/n) huh? As expected of Iida!” Mina and Uraraka giggled, as they both disappeared inside the 1-A classroom. The hallway was empty now, making both Iida and (y/n) relax. (Y/n’s) pissed off expression softened, a smile now growing on his face. Iida swears it’s like talking to two different people. It’s kind of scary.

“Good morning, Tenya-Chan~”

“Uh-uh. Don’t ‘Tenya-Chan’ me. You know the rules. You owe me a kiss for breaking a rule. Gimme.”

Iida made grabby hands at (y/n), puckering his lips jokingly. God, he didn’t want to admit it but (y/n’s) sense of humor was rubbing off on him.

(Y/n) snorted at his boyfriends antics, pressing a gentle kiss onto his mouth. “Well-I gotta go, bye bye, Tenya! See you later. Call me, you sexy lamppost.”

(Y/n) timpered off to his classroom, his bad boy attitude returning once he stepped inside. Iida stood there, in utter confusion, before turning around and walking inside his own class.

“Ne ne, Iida, I’ve noticed you’re kinda like...less strict with that 1-B baddie. What’s up?”

Mina followed behind Iida with a curious, shit eating smile on her face.

“Ah. We...became good friends. He’s not as bad as I thought, I suppose.”

Mina looked at Iida unconvinced.

“You know, I saw you and bad boy kissing out there. My god. Iida. You gay liar.”

Iida, along with probably everyone else in class 1-A, collectively choked on air.

——————

[twiceasfrustrating]

Hello!!!! you are one of the OM writers that i really look up to because your writing is so good!! is there any tips you can give to newbie like me? thanks in advance <3

Oh! I was not expecting this. First of all, thank you so much. I am but a humble potato smashing my keyboard until something comes out.

As for tips... That's hard because each person and how they operate is different, but I shall tell you what works for me. Not in any particular order.

Read other people's work. You will find there are certain tropes or styles you like or what to emulate (straight to the point, poetic, very descriptive, minimalist, longer fics or shorter, etc). You also find all kinds of words and phrases you never thought of that help expand your vocabulary.

Write the parts you like first. Do you have a random sentence you thought of that's cool or sweet? Write it down. I have built entire fics around a single sentence. Write it down as soon as possible, even if it's all by itself on an otherwise blank document. You don't want to lose it.

Let the muse take you. It comes and goes, but just let it do whatever it wants. It knows the way, even if poorly worded. You can always fix its grammar mistakes later. Also, you will find it trying to take control of the entire work... that is normal. You are its prisoner now.

Indulge. Thought of something you like but you fear others will not? Say f*ck it and just write it. You should write what you do because you like it, not because it's popular.

Know when to walk away from the wip. It can be really frustrating to drop something you had an idea for, but forcing yourself to keep at it may only make it worse. You can always save it for when the inspiration comes back. Or maybe it never will. That is okay too.

Wanting validation is okay. No, seriously. A lot of people will say "write for yourself" and while you should want to write for yourself first and foremost, it is perfectly okay to want people to acknowledge your work. You put effort into that thing (sometimes hours, days, or even months) and released it for free. It is OKAY to want people to notice that effort. Just don't expect to get tons and tons of it when you start. Even when you start getting a following, you may be surprised at your ratio.

Always, ALWAYS post to AO3 if you are posting to Tumblr. AO3 wants to save your work. It wants to treasure it like the precious gem it is.

Spread the love. If you want to be a writer, you should acknowledge the efforts and good points of other writers (and artists!) as well. Drop them that like/kudo < reblog < comment. Fill your community with positive vibes.

Know your limits. Everyone has things they are comfortable with and things they are not. You are allowed to avoid the things that you don't like or insert the things you do, even if you are spitting in the face of canon.

Take a break. You have a real-life outside of writing and fandom. It is okay to need breaks and to take them when needed. Feel no guilt. Some authors only update once every few months. That is because they are taking care of themselves. This is supposed to be fun, not stressful.

[nxrthmizu]

| honoured | day 16

»»——⍟——««

@daminette-december2019-2020 ​

prompt | Royalty AU

pairing | Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng 

words | 1.7k 

author’s note | Hi watch me indulge myself in this because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a royalty au 

»»——⍟——««

“You’re all pathetic.” Damian hissed, twisting the sword out of yet another knight’s grip. “How are you supposed to protect me when you can’t even beat me in a duel?” His sharp words glared at the line of knights that had applied to be Gotham’s prince’s personal guard. None of them lived up to his expectations, and at this point Damian wasn’t even surprised anymore. 

He huffed impatiently. “Is that all you lot have got?” 

“May I try, sir?” Spoke a knight that was way too short and way too small in comparison to the line of other silver-clad men. A pair of bluebell eyes met the prince’s emerald ones, a spark of determination and confidence glinting in them. 

Damian sighed, eyeing the spark in the bluebell eyes, a smirk overcoming his features. How naive, he thought. He couldn’t wait to smite out that light in those bluebell eyes. 

»»——⍟——««

He didn’t. 

The room was completely silent as Damian’s sword flew across the room with a clang, twisted quickly out of his grip as the small knight surprised him with the sudden attack. It was so quiet that the failed knights could hear the prince’s shallow, panting breaths that hurried to pay off the oxygen debt in his muscles. 

“... What is your name.” The prince’s voice was deadly quiet as he stared into the blue eyes. The knight slid the helmet off, dark blue hair tied up in a ponytail, flushed cheeks painted red from the ten continuous minutes of unending parrying. 

“Marin Cheng, sir!” 

The failed knights watched with bated breath as the prince stared down coldly at the shorter knight. They had underestimated the knight greatly- No one thought that the small midget stood a single chance against the prince, who was one of the best swordsmen known throughout the kingdom. 

“...” He surveyed Marin with a careful eye. “Very well. See Mr. Pennyworth about your new living arrangements.” The words were unspoken, but the whole hall was clear about what the prince had left unsaid. 

You are my personal guard. 

»»——⍟——««

Marin never left Damian’s side, per his request. His personal guard’s job was to follow him around to ensure he was never outnumbered in an ambush- And he had to admit, Marin’s presence was rather enjoyable. The small knight was not made out of a lot of muscle- But certainly had the wits and deftness to make up for the lack in size. 

The knight quickly learnt that there were times when Damian wanted the air to be filled with chatter, and when he did not. During the times that he wanted to rid of the silence, the blue-haired knight would begin talking animatedly, chatting about anything and everything around them- The bushes around the royal garden, the new bakery that opened downtown, the new uniform for cadets. And when the prince valued his silence, the blue-haired knight would keep quiet and simply follow the emerald-eyed teen around. 

“Marin.” 

The knight was sitting on the floor of Damian’s private library, flipping through a book with the prince’s permission. Blue eyes glanced up instantly, the book forgotten quickly as the knight waited for the prince’s instructions. 

“I’m bored.” Damian pushed the documents he was supposed to read aside. “Fence with me.” 

The two of them were in the palace courtyard in a while, both their swords drawn as the prince stepped forward with the first move. The metallic ringing of sword on sword rang through the courtyard, the blows consistently repeating as the prince parried his knight’s attack. 

“You’ve gotten better, my prince.” Marin commented with a slight smile, blocking another of Damian’s attacks. 

A smirk slipped onto the prince’s features. “Of course.” 

»»——⍟——««

Months flew by uneventfully, Marin moving seamlessly into the prince’s life, getting used to the daily schedule of the emerald-eyed teen. Marin would be up at 5am, training alone in the empty courtyard until 6, when a shower and a quick pop-in to the kitchen would be needed. At 6.30, the knight would accompany Damian to breakfast and the rest of the day would be spent in the study or in the courtyard. 

Of course, Marin’s appointment as the prince’s personal guard brought a lot of attention in the form of jealousy and hate in the knight’s direction- But most of the time, these glares were simply dismissed by Marin. The other knights started trying to find any sort of dirt on the personal guard, knowing there was no way they could outmatch Marin in skill. 

And fortunately for the other knights, (And unfortunately for Marin), the blue-haired knight had a giant secret. 

The blue-haired knight shrieked in terror as the other silver-clad men dragged her into the middle of the king’s court, wrapped in only a white towel, all of her secrets laid out after they ambushed her in her morning bath. 

“Sir!” One of the knights said with a scoff. “We have an imposter among us.” 

It was clear now, without the wall of her silver armour to hide in, that Marin was actually a Marinette. Her long, dark blue hair covered her bare shoulders like a curtain of ivy, her bluebell eyes sharp in fright of the king’s reaction. 

“Prince Damian’s personal guard...” The knight continued, eyeing her hatefully and with a glint of victory. “Is a woman.” 

Before anyone could express their surprise at this discovery, the doors of the hall slammed open, as loud as a thunder clap across the kingdom’s skies. The furious prince stood in the middle of the doorway, marching to the centre of the court with narrowed eyebrows and a displeased frown. 

“What is this?” He demanded, eyes flitting over to the nearly-naked woman sitting in the centre of the hall.

“Damian,” King Bruce begin slowly. “It seems that your personal guard is... A lady.” 

‘Infuriated’ didn’t even begin to describe the prince’s expression. “And?” He snapped, turning to point his glare at the knights that surrounded the blue-haired knight. “She’s more than competent at her job. More competent than you lot, actually.” 

“My prince, with all due respect, don’t you think it’s inappropriate to have a lady as a knight?” One of the silver-clad men spoke up with a raised eyebrow, his fellow knights murmuring their agreements. 

The prince sucked in a deep breath before sharpening his ice-cold glare. “I am to be the future king of this country.” Hissed the emerald-eyed prince. “And if the knight, whether a she or a he, is capable of holding he or her ground in a duel against me, which, may I remind, you lot weren’t, then I would be nothing less than honoured to have her fight by my side.” 

Silence rang deafening volumes in the courtyard as men registered the fact that Prince Damian- The ice prince himself- Just admitted to be honoured to fight in someone’s else company- Never mind the fact that the someone happened to be a woman. 

“Father.” Damian said in an icy tone, shedding off his cloak to wrap around Marin- No, Marinette’s shoulders. “These knights clearly have no concept on respect and privacy. They dragged out a woman in nothing but her towel into the centre of a hall. Father, surely you don’t believe that these people here deserve to be knights?” 

The king hummed thoughtfully. “You do have a point. I don’t suppose they do.” 

“Your majesty-” 

“Alfred, have these men be removed from the palace premises and be stripped of their knight titles, please.” 

“Father, if I could make one more request?” 

“Speak.” 

Damian stood up, a cold fire burning in his eyes that would later lead him to be a fair and just ruler. “I would like to allow capable women to join knight ranks officially.” 

The court was so silent that you could hear the pen scratching of Mr. Pennyworth, who was busy making arrangements and smiling proudly at the emerald-eyed prince’s request. 

“That is an interesting request, Damian.” The king smiled thoughtfully. “Have your proposal on this new law finished and on my desk by tomorrow afternoon.” 

The prince nodded his head, gripping his personal guard’s shoulders as he helped her stand. “Thank you, father.” He said, emerald-green eyes glinting at the now former-knights as he guided Marinette out of the hall, the doors slamming close as if nothing had just happened. 

»»——⍟——««

 “Did you know this whole time?” Marinette asked quietly, now decked out more comfortably in her knight gear. The prince and his personal guard were seated on the stone steps of the courtyard, the sun beating down into the ceiling-less area. 

“... Ever since you beat me. Yes.” Came the prince’s answer as he watched the blue-haired woman wipe his sword clean. “You were too small-built to be a man. Your shoulders aren’t wide enough.” 

“I see.” 

Silence resumed as the blue-haired knight fidgeted awkwardly on the step, her hands moving quickly to make the metal shine under the glow of the sun. 

“You don’t have to always wear your armour around me.” Damian mused quietly, leaning against one of the pillars comfortably. “You can just wear a shirt. It would be easier for you to move around. And since everyone knows anyway,” He shrugged. “No point in you trying to cover up with your armour anymore.” 

Marinette blushed at the prince pointing her out blatantly. “I... Yes, my prince.” 

“Go change. I want to duel for a bit before I have to draft up my proposal.” He said lazily, flicking his hands at her. “I’ll practice on my own first. Hurry up.” 

He watched her retreating back, the clanks of her armour gradually getting softer as she returned to her room, which was only a corridor away from his. His mind flickered back to the day he first met her- Damian thought he’d never lose to a man in swordplay. 

And he was right. 

He lost to a woman. 

A woman by the name of Marinette Cheng. 

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @maskedpainter @animegirlweeb @starmist19 @myazael @stainedglassm @user00000003 @toughluna @nickristus-dreamer @missmadwoman

send in an ask to be added to Cady’s Daminette December taglist! 

»»——⍟——««

also I feel so sorry for everyone waiting for me to update never knowing which dates I’ll write for lol 

Oh oh and I'm pretty proud of this because I didn't use she/her at all before Marin's gender reveal :)

[tsarisfanfiction]

Colour Prompt :)

#22 - purple: bruise, pain, mystery

For Scott & John (& Gordon?)

A Little Ruthlessness

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Gordon, John, Scott

First thing I've written in a good week and a half, and the longest thing I've written in... a while (thank you, rl, for hitting me hard enough to wreck my muses when I was planning on celebrating finishing my dissertation by writing lots). Also highly self-indulgent because why not.

So we have some Scott&Gordon&John, which is a highly entertaining combination and I loved writing this. I think I actually hit all three of those prompts with this...

Colour Symbol Prompts

“He’s late,” Gordon huffed, fog erupting from his mouth as he rubbed his arms to stave off the winter chill. “What’s taking him so long?”

Leaning against a nearby wall nonchalantly, bundled up in so many layers Gordon had laughed when he’d first seen him and poking at his tablet, John shrugged. If Gordon didn’t know his brother as well as he did, he’d think the ginger wasn’t worried at all.

There was an urgency to the way he was poking at the screen, though. John didn’t do big, flashy, displays of emotion, but when you knew what to look for, the deliberate placement of each digit as he manipulated whatever was on the screen screamed unease, and even a little bit of frustration.

Their brother was supposed to have met up with them an hour ago, as soon as he escaped the social gathering he’d been coerced into by what Gordon could only assume was an old flame from high school. For all that Scott was naturally charismatic and popular, it was an open secret in their family that he hadn’t managed to keep any of his old high school friendships. Teenagers were fickle things, and he’d been too busy raising four younger brothers to fill the social quota they’d expected of him at the time, let alone after they lost Dad as well.

Still, the high school reunion had called, and for some reason, Scott had answered.

He wasn’t supposed to stay there so long, though. Gordon and John had both determined that there was a high chance Scott would be leaving the reunion reminded of all the reasons why he hadn’t been able to keep those friendships and decided to make their own arrangements for the evening. Nothing outlandish – not when John was involved – but a trio of brothers hanging out without the stress of their otherwise busy lives hanging over them.

Not the usual trio of brothers that might be expected to hang out, but as much as Virgil would always jump to help Scott, where they had planned really wasn’t for their softer brother – and Alan was underage anyway.

Beating casinos at their own money-laundering game required just a touch of ruthlessness, and that was very much John’s area of expertise. Gordon found it fun, and Scott always enjoyed taking selfish rich snobs a peg or several. It also required enough strategic thinking and brainpower to cut off any unwelcome dwelling their big brother might otherwise land himself in.

That meant nothing if Scott wasn’t even showing up in the first place.

“Have you called him?” Gordon shot over at John, who was still poking away deliberately at his tablet.

“No answer,” the ginger replied, breath fogging in front of his own face. He didn’t even seem to notice – then again, all those ridiculous layers were probably doing their job to keep him warm. Gordon’s had failed him about half an hour ago. In his defence, he hadn’t exactly planned to be hanging around in the cold this long. “He’s not read any messages, either.”

If they’d gone to all this trouble to plan a pick-me-up for Scott after an expected downer of an evening, their big brother had better not have managed to find some entertainment and forgotten to let them know.

But that wasn’t like Scott at all – even if he had initially forgotten, a call or message from John would have reminded him instantly.

Gordon shivered again. Something didn’t seem right.

“So now what?” he asked instead, not because he didn’t have any ideas – crashing the reunion was an obvious one that sprung to mind – but because John was probably already enacting a plan or several of his own already.

“His phone’s location transmitter’s off,” John said by way of answer. “Actually, his phone seems to be dead in general.” The same phone John and Scott had both checked was fully charged on the way here so he didn’t lose contact with them?

Gordon’s eyes narrowed.

“So what have you got?” There was no way John hadn’t got something by now.

“His watch isn’t transmitting, either,” his brother reported. “But…” He trailed off, staring intently at something Gordon couldn’t see on the screen.

The temptation was there to prod him – verbally or literally – but unlike when John was a mere hologram that may or may not be transmitting, this time Gordon could see that he was mid-thought, still working, still doing something to figure out why their big brother had gone dark, and held back.

It didn’t take John long to finish whatever he was doing.

“I’ve got a location.” The astronaut kicked off from the wall he was leaning against and started striding forwards, long legs uncaring that Gordon’s were much shorter. It took a second or two to jog to catch up.

“What have you got?” he repeated.

A map of the area flashed up above the tablet; orange and yellow highlighted their own position, moving quickly down the street, while a flickering blue icon blinked in and out of existence unsteadily down a side alley four blocks away.

“You said it wasn’t transmitting?”

“It’s not,” John said shortly. “I triangulated all the signals within the appropriate parameters until I picked up traces of its electronic residue.”

Residue didn’t sound promising. Gordon resumed his jog, knowing that John was fully capable of keeping up with him, and mentally mapped out the shortest route to the weakly flickering blue dot. It was staying in the exact same location, not even a slight waver in position, and that, Gordon really didn’t like.

Scott wasn’t one for staying still.

Unconsciously, his pace hastened further. By the time the alley loomed ahead, visible in person and not just lines on a hologram, he was all but sprinting. John was a little way behind him, but that was fine.

Gordon’s instincts screamed for him to keep going, to charge straight into the alley and find out what was going on, but he reined them in, forcing his legs to slow to a walk, and then a stop at the entrance to the alley.

They had no idea what they were walking into, and despite all the signs pointing to not, Gordon really didn’t want to interrupt if Scott had simply found entertainment and forgotten about them. More realistically, he also didn’t want to charge into a hostile situation unaware.

There were no sounds coming from the alley. Nothing to tell him what was going on, but also enough to tell him what wasn’t. With one glance back to see how far behind John was – not far, only seconds out – Gordon slipped around the corner.

Alleys were always somehow gloomier than the surrounding streets. Lighting never seemed to work quite so well; John could no doubt explain it, but an explanation wasn’t important right then.

What was important was that, in the resultant gloom, something was slumped over on the ground. Something that Gordon approached carefully, glancing around to make sure nothing else was laying in wait with a nasty surprise.

Nothing appeared, even as he took the last few steps, and his rigid restraint snapped.

“Scott!” His knee protested as it hit the street sharply but that was insignificant in the face of the ragdoll impersonation his eldest brother was doing spectacularly well. “Hey, Scott?”

His cold fingers found his brother’s throat, pressing up against the pulse point. Scott’s skin was almost as cold as his own, but the steady thrum of his heartbeat beat reassuringly against his fingertips.

Hurried footsteps behind him announced John’s arrival.

“Give me some light,” Gordon ordered, not looking up at him. A blink later and a pale, holographic blue washed over the pair of them. Tablets didn’t have the best torches in the world, but it did the job.

Scott’s eyes were closed, although the lack of response had already implied their brother was out cold. One had a spectacular ring of colour around it, matching the blotches that covered every visible section of skin. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth in a way that had Gordon fearfully inspecting his lip in the hopes that it was just a cut.

The light quivered a little as John knelt down on Scott’s other side.

“His watch is smashed,” the ginger reported. It made sense, considering how difficult it had been to track, but their watches were IR standard. They didn’t smash easily. “Broken wrist, too. How’s his head?”

“Bruised, like the rest of him,” Gordon replied. “Looks like he cut his lip on his tooth, and he’s going to have a fantastic shiner.” He gingerly felt around. “Splitting headache, too. His head’s not bleeding but it’s taken a hard knock.”

“Try and get a response while I deal with his wrist,” John ordered. The tablet light moved away from Scott’s face, leaving it shadowed by alley-gloom, but Gordon could still see well enough to lightly tap a less-colourful portion of his cheek.

“Hey, Scott,” he coaxed. “This isn’t a great place for a nap, you know, bro.” Rustling indicated that John was deploying something medical. Gordon wasn’t even surprised he had something on him, although it was probably brought along just in case gravity got the better of him, and not because he was expecting to patch up their brother when they’d left home earlier. “C’mon, Scotty.”

The faint groan he got was music to his ears.

“That’s right,” he encouraged. “Really not a good place to nap.”

In the gloom, he couldn’t make out the exact moment familiar blue eyes edged open, but he heard the second, louder, groan, followed almost immediately by a sharp inhale that could only be pain.

“G’don?”

“Right here,” he confirmed, resting his hands lightly on Scott’s shoulders in case his idiot of a brother thought attempting to sit up was a good idea. “John’s here, too.”

He got a pain-smothered grunt in response. Muscles twitched under his palms, and then he was predictably forced to keep Scott still.

“Nope,” he chirped. “No moving for you just yet. How’s his wrist, John?”

“Strapped up,” the ginger answered. “How aware is he?”

“’nuff,” Scott rasped weakly before Gordon could reply. “W’ah-ow.”

“Hospital or home?” Gordon looked away from Scott to glance at where John was once again poking at his tablet, somewhat awkwardly as he was also holding Scott’s arm still with one hand.

“’ome,” Scott interjected.

“We’re closer to Thunderbird One than the hospital,” John agreed. “Once we reach her we can run a scan.”

And if the scan showed up something they couldn’t handle at home, Thunderbird One could get Scott to a hospital faster than an ambulance. Gordon nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, looking back down at Scott. “I’ll need a hand picking him up.”

“Ic’n-”

“Nope.” He overrode Scott’s protest. “I doubt you can even see straight right now. You’re not walking.”

The wordless noise he got in response told him he was right, and that Scott didn’t want to admit it.

John’s tablet vanished somewhere in amongst the multitude of layers he was wearing as the ginger left Scott’s wrist to kneel opposite Gordon instead. “How do you want to do this?”

Gordon considered his options, quickly realising that the one that would hurt Scott the least was also the one his brother would hate the most. With no idea what damage he’d taken to the ribs, putting any substantial pressure on his abdomen could spell disaster.

He drew Scott’s unbroken wrist up, to renewed protest, and looped it around the back of his own neck. “It’s not far,” he said. “Bridal’s safest.” Not the easiest, but Gordon was always up for a challenge.

“No,” Scott huffed, but John nodded, like he’d come to the same conclusion. He probably had.

Between them it took no time at all to get Scott loosely in position, broken wrist cradled limply on his stomach as Gordon and John slipped their arms beneath him and prepared to shift.

“Whenever you’re ready,” John said, and Gordon’s mouth twisted into a wry grin.

“On three. One, two, three.”

Scott wasn’t light by any means, but despite his protests he didn’t resist as between the two of them they got him into the air, suspended between them for a moment before John carefully shifted his grip until the battered body of their big brother slipped neatly into Gordon’s arms.

His shoulders protested at the weight, but Gordon ignored them in favour of immediately starting to move. He wasn’t Virgil; he couldn’t carry Scott around as though he weighed nothing, and there was a definite, short, time limit before his muscles gave out.

Scott gave a pained huff, the air brushing past Gordon’s jaw. “Ic’n walk,” he muttered again. Gordon appreciated that he wasn’t trying to prove it, because if Scott actually tried, he’d almost certainly end up dropping him and probably injure them both in the process. At least Scott was mentally aware enough to recognise that.

“Not until we know how badly injured you are,” John told him firmly. “One’s not far from here.” Gordon let him lead the way, trusting him to pick out the shortest route to where the Thunderbird was secured. They left the gloom of the alley for the better-lit streets, and Gordon almost wished they hadn’t. The bruising had been bad enough in the half-light conjured by the tablet; under the powerful street lighting, Scott looked even worse.

When Gordon found out who did this to his brother, they were going to regret it.

Blue eyes, one barely able to open, were regarding him worriedly, as though Gordon was the one that needed fretting over. The hand slung over his shoulder squeezed shakily when something made him stumble, and Gordon grinned down at him thinly once he regained his footing.

“Nearly there,” he promised, both his brother and his protesting muscles. In front of him, John had reproduced his tablet from the volume of clothing he was wearing and was tapping away even as he led Gordon around another corner.

Thunderbird One glittered in the darkness of the park, tucked away mostly out of sight. The stealth coating Scott rarely bothered to use since the Zero-X had done its job at preventing gawkers gathering around, although now John had turned it off it was only a matter of time before late night crowds gathered.

Gordon stumbled again as he approached, muscles burning, and Scott let out an almost silent hiss. A hum of a hover stretcher murmured its way into earshot, guided by John, and Gordon gratefully let it take Scott’s weight, slipping his screaming arms out from underneath him and ducking away from the arm slung around his shoulder.

True to form, Scott immediately started to sit up, but John was there with a gentle but firm touch. In his other hand, the medscanner flickered yellow.

Rubbing at his protesting shoulders, Gordon was reluctantly relieved to hand over responsibility to his older brother as John somehow managed to keep Scott laying down long enough to get the stretcher inside Thunderbird One. Gordon followed, just in time to hear John sigh.

“-broken foot, so no, you couldn’t walk, Scott.”

“So,” he interrupted before Scott found a reason why that wouldn’t stop him. “What’s the verdict, Johnny?”

“Don’t call me that,” John snapped back automatically. “Nothing’s flagging up as beyond our facilities, but I’ve sent the results to Grandma for final verdict.”

Grandma, Virgil, and their arsenal of medical equipment could handle a lot, so that by itself wasn’t completely reassuring, but it went a little way towards it.

“Do we know what happened?” he asked, rather than dwell on that for long. “Scott?”

“N’dea,” his brother mumbled. “D’n r’mber ‘thing ‘fter th’arty.” He sounded put-out enough for it to be the truth.

Gordon caught John’s eye and the ginger’s lips thinned. They’d find out who did it, one way or another. No-one messed with their family and got away with it, no matter how much that contradicted with International Rescue’s philosophies.

Sometimes, a little ruthlessness was necessary.

[esamastation]

etaet: Jedi!Cody clone!obiwan? Or has this already been done?

When Cody had been called away from his previous mission and told that he'd be one of the Jedi assigned with clone troops, he hadn't been particularly surprised.

His mission record was mostly about war relief, post war restoration, negotiation in war zones and so on, and he's confident in his abilities and specialisation to know that as far as Jedi go, there are few more suited to leading an army than him. Certainly, the mess of Geonosis showed how few Jedi were suited for it at all, never mind well.

He'd been expecting the call of duty to come sooner, if he's honest – but the issue of Melidaan, after centuries of civil war, was so close to being finally resolved, that the Council had given him the grace period to finish. Cody supposes he will glad of that, once he got to the full swing of things of leading an army and the memory of fending of assassination attempts and terror attacks in Melidaan would seem peaceful and quiet by comparison.

"You, my brother, are consistently pessimistic," Rex says flatly. "I'd call it comforting if it wasn't so damned disheartening."

"It wasn't pessimism. Cynicism, at most," Cody says calmly, idly resting his hand on his lightsaber hilt – a habit he'd grown in Melidaan and isn't about to shake now. "Have you been assigned clones yet?"

"I got some of the Skywalker bunch," Rex says and at Cody's arched brow, explains. "They had like a bunch of different donors for the army, all selected for excellence in certain fields. Skywalkers are pilots and gunners and… maniacs most of the time. Supposedly, they're well suited to my predisposition."

Cody hums and checks his datapad. "I have been assigned a troop marked as Kenobi."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense," Rex says.

"Hm?"

"They're like, uh… front line guys, I guess?" Rex says, scratching at his bleached hair. "The get right in and deal with the issue at hand type. Super smart too, from what I can tell. Couple of the Skywalkers know a few Kenobi's and they're always complaining about them being kriffin perfect prissy bastards, too. Should suit you just fine."

Cody gives him a look. "You shouldn't be talking about your men like that."

"Your men, and I didn't – Anakin said it," Rex shrugs and offers him a grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "He's my Commander – I mean, the commander of the 501st. 4N4-K1N."

Cody carefully doesn't react to the clone name – from what he's heard, they're all named like that, with letters and numbers. Looking down he checks the commander of the 212 attack Battalion. 0B1. "Hm. Is there a significance to the length of the names?"

"Not as far as I know. The shorter the name, the older the clone, I guess – the further long they go on the patches, the more letters they add to the designation," Rex says and peers in – and then whistles. "Damn, you got one from the early patches."

Cody hums. "I am not terribly comfortable with the terminology used here," he mutters. "It makes the men sound like things."

"It's how they talk to each other," Rex says and pats his back consolingly. "And yeah, it's damn uncomfortable, but you get used to it the same as any other culture. Or, well… if there's anyone who can turn things around, it's you."

-

0B1 is old enough to have grown a full beard and hair that cascades down to his shoulders in tousled curls and the look he gives to Cody is full of certain kind of guarded mischief that tells him the utter lack of regulation haircut is perfectly intentional and absolutely intended for a certain effect. The others in the officer core of the 212st have also slightly longer hair than is standard for a military, commonly with a parting on the side – though 0B1 is the only one with a beard.

"General on deck," 0B1 calls and the clones all come into attention in a sharp clatter of plastoid against plastoid, and boots against metal.

"At ease," Cody says, looking for one man to another. They're all identical, of course, the entirety of the 212th consists of Kenobi clones, which seems to be the standard with the Grand Army – 501st was entirely made of Skywalkers too. There's variance though, both in armour colouring and in hair. Few have tattoos, but it seems to be the rarity – most have settled on playing with hairstyles. One of the clones has a completely baffling style of a little nerf tail and then a single little braid behind his ear in an otherwise short hair – the clone grins cheekily, when he sees Cody eying him.

Well. In a group of identical faces, one would want to differentiate.

"I am Jedi Master Cody," the Jedi introduces himself, wondering at the absurdity of the fact that in a bunch of military clones, he seems the only one with an actual crew cut. "I will be taking charge of the 212th Attack Battalion from today on. As far as Jedi go, I am one of the more militant ones and have been going from one battle field to another since my knighting, so we will likely be send right into the thick of things as soon as I am settled in."

That makes almost every eye in the crowd shine with a sort of eager light, which Cody muses wryly will likely get dampened before long. 212st might be an attack battalion meant for the front lines, but from their files they haven't seen any actual action yet. They'd learn, fast, that it wasn't as fun as their trainers no doubt made it out to be.

"Tomorrow I will do a full inspection of every squad," Cody continues, "And I hope to be introduced to as many of the men as is feasible. We will be receiving our orders the day after, and likely will set off from Coruscant immediately. Today you will all have reasonable time off to fill up requisition orders for personal and off time effects and entertainment – make sure your men make use of it, we will likely not see a Republic planet in a while."

That gets him a few eyebrows and actual smiles, and a lot of tense shoulders loosen. Good – it's not enough to warm him up to the men, but it's a start.

"I will be eating meals with the officers every night in my quarters," Cody says – something he'd done in Melidaan, to establish a rapport with the military there. "I expect you all in comfortable but reasonably clean uniforms for these meals – no plastoid, though. Armour tends to make for uncomfortable sitting. If you have any questions, I am open to answer them now."

There's a moment of silence and then 0B1 smiles, lifting a hand. "Are there any restrictions on the form of personal and off time effects and entertainment?" he asks, with devilish glint to his eyes, his accent so perfectly Coruscanti that Cody isn't sure if he's being mocked for his own Wild Territories accent or not.

"Keep it legal and if it's porn keep it under wraps, I don't want to see it," Cody says flatly and gets actual giggles in answer from the clones. "And if it's alcohol make sure it's only indulged at proper times and not immediately before your shift. And if it's on your shift, i will put you in the brig personally"

The smile his Commander gives is full of trouble. "Yes, sir," he answers, sounding absolutely delighted with Cody's answer.

Cody clears his throat and looks away from the Commander. "Anything else?"

He answers everyone's questions, some of which are about their free time allowances – something they apparently didn't expect to get – and some of which are about their future duties. 0B1 also asks about Cody's past records, what kind of engagements he's been in, and his eyes all but shine as Cody summarises some of the major galactic actions he's taken part of.

In the end, Cody thinks he leaves his officers pleased enough with their new General. When he dismisses them, there's no unease in the air, and everyone seems both briskly professional – and comfortable with his presence.

0B1 lingers behind, which Cody half expected. The Clone watches him, keen eyed and thoughtful, and Cody can't help but ask, "Well then, commander, do I satisfy?"

The Clone smiles, wide and warm, and it reaches his eyes. "Oh, you'll do, General Cody," he purrs. "You'll do indeed."

That one is going to be trouble, Cody thinks, straightens his shoulders, and prepares himself for a long campaign.

-

Aw man this was such a good prompt, I was grinning like madman writing this.

[missdawnandherdusk]

No Place Like Home

Draco X Hufflepuff!Reader

An Alternate Reality (read the entire series here)

Summary: In a world with no such thing as magic, or wars, or potions, what happens when you find yourself in a muggle school with an equally confused Draco... and your very alive father? It’s a perfect world... but it’s not home. 

A/n: So, I watched WandaVision, and well I have a few things to say. Anyway here’s out Hufflepuff darling in the same situation and me toying with what she would choose on a much shorter time line. Let me know if this hurts you as much as it hurts me. 

“Miss Y/l/n!” The loud voice woke me from my slumber, and I sat up abruptly. “Please sleep on your own time and not in my classroom!”

“Sorry, professor,” I rubbed my eyes, blinking.

The room was a bright cream color with vibrant posters on the walls. The desks were a cheap knock off wood and the chairs were plastic and metal. The floor was tile. The projector showed... chemistry. The notebook under my arms was filled with chemistry notes all done in pencil. The kids around me weren’t in uniform. They were... muggle.

I was in a muggle school.

Internalizing my panic, I started to think furiously about how in the world I had ended up in a muggle school. I should be at... and I should be with... and I had a... with... and I was planning...

A splintering agony surged through my head. I gasped and pressed against my temples, trying to ease the pain.

“Miss Y/l/n! If you are going to disrupt my class, then please remove yourself!” My eyes flashed up to a stranger. I didn’t know a face that surrounded me.

I stumbled out of my seat and out of the classroom into the hallway. Again, the floors were tile and the walls an awful plaster painted an off-white. A bulletin board gave information about school spirit and upcoming events. All of the paper was an obnoxious neon color that did not aid my headache. My hand went to my bag to get out a... I frowned. I normally had them on me. They... they were...

In my painful fervor, I ran into someone. My headache subsided at the sight of him. 

“Draco!” I sighed in relief.

“Yes? Do I know you?” He raised an eyebrow at me, a cold look on his face. I took a small step back my brows furrowing. My hand went to the hollow of my neck where my locket normally hung, but it was gone.

“Draco,” I couldn’t believe it. “You don’t.... you don’t know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve seen you around school, but no.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know you knew my name,”

I know a lot more than just your name, I thought in vain. I worried my lip, trying to find the best course of action. There was no answer for me.

“I’m... Y/n,” I spoke slowly, to be sure of my words. “Could you... help me?” 

“Are you alright?” He almost scoffed.

“Uh... no not really,” I admitted. “I have a terrible headache and it feels like the room is spinning a bit,”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Alright, I’ll take you to the nurse,” I didn’t expect his kindness. I don’t think he expected it either judging by the furrow of his brow and the indignation in his eyes.

As we walked along in the hall, I attempted to memorize the route, or even find some sort of marker that differentiated one hall from the next but there was nothing. It was a maze of mundane.

The only comfort I had was walking by Draco’s side. There was still something off. I yearned to reach and hold his hand. The longer we walked along the quicker my headache subsided. I had glimpses into memories of laughing with him. Dancing, walking, kissing, smiling, fighting...

I looked down at my hands and for the blink of an eye they were covered in blood. I gasped and the pain in my head intensified.

“Hey, woah, are you okay?” Draco asked, steadying me.

“No,” I screwed my eyes shut. “Something... something’s... Merlin I wish I could remember!” 

“Did... Did you just say Merlin?”

“...Yes,” I dared to open my eyes to see curiosity in Draco’s.

“Who in the world are you?” He was mystified, reaching out to steady me. As soon as his hand touched my shoulder, everything came into perspective.

A thousand memories came flooding back. Train rides and magic. Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Harry Potter and Quidditch. Wands and short hair. Robes and castles. And Draco, a thousand times Draco. In every memory, woven into every part of my psyche. It always came back to him. It always centered on him.

“Draco, something is wrong,” I stressed, pacing the hall, the pain in my head gone now that my memories returned. “This... this isn’t right,”

“Well of course it isn’t right,” His words sparked a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all. “I shouldn’t be here. We should both be in class.”

“But you should be here!” I raised my voice. “How can you not remember me, Draco! How can you not remember everything we went through together!? Why does no one remember!? Where are we!?” My hands went to my hair to run through it anxiously but the perfectly done updo constrained me. “Oh this stupid hair!” I started to pull out the pins and ties that held it into place and muss it up until it was falling at odd angles around my shoulders. “Oh, I wish I had my wand so I could chop it all off!”

Draco’s eyes flashed to mine at my final statements, something familiar in his eyes. The Draco that I knew. The one who I loved. But it was soon gone replaced by the caring ditz of a schoolboy.

“No,” I refuted, wanting that look back. “Wait,” I paused, going to him. “You remembered something. I know that look,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He stood, turning his back to me.

“Draco Malfoy,” I snapped. “You remember! Merlin all it took was me shouting at you! You arrogant egotistical little twat!” I was giddy with the fact that Draco remembered.

“I don’t—” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I... I can’t see it all. Just... flashes. Brief glimpses... then it’s gone,” He turned to me, his brows knitted together. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “There’s just... there’s something off. Something missing. There’s supposed to be magic. And wands, and something called Hogwarts... and... Voldemort,”

Draco hissed and glared at me. “Don’t you ever say that name!” He pinned me to the hallway wall.

My eyes widened in shock at his outburst, but it was a brief moment because suddenly Draco was struggling to stand, staggering over to adjacent wall to steady him.

“Draco?” The concern in my voice was evident.

“I... I think I need to lie down,” He choked out.

“You do remember,” The revelation quelled my old fears but brought on new ones.

“I... my head hurts,”

“I know,” I comforted softly, reaching out for him. “Let’s get you to the nurse,”

“You have no idea where that is,” He muttered, leaning against me as a crutch.

“Not really,” A smile played at my lips.

“I liked your hair shorter... I can almost see it...” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why do you remember fully, and I can’t?”

“I don’t know...” I mused. “I don’t know if I’m even supposed to remember anything. This has to be some sort of spell... a curse.”

We had found our way to the office, Draco conscious enough that he remembered the way. The receptionist eyed us, but Draco with his usual schmooze, lied elegantly. It made me smile, knowing that he was still just as clever here as back... back home.

“Alright sweetie,” The receptionist clacked on her computer and smiled sweetly. “I’ll just call your dad and have him come and get you,”

“My dad? You’ll call my dad?” I stammered out, leaning against the raised front desk for support.

“Or I can call your mom if it’s too much trouble,” The receptionist smiled kindly. “Are you sure you’re alright dearie?” The nurse asked.

“She’s had a long day,” Draco held my shoulder, giving a tight smile. “It’s her migraine. It throws her off the rest of the day, hence our reason for coming.”

The receptionist smiled kindly and made the call... to my dad. Draco and I waited for a while in the lobby, near a fake Ficus that had no hope to flourish in the florescent lighting. He held my hand the entire time and let me lean on him for comfort and strength. I didn’t doubt that he could feel anxiety rolling off me in waves. Merlin, I wish I had a potion or two on me! It would allow me to think straight even for a moment.

“Is that my little sunshine?” The voice made me jump out of my skin and turn.

“Papa?” I gasped and broke free from Draco’s grasp and ran into my father’s arms, tears stinging my eyes.

“Hey there pumpkin,” My dad chuckled. “You haven’t called me that since you were two... you feeling alright sunshine?”

I drew away, staring... memorizing him. Photos didn’t do the kindness in his eyes any justice. And the warmth of his hold was intoxicating. It was everything I ever wanted.

“Just tell me it’s gonna be okay,” I whispered without thinking.

“Of course, it is,” He smiled, petting my hair softly. “Everything is going to be just fine,” 

“Dad?” I asked. He looked at me expectant. “I love you,”

“I love you too, sunshine,” His smile reached and lit up his eyes. “Now let’s get you home. You’ve had a long day,” He looked over my shoulder, to Draco. “Thank you, son, for taking care of her,”

The look in Draco’s eyes told me how much those few words meant to him, and how much Draco remembered.

“Hang on, dad,” I paused taking a step toward Draco.

It was a choice before me. Draco and a life of magic and danger and true love and battles between good and evil. Or my father and the chance at a normal, magic free life at a muggle school with no danger or fears that Draco could be a part of... that my dad could be a part of. The gravity of the situation made me reach to my locket for comfort but was met with the tangled waves of my long hair.

“This isn’t right,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t make me choose,” 

“Let’s go home, sunshine,” My dad spoke as if I hadn’t. As if I weren’t crying. I looked back at him one last time.

“I’m sorry,” I was really crying now. “But this isn’t my home. I love you, dad,”

Tears blurred my vision, but I felt Draco stand firm and ready beside me. My hand reached for a wand that wasn’t there.

“You couldn’t just be happy?” A voice echoed in the now vacant office. Draco hovering beside me, my breath quickened. “I tried to give you everything! A happy ending! Couldn’t you just be happy!?”

“...Mother?” I blinked rapidly, clearing my tears. “What did you do!?” I shouted at no one, at the disembodied voice.

“Just once, couldn’t you be happy? And play your part?” She materialized in front of us. “You could have been happy, my darling,”

“This?” I gestured around me at the white sterile scene and florescent lighting. I glanced up at Draco. “I’m not happy if I’m not where I belong,”

“In the middle of a war?” My mother sounded desperate. “As the leader of all of Hogwarts? In danger!? Fatherless!?” I flinched at that.

“With Draco,” I took his hand in mine. “And my friends. And... Abby.” I gasped, suddenly recalling. “And...”

“Pansy,” Draco breathed out, struggling to form more of the memory. 

“We have to go back,” There was no denying that. “This isn’t right,”

“If you want them, they can be here too. Anything you want.” She was desperate to make me stay, “You could be happy here. Walt... Your father could be here, no one could hurt you,” There were tears in her eyes. “You’d be safe,”

“I want to go home,” I choked out.

The world changed around me, and I felt a weight off my shoulders. Quite literally. My hair was short and cropped again, and a familiar weight hung around my neck. I reached up and ran my fingers over my locket.

“It isn’t safe, but it is good,” I murmured.

.

masterlist

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more like this:

hufflepuff series

the serpent beneath

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