#( we’ll be seven years into our relationship and you still wouldn’t know my name. huh. bastard. )

[pastel-rights]

Sweet prince(ss) this, belladonna that, miss journalist here, my beloved there… do you even KNOW my name???

[cherripeach]

Chapter 11

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:6-8 when there's too much drama at school- all you gotta do is walk awwwaawy

Warnings: Curse words, violence

Words: 4.5k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Ace dragged Grim to your seats that you picked out by the scruff of his fur on his neck and tossed the struggling cat onto your lap for you to deal with in which you could only hold him like a teddy bear. 

“Don’t wanna, don’t wanna! I don’t wanna go back to boring classes!” Grim groaned while wiggling in your hold. 

You squeezed the cat tighter, “Can’t help it if you are already here, huh?”  

“Damn it! You’re being kinda harsh today,” Grim moaned as he tugged on your jacket by your wrists.  

The teacher coughed to get the attention of you three, and he surprisingly had that attention through the rest of class, forgetting about Grim’s nap and Ace’s doodling. 

Once the lunch bell had rung, the two idiots who were not at all interested in the previous lecture sprung up and leaped to begin the trek to the cafeteria. Deuce tried to not show as much enthusiasm by joining your side in your walk, but his long footsteps and quick strides told you otherwise. 

The cafeteria was as polished and refined as it was before your group broke the magic chandelier last night which surprised you more than it should have because you are in a completely different dimension where most things impossible in your previous dimension are possible here like a talking cat who is too arrogant for his own good.  All of this just means in your brain that you should be used to it, but you also remembered how the Headmaster mentioned how ‘magic was not all powerful.’ All of this just confused you. 

Grim threw himself ahead of your group and into the cafeteria lines, “Yeah! It’s finally lunch time!!!” Grim’s eyes lit up while he was wandering around the cafeteria and studying what he knew best, food, “I see a lotta delicious stuff already.”

Your eyes found the menu above each food station and found the prices, and even if you did not understand currency in this world, it still seemed too rich for you. A sigh slipped through your lips, “As if we’ll be able to afford half of the food here anyway.” 

Grim proclaimed while bouncing up and down, “A fluffy omelet! Grilled chicken and a bacon & egg tart!!” 

“You’re too loud!” Ace had his ears covered while lecturing the cat, “You’re pretty energetic even at lunch time, huh!”

Grim ran back to your location and tugged on your cloak while pointing at all the food, “I wanna have some grilled chicken! Come on, there’s only one more left! Oh, and omelets, too! And bread and jam! Go get them all!” The cat ended up in a line and got a piece of grilled chicken before reporting back to your group where you decided to head for a table. 

The cat, full of excitement, sprinted off  in front of you only to knock into a male with a red armband and pen in his coat pocket, causing the male to stumble and Grim to fall on his butt and yelp.  

 “Hey, you bastard!”  The male with the white hair (which you still question is real even though your friend is a literal talking cat) sneered at Grim, so you tried to calmly approach the group to see what the problem was, “My pasta’s soft-boiled egg is on the floor ‘cause you bumped into me!” 

You muttered out, “You're shitting with me,” as you slowly gained on the group to join the conversation. 

 “Oh, man,” A male located to the right of the white haired boy wined, “The soft-boiled egg’s the best part of carbonara.” His laugh dropped when he spoke, “How’re you gonna pay for that, huh, punk!?” The male snickered at Grim. 

Dude with the white hair left his plate of food on an empty table before he made a give-here motion with his hand, “Guess I’ll just have to make do with you giving me that grilled chicken you’ve got there.”

Grim wrapped his paws around the plate, “Wha–!? I don’t wanna! This chicken is mine!” He backed away from the two, only to bump into your legs. 

The second male rolled his eyes and put his plate next to the first male’s plate to start approaching you and Grim, “Huh? That's not how a freshie should talk to his senior?”  You pushed Grim behind your legs before the second male had made it to you, only for the male to begin yelling at the both of you,  “YOU B-” Your leg shot straight to his crotch, paralyzing him while he gripped the area. 

The first male threw his hands into fists near his chest and grabbed his magic pen from his pocket, “You’re asking for it, your bitch. I’ll-”

You did the same thing to the first male and kicked him in the dick. 

“Sorry, not sorry. But personally, I will never respect a senior who shows no respect for me. No one deserves respect or authority. They earn it.  And, in my eyes you deserve nothing from me. I am positive that you are both aware of who we are and what we have caused on our first day, and you decided to target us because we seemed ‘weak’ in your eyes. And you know what, I’m fine with being called weak. You know why?” Your side of the cafeteria was silent all listening in to your voice, “No one actually knows your strength.”

You walked up to the first boy who started this fight who was still holding his crotch while he grumbled out, “You're just a pussy.”

You chuckled, “That’s very ironic because you are in fact the actual definition of a pussy which is short for pusillanimous, meaning a scaredy cat. Your small mind wouldn’t know that, would it?”

The boy with the white hair spat at your shoes.

You nodded your head, “Get all your anger out, baby. I’ve been dying to talk to one of the prefects here, and you just happen to belong to the Hearts dorm.” You paused for a second and placed your pointer finger on your chin, “I wonder what he’ll do when I tell him how you threatened the only non-magic user of the school with magic. And I’m pretty sure using it outside of class will result in a large punishment.”  

You turned away from the boys to greet the wide eyes and open mouths of your friend group. 

The second male groaned, “We’ll get you. I promise.”

You rolled your eyes and did not even turn to look at the boys, “Well, my promise still stands. I’m never above tatling.” You waved to the boys while your group began to find a table, “Have a great day!” 

You could feel the eyes following you to your table. 

Ace moaned once you joined the group, “I missed breakfast and I’m about to pass out. Thank Seven nothing happened!”

Deuce sighed, “That was quite the predicament. To think that there would be such brutes in a prestigious magic school…”

You found the perfect table and walked to it, “Anything is possible.”

 “Can you not stand up for Grim next time?” Ace frowned at you, “As much as I hate to say it, they could have started using magic. You can’t go charging in thinking you are the hero when everyone else has something you don’t here.”

You stuck out your tongue in defiance and ignored his words. 

Once seated at the table, the four of you dug into your food.

Grim bit into the omelette and moaned, “The omelette is so fluffy, and the cheese is so melty~!” He shoved another bite into his mouth, “ By the by, I saw you guys’ dorm a while ago, but what do the other dorms look like?”

You swallowed your food before adding, “Yeah, dudes, your dorm was sick and suitable to live in. Wonder what the other ones are like.” 

A tray was placed down next to you, “You’ve seen the statues of the Great Seven by Main Street, right? This school has seven dorms based off of them.”

You stared at the male for a quick second, finding him familiar but not having the ability to remember where he was from, “Ah wait, who are you?”

Ace waved his fork around groaning, “You’re the dude from this morning!”

Grim stood up on the bench and accused the male, “He’s the guy who tricked us into painting roses red!” 

“That’s why he’s familiar…” You mumbled to yourself.

The male took a seat next to you and whistled before taking a bite of his food and announcing that he “Didn’t trick you, you know? It’s not like I wanted to do that either. I only did it ‘cause it’s the Dorm’s rules.”

“You looked so happy about it though,” Deuce uttered out while chewing on his food.

The senior waved his hand around to try and comfort his junior, “There, there, Deucey. The rules don’t matter outside the dorms so, Cate here is just your very gentle senior.”  He placed his hand on top of his heart and pushed his shoulders back, and you could even see the slightest bit of sunlight coming from behind his head. 

Deuce flushed red and shook his head back and forth, “Ple.. please stop calling me that, senpai!”

Another tray was sat down next to Ace, and a rather attractive man appeared with the tray. Green hair and glasses and a clover on his cheek, this male was both sort of odd for an ordinary person but compared to the rest of the people here seemed that he could blend in well. 

The new male chortled at the situation, “That’s how Cater expresses his affection, you know?” and shrugged his shoulders. 

Everyone’s brain at the table besides Cater’s buffered. 

So Ace, with an eyebrow raised and a spoon with some food on it also raised, asked the dying question, “Wait…” Ace tilted his head, “Who are you?”

The male sat down and rubbed the back of his neck, “Oops, my bad. . My name’s Trey, Trey Clover. I’m a Heartslabyul 3rd year alongside Cater.” He stated, pointing toward the other male. 

The four of your group nodded slowly before the male turned to you, “ And you...you’re from the Ramshackle… um.”  He paused and coughed a bit before continuing, “The new student who’s currently residing in the unused dorm, correct?”

“You can call it Ramshackle or whatever. Believe me it has several health code violations and is just not somewhere I would choose to live.”  You sighed out, “But when one doesn’t have a choice it is best to make do with what they have.”

Ace just frowned at you, “Wow... smooth words.” He rolled his eyes after. 

Trey ignored your side conversation and just awkwardly chucked, “I heard all about it from Cater. Sorry for the trouble our doommates caused you yesterday.” 

Ace broke out into an offended look at the male and shifted closer to Deuce, “He’s just casually sitting next to me..” 

Cater grinned at the three, “Come on! We’re in the same school, so we should get along! Give me your number!”

You inquired to Cater about what he just said, “Wait, wait, wait. You have phones here! And so now the only thing that could keep me sane and connected to the real world that I would normally have is here, but I can’t have it because it’s too expensive? Damn I need a raise.”

“Oh?” Cater bounced in his seat, “Oh, so you do have a number? Are you the type to not upload many pictures? Tell me your username!” Cater whipped out his phone and held it up waiting for you to start.  When you didn’t, his face slowly moved closer to yours until you had to start backing away. 

 Trey sighed, “Cater, the newbie’s backing away. Keep it to a minimum.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Cater put his phone away and waved his hands around. 

You scooted back to your spot muttering, “It’s okay.”

“So, you guys were askin’ about the dorms? That’s nice! A fresh convo!” Carter hoped back into a new conversation. 

Ace looked up from his food, “ I wanna know about our Dorm first and foremost. What the heck is that Rule Number something of something of the Queen of Hearts?”

You could only imagine what Ace was feeling for only being in the dorm for one day and already being kicked out for rules that he knew nothing of, “Yeah, it seems kinda of counterproductive, those rules.”

Trey explained to your group, “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the legendary Queen of Hearts, right? In order to establish absolute law and order, she made severe rules in order to oppress the eccentric citizens of Wonderland.”

Cater added, “And out of respect for the Queen of Hearts, our Heartslabyul Dorm wears red and black in order to represent the dress she wore. And it’s part of our traditions to adhere to the Queen of Hearts’ rules.” He shoved more of his food into his mouth and grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check it. 

Grim exclaimed, “Sounds rough!” 

“Adhering to the rules is the present Prefect’s whims.” Cater checked his phone again, “The previous one was kinda chill about it.”

Nodding, Trey agreed, “Compared to the other Prefects, Riddle is just a little bit more serious. That’s why he’s trying so hard to keep the traditions.”

“Ugh… How annoying..” Ace hissed out. 

Grim tapped his paw to his chin, “Hey, what kinda places are the other dorms?”

“Again, I’m still curious.” Thinking about the style of the first dorm, you could only imagine how planned out the other dorms are. 

Your kindhearted green haired upperclassman started to tell you the details of the dorms, “Just like Cater said a while ago, this school has seven dorms dedicated to the Great Seven.” 

Your mind flashed to the seven statues at the front of the school you had to take care of on the first day of classes, “Those statues in the front?”

Trey nodded, “Yep, those are the Great Seven. I’m surprised you didn’t know.” 

“Eh, I guess I just forgot,” You did not want any odd attention to be on you, so you tried and continued the conversation, “But they are all related to a specific dorm?”

“Yes. First, we have our dorm that’s grounded on following the Queen of Hearts’ Laws with our entire being: Heartslabyul Dorm.” 

The Queen of Hearts were not laws that you wanted to follow, but you were still very curious about why people would commit themselves to it.

“Savanaclaw that’s grounded on the fortitude of the King of Beasts.”

Scar if you could remember correctly. And another dorm that you couldn’t understand why they would follow that leader, but whatever. 

“After that, we have Octavinelle that was founded on the Sea Witch’s benevolence.”

Benevolence is not what you would call it; there had to be a mistake in the story. 

“And then we have Scarabia that was formed from the careful planning of the Sorcerer of the Desert.”

A pedophile, of all people?? Jafar should not be considered anything near a great person. 

“Pomefiore, the house grounded on the magnanimous efforts of the Beautiful Queen”

Okay, but like she kinda cute; while we don’t condone actions… Of course, her name being ‘Beautiful’ trips you up, but all of this is an issue for later. 

“Then there’s Ignihyde whose foundations lie on the perseverance of the King of the Underworld.”

Going off the Disney movie, yes, he was the villain. But going off of Greek Mythology. Never. Never. 

“Lastly, we have Diasomnia that was founded on the gracefulness of the Queen of Thorns.”

She kinda cursed a child, but we all have our petty days. 

“There wouldn’t happen to be a book in the library about them. Would there? I would like to refresh my memories on them.” As much reading as you did in the past, you knew this had to happen. Your only chance to figure out anything in this world was in that library. 

“Of course,” Your new upperclassman was the kindest, “I can show you if you would like.”

Grim brings you two back to the other conversation with his announcement, “All of their names are friggin’ long! I can’t remember all of that!”

Giggling into his hand, Cater winked at Grim, “That’s completely okay. You’ll remember them even if you don’t want to.”

Trey continued, “Just like you’ve witnessed during the ceremony, the Mirror of Darkness decides

what Dorm you’ll belong to after looking into your soul. I guess you could say that the dorms really reflect the student’s character.”

“That’s true.” Cater agreed, “I totally get it!”

Deuce could not agree, “Character?”

You snapped your fingers, “Like personality and maybe like talents?”

Trey guided your group’s attention to the wolf boy you met in PE, “For example… Look over there.”

“That’s the guy who wasn’t dying after the torture session in PE,” You pointed out. 

“Judging by appearance, he looks like he’s from Savanaclaw.” Trey concluded. 

Cater now had his phone in his hand and was scrolling through something before looking up to join the conversation, “Totes! They look like a dorm that’s got a lot of athletes and guys that’re good at scuffles! They’re pretty brawny? Or I guess you could say, they’re all pretty buff? Either way, Savanaclaw’s colors are yellow and black.”

Grim signaled to a male with a beauty mark on his chin and silver-blue hair and glasses, “Oh~ Then what about that one with the gray and uh… Light purple on their sleeves?” 

 (Seemed like a little pretty boy was your only thought about the glasses male)

Trey replied, “He’s from Octavinelle. The two sitting on the table beside him with the dark-red and gold colors are from Scarabia.” The table he was talking about held one person who you are positive you have seen before and another taller boy who just gave you a bad vibe. 

“It’s been said that both are dorms full of smart people,” Cater added, “When it comes to written tests, nothing can beat those two. Ah, but Scarabia’s Prefect’s only so-so when it comes to studying.”

Ace huffed, “Alright, I sense a red flag here.”

You bet, “Yeah, as if. If anything I wouldn’t think that test scores are the only factor of a prefect.”

“You adapt pretty quickly, huh, Ace. You not so much,” The male sighed at you.

“That was rude.” You huffed and ate more of your food, and then, mumbling, “It’s not like I know shit about this world.”

Trey rolled his eyes to look up and puffed out, “Going back to the topic, those bright and sparkling ones over there are from Pomefiore. Their colors are purple and red.”

Grim bursted out, “Wha–!! There’s a really cute girl over there!”

You smacked the back of Grim’s head and scolded him, “Hey, don’t assume anything about them.”

“Eh!?” Deuce questioned, “Even though this is an all-boys’ school!?”

“Idiot.” Ace mocked,  “As if they’d let a girl pass the sorting ceremony of an all-boys’ school.”

While Grim and Deuce were freaking out, you turned to Trey and Cater and asked, “I’m assuming gender expression is all over? What are your pronouns?”

Cater seemed delighted to be asked and replied with a simple, “That is true. Oh, he/him is fine, but I’d rather you’d call my cell.” With a wink at the end.

Trey responded, “Same as him, besides the last part. Though I don’t think many people here ask that even if the expressions are all over the spectrum.”

“Just wanted to make this a safe place,” You didn’t really know much about this world. Like maybe it was more acceptable here? Or it could be the opposite…

Cater nudged Ace and those two began a talk about a portrait in the school. It seemed to be some of the only girl contact some of these boys got. 

After Ace gagged in his throat, Cater waved his hands and turned back to the group, “It doesn’t matter, does it? Well, in any case, Pomefiore’s full of pretty faces who take their beauty routines very seriously. Their Prefect’s a pretty famous influencer who’s got over 5 million followers.” Cater boasted while holding up five fingers. 

Trey shook his head, “ Don’t judge them based on face value alone. Pomefiore’s got a lot of students who excel at alchemy and charms.”

“If I knew what that was a little more than I know now I feel like I would be more impressed.” You guessed, but with your luck anything could happen. It did remind you of the Evil Queen though. 

Cater chuckled into his hand and threw up a thumbs-up, “That’s right!” He, then, directed everyone’s attention to look at the cafeteria, but he could never direct everyone’s attention to a specific person, “Then, there’s Ignihyde, and they wear blue and black, but… I don’t see them around anywhere.” All of the group’s attention was given back to Cater since there was not a single student, “The students from that dorm are all sorta private, so I don’t have friends there either. I guess you could call them the complete opposite of Heartslabyul.”

Grim slumped and dragged his food into his mouth, “You mean, they’re pretty gloomy?”

Trey scolded, “Hey, now! Don’t be rude. Though, it’s true that they all seem pretty behaved and quiet. They’ve got a lot of members who have great magical energy and they’re pretty techy, too.”

It made you think about all the technology in this world and how different it was definitely going to be in this world. 

Deuce inquired, “Then there’s… Diasomething Dorm, correct?”

You nodded, “Dia-what-ya-call-it.”

“Stop acting like you got it right.” Ace puffed out his chest,  “It’s Diasomnia, got it?”

Deuce sputtered, “I just bit my tongue.”

Cater pointed, “Diasomnia is… Oh, there.” There was a table full of odd balls from what you can tell, “The guys who are sitting by the cafeteria’s exclusive tables.Their colors are light-green and black. They’re kinda—How do I put it? Super popular?They’ve got an aura that makes it hard for us commoners to approach them. Their Prefect is super difficult to grasp.”

“Difficult to grasp,” You titled your head, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Ace shoved your shoulder, “Shut up and look. They’ve got a kid with them.” He pointed toward a young looking male with black and pink hair. He really reminded you of a pretty boy from anime. 

“I bet you ten bucks he’s one of the oldest ones here. And besides I really don't think we should be judging by appearances at this place of all places.” You pointed to Grim who had so much food shoved in his mouth he looked like a chipmunk, “we lit have a cat.”

Trey sighed, “Grade-skipping is allowed here, so that’s possible. But, he’s not a child, he’s a 3rd year like us. His name is” Trey was cut off by another voice. 

A much deeper voice appeared behind you, “Lilia is my name. Lilia Vanrouge” And the child who was definitely not a child to you appeared upside down in the air. You knew that you should be surprised, but at this point in time you didn’t have the effort. 

Grim shot up from his seat, “Th..uh.this guy teleported here!”

You stared up at the male with wide eyes, but then, shook your head, “You are surprisingly not the oddest person I have seen today, but I have to applaud you for some of the nicest hair. And it is real cool how you can just float upside down. Like a bat... Or something.”

Lilia bowed while still hanging out upside down, “I thank thou for such a genuine compliment. Pray tell, are thou interested in mine dorm members?” He raised his hand to cover his mouth when he chuckled, “Fufufu, it is true that I might resemble a sprightly and endearing young boy. However, just like that man in glasses has said, I am a child no longer.” 

 “How the fuck did he say “fufuf” out loud?” You gasped out, “Also pay up Ace.” You made ‘give me-give me’ motions with your hand. 

“Sprightly,” Trey smiled widely. 

Lilia quizzed, “Prithee, why not approach us instead of simply watching from afar? Are we not comrades from the same school? We from Diasomnia will welcome you anytime.”  While still upside down, he threw his arms out into his full wing span. 

You were scared of this dude, but at the same time not, “Perfect, totally next time, dude.” You threw a wink and a thumbs-up. 

Deuce covered his mouth and whispered something to Ace. 

Lilia chortled, “Fufu. Pardon me from appearing from above while you dined. I will be taking my leave now.” The male waved his hand and disappeared. 

Ace muttered something back to deuce.

Trey stammered, “W-well… That’s how it is.” Trey closed his eyes and smiled before opening them back up, “Diasomnia’s got a lot of very special students.Their dorm has a lot of members that are pretty gifted. Their Prefect, Malleus Draconia, is said to be one of the five greatest sorcerers of our world.” 

“TBH,” Cater was scrolling through his phone, “Malleus is sorta like, the awesomest of the awesome.” He turned off his phone and tossed his hair back, “Well, our Prefect’s pretty dangerous, too.”

You paused, eyes squinted and mouth agape, thinking, ‘How would you even measure that?’

Ace snorted, “You’re telling me! He puts a collar on someone just for eating his tart? He’s the worst, no doubt!” He pointed his spoonful of food at Cater for emphasis on his words. 

You noticed that a male was behind Ace when was in the middle of his statement. He had bright red hair with two cow-licks on his head and gray eyes. What you found adorable, however, was how his tie was tied like a bow and had a little crown on the side of it. The male was crossing his arms with a wide grin on his face. 

His mouth began moving and a smooth voice came out, “Hm? I’m the worst?” The grin grew. 

Cater froze while slowly shifting his eyes to look at Ace and not the new person. Deuce and Trey just froze in shock for this new person to join the conversation. You paused and realized that this was probably the prefect.

You softly sang out, “You're screwed.”

Ace was not perceiving anything at this moment and only continued, “Yeah. Only a tyrant will keep up with those kinda rules. Gimme a break.” He puffed out and drank the rest of his drink in one swish back. 

“Ace...,” Deuce whined, “look behind us!”

Ace shouted, “GEH! Prefect?!” and jumped in his seat.

You could only hope Ace would survive for the rest of the day.

[alexiessan]

The brother you never asked for - One Shot

AO3

@neakco​ asked: "I saw an ask for prompts so I would like to request a sibling Jasonette where Jason is in Paris trying to win a bet with Dick over who can find the best pastries, which is how he finds/meets Marinette. Everything else is open to the freedom of your imagination."

Here is Jasonette Siblings :) 

@justafanwarrior​ @animegirlweeb​

Why was Jason running in the streets of Paris at seven in the evening again?

Ah, right. To win a bet against Dick.

The two oldest adopted children of Bruce Wayne had agreed to accompany their father on a business trip to the French capital. Damian still had school to attend and Tim was to manage the company while the CEO was away.

He didn’t really need any of his children to accompany him, but who would say no to a trip to Paris?

Bruce had a lot of meetings planned for the two weeks trip, and it took only two days for the two men to get bored. Paris wasn’t new for them and they’ve already seen all the touristic spots.

And so, they were just watching some movie in Richard’s hotel room when he had a craving for pastries.

“Let’s go to Ladurée! They have awesome macarons!” the oldest exclaimed, his mouth already watering at the thought of chocolate macaron.

Jason frowned. “Eh, really? It’s overpriced and overrated there.”

“But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s because you didn’t try to find the very best. It’s France, there are bakeries in almost every street. There must be one that makes better pastries than Ladurée.”

La maison Ladurée was a famous bakery in Paris, known for its macarons. Every tourist always ended up going there at one point or another during their stay in Paris.

While their macarons were good, it was too much of a tourist spot for Jason’s taste. There probably was a bakery out there that sold better macarons than the famous Maison Ladurée.

Urgh. Even the name sounded made him want to cringe. Snobbish much, huh?

“Then, let’s find it,” said Dick with a serious voice.

Jason looked away from the TV to face his brother. “Huh?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Get your ass up this couch and let’s go find the best bakery in Paris!”

The second oldest of the Wayne siblings raised an eyebrow. “Do you realize how many bakeries there are in just Paris? We can’t possibly try them all.”

“You’re right. That’s why,” Dick paused, showing Jason his smartphone, “I’ve researched the best bakeries of Paris. I found two lists with a top ten of the best bakeries of Paris, and they don’t have one in common with the other!” he grinned, “so, I suggest we each take a list and try them all, and come back with a box of macarons from the one we thought was best!”

Jason looked at the list. If he tried them all and figured that the best one was one of the first he tried, it would mean going back there to buy a full box of macarons. It would be annoying to go back there again, but doable.

“What does the winner win?” he finally asked.

“Eh… Bragging rights?” at Jason’s expression, he tried again. “We’ll figure it out later.”

“Right. Then, may the best man win.”

They shook hands and were off in a matter of seconds.

This is how Jason found himself in front of the last bakery of the list — the one ranked second in the list, but it was the one the farthest from their hotel, and thus, the last one he tried — hoping it was closed yet. He really hoped this one would be the best because he wouldn’t have the time to go back to one of the other bakeries before closing time.

When he opened the door, he was met with a lot of pink. It was a cute and cozy bakery, making you want to find a seat, drink hot chocolate, and read next to the window while it was raining outside.

At the desk was a teenage girl around Damian’s age — sixteen, seventeen-year-old top — who looked visibly upset over something on her phone. When she heard him enter, she put the phone away, blinked several times to get rid of the tears that had gathered in her eyes, and smiled at him.

“Welcome to Tom et Sabine boulangerie pâtisserie! How can I help you?” she greeted him in French.

Jason made his way to the counter, looking over the different pastries. He glanced at the girl, patiently waiting for his order. She had black hair and blue eyes, half French and half Asian he guessed. She had a smile on her face, and not just a customer one, giving that she was visibly upset when he arrived, but a genuine one.

It made him want to ask her if he had to go and threaten someone, but he didn’t know the girl, and she didn’t know him, and what right did he have to ask?

“I’ll have a chocolate macaron, please,” he answered in French but with a heavy American accent.

She noticed and switched in English, which he was grateful for. He could speak French, but since he didn’t have the opportunity to practice it often, he was a bit rusty in the language.

“Of course, a big one or a small one?”

“A small one, please.”

She put the small macaron on a towel with a clamp and put it on the counter. “It will be one euro, please!”

He thanked her while paying and wasted no time in eating the small treat. The teen girl laughed when she saw him eat it in one bite.

“You know what?” he began after swallowing, deciding that this was the best one he had in his search. “I’ll take a whole box of these. I’ll even take two big ones!”

“Alright! That will be nine euros and fifty cents, please!” she said with a smile before preparing his order.

“Thanks again!” he said while handing her the money. “If the other pastries are as good as the macarons, you’ll see me again.”

She laughed. “I’m not exactly impartial, but the pastries are really, really good! So I guess I’ll see you again.”

He barked a laugh. “You can bet on it then!”

“Have a good night, sir!”

“Thanks!”

When he got back to the hotel room, Dick was already there with his own box of macarons, and they didn’t waist one more second before tasting the other’s finding.

Jason won, of course, and demanded fifty bucks as his reward.

And wasn’t it good to win a bet against his brother.

Just like he said he would, Jason came back to the bakery, with Dick with him. They tried all sorts of pastries, and even some quiches for lunch and everything was delicious. Dick made sure to note the name of the bakery somewhere on his phone so they could come back the next time they would come to Paris.

The teenage girl was still there, managing the desk and talking with the two of them when they stayed a bit longer to enjoy their food.

They learned that her name was Marinette and that she was seventeen — making her Damian’s age, just as Jason thought — and that she was the daughter of the owner. Since it was summer vacations, she helped her parents since they had more clients than ever thanks to tourism.

They learned that she was a fashion designer and that she learned English because of it. Since she wanted to start her own business one day, someone recommended that she learn English if she wanted it to be international. Speaking only one language wouldn’t do well, she explained.

While she was still in school, she had a small customer base already and did everything that needed to be done for it to be legal, and thus, was a freelance in fashion design. She was still in high school, entering her last year in September. She even expressed her desire to go to University in America, in a double major — fashion and business.

They visited the bakery every day for a week, learning to know each other a bit, but never once did she tell them anything that was upsetting her.

And Jason couldn’t help but wonder what could bring such a cheerful and positive girl like Marinette so close to tears.

It was on their last week in Paris that Jason found out.

He was on his way to the bakery to get his daily dose of pastries when he saw Marinette sitting on a bench in the park near her family’s business and home.

And she was crying.

He didn’t think about it as he made his way to Marinette and sat next to her.

“So, tell me, whose butt do I need to kick?”

She almost jumped, not having noticed him.

“God,” she breathed, “you scared me, don’t do that again.”

“My bad,” he apologized. “But tell me, what’s wrong?”

She let out a joyless laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you with my teenage drama.”

He playfully elbowed her. “Now, now. I’ve been a teen too, you know. And I know all about teenage drama. And I know that it’s not just nothing to you, right now. Maybe, later on, you’ll think so, but it matters to you now, so it’s important, you understand?” she nodded. “Just because you’re a teenager, it doesn’t mean your problems are meaningless, alright? I know adults tend to downplay teenager’s problem, but not me.” he ruffled her hair. “Now, tell everything to your big brother.”

She laughed and shoved him playfully. “You’re not my brother!”

“Well, now I am! I’m the brother you never asked for but got anyway. Deal with it.”

She laughed again, and he felt like he succeeded a little in cheering her up. “Alright, ‘big brother’, I’ll talk.”

She took a deep breath before facing him.

“It’s my boyfriend. He canceled on me. Again.” she laughed. “I know I shouldn’t be upset to be stood up, and I wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But I’ve lost count of the times he ditched me for his friends, or for an event that just happened. And I tried to be understanding at first. It’s just… I’m doing everything to make our relationship work. I plan dates, even double dates because I know how much he loves his friends — our friends. But it feels like it’s one sided,” she paused, taking another deep breath. “But I haven’t properly talked to him in months because he keeps standing me up. I just… Does he want to break up with me? Is that what’s he’s trying to do, but is too much of a coward to do it properly? I… I guess I’m just realizing now that we haven’t be fine for months now.”

Jason sighed. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, and what is his reasoning behind his behavior because I don’t know him, but I’ll tell you this: it takes all the people involved in a relationship for it to work. If the other doesn’t put any work in it, it can’t work. It can be fixed, however, but you already tried, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then, since you already try to fix your relationship, you have to ask yourself this question: are you happy with him?”

Tears gathered again in her eyes and she shook her head. “No… No, Jason, I’m not happy anymore.”

He opened his arms, inviting her in a hug, and she immediately threw herself in her arms.

“Then, I think you know what to do.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Marinette stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, I barely know you and I just dumped all my problems on you.”

“Hey, when I said that I was now your brother, I meant it. I take my duties as a big brother very seriously.”

The fashion designer laughed. “What, you just picked people on the street and claimed they are now your sibling or something?”

“No, you’re just special.”

She laughed. “I’m nothing special, but thank you. For listening to me and offering me friendship. I really appreciate it.”

He patted her hair. “Anytime, chouquette.”

They exchanged numbers before parting ways, this time without any pastries with him.

The next morning, Jason received a text from Marinette, stating that she broke up with her boyfriend. He asked for details, and she explained that he has been oblivious to it all and didn’t understand why she was breaking up with him. She said that she gave up on explaining anything and that they were just over.

He and Dick spent the last week at the bakery, trying to cheer Marinette up, which was not as hard as he expected it to be. While Marinette was sad that her relationship was over, she was also relieved. She had been hurt too much, and it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be hurting anymore.

Their two weeks stay unfortunately came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to Marinette.

“Say, what do you think about going to Gotham for university,” he asked her with a grin. “We could see each other much more then.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. Going to the most dangerous city in America. No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

He pouted. “But I would protect you.”

She laughed. “I have no doubt you would, but I think I’ll go to New York. I have an internship offer there than I can do alongside my studies,” she paused. “But hey, Gotham and New York are pretty close, no? We can still see each other.”

“One of my brothers is actually going to university in New York too next year! I’ll tell him to look after you!”

“What?! Come on Jason, I don’t need anyone looking after me!”

“Tutututu! Let your big brother handle it!”

“But you’re not my brother!”

[fiveisnumber1]

The Salon - A Timeless Side Piece

Requested by: Anon

__________________________________

“The nerve of that man. I mean, one thing goes wrong, and he's on a warpath. I mean, doesn't know who I am? No, no. No, Ray, you know exactly who I am. You just can't handle it. I'm protecting him.” Allison complained as she did Klaus’ hair

Klaus looked in the mirror in front of him. He saw his one sister Vanya making finger guns and shooting at bottles of hairspray while the other had a strong look of disdain on her face.

“From what?” he questioned 

Looking in the mirror to make eye contact with Klaus, Allison asserts, “The end of the world, for one.” “Is the world really gonna end in six days?” Vanya questions “Well, it did last time, and we did everything Five could think of to stop it.” Allison recalls

As Allison brings up Five and odd thought pops into his head. Taking a swig from his flask he stands up from the chair he was in and walks to the middle of the salon floor. Vanya turns around in her chair to look at him and Allison takes a seat in the chair he was just in. Looking between his sisters he jokingly asks, “Hey, wouldn't it be weird if Five grew up all hot? Wouldn't that be weird?”

“What?” Vanya asks confused

“He’s young again! Y’know? Once he sheds that academy uniform, stops living solely on coffee and spends some more time around (Y/N), he can change. A little less fucking with the apocalypse and a little more-”

“Klaus!” Allison exclaims before he can finish

“What? I didn’t mean it like that...” Klaus defends before adding “Entirely...”

“Eww.” Allison comments repulsed

“Oh! ‘Eww! Eww!’ Please, Miss "Luther was my lover." Klaus mocks “We have never even kissed.” Allison retorts “Yeah, but you guys were making little sick moon-dog eyes at each other all through puberty and breakfasts and all that.”

“Uh- well- Five and (Y/N) did the same thing when we were kids!” Allison replies trying to redirect the conversation

“Aren't we all brothers and sisters?” Vanya inquires

“Nope, (Y/N) isn’t our sibling, but Allison and Luther are!” Klaus replies “Okay, I mean... technically...” Allison attempts to justify “Technically? If you have to use the word "technically," you're already in trouble.” Klaus explains “Okay, can- can we focus? I mean, clearly we're not saving the world tonight, but maybe, maybe, we could at least try to save my marriage.” Allison suggests “No! That's like...that's like asking a nun how to hump someone's leg. I mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships?” Klaus exclaims “This one? In secret love with some farm Frau.” “Her name's Sissy.” Vanya corrects

“Which is an improvement on her previous love interest, the serial killer.” Klaus adds

“Huh?” Vanya says

“Meanwhile, I'm carrying a torch for a soldier I haven't technically met yet, and Luther is in love with his sister.” Klaus continues

“Okay, again, we are not biological.” Allison replies “Face it, the healthiest long-term relationship in this family is Five and (Y/N) and they’ve been dating in person for...” Klaus stops to count on his fingers “seven days. The only thing the Umbrella Academy knows about love is how to screw it up.”

“Well then count Five in that. He screwed up love too!” Allison demands

“Allison I get that you still have lingering jealousy of them getting to have some form happily ever after and you can’t with Luther-” Klaus starts

“I- I do not! Allison protests

“Uh-buh-buh!” Klaus interrupts to continue his statement “BUT he screwed up his life, not his love life. She waited years for him and knowing how he felt about her before he ran away he probably fought tooth and nail for those 45 or whatever years in that apocalypse. Just for her.”

Allison purses her lips and looks off to the side letting out a little huff. Surprisingly, Klaus was right for once but she still didn’t like it.

“Oh so they’re dating? I was wondering who she was. They seem very close for people who started dating only a week ago.” Vanya says

Klaus and Allison looked at each other. They had forgotten that Vanya lost her memory. They knew she did but it was moments like these that truly reminded them.

“Vanya, they’ve been in love since we were kids.” Allison states

Vanya’s eyes go wide with shock. They knew her when they were kids?

“What?” She asks

“Yeah and they were so cute and not weird about it at all.” Klaus comments, a smirk on his face as he uses his head to gesture towards Allison

Vanya smiles and chuckles a little at Klaus’ comment. Allison shoots him a look before turning back to Vanya and explaining,

“Yeah. We don’t know when and how they met but they were inseparable. Always by each others side and just so enthralled with each other. Too nervous to say anything about it but everyone knew they only had eyes for each other.”

“When she was around he was actually kind of nice too.” Klaus states

“And he was so fun to tease. He’d turn so red and get so flustered.” Allison reminisces 

“Well maybe our situations will turn out as nicely as theirs” Vanya encourages

“One can only wish.” Klaus retorts

“It’s not impossible!” Vanya replies

“They are a once in a lifetime type of love. We’ll be lucky if our situations even come close to that.” Allison states

“Well then lets hope we can get close.” Vanya says with a smile

Klaus lifts his flask up and toasts,

“To getting close.”

“To getting close.” Vanya and Allison reply

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 20

December 19th - Part 2

It was a beautiful day at the Christmas Festival. It was held in a closed off chunk of downtown. Every year, with all the fun and activities, it kept growing bigger and bigger. 

What started as a group of seven changed as they made their way around the festival grounds. The boys found their friends and drifted away. 

Jasmine, Serena and DeeDee led the charge while Marquis and Erik just followed. They had just finished decorating ornaments and putting them on one of the Christmas trees. There was still time before the big tree in the Center was lit, so they decided to go on a few rides. They headed down Main street and walked toward the Ferris Wheel.

“So, peppermint hot chocolate anyone?” Serena bumped DeeDee’s shoulder. “Who wants some?”

“Uh sure, I could go for some.” DeeDee said. 

“Can I get a coffee instead?” Erik asked, “And maybe some cookies.” 

“Yeah, we’ll go get it.” Serena grabbed DeeDee. “Ya’ll go get in line.”

“Here baby,” Marquis folded some money into Serena’s other hand. “We’ll take Jazzie.”  

“Thank you dear.” 

Jasmine reached out for Erik and DeeDee, who was holding her, handed her over. He lightly squeezed DeeDee’s hand before lifting Jasmine out of her arms.

“We’ll be back.” She mumbled as Serena dragged her away.

---

DeeDee walked quietly beside Serena. They approached the hot chocolate stand and waited in line. 

“Breathe girl, it’s not that serious.” Serena tapped her arm with the money.

“I don’t know what you are gonna ask and it’s making me nervous.”

“Fine. I want to know about your connection to Dr. Stevens. Whatever you want to share. Take your time.” 

“I like him.” DeeDee blurted out.

“Yeah, that’s a given. You are just as smiley around him as Jazzie is.”

“Reena, how did you know you were in love with Marquis?”

Serena stared at her, “Wow, I was not expecting that.” They got up to the front. “Hold that thought.” 

Serena placed the order and linked DeeDee’s arms with hers. They moved to the side and waited for their names to be called. 

“Love, huh?”

“I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.” DeeDee sighed. “I mean you know him. Can you blame me?” 

“I do know him but clearly not in the way you do.” Serena tugged on DeeDee’s arm, “What do you think about him?”

“Do you know how I found him?”

“You mean how you told Quis that you found one of his articles while doing some last minute research for your dissertation?” 

DeeDee nodded and laughed.

“Or the real one, where you found his note about the kind of love he wanted in life?” Serena smiled at DeeDee’s shocked expression.

“He told Marquis about that?”

“Yeah, he did, eventually.”

“So, then Marquis knew about me and him talking and stuff?”

“Yeah, but not before he gave you his book.” Serena shook her head, “Men.”

Their order was called and they walked over to the toppings table. 

While DeeDee added crushed candy canes to her and Jazzie’s hot chocolate, Serena popped the top to Erik’s coffee. 

“Oh, you can put that back on. He likes it black.”

“Does he now?” Serena put the top back on it and sat it down in front of DeeDee, “The Erik I knew drowned his coffee in sugar.”

“That’s what the cookies are for.” DeeDee put the top back on her drink and took a sip, “I mean, I guess.”

“Nah, say it with your chest.” Serena bumped her, “You know how your man likes his drink.”

“He’s not my man.” 

“Yet.” 

They grabbed all the drinks and the bag of cookies, then made their way to the Ferris Wheel. 

“Look, you asked how I knew Marquis was it for me. It was the way he made me feel. He became my best friend and supported me in everything. There was never a moment where I had to question his feelings for me. He showed me and made sure I knew it. So, when I fell, I never once looked back.”

Serena stopped DeeDee short of where the others waited for them.

“Do not fight your feelings, DeeDee. If you feel strongly for him. You should let him know. He’ll tell you he feels the same way or let you go, so you can find someone who deserves it.”

“I’m afraid, Serena. I’ve never felt this way before.” 

“And I bet you can tell him that, too.” 

Marquis walked over to them, “Let me help with that.” He took a drink and the cookies from them.

“Thanks Marquis.”

“No problem.” He held his arm out for Serena to latch onto.

“You’ll find your way hun.” She linked her arm with Marquis’. 

DeeDee followed behind them as Marquis led them to the line.

“Quis, this isn’t for the Ferris Wheel.” Serena spoke up.

“Yeah, Jazzie saw that they were doing boat rides and wanted to go on one instead.”

They both looked at him.

“You know her Godfather couldn’t say no to his princess.” He mocked.

All three laughed as they approached Erik and Jazzie in line.

---

“Did you add the candy canes?” Jasmine took the cup offered from DeeDee.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be our peppermint hot chocolate without them.”

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome dear.” 

Jasmine walked up towards her parents. 

DeeDee handed Erik his coffee. “Here you go, Uncle E.”

“Thank you, Miss DeeDee.” He took a sip, “Black. How did you know?”

“I pay attention.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“To the little things.” He looked at her, “I like that.” 

“Do you want a cookie, Uncle E?” Jasmine turned around with the bag in her hands.

“Yes, please. Do you have any snickerdoodles in there?” 

“I think so.” She looked at DeeDee, “Is there?”

“Yes, there should be a few. Let’s find them for him.” 

Jasmine rolled down the paper bag and DeeDee pointed at a couple on the top. 

“How many did you want?”

“Can I get 3?”

Jasmine took a napkin and picked up the cookies, “Here you go.” She looked at DeeDee. “You want one?”    

“No, thank you sweetheart.”

--- 

They got on the boat. Serena and Marquis on one side and Jasmine, DeeDee and Erik facing them from the other end. Jasmine wanted to be close to Erik, so she sat in between them.

5 minutes riding up the lake along the swampbed, and Jasmine was out. She leaned up against Erik who moved her head to his lap and DeeDee raised her legs to lie across her own. 

“I hate that they make it look so natural.” Serena loudly whispered to Marquis.

“Right, like it was a no-brainer to lay her completely flat instead of up against him.”

“Stop that.” Erik spoke up.

“What? We’re just making an observation.” Marquis said.

 “Exactly. It took us 3 kids to do what you two just naturally did.” Serena huffed.

“Anything you want to tell us. Either of you?”

“Yeah, you got some kids we don’t know about?” Marquis and Serena started to laugh. 

“Will you two just enjoy the ride?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be making this much noise if she was awake.” DeeDee whispered across to them.

“Sure, we would.” They said in unison.

Erik looked over at DeeDee. “Are you having fun?”

“I am. It’s nice to have someone to share Jazzie duties with. She can be quite the handful.” DeeDee gently rubbed her back as the boat picked up speed. 

“No problem. I definitely don’t get to see her like I should.”

“Oh, when was the last time you saw her?”

“She was two and they came to visit me in Cali.”

“Ahhh, so this visit was long overdue then?”

Erik grabbed DeeDee’s hand, “Do not try to downplay things, DeeDee.”

DeeDee just sighed. 

“I think I would have met you this week, all things considered.”

“How do you figure that?” DeeDee looked at Erik. 

“Clearly, I have a relationship with multiple people in your life.” He stroked his finger across the palm of her hand. “Marquis and his family, the chemistry faculty and your great-grandmother.”

“I guess, you have a point. Those are three of the most important parts of my life right now.”

“Besides, we share a goddaughter.” He lifted her hand to his lips, “It’s like we already have a child together.” 

DeeDee exploded with giggles and immediately covered her mouth, so as not to wake up Jazzie. The little girl didn’t budge after the outburst but all the adults broke into laughter.

“I take back everything I said.” Serena looked at DeeDee. “I had such high hopes for you.”

DeeDee shook her head, “I blame him.” She poked Erik in the chest.

“I didn’t do anything.” He tried to appear shocked and appalled.

“E, what did you just tell her?” Marquis asked.

“I may have said something about us basically having a child together.” He reached back over for DeeDee’s hand. 

“Oh, that’s real classy Erik. No wonder she laughed at you.” Serena slapped Marquis who started laughing again.

“Oh, it landed as it should. I have no doubt about that.” He kissed her hand again.

DeeDee shivered as she watched his eyes smolder. 

---

When they got off the boat, Erik carried Jasmine on his right side and held DeeDee’s left hand. 

The boys were waiting for all of them at the exit ramp. They texted Marquis and Serena while they were still on the water. 

They headed over to where the big Christmas tree lighting was. Jasmine stayed asleep the whole time, clinging to Erik as he held her. 

The group was leaving the festival when DeeDee remembered that she hadn’t taken many pictures with her camera.

She asked Serena to take some random shots, and she was all too happy to take a picture of the Godfamily as well. 

“You have a beautiful family, man.” A passerby clapped Erik on the back while they set up for the picture. 

Erik squeezed DeeDee’s hand when she looked away. He released it and brought her into his side. 

Serena took the picture along with a few more of their interactions on the way back to the cars. 

---

Erik helped DeeDee out of the car and went to get Jasmine out of her carseat. He gave her a kiss on the forehead before he handed her over to Marquis. 

They said their goodbyes outside and then it was just Erik and DeeDee outside. He learned on the passenger side of his rental and DeeDee stood next to her driver’s side door.

“Did you have fun today?” DeeDee asked him. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I have attended one of those. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

“I bet it is much bigger than you remember.”

“It is, I never would have imagined boats as part of it, but that was a nice addition this year.” 

“Yeah, I liked it.” She stepped closer to him. “Erik, what are you doing for Christmas since you’ll be here?”

“I haven’t made any plans yet. Why?”

“Would you like to spend it with me and my family?”

Erik stood up and reached for her hands, “I would love that.”

Taglist: @teakturn​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shaekingshitup​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ladymac82​ @bugngiz​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​ @killmonger-fics​ @beautifullmelodyxx​ @raysunshine78​ @fd-writes​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @just-peachee​ @kaleidoscopeofsoul​ @sincerelykas​

[madasthesea]

Love, hate on

By @madasthesea for @the-dust-of-stars

Part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Original Female Villain, Original Male Villains

Summary: She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. An eye for an eye, a child for a child.

Mara Shepherd crouched silently in the back of a gray van, eyes fixed on the surveillance footage playing on the little laptop screen in front of her. Any minute now, Tony Stark would be walking past her van.

She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

He appeared on screen, his goatee making him instantly recognizable even on the pixelated screen.

“Go,” she barked to Elliot and Greg, the two henchmen she’d coerced into helping her. People who hated Tony Stark were in no short supply.

The van doors snapped open and the two men leaped out, one with a black bag at the ready, the other with a baseball bat. Mara stayed in the van and watched.

Stark jumped into action immediately, throwing a right hook at Greg’s face that caught him square on the jaw.

“Hey!” A young voice shouted, and Mara looked up to see a teenage boy only a few paces behind Stark. He, too, darted forward, his fists balled as if he was ready to fight.

“No, kid,” Stark gasped, trying to shake off Elliot’s grasp on his arms. Greg came back into the fray, his baseball bat prepped. “Look out,” Stark yelled, his voice strained as Greg swung at the unsuspecting teen, who was trying to pry Elliot off of Tony.

The kid managed to duck the first swing, whirling with wide eyes to see his attacker, but he wasn’t ready for Elliot to drop Stark like a sack of potatoes, grab the kid by the back of the shirt, and throw him into the side of van. He connected head first and slid to the ground, blinking dizzily.

“Mr. Stark,” the boy said, trying to stand up.

“Just bring the kid,” Mara snapped, very aware that someone might come around the corner any second.

Elliot grabbed the bat from Greg’s hand, swung, and connected. The kid went limp in the gutter.

“No!” Stark shouted, his voice hoarse. Greg took the opportunity to punch Tony in the temple, making him crumple to the pavement. The bag went over his head, the men collected their prizes, and they were back in the van, hurtling away from the scene.

Mara had bought the storage unit ten months ago. The company had since gone out of business, but she’d made copies of the key, came back regularly to make sure she could still access it. It was the perfect place for an execution.

She had Greg and Elliot set the two up in chairs facing each other, tightly bound with zipties. Then they all sat back and waited.

She didn’t know what to do about the kid. As far as she knew, he was just a passerby who’d recognized Iron Man and wanted to be his hero’s hero. Not necessarily a condemnation, but now that he was here, a witness to her crime, she couldn’t just let him go. It was a complication, and she spent the quiet minutes puzzling out what to do to fix it.

Stark started coming around first, squinting at the three of them in the bad fluorescent lighting, and cursing emphatically. Then he saw the teenager sitting across from him and his expression fell into something serious and angry.

The kid groaned only a couple seconds later and Mara watched as Stark’s attention immediately snapped toward him.

“Hey, kid. Kid.” The boy looked up, blinking blearily and seemed to struggle to locate Stark. Maybe Elliot had been a little more aggressive than she’d thought. When he did, they stared at each other for a long minute, as if having a silent conversation.

“You ok?” Stark finally asked.

“Um, I guess. What—what’s going on?”

“Just some people without any manners wanted a chat with me. But we’ll be on our way to lunch any minute, don’t worry, kid.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Mara purred. Stark glanced at her, sizing her up quickly, just like he’d done with Elliot and Greg. “Cute kid, Stark. Is he yours?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “No. Some new intern. Great first day on the job, huh, bud?”

The kid gave a nervous laugh, craning his head to look at Elliot in the shadows.

“N-not quite what I expected for an orientation, Mr. Stark.” The boy closed his eyes as if in pain and Mara wondered again how hard Elliot had hit him. Stark seemed to notice as well.

She stepped back, watching as Tony eyed the kid up and down. His lips were pursed, his eyes dark. Perhaps it was merely impersonal concern—he was a supposed hero, and protecting innocent children was in the job description, even if he was a failure most of the time. But there was something familiar in it, an ingrained worry that was routine, habitual. She was a parent, too, she knew what to look for.

Stark may say he’d only met the kid today, but he was nothing if not a liar. She knew better than to believe him.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. This wasn’t a complication, it was an opportunity.

Mara smirked, and sauntered towards the kid.

“Well, look at you,” she purred, reaching out and caressing the boy’s face before tilting his jaw up. Stark watched, emotionless.

The boy looked up at her, brown puppy dog eyes on full display. She could feel his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently.

The boy’s eyes darted toward Stark, then back. He shook his head minutely.

“No?” Mara asked, rounding the chair so she was behind the kid. She smiled at Stark, then grabbed a fistful of dark curls and yanked the boy’s head backward. A muscle in Stark’s jaw jumped. “How about now?”

“N—”

She cut the kid off. “Not asking you, sweetie. Tell me, Stark. What’s his name?”

Tony exhaled in a rush. “I don’t remember.”

Mara slapped the boy across the face. The smack echoed for a moment of shock before Stark strained against his bonds, a barely contained snarl of rage turning his mouth for a heartbeat before he schooled himself.

“Don’t make me hit him again,” she warned softly. “Just tell me his name.”

“I barely even know him,” Tony snapped, rolling his eyes.

Mara ground her teeth, quickly losing her patience. As if she couldn’t tell, as if the love Stark had for this boy wasn’t written in every line on his face.

The kid glared at her as she turned to him, sighing heavily. She backhanded him and his head snapped to the side, a red mark already forming on his pale face. When he turned back to her, his eyes were burning with anger. She stared back for a moment, memorizing the color of his irises. It was a pity he had to die; he really was a cute kid.

She turned back to Stark. “His name,” she said coolly.

“I don’t—”

“Stop lying!” Mara screamed, her hands clenched in fists at her side. She wanted to tear him apart, she wanted to see him bleed, but she knew his type. Physical pain meant nothing to him, to his pride. He would never break for his own sake. And now that the possibility has presented itself, she didn’t just want to see him dead. She wanted to see him broken.

She stepped forward until she towered over Stark, until she can lean forward and grab his face in her hand, her nails digging into his jaw.

“You think I can’t see the fear in your eyes, Stark? I’ve felt that fear. I’ve lived it. And it was your fault.”

She took a shuttering breath. Tony looked up at her, a terrible understanding in his eyes.

“And guess what,” she whispered, bending low and tightening her hold on him. “Losing him will be worse than you ever imagined.”

Tony thrashed against her hold, a snarl caught in his throat.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She stepped aside, just enough to let Stark see Elliot pulling a knife on the kid.

Tony stilled instantly, uncaring of the bruising grip Mara still had on his face. She yanked his face back around to her, but he still glanced back to the kid every second.

“Now tell me what his name is and I might make it quick,” she said.  

Stark’s glare was so icy, Mara nearly shivered. She covered it up by stepping away, back toward the kid. She cast a glance at Elliot and he lowered the knife to the boy’s throat.

“Well?”

Tony hesitated for another half-second, then his shoulders slumped. “Peter,” he finally murmured.

Peter watched Tony, waited until the man looked up, and gave him a reassuring smile that reflected, distorted, off the knife under his chin.

Tony just looked heartbroken.

Mara took a deep breath and forced the memory of her daughter’s smile from her mind.

“Peter,” she repeated, nodding. Peter looked up at her, defiant. She circled his chair slowly and he turned his head to keep her in his sight as much as possible.

“Do you want to know what my daughter’s name was, Peter?”

“Yes.”

“Eliza,” Mara sighed, closing her eyes as she savored the name. “My little ‘Liza. She was seven when she died.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it, and she regretted again that the only way to get through to Stark was to kill his kid.

“Do you know what happened to her?”

Peter shook his head.

“He happened.” She let all of the anger and hatred she’d felt in the last two and a half years come to the surface, let it burn behind her eyes as she turned to the man that had cost her everything.

“Do you remember August 9, 2015, Stark?”

Tony looked up at her, thinking for a moment.

“There was a break-in. At the tower,” Tony finally said. “We caught them before they could take anything. They shot their way out. Four injuries, two deaths.”

The way he rattled the information off like they were statistics, like those weren’t real people made Mara’s blood boil.

“Yes,” Mara snarled. “My daughter and I were in Midtown that day. Running errands. She wanted to see Avengers Tower, to see where her heroes lived. And then she got shot and in the panic someone knocked me over. By the time I got to her she was already gone.” Her voice broke.

Stark’s expression was pinched.

“I remember,” he whispered. “I offered to pay for the funeral and you refused.”

“I don’t want your money,” Mara yelled. “I needed your help! You were there and you didn’t help!”

“I was trying to stop them from hurting anyone else. I didn’t notice in time. I’m sorry.”

“Save your useless apology, Stark. It’s two and a half years too late.”    

“Then why am I here?” Tony asked, his voice resigned, like he knew that she wanted him dead. But she wanted more than that, too, and that hadn’t occurred to him yet.

“You are here,” she hissed, “to watch.”

His face fell, his eyes flicking to Peter. His heart started beating so hard she could see his pulse in his throat.

“No.”

Peter’s eyes went wide at the guttural denial that ripped out of Tony’s throat. He looked at Mara and she watched the comprehension dawn on his face as well.

“Oh,” he mouthed, his face very pale.

“No, please,” Stark begged, straining against his bonds. “Please, he has nothing to do with that, we hadn’t even met yet, he—”

“You love him,” Mara interrupted. “That’s all that matters.”

“Please, just kill me,” Tony whispered, looking up at her with a desperation on his face that she knew only too well.

“Oh, I’ll get to that,” she assured him. “You think I’m not going to kill the man that killed my baby girl? But first you have to feel it, Stark. The grief. The agony. You have to know what it feels like to watch your child bleed out in front of you.”

“Ma’am,” Peter said quietly. She turned to look at him. “I’m so sorry about your daughter. But... but that wasn’t Mr. Stark’s fault. He would never let anyone die if he could help them.”

“He’s a weapons developer,” Mara scoffed.

“He isn’t anymore,” Peter argued, shaking his head. “Besides, revenge won’t make you feel better. And it won’t bring Eliza back.”

Sighing, Mara leaned over him. She reached out to brush his bangs off his forehead, but he pulled away, looking affronted.

“My daughter deserves vengeance,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I do,” Peter insisted, looking up at her pleadingly. “My uncle was killed in front of me. And I had the chance to go after his killer, but I didn’t. You can choose not to, too. Right now. You haven’t hurt anyone yet.”

Mara shook her head. “It’s not the same. I am sorry he brought you into this.”

“You brought me into this,” Peter snapped, any forgiveness gone from his features. Mara hummed, then turned back to Tony, who’d watched the exchange in silent panic.

“I’m not a complete monster,” she told him. “Elliot is a very good shot. It will be painless for him.”

Tony made a choked noise, clenching his hands around the armrest of the chair. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“I’ll even give you what I never had, Stark. I’ll give you time to say goodbye.”

Mara nodded to Elliot and Greg where they were lurking in the corner and they each stepped forward to undo the bindings holding Peter and Stark in place. The second they were loose, they both instantly spilled forward onto their knees.

Peter crashed into Tony, tucking himself under Tony’s chin and clutching at his t-shirt. Tony responded in kind, putting a hand on the back of Peter’s head and holding him close, his hand threading carefully through the boy’s dark curls, avoiding where the bat had connected earlier.  

The safety of a gun clicking off made them both look up—Tony’s arms tightened protectively around Peter, his expression fierce as he saw the gun Elliot was now pointing at Peter’s head.

“Just in case you get any ideas of trying something,” Mara said simply. She knew better than to underestimate Tony Stark.

Tony glared at her for a second, then ducked his head, his attention focused solely on the child in his arms again.

“Peter,” she heard him murmur, his voice low. She listened closely as words poured out of him, quick and desperate. “Pete, I don’t know what to do, I don’t—I’ve got nothing, kid, I—”

Peter cut him off, but his voice was so low and muffled by Tony’s shoulder that Mara couldn’t hear. She watched Tony’s face as he buried his face in Peter’s hair, his expression pinched in a pain that she knew intimately. The pain of losing a child was something you never recovered from. Not that Stark would live long enough to realize that.

They continued talking for a moment, the words lost to Mara. Peter nodded almost frantically as Tony whispered to him, his hand still cradling Peter’s head.

“Time’s up, Stark,” she finally snapped, her chest aching with want as she thought about hugging her daughter.

“No. No, no,” Tony gasped, capturing Peter’s face in his hands as Elliot and Greg stepped forward. He pressed their foreheads together, crowding impossibly closer to the boy.

“It’ll be ok,” Peter whispered. He wrapped his hands around Tony’s wrists.

Mara’s heart beat faster, her blood racing hot through her veins. She was so close. At her word, Tony Stark would watch the child he loved die, just like she had. Her Liza had been feet from her as she took her last breath. She’d watched the light fade from her daughters eyes just as she’d watched those eyes open for the first time.

And Stark had been there, mere yards away, and had done nothing. And now she would stand and do nothing as his boy bled out in front of him, even if the loss of his life pained her. An eye for an eye, a child for a child. There was no other way.

Elliot seized Peter’s collar while Greg wrapped an arm around Stark’s throat, effectively holding him still.

“No!” Stark screamed, clawing at Greg. “Don’t touch him!”

Elliot dragged Peter a few feet away, kicking the boy’s legs out from under him when he tried to struggle to his feet.

“Hey!” Tony snarled as Peter growled, still fighting against Elliot’s hold. Elliot used the handle of the gun to hit the back of Peter’s head, making him collapse, crying out in pain. “Stop!”

“Elliot,” Mara said. The man dutifully wrangled the kid onto his knees, facing Stark. He held his gun to the back of Peter’s head.

Tony was practically hyperventilating. “Oh, go—Please,” he panted. “Please, no. Please just kill me. Please, please, I’m sorry.” Tears dripped down his cheeks as he watched, helpless.

Elliot pulled the hammer of the gun back, the click of it echoing oddly loudly in the concrete room.

“Tony,” Peter said. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the kid, agony written all over his features.

Against all of Mara’s expectations, Peter smiled, his eyes bright. His voice was steady when he spoke. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Peter,” Tony breathed. Elliot put his finger on the trigger.

And then Peter was moving, faster than Mara had ever seen anyone move. He threw himself backward, throwing one hand up and shoving the gun toward the ceiling in the same motion. The crack of it firing was deafening and Mara cried out as a chunk of concrete fell toward the floor from where the bullet hit.  

A heartbeat later, Tony was throwing Greg over his shoulder, twisting his arm behind his back until it was ready to snap.

Peter spun to his feet in a flash and threw a single punch at Elliot, catching him on the jaw. The man fell to the floor and didn’t move.

Mara backed up to the wall, heart pounding. She hadn’t realized... Stark hadn’t been in his suit, and he was older, but she’d taken precautions. She’d been so careful.  She’d known better than to underestimate him, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind that the kid, who was small and thin and fragile, could ever pose a threat to her plans.

Tony quickly frisked Greg, found his gun, and pistol-whipped him. He, too, went limp, instantly unconscious. Then he turned toward her, the gun still in his hand.

“Tony, you ok?” Peter panted, rolling Elliot over and checking his pulse.

“Will be in a minute, kid,” Tony said, his voice low. Peter looked up and watched him stalk forward, his eyes going wide.

“Tony.”

Tony raised the muzzle to directly between Mara’s eyes.

“You said you’d kill the person that killed your kid,” Tony hissed. “What makes you think I won’t do the same?”

Mara swallowed, her eyes flicking between the barrel of the gun and Stark’s face. His expression was totally blank, but his eyes were lit with a furious fire that sent shivers up her spine.

“I-I,” she stammered, unsure how to tell Stark that she had been relying on his grief to incapacitate him. She’d been assuming that he wouldn’t care about dying when his kid was a corpse in front of him.

And, if she’s honest with herself, she’d been relying on his sense of honor. She’d known that even with her planning and contingencies, there was no way she could guarantee she would succeed. The risk had been worth it, but if something had gone wrong, she had assumed that he would never willingly kill someone, that he would never hold a gun to someone’s head out of anger. She didn’t know how to say that despite thinking he was a villain, she’d expected him to act like a hero.

“You held a gun to a sixteen-year-old’s head and told yourself you were giving your daughter justice. But if you had succeeded, all you would have done was kill an innocent child.”

“And what about you?” she snapped back. “What are you doing right now?”

“You’re not a child,” Tony said coolly, his finger on the trigger. “And you’re certainly not innocent.”

Mara sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and prepared to see her daughter again.

“Mr. Stark.”

Her eyes snapped open to see not the cold barrel of a gun, but Peter’s back.

“Come on,” Peter said softly.

Mara risked leaning just far enough to see Tony’s face soften, his eyes lose their fire.

Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half-hearted, crooked smile. He quickly lowered the gun, showing Peter the side of it.

“Safety’s still on, kid.”

Peter’s shoulders loosened. “Oh.”

“Come here, Pete.” Tony bent and dropped the gun on the ground at his feet, then kicked it away, almost like a peace offering to Peter. As soon as the gun was a few feet away, Peter dove forward and was engulfed in a tight hug. Mara slid to the floor, legs numb from adrenaline.

“You did great, buddy,” Tony muttered, keeping an eye on Mara as he ran a hand over Peter’s back as if to check for injuries. “No extra points for the dramatic flair, though.”

“You’re one to talk,” Peter scoffed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you crying.”

Tony sniffed, squeezing the back of Peter’s neck as he pulled back. “Yeah, well. I’m never going to get the picture of you with a gun to your head out of my mind. Like I needed more nightmare fuel.”

Mara couldn’t see Peter’s face, but his voice was bashful. “Sorry.”

Tony pushed the bangs back from Peter’s forehead in a display of gentility she’d never expected him to possess.

She couldn’t stand it.

“No!” She screamed. They both jumped like they’d almost forgotten she was there. “No!” Tears burned in her eyes and spilled over. “You were supposed to die! You were supposed to understand what you did to me. My baby is gone. You needed to lose yours.”

Tony scowled down at her.  

“I didn’t kill your daughter,” he said. Then he glanced at Peter and his face softened. “But I understand wanting to do anything to bring justice for your child. I am sorry.”

Mara spat at him. Peter looked indignant, but Tony just sighed, pulling him away and using Elliot’s phone to call 911. Feeling as if she’d lost her Eliza all over again, Mara just curled in the corner and wept while they waited for the police to come and arrest her.

Peter and Tony watched her be put into the police car, her hands cuffed. As the car drove away, she saw Stark pull Peter into his side and kiss his temple, his eyes closed as he held the boy close.

She’d known from the second she’d seen them together that Peter was more than the intern Tony pretended he was. It was obvious in the way they looked at each other, protected each other. She’d seen, and others would too. Tony Stark might still get the punishment he deserved. Even if she wasn’t the one giving it.

[zacc-attacc]

Firstly - I really love good puns, so your username made my day xD

Then, for your request thing - would you maybe write a Sprace OneShot that plays in the canon era? Maybe some sort of friends-to-lovers thing?

Thanks :)

First of all, thank you for the request! And for the compliment, of course.

ANYWAYS, HISTORICAL SPRACE, HERE WE GO BABS.

Sweet-Talker- A Historical Sprace Fic

Word Count: 2k

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Period. Especially with a boy. I was Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn. Not some blithering idiot who brings flowers to some idiot boy halfway across New York. I had made a pledge, not only to myself but to the others. I was responsible for them. 

So why was I falling for a stupid blond Manhattan boy with an addiction to soggy cigars?

I still remember the first time I saw him-- on a pape I was selling to a regular buyer. It was just a black and white picture, which hardly did any justice to how handsome he was in color. But even among 20 or so other newsboys, I felt a flutter in my stomach when I looked into his eyes. 

Disgusting, I thought as I sold the paper. Is this what the boys were talking about? Sparks flying and all that sappy shit?

If I had been smart, I would’ve sold all my papes and kept my distance from the strike. From Cigar Boy. 

Brooklyn don’t get caught up in things that ain’t our deal, I reminded myself. 

But Race, as I learned later, tends to bring out the worst in me. So I did the dumb thing. I sold all but one of my papes (I couldn’t bring myself to just… Give him away like that. For what? A penny?) and ran to Manhattan. 

Where it was a full-blown war. Pulitzer had called in dozens of goons (but, of course, couldn’t be bothered to show up himself), an army of policemen, and the only cop the newsboys truly feared-- Snyder. The only man who had succeeded in locking up the two most resilient Newsies of New York- Jack Kelly, and yours truly. 

I watched in horror as bottles were thrown, teenage boys were hit by adults, even a smaller boy who needed a crutch to walk was beaten with his own crutch. And I knew I couldn’t do the smart thing, the Brooklyn thing ever again. Not for this.

I ran to join my brethren, letting myself give in to the adrenaline of a battle. Luckily for me, most people were too lost in the chaos to notice me. 

All except for one. 

As cops ran, chasing boys as if they were prey that they would likely never catch, who other than Cigar Boy walked over to me, spitting blood out of his mouth and extending his hand for a handshake. 

“Well, well, well, to whats do we owe the pleasure of Spot Conlon of Brooklyn?” He said, giving me a tired grin. He didn’t have a cigar between his lips, but he did have one sticking out of his pocket. I shook his hand, noticing that even after he had literally been beaten up for an hour plus, his handshake was firm. 

“Okay there, Sluggo, we’ll talk when you ain’t bleeding from the head,” I said gruffly, turning and starting to walk back towards Brooklyn. If I could convince the boys, we could come back later and tell Manhattan we were joining the strike. 

“The lodge is this was,” the boy pointed to the opposite direction of where I was heading. I gave a light laugh. 

“No, no. I’s best get goin’ so you’s can patch up.” 

“There ain’t no way I’s letting you walk halfway across New York after getting beaten up,” the boy protested, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the lodge. 

“I’ve been through worse,” I protested, attempting to dislodge my arm from his grasp. 

“Well, ya’int goin’ through that again. Now c’mon. We has some bandages back at the lodge for that cut of yours,” he said, gesturing to the deep cut in my upper arm. I sighed in defeat and started walking. 

“Just so you know… This is just to make sure yous don’t pass out in the streets on the way there,” I clarified. The boy just rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“For New York’s most feared Newsie, you sure is worried about someone you just met today.”

“I’m feared, but I an’t heartless, sweet-talker. I don’t want another life on my conscience.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. What kind of monster did he think I was? Race stopped walking. I looked up and saw a complex setup of fire escapes, rails, and a rooftop where a newsboy who could only be Jack Kelly was pacing.

“Fair enough. Well, we’s here… So I’s just gonna swing up, grab my stuff, I can meet you down here,” the boy said, grabbing onto some rungs of a fire escape and climbing up with surprising nimbleness. It was as if the battle had barely affected him. That, or he was still riding the adrenaline rush. 

“No, no. Take care of your boys. I won’t die,” I said, hearing the panic in my tone. If Jack saw me with no reinforcements, he’d start to think we were fully on board. And if Brooklyn wasn’t, and word got around that I had already fought… It wouldn’t be good. They would accuse me of being a traitor. I couldn’t risk that.

“Ey, no, that wasn’t part of our agreement!” he yelled as I walked away. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Next time, have me shake on it, sweet-talker!” I shouted back, turning around to see his impish grin. My muscles were screaming in protest from overuse, but I had to get home before dark. 

“The name’s Racetrack Higgins!” was the last I heard before breaking into a sprint. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And here we are now. Strike over, prices back, nobody dead, everyone happy.

Except for me. 

Because I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, but here it came. Striding down the hill with a cigar in its mouth.

I could feel the unease in the boys beside me. We weren’t used to soloing Newsboys in our area, barely after selling hours, no less. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” I muttered to them, walking towards Race. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here,” I hissed, grabbing his shoulders and fake-shoving him to look like I was giving him a serious talking-to. He couldn’t know we knew each other. It had to look like we were fighting.

“Well, Conlon, I thought we’d had a moment there,” Race whisper-shouted back, shoving me as well. I lowered my voice to an even quieter tone. 

“Meet me in your alleyway after sundown.”

He looked at me, confusion on his face, but nodded numbly and ran away. 

I heaved a sigh and turned to go spin some fake tale about why he was there.

That boy is going to be the death of me.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Why’d you chase me out like that, Conlon?” Race asked, leaning against the brick wall of the Newsboy lodge. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. 

I hated it. 

“Because, Higgins, the boys don’t like strange Manhattan Newsies on our turf,” I half-spat. How stupid could he get? Didn’t he understand what was at stake here?

“You’re mad at me,” he said, his eyes flashing with realization. 

“Yeah, no shit,” I muttered, starting to pace. This was a bad idea. Why did I keep letting myself come back to him? Why was I constantly subjecting myself to the one thing I couldn’t have?

“Why? I just wanted to see you again,” he protested, walking towards me. I turned around to face him, my nose practically touching his chin.

“‘Cause we ain’t supposed to be friends. The boys see you hangin’ around Brooklyn, they’ll think yous tryin’ to prove something. And you know what they do to boys that ain’t ours? They beat ‘em up. Then, they bring them to me. And I decide if they’s gets a real pounding. But do I have a choice? No! Once they’s decides yous getting beat, my say hardly matters. If I randomly tell them to let someone go, I’m considered soft. Then we both get beat. Do you see what they’ve done to some boys? I ain’t letting that happen to you, Race! I’m not patching up your wounds because I couldn’t control-”

“Spot.,” Race cut me off. I froze. It was the first time he had used my full name. 

“What?” I asked bitterly. I noticed my eyes were burning. Why were they burning? What was this hellish sensation?

I felt something warm trickle down my face. 

Oh. My. God. I was crying. Crying! I hadn’t cried in four years! All about some idiot boy who had lovely eyes and blond hair and was empathetic and made me genuinely laugh and feel safe for the first time in years-

Race stepped forward, crushing the distance between us in one stride (damn tall people), and then… Hugged me. 

I hadn’t been really hugged in seven years, since I had made it to Brooklyn. Well, I had received bro hugs. Light ‘ey, whaddup’ hugs. But this… This was the type of hug that I hadn’t received since my parents had died. The type of hug that shields you from the outside world, that makes you feel like an atomic bomb could go off and they could protect you from it. 

It was so strange, so human. I hadn’t been treated like a real person for so long.

“It’s really like that, huh,” Race whispered, stroking my back. I felt goosebumps appear on my skin. How much feeling had I forced myself to miss out on? 

“It’s just… A lot. I mean… I’ve always known I would give my life for those boys, they’re my everything. But… I don’t know if they would for me. I don’t even know how much they truly respect me. I can’t even say if they’d respect this new rule I’ve been thinking of putting in place,” I said, not moving from my place in Race’s grasp. 

“And what would that be?” Race muttered, rocking back and forth. It was… nice. 

“No beating up on Racetrack Higgins ‘cause he deserves the world,” I said, my voice still muffled in his shirt. He chuckled. 

“I hardly deserve the world… But… Could I have you?” there was this caution in his voice, so different from the constant suave tone he took on while talking with me. But, then again, I of all people was sobbing into a boy’s chest, so this night turned out to be the night of all the unthinkable. 

“I don’t know if that’s what you really want, but… You can have me, sweet-talker,” I said, tipping up my head and meeting his lips in a kiss. 

It wasn’t sudden, or brash like most would’ve thought our first kiss would be like. No, it was slow and sweet. Because even if our relationship was loud and chaotic, we could take pieces of it as slow as we wanted. 

And now, I can say that my sweet-talkers lips are just as sweet as his words.

A/N: Thank y’all so much for reading! if you have any sort of prompts, pop on over to my asks! Love y’all! <3 

[thecassadilla]

Perfection

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 2,175/AO3

Summary: After months of anticipation and preparation, Anna and Kristoff welcome their baby.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone!! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 6 - Purple! This fic is a loose follow up to my day 2 fic, Thankful, and my day 3 fic, Preparations. It can also be read as a stand-alone. Enjoy!!!

Also, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who read my fics this week! I’m so thankful for all of the support I received and I really enjoyed reading/looking at what everyone else contributed! 

There were two things that became evident early on in their relationship and carried over through the years; the first, was that one of Anna’s favorite colors was purple. She liked all colors, really, but purple was special to her and many of her clothes consisted of purple fabric in various shades, ranging from lilac to violet. And of course, Kristoff was happy to oblige when she requested purple elements in their bedroom - specifically, a plum comforter set and matching valances. 

The second was that she had a minor online shopping addiction. It shouldn’t have been surprising to him when a package arrived at their house in her name despite the fact that he didn’t know what the contents of the package were. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy and it was getting more and more difficult for her to get around, so her habit picked up as she ordered baby and postpartum supplies. She spent most of her days lounging on the couch with her swollen feet and ankles elevated on the ottoman in front of her, and her wedding ring hanging from a delicate, silver chain around her neck, as her fingers had swelled up as well.

“Anna, you got a package,” Kristoff said, as he entered the living room.

“Ooh, gimme!” she exclaimed, extending her arms and flexing and extending her fingers a few times.

He handed her the box and she eagerly began tearing at the tape. “What’d you order?”

“You’ll see,” she answered in a sing-song voice.

He sat down next to her and watched as she jutted her tongue out, struggling to rip open the box. “You want some help?”

“I’ve got it.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her stubbornness. She finally managed to pull out the contents of the box, ripped the plastic off the first garment, and held it up for him to see; it was a light purple robe. “That’s pretty.”

“It’s for after the baby is born,” she explained. “So I can be comfortable in the hospital but still look put together when we take pictures and people stop by to visit. It’ll be good for nursing, too, because it crosses over in the front.”

“Good idea.”

“And then, I got matching swaddles and hats for the baby. Grey if it’s a boy, and white with purple flowers if it’s a girl.” She held up the plastic packages so he could get a look at them. “I’m debating only bringing the grey one, though, because I’m sure it’s a boy.”

“You won’t be sure until the baby’s out.”

“I know, but I have the strongest gut feeling that it’s a boy. I can’t explain it, it’s like there’s a voice in my head screaming ‘boy!’”

“A couple of months ago you were sure it was a girl,” he reminded her. “You should bring both.”

“I will,” she agreed. “Do you have a gut feeling?”

“Not really. I flip-flop everyday. Today I’ve been imagining a girl, but the past few days I’ve been thinking that it’s a boy.”

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” she remarked. She tore the plastic off of the last two packages before handing one of the blankets to him. “Here, feel how soft it is.”

He rubbed it between his hands. “That’s really soft, what type of material is it?”

“I can’t remember.” She took her feet off the ottoman and scooted to the edge of the couch, preparing to push herself up.

“Woah, what are you doing?”

“I have to wash all of this stuff so it’s ready for when we go to the hospital.”

“I’m more than capable of doing a load of laundry. Give ‘em to me.”

She narrowed her eyes, but obliged, handing him the blankets and her robe before crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned back into the cushions. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”

“You’re extremely pregnant and swollen. You’re supposed to be keeping your legs elevated.”

“I’ll never go into labor if you won’t let me move around.”

“We already went for our walk today,” he reminded her. “Doctors’ orders were to elevate your feet, drink more water, and avoid being outdoors for long periods of time now that it’s hot out.”

“You know, I love that you’re really attentive and that you care so much, but sometimes I wish you were a teeny bit less attentive so I could get away with more.” 

He chuckled. “You’ve gotten away with plenty. Besides, you only have four weeks left, maybe less.”

“Or more. God, what am I gonna do if this kid decides not to come out?”

“The good news is that the baby has to come out, sooner or later.”

“My doctor won’t induce me until I’m a week past due and I don’t know if I can last that long. This baby has got to be so squished in here.”

“I’m sure the baby is nice and comfy. Just a little bit longer.”

“But I’m already so big,” she moaned, throwing her head back. “If I get past forty weeks, you’ll have to stick a ‘wide load’ sticker on my a*s and take me to the hospital in a forklift.”

“You always did have a flair for the dramatics,” he smirked. “I know that you feel uncomfortable, but you look great and a forklift is completely unnecessary.”

“I’m ready to be done being pregnant.”

“Soon,” he promised. “You’re in the home stretch.”

“Tell him to come out,” she begged. “He listens to you.”

“Baby will come out when baby is ready to come out. There’s nothing that I can say or do that will change that.”

“Well, there is one thing you can do…”

He smiled knowingly and stood up. “I think that’s my cue to go start this load of laundry.”

“You got me into it, and you can get me out of it!” she called after him, and when he ignored her, she blathered on. “Oh, come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that! You know as well as I do that the baby isn’t going to come out until he’s ready regardless of what we do.” 

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

“It’s a girl!” the doctor yelled before placing the tiny, screaming newborn on Anna’s chest.

“Oh my god, it’s a girl,” she breathed, tears cascading down her cheeks. She shakily touched the baby for the first time as the nurses worked on cleaning her off, and squeezed Kristoff’s hand with her free hand as she murmured, “She’s so beautiful.”

“You did amazing, honey,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “She’s perfect.”

“And she’s so tiny,” she blubbered. “I’m already so in love with her.”

Just a little while later, they had settled into the peace and quiet of the recovery room. They hadn’t had any guests yet, and were spending quality time as a family of three. 

“I’m so glad I brought the floral swaddle,” Anna commented, staring down at the perfect, little baby in her arms. The newborn was looking up at her through squinted, dark blue eyes. “I was so convinced she was a boy.”

“She needs a name,” Kristoff remarked.

“I know, but it has to be perfect,” she said, running her fingers over the baby’s wispy, blonde hair. 

“Did you have something in mind?”

“I made a list of names on my phone a while back, but I don’t know if any of them will suit her.”

“Let me see,” he said, and she handed him her phone. He found the list relatively easily, and began reading off names to her. “How about Violet?”

She shook her head. “No, she’s not a Violet.”

“Emma?”

“No, it sounds too much like my sister’s name.”

The process continued as he made his way through the list, until a name close to the bottom caught his eye. “Here’s one that I really like - Grace.”

“Grace,” she echoed, with a small nod. “I think that’s her name.”

“You think?” he chuckled. 

“You have to look at her and see if she’s a Grace.” She shifted in the bed and held her out for him.

He took the baby in his arms and smiled down at her; in his opinion, she was the spitting image of Anna, minus the hair color and freckles. “She’s a Grace.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“And we can call her Gracie,” Anna said, pushing her lower lip out into a pout. “I love it.”

“Me too. Do you want her back now?”

“I’ve been hogging her this entire time and you’ve been so patient, it’s your turn now.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a small smile. He’d had the opportunity to hold her earlier in the day and he’d taken it, but he didn’t want to deprive Anna of any time with her. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and admired their perfect baby. 

“I can’t believe she was so tiny and I was so huge,” she laughed. “Only seven pounds and two ounces.”

“You were all baby, though. She had nowhere to go but outwards, I guess.”

“I told you she was squished in there. She must be so happy that she can stretch out now.”

“You must be happy that she came early, huh? Only a week early, but still.”

“Happy is not the right word - thrilled is more like it. I was worried that she wouldn’t be born until the second week of June. I don’t know if I would’ve survived an extra week or two.”

“You’re very strong,” he commended her. “Stronger than you think. If you had to endure another two weeks, you would’ve.”

“You’re right, but I would’ve complained a lot,” she giggled. 

“That’s okay, I can’t imagine that growing a human is comfortable.”

“It was so worth it, though. We got the world’s most beautiful baby out of it.”

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

A few days later, when they were settled in at home, the doorbell rang. Kristoff had gone to answer it, while Anna glanced down at the infant in her arms, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that she was still content. It’d been a rough couple of days for all of them; Anna and Kristoff were both equally lacking sleep, with dark circles appearing under their eyes, and she was desperate for a shower, certain she smelled like spit-up. None of that mattered, though, because the baby was happy and of course, adorable as ever in a purple cotton jumpsuit. 

“Who was that?” Anna asked when Kristoff appeared in the living room.

“It was just a delivery,” he assured her. 

“Oh, I thought it was Elsa. She’s supposed to be on her way,” she said before furrowing her eyebrows. “Did I order something and forget about it? Is the mommy brain already getting to me?”

“No, it was something I ordered.”

“Oh, okay.” She shifted Grace from the crook of her arm and rested the baby’s face against the burp cloth on the uppermost part of her chest, by her shoulder, and gently patted her back. 

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Sure.”

He produced a small purple box tied with a white ribbon and handed it to her. “Good, because it’s for you.”

She could feel the tears forming in her eyes at the sight of it. “You got me a present?”

He nodded. “Mmhmm.”

She placed her opposite hand on Grace’s back, and jiggled the ribbon with her free hand to get it undone. When it finally came away from the box, she popped the top off and inside was a rectangular, silver pendant with Grace’s name engraved on it, in addition to a tiny emerald, her birthstone. “This is so beautiful.”

“It’s a push present,” he explained. 

“Isn’t the baby enough of a present?”

“Yeah, well, you had to carry her around inside of you for nine months and then push her out, so I think you deserve a little something extra. And now that your ring fits on your finger again, you can put it on your necklace.”

“You’re the sweetest,” she sniffled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Please come closer so I can kiss you.” He obliged, scooting down a few inches and pressing a soft, warm kiss to her lips. “Thank you for my present, Kristoff. And thank you for the adorable baby.”

“I can’t take the credit on that one,” he laughed. “You did all of the hard work.”

“All of the hard work was worth it to have her here, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” She re-positioned the newborn, once again cradling her in her arms. “Would you mind unclasping my necklace and putting the pendant on? I’d love to wear it now.”

“Of course,” he said, and she leaned forward slightly, careful not to disturb the baby. He unclasped the necklace, slid the pendant on, and then draped it back over her neck. “There.”

She placed her free hand over the smooth metal. “It’s perfect.”

[mariya-chan5]

Hello borusara fans This is my first time to made a fanfic so if i make a mistake tell me please. And support me.

Title : Lovers or just a friends?

After years away from their hometown, the Uchiha family returns to Konoha. There, young Sarada, right on her first day, runs into her best childhood friend, Boruto Uzumaki, who is now a handsome seventeen-year-old boy with blond hair and blue eyes, much more beautiful than girl remembered.

The friendship between the two flows as before, with the same tone of zueira and rivalry that has always existed. But this time, there is something more connecting the two hearts. Something the Uchiha is still unaware of.

Accompanied by a mystery involved in the Uchiha family, the young woman will have to deal with the consequences that her return will bring to the lives of her old and new friends, while facing new feelings that will arise and leaving her tormented with a question: After all, she and Boruto, are they friends or something else?

Chapter 1 : I am back!!!

Dear diary, my name is Sarada Uchiha. After 7 years in Otoga, I am returning to my hometown, Konoha. Nostalgia invades me when I think about my old life there. The restaurants, the school, the people ... Everything that I left behind, will come up again.

I'm at the airport waiting for our flight schedule. I confess that I'm a little impatient, I took this from my father hehe. Who is he? Sasuke Uchiha, a policeman who scares people, especially my colleagues. I say that because as a child, the other kids didn't mess with me because of him, except for a certain idiot ...

From my mother I took the temper. I can be - with a clear reason - a little warm. She, Sakura Uchiha, is a doctor and founder of the ‘Psychological Institution for Children’ in Konoha. Do you know a dedicated woman who always gives her all? She is my mother, and I love to be proud of that ”.

Narrator p.o.v

Sarada wrote in his new diary, which was given by a friend before his return to Konoha. While filling the first page of countless to come, wearing headphones, I listened to “Happier - Mashmello”, on Spotify.

- Sarada - Sakura called a second time, with blood in her eyes.

- She won't listen to you while wearing these headphones. - Sasuke warned in an ironic tone.

- Hehe ok ... Sarada! - the mother shouted, pulling the girl's headphones, who closed the diary at the same moment, frightened.

- Who was the ... Ah, hi mom! - the girl turned red as a tomato - note: she hates tomatoes - this when she realized that her mother caught everyone's attention around her. Ah ... mothers. - Hey, mom, you don't have to shout like that! You could have just called me.

- Hi????? - Sakura asked in horror at her daughter's wooden face. - Drop that diary and let's go! Then you go on with it, come on, come on !!

- Okay, Sakura, I understand, don't shout, onegai hehe ...

The girl kept the diary, and went with her parents for boarding.

•••

- I'll stay at the window! - Sarada exclaimed.

- My Kami ... Looks like a seven year old child, do I deserve it? Sakura sighed, her hand on her face. - There's your daughter Sasuke.

- With this way of acting, I think we know who she actually looks like ...

- Dad, don't say such a thing ...

- Hey! What do you mean by that?

- I did not say anything! - the girl replied in a hard face.

Sakura turned away and smiled a satisfied smile. Your relationship with your daughter is like that, the best.

The conversation ended. The girl put the headphones back on and went back to writing in her diary.

“I am so happy to be back in Konoha! The main reason for this is that I’m going to see my friends. Sumire, Inojin, Shikadai, Lee, and Boruto, my favorite.

Since we don't keep in touch, I spend hours wondering if they still remember me, our madness ... Did Boruto grow up? Haha, I remember being bigger than him, which was a perfect reason to make fun of him. He was also irritating and stubborn. My father said that this was taken from Uncle Naruto.

I missed that idiot so much ... ”.

The plane started. Sarada kept the diary, and without realizing it, she fell asleep, shortly after imagining a thousand and one possibilities of what her reunion with her old friends would be like. With a smile and "See You Again" playing, the girl fell asleep.

•••

- Sarada ... We arrived, wake up ... - Sasuke called calmly.

The girl opened her eyes slowly, and when her senses surfaced, she broke into a big smile.

- So we're done ...

- Let's go down, get your things.

- OK.

It was one in the afternoon when they arrived in Konoha. After solving some things, the family left the airport. Sarada breathed in and out of the old - and now new - home, when an idea popped into her head.

- Uh ... Will the taxi take long to arrive?

- I hope not, I'm exhausted. But why are you asking, huh? - the mother asked, suspicious.

- It's just ... I wanted to go for a walk, you know? I don't know ... Just to know the changes in the city ... - he said with a pidona face.

- I think you'll have enough time Sarada. Now we need to get some rest. Besides, we just arrived, you shouldn't go around alone. - Sasuke said.

- It's quick!

- Didn't you hear daughter? Not now. - Sakura declared.

- Ok ... Okay, - he replied.

- Stay calm, the taxi won't take long ... Ah! Look at him over there!

The car arrived.

- Hey, man, can you please help us with our bags? - Sasuke asked the taxi driver.

- Sarada put your things in ... - Sakura turned and sighed when she saw that her daughter was no longer there. - Oh God! Sasuke, where's Sarada?

- Take a walk, maybe? - He smiled discreetly.

- Ah, so stubborn ... He pulled his side of the family!

- She'll be fine, Sakura, don't worry so much ...

- If she gets lost, who will look for her, it will be you!

•••

Somewhere in the City Center

- I think ... I'm lost ha ... ha ... My God, help me!

It was late afternoon. Sarada went around and around the city, and ended up getting lost, he didn't know how to get back to the taxi stand. He stopped in a square, sat on a bench and stayed there. He hates to admit it, but his parents were right, it would have been better to wait. Teens ... They are so stubborn, argh!

- Dude, what do I do now? My cell phone battery is over, I'm lost in this huge city, and hunger is starting to attack. Maybe it is better not to see my parents again, because my mother will want to kill me. Damn ... I'm such an idiot! - he said, throwing a crumpled pamphlet on the floor.

- Just because you're lost doesn't mean you're an idiot!

"Oh no ... There comes a man to fill me," Sarada thought.

- Don't worry, I'm not a fucking pervert or anything. I just want to help a girl who's looking like she's lost.

- I don't need your help. - Sarada didn't even look at the person. His eyes were on the floor.

- It's not what it looks like. Are you new around here?

- What if it is?

- So it's explained ... Look ... If you accept, I can show you the way to the train station, or the taxi rank.

“Shit Sarada, look at the situation you are in now,” she thought.

- Okay. To make things easier, I say my name, can it be?

- Hmm.

- But ... I only say it when you look at me.

"Loose face".

Sarada raised her head and then ...

- My name is Boruto Uzumaki! And who are you?

A shock. It was what the young woman felt when she met those unforgettable eyes. Blue as the ocean, and beautiful as the ... of an angel? Yes, that's how she described them since she was little.

- Bo ... - she whispered.

- It was bad, I didn't understand. Can repeat?

- Boruto ... Is it ... you?

- Ah yes. And you are... ?

- Do not you remember? - the girl asked with a stare, intimidating to the boy, who after some time sinking in that onyx, realized. - I am...

- Impossible ... She can't be here ...

A tear formed in the eyes of the Uchiha, who left for a hug in his friend, who soon could be sure that yes, that was his best childhood friend ... Sarada.

After a few seconds stuck together, they separated, shyly, and the girl started:

- I still can't believe I found you like this, Boruto. I ... I missed you so much ...

The boy couldn't take his eyes off her. He was delighted and made a point of making that clear.

- Sarada are you ...

- What? She asked, confident that her friend would have noticed her changes from a little girl to a woman.

- Too short! Hahahaha, what the fuck? Forgot to grow up?

- YOU FOOL! AFTER SO LONG, HAVE YOU NOT YET LEARNED HOW TO TREAT WOMEN ?!

- There! - the boy shouted when he felt his friend's punch, after a long time. - It's even stronger ...

- Ah ... It was bad hehe! I think I got excited ...

- Relax! I missed that ... Really.

The eyes met for a fraction of a second.

- Ah ... Tell me ... Did you come to visit? What a pity, because I really

- I'm here to stay. She interrupted. - I'm back to Konoha ... Boruto!

- B ... Welcome back ... I ...

- You do not need to say anything! We'll have all the time in the world! Just for us!

At that moment, the boy blushed on a level ...

- Yeah, yeah, you're right! Can I ... give you another hug?

- Idiot ... Why do you ask? - she said pulling the blonde. - I'll tell you everything!

•••

- Then your father completed the task and you could return ...

- That ae! - Sarada replied, while eating ice cream that Uzumaki insisted on buying.

- Wow! I ... I thought you would never ... I thought I wouldn't see you anymore ... - he declared with a weak smile.

- I knew you couldn't take it anymore without me, baby boy!

- Hahahaha! This time, and only this time, I will not disagree. - he joked, and then decided to ask - Are you ... dating?

- Not! I'm really fine ... What about you, sir? Until you are dressed up, I would not be surprised if I said that I found someone to support you.

- Nobody is worthy!

- Hahahaha, I know! I'm sorry for the unfortunate future! - Sarada joked, pushing the blonde slightly.

And with that started a war.

- Hey! - Boruto grunted, pushing her harder.

The two stayed like that for a long time.

- It's great to have you here again! Sarada looked into the boy's eyes after the statement and his face flushed slightly.

- N-don't look at me like that, idiot!

- Because? Can't you resist that beautiful face of Uzumaki?

- Hahahaha! Silly!

They - or at least one of them - would never think about the possibility of the two together.

- Well, the sun is already setting. I'll take you to the station, and then you call your people to come and get you, can you?

- Yes, thank you!

- So let's go?

- Let's go!

Breaking time >>

After a few minutes walking around the city, and learning about it, Sarada and Boruto arrived at the station. Uchiha used his friend's phone to check on his parents, who were worried and furious.

After the call, the girl said goodbye to Boruto.

- Thank you ... Even after so long you were here when I needed it most

- That's what friends are for, isn't it? - he said with a smile, (and what a beautiful smile).

They embraced for a while. This time, a hug full of tenderness and longing, as if all words not said in years, were transmitted through this act.

Sarada looked over the blonde's shoulders and saw his punishment.

- My parents are getting there.

- So I think it's time to say goodbye ... Well, bye.

- Hahaha, bye! Until next time!

- That sentence ... See you!

The two smiled at each other and he was gone. Seconds later, the girl's parents arrived.

- Something to say, stubborn Uchirrazinha? - Sakura asked, arms crossed.

- Err ... I'm sorry. I didn't hear them both and ended up doing shit. Forgive me, please.

- Since when it doesn't happen again. We are not in a very “free and fired” moment to walk through this alone, understand? His mother replied, calmly - or at least, trying.

- Thank you mom ... - the girl looked at her father, who smiled a little, just to make her understand.

- Let's go home. - he said.

•••

After meeting, the Uchiha family returned home - the old house, which is beautiful and perfectly preserved. - When he arrived, Sarada ran to his room, which still had some old things, such as toys and clothes. He sat on the bed, and picked up his diary.

“Dear diary ... I just saw my best childhood friend. This is so surreal and exciting. He's so ... tall and handsome, he doesn't even look like the annoying brat from a few years ago.

He saved me, that idiot ...

What did fate have in store for me? I'm looking forward to finding out! ”.

The girl smiled alone as she remembered the day with her friend. She closed the diary and looked around. The room was a mess, this is like a nightmare for a young Sasuke and Sakura Uchiha, so she took advantage of the disposition to give a touch Sarada Young there.

A few hours later, she fell asleep.

Hope you guys enjoy the story. I try my best to write perfect but if i made mistakes so please forgive me. Thanks for reading ❤❤❤❤

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 17: 2x26 Assignment: Earth

Finally finished up S2 of TOS yesterday. That was... a rough episode tbh. I’m just gonna say it: back door pilots are bad! They’re bad. If I wanted to watch that other show, I’d watch it.

Wow, they’re just really jumping right in, huh? “Here we are, on a routine mission into the past, using a time travel method that we invented nbd.”

Investigating desperate problems in the year 2020...2016.... no wait 1968.

Ooh, Spock in the transport room today. Does he have a whole extra random station there? That’s so weird; I’ve never seen that before. It’s like hidden in the corner.

Cat!! Cat!!

What a good actor. I’m still bitter that wikipedia has a whole section about the casting for “Isis the cat” that talks entirely about the human who played Isis for 2 minutes and nothing about the talented feline actor. Where did they find her? How did they teach her to act?

She has a lot of thoughts about Kirk.

I wrote down “Scully, you’ve got to see this” in my notes and I’ve already forgotten what it refers to lol. Some moment that I thought would fit well with my favorite x-files meme.

Change history, you say? Spock is intrigued. ...Admittedly, Spock is often intrigued.

“What if it turns out you’re an invading alien from the future?” Honestly...let him invade. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.

I’m pretty insulted by this. The aliens went through all this trouble to help in 1968...where are our alien helpers NOW?

The cat straight up attacked his face.

Kirk is so fond of Spock being fond of the cat.

“It’s a lovely animal. I feel myself strangely drawn to it.”

Kirk is way too confused by Seven--an allegedly human person with super-human abilities that he says come from aliens--and yet, he’s met Charlie X so??? Is this not the same?

Kirk’s got the whole crew checking in on zoom.

(I actually do like this sequence of him getting video calls from different parts of the ship.)

“Weren’t orbiting H-bombs a huge problem in 1968?” Looks at the camera like he’s on The Office. Not the subtlest bit of writing in the “social commentary” genre. I do say this with love, though. I always enjoy when they comment on contemporary problems.

“He has a totally perfect body.” Lol don’t distract these two bisexuals.

[soft meowing]

“The prisoner has escaped.” The way this is shot, it looks like he’s talking about the cat.

Hmm, I do love the decor. Very 60s. This honestly immediately feels like a different show, and a much more dated show; even when the Enterprise time travels, it tends not to time travel to... office space.

Love the little sounds the computer makes.

So is Isis supposed to be one of the fancy aliens? It’s never explained but one must assume she is.

Aw, he’s petting her paw.

So I assumed the cats sounds are real, but just dubbed. They’re not lol. Which I guess isn’t surprising: this cat makes a lot of noises! They were provided by a human voice actress.

Damn.... I want a secret bookshelf that turns around to reveal a super computer with a big screen. “Computer... play Netflix.”

That’s what Seven does in his spare time.

The computer is an AI. “Beta 5 snobbery” lol.

Where are OUR alien overlords to stop US from destroying ourselves before WE can mature into a peaceful society?

This is really masterful exposition lol. Not forced or awkward at all.

ST sure does love the snooty female computer trope.

“Get us the proper costumes.” Yes, get Spock his Requisite Hat.

Omicron IV....that’s one of the names they use in Futurama lol. Such nerds.

Another excellent Spock Hat.

I love Seven’s various IDs. Great style. I wish my driver’s license looked like those.

“Who do you think you are?” He hasn’t decided yet. That’s why he was shifting through his IDs.

Seven is not smart lol. Like, he should have figured out way faster that this lady isn’t one of the Alien Overlords. He asks her the code question, she doesn’t understand it, and he... assumes she’s just really in character? Dude, that’s what the code questions are for!!! To help you identify people! Otherwise you could just straight up ask: are you an alien?

Instead he’s like “oh, you silly alien, you’re playing with me,” and then is forced to trap her, reveal his whole mission, and ultimately ensnare her in his plan.

I want that typewriter. Voice recognition typewriter.

"My incompetence has made you aware of very secret devices." Well at least he knows.

Trained cat!

The alien overlords were killed in a random car accident. That’s ironic.

Oh look, a real rocket!

Brown pants + short sleeved shirt + tie is such a Classic 60s look.

This security guard doesn’t think it’s weird that this random dude has a cat with him? Is this part of Isis’s alien power?

Except for the part where it’s a weapon, it’s pretty cool to see all this build up to, like... launching stuff into space. Exciting.

Isis likes to be on shoulders. Just like Little Guy.

New hat for Spock. His outer wear hat, and now his fancy hat. There is something to be said for this ep, and that is Kirk and Spock in suits.

Amazing how they literally launched rockets with computers that old. Like seeing the big bank of primitive computers is totally wild. We put people on the moon that way! Amazing.

“Meow.” Lol, Isis is stressed so she’s speaking like a cat. That’s a pretty funny joke actually.

Seven is so incompetent. If he’d just let the Enterprise help, Scotty could have fixed that rocket issue in like 3 seconds.

Lol everyone’s just pulling Gary through space. Now on the Enterprise. Now in the office.

Why does this computer have a hug black screen if it only displays images on the small white circle?

"Spock and  I in custody. Main characters, doing nothing, knowing nothing, totally useless and irrelevant. I have never felt more helpless." Literally what is even the point of them today? Does Spock even have lines outside of “I like the cat”?

Isis is jealous of Roberta. Is she.. in a relationship with Seven lol?

Uhura is listening to everyone in the world. She probably has a universal translator on, but I do feel like this scene implies she just...understands all the languages.

So now the warhead is armed and heading to somewhere vague... in other words, everyone has collectively made the situation worse.

....Or this was Seven’s plan all along? To scare people into ceasing to be so careful with nuclear weaponry? As someone who knows humans better than this guy, I think this is a dumbass plan.

“That’s why so many people in my generation are kind of crazy and rebels.” Same, sweetheart.

Really this is just a story about bad communication. If Seven had told Kirk his plan upfront, Kirk would have helped him. And if Kirk weren’t so insistent on involving himself in something just because he happens to be somewhere he probably shouldn’t be, we wouldn’t have this issue either. The hubris of everyone.

Overall, just a really forced narrative imo.

Or that’s how it was supposed to be lol. The Irony of time travel. By it’s nature, everything has already worked out.

Kirk and Spock are like “You’re welcome. Peace out.”

Honestly... Isis was the only good part. Such a talented cat actor!! Or trio of cat actors, I guess. Had to do all those stunts and stuff.. .amazing. I also liked the concept of Isis. How she turned into a human later just to troll Roberta. How she’s never really explained--one must assume, an alien? Plus I pretty much never get tired of human + animal teams where the animal makes animal noises and the human just understands and answers in English.

As a stand alone sci fi concept...it was okay. Kinda dated by now. The alien tech was nifty and Roberta could have grown on me. Maybe even Seven, though he left a lot to be desire. That said, the narrative relied a lot on people getting in each other’s way for no reason, which I find very frustrating.

But as a Star Trek episode....no. The main characters were just nuisances on the side lines!! I’m not even sure what Kirk’s mission here was--to try to figure out what Seven was doing? And stop him if necessary? But he never really decided if it was or not, until the point where not trusting him would basically cause a nuclear war? I don’t know, I found it all very frustrating. The melding of the original show and the spinoff was not smooth.

If I were watching this in 1968, I’d feel very cheated. THIS was the season finale? That’s it? I don’t even get a real Star Trek episode and now I have to wait months for anything new?

And what I get after all that waiting is Spock’s Brain?? I’d be tempted to quit. If I had a tumblr in 1969 I’d be writing multi-paragraph rants about how the best show on television has completely nose-dived lol.

But then there’s The Enterprise Incident, which is one of the best episodes... I don’t know, man. It’s a conundrum. I’ve only seen maybe half of season 3 but from what I remember it’s very uneven: some of the best eps (The Enterprise Incident, For the World Is Hollow, Day of the Dove) mixed in with some of the worst (Spock’s Brain, The Paradise Syndrome), plus some that are good concepts but shoddily executed (The Way to Eden). So we’ll see what I think about it when I see it all in one piece, in air date order.

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No. 21 - Family Part I

Chapters 1 - 10

Chapter 11

Danny still feels the rush of nervousness when Steve has made it clear he wanted to spend time with him and Grace at the beach, at home where he grew up. This is big. This implies family and a future. Danny wants it. He wants everything. He wants to have days and years ahead of them. This day symbolizes a milestone.  And… and they are only going steady for a week, a week. What a stupid expression but seriously, they're only together for seven freaking days! Good Gracious, but to Danny, it feels as if they'd picked up where they have left off in another life. It must be something like that. Steve shared Kamekona's insanely ridiculous comment after a hot night. In the darkness, sweaty, their legs entangled and with a soft press of Steve's lips to his chest, Danny learned that Kawika and Kame think Steve and he are soulmates.

Also on AO3

Danny's heartbeat tells him he believes in this weird spiritual crap. The way Steve and he go at it just tells that the guys are right about it. This isn't normal. It's not normal how he misses Steve when he's at work. It grazes madness the way he breaks every traffic rule just to get as fast as possible to his man. Gosh, Danny feels like he's sixteen again and so madly in love.

Steve always waits for him at the flower shop no matter the time. When Danny walks through the door Steve greets him by pressing him up against the nearest wall before he kicks the door shut. Danny drowns in Steve's gasps and whispered words. They make love and they fuck on every surface available. They eat in between, feed each other only to end up in bed exhausted, satisfied, and with new bruises and scratches from the various pieces of furniture in Steve's jungle house.

But today is the kind of special that adds a new depth to what they already have.

Today is beach day. Steve has waited for this day from the moment he has told Danny about the color turquoise he plans to paint the walls in Grace's room. The room he plans to put up at his house. All week-long, Steve has been out here to get everything ready for Grace. He has kept everything a big secret. Danny is still overwhelmed by Steve's devotion and the sheer force he makes things happen.

Danny still can't believe how fast everything turns into this let's-spend-the-rest-of-our-lives-together thing. He's not scared. Maybe he should be scared because they've skipped having any date at all only to jump right at fucking each other's brains out to steer toward having a family day at Steve's parent's house where he lives. That's… intense especially for Danny but he's not worried. No, in fact, he's as calm as a sleeping whale. He and Steve click like nothing he has ever experienced. And he loves this guy with almost an angry seriousness and that scares him sometimes. Because at this point, Danny knows there will never ever be anyone else but Steve.

And Danny has brought Grace to the game like from 'zero hour' and that's something he has never done with any of his former dates. Never. As if he had a choice. Jesus. He ran into Steve at the hospital. In a blink of an eye, Steve and his little girl have bonded over doing a game on the seesaw on a children's playground. And Grace has turned into that center from where Steve's world has started to grow into a completely new dimension. Danny isn't a nervous wreck over the possibility his baby girl could get hurt over them breaking up. Danny knows hell is going to freeze over before he and Steve won't make this relationship work. Because that's what this is. They don't name that huge intimate thing that grows every day into so much more. It just is and they know it. Danny would freaking marry this wild beast of a wonderful man on the spot if he asked him. So, yes, his mental health floats in a sphere he hasn't known existed.

"Do you have everything you need?" Danny calls from the kitchen. He washes salad in the sink, standing in Steve's kitchen, and picks the limp leaves to heap them up on the countertop. He dries his hands on a dish towel he has thrown over his shoulder.

Grace runs into the kitchen right up to him. She wraps her arms around his legs. "Steve has bought everything, Danno." She tells him excitedly. "He has sand shovels, a pink sand sifter, a blue pail, a green one, and a red pail for the water. And – and a lot of plastic forms. Big ones and small ones and there is a dolphin and a mermaid and fish." She bends her head back and looks up at Danny. Her face is in awe.

Danny lifts her up to have a father-daughter talk. "He showed me. I guess Steve has bought the best pieces to build the greatest sandcastle of Hawaii just for you. He wants you to have fun. You okay with that, Monkey? To be outside with Steve at the beach?"

"Uh-huh," Grace's head wobbles with eyes big and joyful.

"I stay in the kitchen for a bit and prepare lunch, okay?" Danny knows Grace is going to be fine but he's not so sure he's ready for this challenge. He wants to be though. The vastness of the ocean scares him and all the horror movies with giant sharks roll through is mind. "You call me if you need something or you'll tell Steve, okay? He's taking good care of you."

"Yes," she answers and writhes like a snake in his arms. "I wanna go outside, Danno."

"Where's Steve?" He knows how important it is for Steve to dig around in the sand with Grace, to hear her laugh, and to see her joy. He knows that but still, it's Grace and there are tons of seawater rolling in steadily a few feet from where they want to build the sandcastle.

"He says he wants to get the towels." She runs out of the kitchen but comes right back. "Steve said he bought a turtle for me." Grace shouts breathlessly.

Danny smiles with eyes as big as saucers. "He bought a turtle for you? A living animal?"

Grace giggles and storms back into the kitchen. "No! Danno! A sun umbrella that looks like a turtle!" She's out of breath and leans against the chair.

Danny can't really grasp all the small events that have turned their lives upside down. During the last week, he hasn't slept one night at his apartment. And he spends all his spare time with Steve. It's been a whirlwind of emotional and colorful days.

"Danno!" Grace calls over to him. "I said Steve has a turtle umbrella for me."

Danny snaps out of his reverie. "Sorry Monkey, I got lost in thoughts." He strokes her hair, "a turtle umbrella! Wow! That sounds awesome. Why don't you show me?"

"Okay," Grace plucks at her bathing suit with the flower print. "I'm hungry."

"Do you like a sandwich? Ham and cheese with tomatoes? Yeah?" Danny cuts one of the prepared Jersey sandwiches in half. He hands her the plate. "Here Monkey, one is for Steve. Lunch is ready in an hour. You gonna start with – with what? Digging holes?"

"Come, I'll show you," Grace takes the plate and walks out the door. "Steve said we'll make a big castle and we dig a deep ditch so the water can stream right in. He said the waves will fill the ditch and it's fun to watch."

Danny's heart overflows with happiness seeing his little girl so excited about something. He worries way too much. They'll be fine having a wonderful beach day without him playing watchdog. "Where's your hat, Gracie? And what about your fancy sunglasses? Don't you want to put them on?" Danny follows her into the living room where he has put their luggage.

"Have you found your glasses?" Danny steps up to where his daughter kneels on the floor. He crouches down beside her.

She goes through the sports bag Danny has packed to bring to Steve's house. It's a big house with big rooms but it looks strangely empty and abandoned in some way. Steve spends more time at the flower shop than at his parent's house that is his real home. Mary and Kawika live right next door. Danny thinks it's beautiful to have a sister living so close by, her backyard only a few minutes down the beach. Steve could drop by any minute to have a chat, have breakfast together.

"Got it!" Grace shouts and shoves the pink flowery shades over her nose.

"You look like a beach lady with big plans." Danny takes the plate with the sandwich. "Come, let's go and see what's Steve up to all alone at the beach."

Grace dashes out the door before Danny can ask about the sunblock and the extra shirt.

Steve puts up the second sunshade right next to the turtle one. "Hey, Danno, shall I cream Gracie with sun cream?"

"I don't want it." Grace says, already busy with the buckets. "It's sticky and makes all the sand stay on my arms and knees." She whines a little and picks up the little shovel.

"It's hot out here, Grace. You have tender skin. We can't leave it unprotected." Steve explains with a gentle voice. "Let Danno decide what's best for you, okay? I'll put on some cream too if this makes you feel better?" Steve suggests and bites heartily into a juicy half of Danny's favorite Jersey sandwiches. "Ah, it tastes awesome." He keeps a distance and just gifts him with a smile.

Danny knows Steve's insecure how much affections he's allowed to share in front of Grace. "I take pride in prepping the most authentic New Jersey sandwiches. You're welcome." He winks and makes sure to hold Steve's gaze. "Grace, come do me a favor and put on this shirt. We can't have you catch a sunburn. That hurts and it's not good for your skin. And your mommy wouldn't be pleased with me."

Grace is digging, too busy to even reply. She stretches her arms over her head and let Danny put on the white, light shirt. "That's better, Monkey."

Steve also pulls a shirt over his head. "Look, Grace, partner look. See? I wear a shirt too. It's simple, effective sun protection." He darts another smile over at Danny. "You okay with me and Grace out here, Danny?" He drops to his knees next to Grace where she's busy digging holes and filling the plastic forms.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." Danny bends down and adjusts Grace's hat. He kisses the top of her head and leans over to press a soft kiss to Steve's head, too. Grace doesn't even notice. Steve's warm hand caresses Danny's calf. "I'll be inside and prepare lunch. You'll shout if you need anything." Danny points a finger at Steve. "You take care of my little girl and don't let her be in the sun too long. Take breaks and come visit me some time so I know you haven't been washed out with the surf to God knows where."

Steve gifts him with an epic eye-roll. "Danny, I'm a SEAL and I spent my childhood at this beach. It's Hawaii and I know the rhythm of the tides like the back of my hand."

Danny wiggles with his index finger. "SEAL or no SEAL, you show up at the kitchen after an hour." He juts his chin in Steve's direction. "Is this understood?"

"Sure," Steve answers with a forced chuckle. "Your wish is my command."

"Hey," Danny makes Steve look at him, "I trust you." He emphasizes again.

Danny knows Steve's overeager to get it right for Grace and him. Danny's not as relaxed as he wished to be but he chooses a lighthearted voice to show Steve he's okay with him looking after his daughter. "Good. Have fun then." Danny turns and is about to walk back to the house. He taps the beaten wooden chair lightly and calls over his shoulder. "Steve, don't go swimming without the life vest on. Please?" He can't help it.

Steve gives him the thumbs up but the next second he's deepened in a serious conversation with Grace. They've got big plans. Danny walks back to the house with a warmer feeling in his stomach. This is better. It's going to be alright.

The flap flap flap sound reaches Danny's inattentive ear halfway into cooking his mother's famous tomato sauce. The lasagna sheets and the béchamel sauce are ready. Steve's kitchen smells like an Italian restaurant. He nibs at a spoon full of sauce to check what misses. He tries hard to keep the attention directed to cooking. His gut tells him to go check up on what's going on at the beach. But he stays inside and squashes the itch to act like an overprotective father. Steve's going to do great by being the adult looking after Grace.

Flap flap flap.

Cheese. He has forgotten to take the Parmigiano Reggiano out of the fridge. That's the best cheese to grate on top of the dish once all layers are filled in. Danny talks in his head to distract himself. Some odd worry spreads into his stomach and he can't figure out why. He shuts his eyes and counts to ten before he rinses a spoon and a knife under the running water.

The sound of the helicopter seems to spread wide into the sky, and it's getting closer and louder. Danny lifts his head to look out of the window. He sees a banner with the lettering 'newly married John and Amanda' and a big red heart. Danny watches a moment, seeing how the small airplane crosses the sky followed by one helicopter. No, two. Gosh, three helicopters approach through the sky. Some rich dude makes his kid's wedding a day to remember. Why do they need to fly over this part of the beach? The pilot makes sure the guests get what they've paid for. They fly so close by Danny can read the logo on the birds. Freaking idiots.

Danny's heart jumps to his throat and the cutlery clatters when he drops it in the sink. Helicopters and loud whirring rotor blades. Not good! Steve! Shit, is this…? Danny spins around and rushes through a safety check to make sure nothing's going to burn or boil over before he dashes out of the kitchen. He's not half-way through the living room when he hears Grace's scared and high-pitched voice, filled with dread, shouting his name.

"Danno! Daddy!"

Grace doesn't ever, ever call him daddy unless she's terrified.

"Grace! Gracie! I'm here! I'm coming!" Danny yells. Spiking Fear gives him an instant headache. He tastes blood in his mouth his heart beats so hard and fast. Danny yanks the door the lanai open. "GRACE!"

Danny bolts forward. He sees his daughter's face in tears; eyes wide with fear. She throws herself into his arms. Danny catches her and carries her immediately inside. He needs to check on her first, to make sure, she's unharmed. "Grace-baby, it's fine. Danno's here. Are you hurt? God, what's up, Monkey?" He carries her trembling little body over to the couch and keeps her pressed to his chest. He whispers soothing words and strokes her back to calm her. She doesn't seem hurt. "Are you hurt, baby?" He tries again.

Grace tucks her face into his throat and shakes her head. She's hot and sweaty and pants from running so fast.

Danny holds her in his arms until her sobs calm down. Only then he realizes what she's wearing. A life vest and big towel is thrown over her shoulders like a cape. Two floatation aids are pulled over each of her upper arms. She still wears the hat but her sunglasses are gone. Danny undoes the knot of the towel. His hands shake terribly. He's legs are numb from the shock that something might have happened to his little girl. He still hears the fucking helicopters in the sky. The sound seems deafeningly loud. He feels his heartbeat in his tongue. "Monkey, hey, sweetheart," he kisses her tear-stained cheek. "Baby, where… where's Steve?" He whispers against her hair with his nerves strung tight.

TBC

[crownedbyluke]

Long Road Ahead (Chapter Fourteen)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 2,190

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four}{Chapter Five} {Chapter Six} {Chapter Seven} {Chapter Eight} {Chapter Nine} {Chapter Ten} {Chapter Eleven} {Chapter Twelve} {Chapter Thirteen}

The morning had gone by fast, neither myself or Estelle really talking about what going to this event meant. I had put all of our stuff in the car before she came out of the house. I knew she wanted to drive, but wouldn’t ask, so I had given her the keys without hesitation. We were about a half hour in and still hadn’t talked. The soft sounds of Khalid’s “Young, Dumb, and Broke” played through the speakers. My eyes watched as trees and water went by. I had no idea what to say to her to ease the tension between us. 

“I need to tell you something,” she said suddenly.

I looked over at her, noticing her tightened grip on the steering wheel. It was now or never then. 

“What’s up?” I asked cautiously.

“There’s an actual reason why we can’t be together,” she said.

The tension she had in her body transferred to mine. My shoulders almost hurt from how tight my muscles were. I had intentions of this trip being the way Estelle would realize how well we work as a couple. With her words though, I had a feeling that wouldn’t be happening. I gulped.

“What is it?” I asked.

“When we were in South Carolina, there were pictures taken of me and Ashton. My, uh, dad saw them and called me. Then, there were more from New York, he saw them and called that night. He threatened to ruin your career and take away my chances of getting my new house if I kept seeing you,” she said.

It sounded like she released a breath of relief from saying it out loud. My mind was racing as I tried to process the information. So it had nothing to do with our friendship?

“We can’t be together because of your dad?” I asked so I was understanding her correctly. 

“Luke, he threatened your career,” she repeated. 

I nodded, still processing. Although I understood, it felt unfair. A relationship was meant for the two people involved and no one else. It wasn’t her fault, but I was angry. Why should her dad get to dictate what she does or who she sees? My eyes drifted back out the window. The faint sounds of “Like I Can” by Sam Smith started to fill my ears. My hand shot out and turned the music off. 

“Luke?” she asked. 

I felt her eyes on me, boring holes into my head. 

“It’s fine,” I lied. 

There was a bite to my words that I hadn’t meant to be there.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah. We’ll say we’re just friends at the gallery,” I said.

“Okay,” she said, a slight waiver in her voice.

She turned into the parking lot of the hotel I booked. We slowly got out and checked in. 

“Here are you keys Mr. Hemmings,” the concierge said.

I led her to the elevators. We went up to one of the highest floors in silence. At her room, I handed her what she brought along and her key. 

“I’ll leave you to get ready,” I said, turning to go to my separate room.

“Luke, my father doesn’t change the fact that I have feelings for you,” she blurted out. 

The side of my mouth turned up slightly at her words.

“I’ll come knock when it’s time to go,” I said, not turning around. 

I closed the door behind me, sliding down to the floor. My eyes closed, the feeling of defeat washing over me. Nothing was going to plan. I pulled out my phone, dialing the restaurant I made reservations at. 

“Yes, I’d like to cancel rooftop reservations for Hemmings.”

                                                    ➢➢➢

I adjusted the tie as I looked in the mirror. Crystal insisted on the gold one being perfect for whatever Estelle picked out. With a sigh, I grabbed my key car and headed over to knock on her door. The sound almost echoed throughout the empty hallway. After a few moments, the door opened. All of the air left my lungs as I looked at her. She had her hair down in small waves and just the lightest touch of makeup. The dress fit her perfectly like it was made for her. I met her eyes, seeing the nervousness in them. 

“You’re breathtaking,” I said finally.

She laughed a little. I extended my arm for her to take. When she took a step, I saw the slit of her dress and the slight peek of skin. My heart was pounding out of my chest. We walked together through the lobby, a smile plastered on my face. People stared at Estelle and I knew that if I wasn’t walking with her, I’d be doing the same thing. She was lighting up every room she walked in and I felt so lucky to be the person who she was walking with. The limo driver greeted us before opening the door. I let Estelle slide in first before following after her. It felt incredibly warm inside once the door closed. 

“Are you okay? Your cheeks are a little red,” she said.

I shook my head and took a deep breath. 

“Yeah. Sorry,” I said. 

I needed to calm down before we got there or the press would for sure be noticing the slight bulge in my pants. 

“Why the limo?” she asked.

“Oh, um, I wanted you to have a good time and we are going to a formal event so it’s only right,” I said.

“Well, thank you. You look very,” she paused, looking me up and down, “handsome.”

I smiled, grateful she wasn’t teasing me. 

“It’s nothing compared to the work of art you are,” I said. 

Her cheeks flushed. I watched as she pushed a piece of hair out of her face. The limo slowed as we arrived. 

“Ready?” I asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said with a smile. 

The door opened and I got out first. Without hesitation, I held my hand out for Estelle. The second she stood next to me, the cameras were flashing. Between the photographers calling my name and trying to lead her towards the entrance, I forgot about everything. We posed for pictures and then a few reporters stopped us. We gave the typical just friends answer. I was basically on autopilot until one reporter was more interested in Estelle than me. 

“Ms. Finley, it’s an honor to see you out tonight,” the reporter said. 

“Thank you. It is so nice to be out instead of the usual routine of work,” she said smoothly.

“How is your father?”

“It is so thoughtful of you to ask! He is very busy working on a new project,” she said. 

“Are you allowed to share any details?” the reporter continued. 

“Only a few. He’s producing the adaptation of a popular book right now. Very hush, hush. You know how the entertainment industry works,” Estelle said, giving the reporter a wink. 

“Which one?”

“Now spilling those details would get me in trouble. If you’ll excuse us, I’m really excited to see the art,” she said before turning away. 

I held my confusion in as we entered the gallery. Estelle accepted a champagne flute she was offered and handed me one. We started a slow first lap of the spacious gallery. 

“Care to explain?” I whispered.

“Later,” she replied.

We mingled a little, giving some smiles and engaging in polite small talk. After the third lap, I looked over at her. She was still giving a performance of whoever her dad told people she was. It seemed like it was wearing her out. Another couple gave us a matching pair of smiles as they passed. 

“Do you want to go?” I asked quietly.

“Please,” she said, giving me a desperate look.

I led her towards the back where I had seen the back exit. The stairwell let out right by the parking thankfully. I knocked on our limo’s window, seemingly waking up our driver. He unlocked the doors, letting us get in ourselves. Estelle sighed as she lifted her feet onto the other seat. 

“Producer huh?” I asked as we started moving. 

“And director when the project’s right,” she said, apparently doing an impression of her dad. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you go around telling people you meet that you’re a rockstar?” she asked. 

“Well, no, but-”

“But what? You let them figure it out? Tell them when you’re ready? Maybe even wait until their face shows up in the press?” she asked, cutting me off. 

“Sometimes, but I tell them before three years of friendship goes by,” I retorted. 

“Okay, well, let’s try this, shall we? Luke, my dad is a movie and TV producer and director that likes to tell the world his daughter works for the company and not that she’s a teacher. Would you also like to know about the time in college when someone that I thought was my friend took pictures of me at a party and sold them to the paparazzi which almost got me sent out of the country for the rest of school?” she said, annoyance and hurt in her voice. 

“I didn’t know,” I said, looking away from her.

“Because I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to think of me differently or even pity me. I didn’t want the two people that seemed to be genuinely good in my life to think less of me for being Lance Finley’s only daughter that he can’t even tell the truth about,” she said. 

We pulled up to the hotel. There was so much more I wanted to say than what I had. I helped her get out and then she walked away from me, not waiting. It was a walk of independence meant to showcase that she wasn’t just someone’s daughter. My feet forced me to try to catch up with her, barely making it into the elevator with her. 

“I don’t think of you differently,” I said.

“Tell that to your face,” she said.

“If you’re referring to the fact that I can’t stop looking at you, it’s because you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen and I’m madly in love with you,” I said. 

The elevator opened, letting us out to walk to our separate rooms. I wanted so badly for her to turn around or reach for me, but our lives weren’t a fairytale. The sound of her door closing rang in my ears. 

                                                      ➢➢➢

I was half asleep when a knock on the door echoed through my room. Groggily, I got up and opened the door. A room service attendant was standing there was a cart.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Yes! Here is the hot fudge sundae you ordered,” he said, lifting the cover. 

He was staring at me and I saw the look of realization start to come over his face. I quickly took the sundae and gave him a five dollar tip. Thankfully, he walked back to the elevator. I heard a soft giggle, making me look down the hall. Estelle was standing in her pajamas, trying not to laugh at me. 

“So this was you then?” I asked.

She nodded before closing her door to walk over to me.

“Since when do you not like sundaes?” she asked. 

“Oh, I do. I don’t love random sundaes showing up at my door though,” I said, moving so she could walk in. 

“Shame. I guess I’ll have to take it off your hands then,” she said, reaching for the bowl.

“Never said I wasn’t going to eat it!” I laughed, holding it out of her reach. 

Estelle stumbled, catching herself on my chest. Her citrus perfume took over my senses. One of my hands came down to rest on the small of her back. She hummed happily. It was hard to tell if she was drunk or just genuinely happy to be close to me again after all of the fighting. I reached and put the sundae down on the bedside table. She had taken her makeup off and tied her hair into a low ponytail. Even without all of the bells and whistles, she was gorgeous. The sudden change in demeanor was concerning, but if anything, I wanted to enjoy this moment in case I didn’t get another. 

“Why’d you send me a sundae?” I asked, bringing my other arm around her. 

“Wanted to apologize,” she mumbled.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s okay, little dove,” I said, cautiously bringing my hand to her cheek. 

The nickname rolled off my tongue before I could stop it. 

“I hate not being able to say you’re mine,” she said as her eyes met mine.

“I’m your’s?” I asked hopefully. 

“I love you Lu.”

I swiftly connected my lips to hers. Nothing else mattered right now besides her. Screw whatever anyone else decided or what people would think. I waited too long to have her be mine and I’m done not having her. Let the world rain down fire if it had to, Estelle was mine.

A.N.: We are going places. Full warning, there is some sad stuff ahead and I am so sorry. 

tags: @bbycal​ @emptysanity​ @floraldawg​ @cakesunflower​ @tommossoccer​

[ilguna]

Tacenda - Chapter Ten (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 4k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Katniss throws another rock at the forcefield, and then she looks back to you guys, “Hang on.”

She heads straight for the tree that’s nearby. When you look up to see how tall it is, you realize that it might be one of the biggest inside of the arena. She would get a perfect view up there. Props to her for that quick thinking.

She slings the bow over her shoulder as she begins to climb up stealthily.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who climbed trees as a kid.” you laugh, covering your eyes from the sun to watch her disappear in the mess of leaves, tree branches and vines.

“Maybe you have met your match.” Finnick suggests, you scoff.

“As if!” you smile, leaning against a tree.

Peeta looks between you two curiously, almost like he doesn’t know what to think of you two. Of course he knows the basics, hopefully. The fact that you two won your games together, had a little falling out only to come back stronger when Annie had won her games. Hell, you came out engaged.

You’ve been married to Finnick for five, maybe six years now. You’ve known him for ten, but your relationship is almost like best friends. You two don’t drape over each other like lovers do. It could be because you guys know that the other will be just fine without it

You and Finnick can look after each other without being suffocating about it. It’s not like Katniss and Peeta have that type of relationship at all.

But then again, he could just be staring at you guys like this, because this is the type of relationship that he wants with Katniss. Something so laid-back. You guys can rely on each other, and share looks and know what the other is thinking without a single word being said. A mutual agreement, an understanding.

He’s not trying to protect you all the time, and you’re not trying to do the same to him. While with Katniss and Peeta, she’s so worried about him, that it doesn’t really leave room for mistakes.

You can see it all now.

“How are you holding up, Peeta?” you ask, still playing around with the knife, “Got superpowers yet?”

Peeta smiles, looking down at the ground slightly, “I’m doing good. Thank you, by the way, Finnick.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

You point to Finnick with the knife, and then raise your eyebrows, “You had your first kiss with Peeta, how exciting was that?”

Finnick laughs, shaking his head at you, “He was dead, it doesn’t count.”

You raise your eyebrows a little taller, “Okay, then do it again, I dare you.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” Peeta says, moving away from Finnick purposely.

“You’re not my type, anyway,” Finnick says to Peeta, giving you a wink.

It’s quiet for a second, and then, “Haymitch gave you those?”

Finnick holds up his wrist, the same time as you hold out your hand with the ring. Not a word had passed between you two to spark this.

“Huh. Leave it to Haymitch, I guess.”

“You should be thanking him,” you shake your head, stopping with the knife, “He’s saving your lives. Had you gone this alone…”

They’d be as good as dead.

“What happened during the first bloodbath, anyway?” you ask, looking to Finnick.

“Guy from five tried to attack Katniss, saved her,” Finnick says, holding out his fingers, “Katniss shot at both Gloss and Enobaria. Gloss wasn’t quick enough, so he should be weak in one of his calves. Peeta killed the guy from nine.”

You look to Peeta to see that he’s nodding, “He can thank me for that. He almost missed it while he was looking at me.”

“I was surprised to see you, was all.” Peeta tries to defend himself, “And the ring was weird to see too.”

So, he did see it. Good enough for you.

“Anyone else?” you ask Finnick.

He shrugs, “That was it, besides the four cannons when we were running.”

Four, and the three kills that you had all gotten total, comes out to seven.

Only seven? That can’t be right.

“I guess we’ll see who exactly died tonight.” you say, and then look over to see Katniss coming down the tree.

She pulls the bow off of her back when she gets to the ground, “The forcefield, it’s a dome. We’re at the edge of the arena.” she stops next to Peeta, “I couldn’t find any signs of fresh water.”

“It’s gonna get dark soon, we’ll be safe with our backs protected. We should set up camp, take turns sleeping.” Finnick says, and then adds, “I can take first watch.”

Katniss laughs, “Not a chance.”

Finnick stands, and this is when you know it’s not going to be good. You reach out to grab his shoulder, glaring at Katniss over it, because you don’t want her to piss off Finnick.

“Honey,” he starts, gripping onto his trident a little tighter, “That thing I did for Peeta back there, that was called saving his life. If we wanted to kill either of you, we would have done it by now.”

And with that, you let go of his shoulder, nodding a little bit. Because he’s not wrong, there would be no point with keeping them around if you didn’t want them as allies. Hell, Finnick could have let Peeta die, and you would have sticked Katniss down. Problem solved, almost instantly.

Finnick pulls his trident up, and then offers his hand to you. You take it, and he begins to pull you off, away from where Katniss and Peeta are. He helps you up a step, and looks behind you guys, presumably at the other two. Then, he follows you to a tree you’ve picked out.

You sit against it, leaning your head back. Finnick checks up on you, and you tell him that you’re doing fine. You let him know before he goes that you’re fine with taking a watch if either of them suddenly decide they’re not okay with it. You make sure to say it a little loud so Katniss can catch that too.

She is supposed to be trusting of you, after all.

After that, you give Finnick a quick kiss, and close your eyes. Mostly hoping to take a nap, since you’re exhausted from the activity. You’ve already fought someone, and you’ve been climbing around the jungle all day with the sun beating down on your backs. The warmth of the arena is gross, and it hasn’t been comforting since the moment you arrived.

You place the knife carefully, so that if you suddenly make a grab for it, it won’t be the blade that you’re grabbing, instead it’ll either be dirt and leaves, or the hilt.

You begin to doze off, thinking about anything but the games. Mostly about your family back home. You’re aware that there’s a big chance that they have eyes on you right now. They could be seeing how tired and dehydrated you are. You’re just hoping that they aren’t worrying too much.

The question of whether or not they had watched you kill the male morphling comes to mind, and you keep telling yourself that it’s slim. That they wouldn’t have cameras underwater, because you and him were far down. Underneath the cornucopia and the path rocks is nothing but water. Unless they have cameras attached to the black rock, the chances of them seeing you were slim.

You’re just glad that you haven’t done anything above water just yet. You haven’t ran into any careers, or any stragglers. People who aren’t in the alliance would be a pain in the ass to fight. Especially since your little group right here, is made up of the two highest numbers. You and Finnick had gotten eleven’s, but Katniss and Peeta? The both of them had scored a twelve.

And going back to what you said earlier about numbers. High numbers are just as dangerous as low numbers. People tend to head for them, so the four of you are basically like a beam of light. If anyone that’s not in the alliance were to come after you guys, their first targets would likely be Peeta and Katniss, with you guys following shortly after.

However, you have a feeling that Katniss and Peeta didn’t deserve the numbers that they got. Sure, they could have shown off some deadly ass skill or something dumb like that, but once again, the scores are rigged. They could give them the high number just because they’re pissed off with them.

They want people to go after them. It’s not so that sponsors will go after them, it’s because they’re hoping that people will try to attack and kill them. Snow isn’t happy with Katniss by any means because of how rowdy the districts have gotten over her act of rebellion with Peeta.

Of course, Peeta had taken part in the action of almost eating the berries, but Katniss is the one that suggested it. She’s the one that pulled out the berries and wanted Peeta to eat them with her. Get rid of her, and the entire thing should die. There’s a chance that it’ll just make it worse, though. Because it would obviously be staged, but then again that could be why you’re all in this place.

It’s because Snow couldn’t just outright kill her. Everyone would be suspicious of it, and the Capitol absolutely loves them right now. They’d get mad at Snow if she ‘accidentally’ died. So, the only solution to that would be to alter what the Quell is. Change it from whatever unfortunate it was before, to what it is now. Now, the crowds can’t get mad if she’s suddenly killed, because she’s not the only one, and it won’t necessarily be his fault.

Katniss and Peeta won’t be killed in here though. It’s the entire mission, they’re going to get out of this arena alive. No matter what happens, you guys are supposed to take special care of Katniss, since she’s going to be the face of it. Keep Peeta happy too, because a happy Peeta, is theoretically a happy Katniss.

The sound of the anthem makes your eyes shoot open as if you’ve been shocked.

“It’s just the fallen.” Finnick says, “Nothing to worry about.”

You nod a little bit, settling your head back against the tree while hoping that your heart calms down some.

The first to show up is the guy from five. No careers are dead, Beetee and Wiress are alive, and obviously so are you and Finnick. Next to show up is the male morphling from District Six, following is Woof. He must have been the cannon that you guys heard when you were running, there’s no way he made it to the cornucopia. He’s old, he was barely doing well inside of the training center.

Your heart completely stops when you see Cecelia.

You slap a hand over your mouth, the tears already brimming your eyes. You’re careful to miss the knife entirely when you push yourself up. You can hear Finnick behind you while you move out of the way, away from Katniss and Peeta.

Cecelia’s dead. Her husband and three kids are now missing a wife and mother. She’s dead. Your best friend is dead.

“I should have saved her.” you sob, crouching down in the bushes while you try not to hyperventilate, “I should have saved her.”

Finnick rubs your back, “Breathe, it’s not your fault.”

“Finnick, I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

He makes you sit in the dirt, hugging you and shushing you slightly. He rocks you back and forth lightly, chin on your head. You can guess that he’s staring at the sky to check the last few people who have died.

“It’s okay.” Finnick tells you, squeezing you a little tighter, “It’s not your fault, honey. You were a good friend to her, and she knew it.”

You eventually start to get a hold of your breathing, but it still feels like a frog is stuck in your throat. You really wish that there was water, because you’ve definitely made this whole dehydration thing worse. Finnick moves from stray hairs back behind your ears, still rocking you and humming slightly, trying to get you to calm down.

It’s a few more minutes of this, before you finally decide that you’re okay. He double checks, and then helps you back to where you were sitting. On the way, he tells you the rest that had been killed. Both of District Nine, girl from ten, and Seeder.

You don’t feel like you can go back to sleeping, so you go back to spinning the knife in your hand, staring at the dirt adjacently. You try not to look in the direction of Peeta, not wanting to see him stare at you in pity. At least with Katniss, she’s behind you, therefore she can do it behind your back.

Eight have died, you were off by a number. There’s still fourteen people around the arena, taking away your group that you have going on, eight. The people left should be everyone up until four, the girl from five, the female morphling from District Six, Johanna and Blight, the guy from ten, and Katniss and Peeta.

It’s complete silence again, only the sounds of cicadas and other bugs filling the air. Until, the chiming of a sponsor gift breaks it. You look behind the tree to see that Katniss is already on her feet, heading towards where the gift had been dropped.

You can hear her break open the metal, clearly eager for whatever the gift may be.

“Drink up?” Katniss says, you’re guessing she’s reading the note.

“Is it water?” you ask, moving from your spot a little bit to see better, Peeta is also sitting up now.

“What is it?” Finnick asks, and you can just barely see Katniss hold up something.

“It’s from Haymitch,” she says, pausing for a moment as she turns it over her hand. Then, she gets up, “I think it’s a spile.”

“A what?” Finnick asks.

Katniss grabs a pretty big rock, and then goes over to a thin three. She hits it a few times, making sure that it gets into the tree. She waits, and you watch as Peeta gets up from his spot. On the way, he offers you a hand to get up too.

After thanking him, you join the other two at the tree. Katniss places her hand on it, waiting desperately. And then the water starts running.

“You’re kidding me,” Finnick laughs, and then he pushes you in front of him slightly.

Katniss gets water first, getting a mouthful. You can feel the smile come over your face suddenly, glad that there’s water. Peeta then goes next, taking his turn with it. Finnick still pushes you to go before him, so you take as much as you can hold, and then move out of the way too.

It’s weird to say, but you’ve never been happier to see water. You all continue to take turns with the water. For a little while, you sit under it, taking mouthfuls when you need it. And then eventually, when you feel much better and no longer sluggish, you take the knife from where you had been sitting at the tree.

“I’m going to find a place to sleep.” you tell Finnick, cupping his face slightly, “Don’t stay up for too long, okay?”

He nods, and brings you in for a kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Finnick.” you say, moving some hair out of his face, “Drink more water.”

He laughs, “Goodnight.”

“‘Night.” you say, moving down to the spot you were eyeing. It’s farther down that Peeta is, and it’s next to a small drop in the dirt, caused by the root of a tree.

You place the knife in reach again, and then use one of your arms as a pillow. You close your eyes, falling asleep to the sounds of the bugs surrounding you.

You wake again at the sound of a gong. However, you don’t jump up like you did before, and you don’t open your eyes either. You try to keep track of how many times it happens, but you end up being impatient.

When it’s finally over, you can hear Katniss, “I counted twelve.”

“Midnight?” Finnick suggests.

“Or the number of districts.”

The silence consumes you guys again, until you hear sort of a charging sound. You recognize it, mainly because it’s the sound that your tv used to make at the house you had before winning. When the electricity used to be turned on for a couple hours of the day.

You open your eyes just in time to see the lightning strike the tree the first time. It’s partially loud, and you can help but to cover your eyes each time it flashes. You groan, turning over.

“Well,” Finnick starts, “If you’re not gonna sleep, I will.”

“Okay.” Katniss says.

You listen to the rustling of leaves and how they get louder. You don’t want to move from your spot, but you lean back slightly, opening your eye just a peek to see just how close Finnick is. He sets down the trident carefully, and lowers himself onto the ground.

“It’s just me.”

“I know,” you sigh, lifting up your arm, he slides in right behind you.

He spoons you, pulling you tight against his body. You hold onto his hand a little, squeezing it for reassurance. You’re thankful that the lightning storm doesn’t have any water either, even if cold rain would feel good right now. You don’t want to be huddled up, shivering like a cold, wet dog.

Eventually, the lightning storm becomes nothing but background noise to you. And instead of keeping you up, it lulls you right to sleep.

–

Katniss’ scream jolts you awake. Your hand is on the knife before you realize it, and you’re pushing Finnick’s arms off of you. You get up into a crouching position just as she yells, “Run!” Finnick sits up now, “Run! The fog is poison.”

You yank Finnick onto his feet as hard as you can. His trident was already in his hand, so he doesn’t have to bend over and pick it up. You watch as Peeta and Katniss race by you and Finnick. You two don’t lag very far behind, though. You’re pretty far ahead of the fog when you do start running.

You don’t hold onto Finnick, knowing that you can run just fine without him pulling you along. You use the vines on a tree to help you down, but as soon as they’re inconvenient, you let go.

Peeta leads the way on this one. He swings occasionally, taking down anything that might get in the way. Katniss is behind him, and Finnick is behind you. Eventually, you press the button for the knife to turn into the sword, as you swing at anything Peeta might have missed.

It’s quick motions. A twig gets in the way, you’ll swing at it, and keep moving. Anything that holds the potential of hurting you unnecessarily, you get it out of the way.

As you guys run, though, you can see that it begins to come from all directions. Peeta just barely slides by when it suddenly appears on your guys’ right. You make sure to get out of the way of the fog, but even then, you can still feel the tingle of the toxicity that it breathes into the air.

Peeta’s path becomes much more jagged. You guys will run to the left for a little while, and then the fog comes in, corralling you a different way. After that, it comes in from the right. You weave in and out of trees and bushes, until you finally realize that you and Finnick had split up from Katniss and Peeta.

Your eyes sweep the ground in front of you, and you take chances in quick glances to see if you can find where they had gone. You find them far off to your left, still running.

With this slip up, you can feel the entire right side of your body start burning. Without realizing it, you had accidentally started to run into the fog, rather than away from it.

Finnick grabs your hand while you try not to scream. Your run slows down considerably, since it feels like your entire right side of your body is on fire. From your head down to your toes, anything that had been exposed, is now aflame with the poison that the fog is made out of.

He tries his best to pull you along, not wanting you to slip up like that again. You watch as he makes almost the same mistake as you do. He yells out in pain, his arm twitching with the trident that’s in it, like he wants to raise the arm and hold onto his neck.

You watch as Peeta falls because Katniss isn’t able to carry him.

You and Finnick head to where Katniss and Peeta are.

“I can’t carry him.” Katniss says to Finnick.

You grab one of Peeta’s arms, lifting it for Finnick. He pulls the arm over his shoulder, and Katniss does the same on the other side. Finnick yells for you to keep ahead of them, and you comply, knowing that you can’t afford another encounter with the fog.

It still burns, and the more you walk, the more painful it seems to get. While you’re ahead though, you keep coming face to face with the fog. Just to make it all easier, you collapse the sword again so it’s not as heavy.

It’s a good thing you did, because you manage to throw yourself over a decline. The wind on your face is brief, as you begin to fall parallel with the dirt. But eventually, the time for flying is up, and you slam straight into the earth hard enough to shatter some bones.

Behind you, you can hear all three of them yell out in pain, before they’re following the same tumble as you are.

You try to keep a hold of the knife away from you, but eventually you throw it while you can in order not to land on it.

You feel the release in your body when you finally hit the bottom. There’s pain stabbing you all over your body, as well as the godforsaken burning that seems to have flared in your fall.

Finnick almost lands on top of you, but he just barely misses and stops to your left instead. You reach over, placing your hand on his chest to make sure that he’s still breathing as you watch the fog come closer. Once you feel that he’s breathing, you take in a deep breath.

You tell yourself over and over to catch your breath, and then get Finnick and go. You’ve been training for this exact moment, to be able to pick him up and bring him with you in the case of an emergency. He doesn’t even have to be cooperative in the movement, as long as you can get him on your back or something, you’ll be fine.

Just before you’re about to push yourself, you see the fog hit an invisible barrier, stopping it from getting to you four.

You fall back against the dirt again.

[mymarvelbunch]

Different Roads... Same Destination: Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (established)

Summary: When the Avengers went back in time to get the Infinity Stones, new timelines were created. By not delivering them back to their exact same spots, you and Steve created major changes in those timelines. What happened? (Non-American!Reader)

This is a sequel to “Be Your Own Hero”. I highly recommend you read it first, since it features many major changes in canon that are addressed here.

Notes: Y/N = your (first) name; Y/Co = your home country; Y/Ci = your home city; Y/N/L = your native language (to be ignored in case you speak English).

Masterlist

Part One

New York, 2012

The Avengers were still trying to understand what happened when a loud ‘thud’ was heard. Tony turned to see the Scepter lying on the ground.

“Well, here is the thing Loki used to brainwash people”, he said. “But where is the Tesseract?”

“This isn’t the Mind Stone”, Loki said. “They placed the Tesseract in the Scepter.”

Everyone turned to him. He had already been right minutes prior, when he pointed out there were four Avengers from the future. Now the team was more inclined to believe him again, especially Thor.

“How do you know this, brother?”, he asked, frowning.

“The glow is different, for starters. And... I don’t know how to say this accurately, but I feel different when the Mind Stone is near me. Ever since those warriors came from the future and took it, I felt... lightweight, even if for brief moments. As if...”

Thor’s eyes widened. “As if the Mind Stone has some sort of power over you.” Loki nodded weakly. “Well, this is important information. Mother will certainly know to fix this. Stark, hand me the Scepter. It will be safer in Asgard.”

A SHIELD agent opened his mouth to protest, but there was little they could do as Tony gave Thor the Scepter. The Asgardian walked to the open balcony, his brother in his arm, and left, though not without asking his ‘brothers-in-arms’ to find the Mind Stone first.

“We’ll do surveillance around the Tower”, Runlow said, “with your permission, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I don’t want that thing near any of us.”

~~

“Wait”, Tony said. “Loki was under mind control back then?” 

You turned behind to face him, but a quick glance told you almost everyone was surprised. “You didn’t know? He told me back in 2014.”

Loki wasn’t there to defend himself, busy as he was being king, but Thor was. “Honestly, I didn’t know either, not until Asgard was destroyed. Loki told me on our way here that Mother chose to perform her purification spells out of everyone’s eye because... It would be better (or less worse) to have people believe Loki had turned evil than to have them know about Thanos. But yes, he was under Thanos’ influence through the Mind Stone. It wasn’t exactly like what he did to Barton and others, but close enough.”

That made an awful lot of sense. No one had a good answer for that, and they turned back to the ‘screen’.

~~

It took five years for the Mind Stone to be found. In the meantime, SHIELD was dismantled, the Winter Soldier was revealed to be a brainwashed Bucky Barnes and HYDRA was taken down piece by piece.

There was no Scarlet Witch, no Quicksilver, no Ultron, no Sokkovia Accords, no Zemo. Steve found Bucky in Bucarest in 2016 and, after weeks of talking and with Sam’s help, took him to New York. There, they faced another battle, as many people wanted him in jail for the crimes he committed as the Winter Soldier.

Surprisingly, their help came from Tony. “I know what he did to my parents, yeah. I read all those files Romanov leaked. But we all saw what brainwashing does to a person, huh?”

No, Tony and Bucky didn’t become friends. Despite his forgiveness, Tony was still wary of him; poor man had his own mental health issues to face already. But he was willing to pay the best lawyers to convince the public that Barnes had no control over himself for the past seven decades, and that the Winter Soldier was nothing but a weapon in HYDRA’s hands. It took time and money, but it was worth it, for Bucky was absolved and reclaimed his status as war hero.

Even so, he didn’t want to stay in US. “Too many memories”, he explained, and Steve understood. It all got worse when one of Tony’s employees found a glowing Stone in the elevator shaft. Thor wasn’t on Earth when it happened, so the Mind Stone stayed at the Tower for a while. Needless to say, Steve was worried, and Bucky was terrified.

“I found a place that might be good for you”, Maria Hill told him one day. “Y/Ci, in Y/Co. It’s a place untouched by HYDRA and with no evidence that the Winter Soldier ever stepped foot in there. No memories, no triggers.”

Bucky accepted the offer almost immediately, and Steve was happy to follow him. “I’ve had enough fights for a lifetime”, he said. “We should have retired from soldier duty decades ago, Bucky. We both deserve a normal life.”

It was early 2018 when they finally settled, and, upon Steve’s insistence, Bucky started looking for mental health care facilities.

~~

Your grip on Steve’s hand tightened when you recognized the mental health facility Bucky got inside. “I was an intern there at college”, you said. Steve’s eyes widened, and he grinned.

“Maybe Bucky will be the one to get you instead of me”, he teased.

Behind you, whispers could be heard.

“It’s weird to not see myself with you guys”, Wanda said. “I wish I could know if Pietro is alive.” Vision rested his hand on her shoulder, likely reflecting on how would his life be if he had stayed as a disembodied voice.

“Wakanda wasn’t even mentioned”, Shuri said. “I guess with father still alive, the borders remained closed.”

“Probably the reason why Bucky moved to Y/Co instead of Wakanda”, Sam added. “If people still think Wakanda is a poor country, no one would think of it as a mental health care reference.”

“I’m not mentioned either”, Scott said, “which is kind of weird, because I don’t see why I wouldn’t meet at least Sam.”

“Yeah, but there was no fight in Germany for you to take part of”, Hope replied. “They probably never contacted you again. Parker isn’t mentioned either.”

Someone shushed them.

~~

Even though he had scheduled it all by himself, Bucky didn’t want to go his first appointment alone. So, when Y/N called for Sebastian Stan (his new alias), he and Steve (who called himself Chris Evans) stood up together from their seats.

Inside, Bucky soon confessed his true identity. Your surprise was visible for five seconds, and then you smiled. “I’m glad you trusted me with such a delicate information, Mr. Barnes. But I wish you’d tell me your story with your own words, not just what was said about you on newspapers.”

Steve stayed inside the whole time, having also revealed who he was. Bucky didn’t tell his whole story at once, give there was a time limit for his appointment, but you asked him to come back in a week. “We can’t give you any concrete diagnosis for now, Mr. Barnes, though we have a few suspicions. But I assure you we’ll help you in every step of your recovery. You won’t be alone.”

After three more sessions, he was diagnosed primarily with PTSD, along with general anxiety disorder and memory problems (he had yet to remember key details of his past).

You were supposed to leave the facility at the end of the month, but your mentor offered you a prolonged stay. “You mentioned your next internship would be in surgery, and you don’t like it, right? I can pull some strings to keep you here. It’s not like you’ll need those skills to become a psychiatrist.”

You happily accepted his help. You’ve always been sure of what you wanted to do after finishing college; skipping surgery internship was honestly a dream come true, and you were eager to follow Barnes’ case. Your classmates didn’t know his true identity, but the case discussions made it clear you got one of the most complex cases at the facility, and some classmates envied you.

Your teacher was successful, and for the following three months you stayed, taking care not only of Barnes, but of other patients as well. It was a wonderful experience, and you were sure you had fallen into the staff’s good graces, which increased your chances at getting into residency program there after graduation.

As the weeks went by, though, you noticed something rather odd. Barnes had been getting inside the room alone since his fifth appointment, but Rogers still accompanied him, waiting for him outside. Eventually, you asked your patient why that was, assuming he’d say he still didn’t feel safe coming alone. Instead, he grinned.

“Oh, he pretends he comes for my sake, but he actually just wants to get a glimpse of you.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva.

~~

At your side, Steve laughed and hugged you tight.

“Guess I didn’t steal Y/N from you after all, punk”, Bucky said, grinning just like his alternate counterpart.

“Thank God”, you replied. “No offence, Bucky, but seeing us dating would have been way too awkward.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

---x---

It wasn’t easy for Steve to convince you to go on a date with him. You were hesitant, given he was her patient’s best friend and roommate, but eventually you conceded.

“We won’t talk about Barnes at all”, you said firmly. “And if I sense this will affect my relationship with my patient, it’ll be over.”

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied instantly, willing to do anything to see you more.

You had charmed him from day one, and his interest on you only grew as weeks went by. When the day of your date arrived, he was a nervous wreck.

“Haven’t seen you like this since Peggy”, Bucky mentioned.

“Shut up, jerk”, he retorted. “And go hide, I don’t want Y/N to see you and cancel our date.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger and you haven’t even kissed yet”, he teased, but left to his room anyway.

A date led to another, and another, and another... Steve waited for you to leave the facility and stop seeing Bucky to ask you to be his girlfriend, and she promptly agreed.

A year later, when you met the Avengers for the first time, Thor told the story of how he, Loki and others fought Thanos when he invaded Asgard to take the Space and Mind Stones. Your eyes widened as he gleefully detailed the purple alien’s demise.

“Glad you defeated him still in Asgard”, Tony said. “We just found out about another of these Stones here on Earth. A wizard here in New York is its guardian.”

“Really? Give me his address, I figure we have much to discuss.”

You didn’t really understand all those talks, but Steve’s visible relief was enough information for you.

~~

On the current timeline, that same relief was visible among everyone. “A peaceful timeline”, you commented. “I hope there are more of these.”

After Strange showed what happened to the Avengers who were not featured, Wong took his place to show another timeline. You straightened your back as the ‘screen’ showed you briefly kissing Steve in Morag.

~~

Did you like it? I was looking forward to write about the consequences of those changes. Butterfly effect is strong here.

For those who don’t remember, in ‘Be Your Own Hero’ Loki tells the Reader he was under the influence of the Mind Stone in the events of the first Avengers movie. This is a popular theory that explains some differences between his behavior in that movie and his behavior on... well, any other movie he’s in.

In this, I try to touch on how things would be different if this information was made known right away, instead of being kept a secret. Being seen as a victim instead of a villain changes a lot for Loki’s story, and therefore Thor’s arc as well (The Dark World and Ragnarok’s. It also helps Tony understand Bucky’s story and actions better, since he saw the effects of mind control on Clint and Loki.

Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Ultron and Vision are all products of the Mind Stone, meaning that, in its absence, they don’t exist. The events of Age of Ultron are what make Civil War happen, meaning one doesn’t exist without the other. With no Civil War, nobody reaches out to Scott, T’Challa doesn’t become king to open the borders, and Peter Parker’s role in Tony’s life is probably less significant (though I do believe he mentors the teenager anyway).

If you want to follow my crazy ideas on time travel and its consequences, taglist is open!

[mandadoration]

hound - vii.

summary: You head to Canto Bight to gather more information about a bounty of yours when you’re ambushed and drugged. Your relationship with Mando is ever confusing.  

word count: 3, 200

pairing: mandalorian x mandalorian!reader

Warnings: non-consensual drug use, swearing, sexually suggestive content, canon-typical violence

a/n: I know I said I wouldn’t update this until next week... But are you complaining? If you follow this story on AO3, you will see that I predict that there will be 14 chapters total!

chapters: i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii  

Read this on AO3

You vaguely remember Mando saying that Canto Bight was nice this time of year, back when you were bleeding all over the floor of the Razor Crest and half delirious. As you fly in, the bright lights of the city almost make your head hurt. You’ve been here once a long time ago, you remember, for an emergency landing that had cost you an arm and a leg just so that you could leave your rented ship overnight. 

It’s a bit of a rough landing about a mile or so away from the city, landing somewhere in an unlit, grassy area, scaring some fathiers away. You head to the back to suit up, Mando trailing after you. 

“We’re looking for someone by the name of Desdre,” he informs. “He was a part of the same intergalactic gang as the bounty. He says he’ll tell us where Jahjon is in exchange for our word that we won’t turn him in.” You tilt your head. It seems suspicious that he was willing to give such precious information in return for safety. There’s no doubt the same thought has crossed his mind. 

“Will we?” you ask. Mando scoffs and slings his rifle over his shoulder and tucks ammo away. 

“We’ll see,” he says curtly, and leaves the ship. You tuck in a few more medshots into your vambrace and check the fuel for your flamethrower and follow him like a shadow. 

--

You don’t feel underdressed, exactly, but in the glitz and glamour of the glitter and expensive fabrics, you and Mando stick out like a sore thumb with your scratched up beskar and arsenal. If Mando is affected by the stares and whispers that follow you, he doesn’t show it. He goes through the alleyways and backstreets of Canto Bight, past the drugged-out spice users and teens using deathsticks, past the couples and trios and straight up orgies on the streets. You’re not quite sure where he’s going, but you stick close to him, warily watching the rooftops. Eventually, he stops at an ornate wooden door, and knocks three times. 

“Who is it?” a singsongy voice calls out. The door swings open to reveal a very scantily dressed man, gold paint rimming his dark eyes, face flushed from drinking and eyes red from spice. He pushes his curly hair up and out of his face, the bangles on his wrist jingling, eyeing you and Mando up and down hungrily. “Oh hello there,” he purrs, and practically lounges against the doorframe. “Mandalorians? What brings you here to my humble abode?” You shift your eyes away from his searching gaze to look beyond him and into the room. Moans and giggles drift into the open air. Did Mando just bring you to drug den?

“We’re looking for Desdre,” Mando answers. “Urgent business.” The man raises a carefully plucked eyebrow and squints his eyes. 

“Like what?” he questions. There are hickies and bruises lining his throat.

“None of your business, that’s for sure,” Mando says, and you think that the man is about to refuse you entry, but his face breaks into a charming smile and motions for you two to come in. 

“Be my guest,” he drawls. He doesn’t move from his position, and forces you and Mando to brush past him, and you grit your teeth as you feel hands feel you up. Judging by the sudden tense shoulders, the same has happened to Mando. The man’s voice leans in close and you do your best to try not flinch from the sudden wave of perfume and musk. His grip on your wrist is hot. “If you and your friend ever decide to come back, not on business, just ask for Pretre, hm?” he whispers, voice low and wanton. You quickly pull yourself away from him, ignoring how he laughs, and follow Mando to the back. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a Mando!” his voice calls out after you. 

The further back into the room you go, the less clothes there are, and the more blissed out the people look. Eventually, you come to an area of the room blocked off by velveteen curtains. You push through it, and wince.

You didn’t think that people wore those gold metal bikinis willingly. 

Still, it’s better than nothing, and your gaze settles on a man, sitting in the center of the pile of blankets and soft pillows, covered by a thin robe, pulling his face from the neck of an attractive Twi’lek whose hands are tangled in his dark hair, and grinning when he sees you and Mando. A few men and women peel themselves off of the floor to prowl around you. It’s hazy in here from smoke and stifling from all the bodies. The lights from outside are barely trickling in, heavy curtains on every window, and your eyes strain to adjust.

“Desdre,” Mando says. You scowl under your helmet as you grab the wrist of someone who was feeling up your leg. 

“Mando!” Desdre crows. He flourishes his arm out. “Come sit! You and your friend- please, relax.” Neither of you move, and Desdre at least has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Well, can I offer you something to drink? Some spice? Or a girl?” he offers, waggling his eyebrows. 

“We’re not here to waste time,” Mando says. Desdre sighs and gets up, soothing the girls that whine and ruffling the hair of a boy that kisses his calf as he moves to stand in front of you and Mando, pipe dangling in his fingers.

“Always business, Mando, and no play,” he complains in a lilting accent. “Who’s your friend?” He trails a finger up your armor before tapping it a couple of times. “Another Mandalorian?” He takes a deep drag from his pipe and blows sickly sweet smoke in your face. Although your helmet filters out most of it, the smell still makes your head ring. 

“Yes.”

“Hm, interesting,” he hums. He stares intensely at you. 

“Jahjon. You said know where he is?” Mando asks. Desdre nods, and goes back to join his harem, leaning back languidly as they crawl over him again. He teasingly smacks the rear of someone you can’t quite see.

“I do, my friend,” he says. “But remember what I asked for? My safety guaranteed for information.” At that, more people slip in the room past the dividing curtains. You count in your head. There’s seven people in here now, all looking at you like you’re their next meal. 

“You have our word,” Mando says, but Desdre clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“I need to hear it from both of you,” he orders, his piercing gaze looking straight at you. You clench your jaw, and you want to smack the smug grin from his face. “I’ve heard about you, you know? The Dog? Loyal to your master and hunting together. I’ve heard you’re ruthless in the field.” All the heads in the room have turned to look at you in unison, and you would’ve found it unsettling if there wasn’t a cold weight settling in your stomach. “Especially how that poor Gran came back in pieces, body mangled like he’d been bashed in.” He’s playing you, you know it, and you shouldn’t let it affect you, but your temper is uncharacteristically short. “Your bite really is worse than your bark, huh? I wonder what you’re like in bed. If you fuck as brutally as you kill.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Mando finally says frustratedly. He steps forward. “If you won’t help us--”

“You have my word,” you grit out, interrupting Mando. You hate this. You hate how you’ve become notorious and people have started assuming, more bold and daring, pushing your buttons and bending you, expecting you to break. You hate that people have started twisting the facts about you to make you more vicious, more blood-thirsty and unforgiving when that’s not anywhere remotely close to the truth. You don’t know how it’s come to this. You haven’t really even done anything remotely interesting. As far as you’re concerned, you’re nobody. A Mandalore without a clan who doesn’t even know why there are people so curious about you. You think the world is against you, using your moment of weakness where your nightmares have been gnawing at you to try and knock you down, degrading you down to a feral animal. You want to prove them wrong. You’ve bled for Mando to know you're human, and you really don’t want to bleed again.

“And so she speaks,” Desdre says, looking pleasantly surprised, and Mando glances at you. “Mando finally took the muzzle off you?”

But you decide to play the part of that mangy mutt, and bare your teeth.

You don't know what it is that made you do it, what possessed you to make such a rash decision, but you pull the blaster from your holster and point it at Desdre. 

“Jahjon. Where is he?” you demand, voice low and dangerous. The people flocking on either side of Desdre scramble away. 

“Dog,” Mando hisses. “Put that down.” You ignore him and stalk closer, your blaster still carefully trained. Desdre doesn’t even look fazed. He looks at you curiously. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Something’s wrong. Your limbs feel too heavy and the room is spinning. It’s too bright in here, even in low-light. 

“Answer me,” you bark. Your grip wavers, and Desdre smiles. 

“I don’t know.” 

“What?”

Mando walks up to stand close to you and tries to pull your arm back, but you wrench it out his grip, and accidentally fire into the ceiling. 

The room descends into chaos. 

Desdre stumbles back, and his little harem get up, looking alert, drawing their own weapons, and as more people flood into the room, surrounding you, you know what this is. 

Desdre never had the intentions to tell you anything. 

And this was an ambush. 

You fire your blaster a few more times, hitting Desdre in the leg and another shot going through the chest of a half-naked humanoid that you can barely make out from your blurred vision before it’s knocked out of your hand. You lash out, your fist catching the jaw of some other poor soul, sending them flying back and taking two more down with them. Your vambrace shoots out a medshot, knocking the Twi’lek he was kissing before out, and your grappling line tangles around their ankle. Yanking on it, another harem girl stumbles over them. 

A staff knocks you over the head, increasing the ringing that’s building up in your ears. You whip around to see Mando shoot them with his own blaster, their body falling limp at your feet. He’s got blood smeared on his chestplate as he fights around the small room. It’s too cramped and too risky to use his amban rifle, but overall, most of the attackers are already dead or knocked out, too drugged up and sluggish to take down two Mandalorians. A tap on your shoulder distracts you. You turn around, fists raised, but a sharp pain twinges in your neck. It’s Pretre, and the gold paint in around his eyes sparkles as you raise a hand and pull out a syringe. Your chest feels tight as you drop it. It shatters on the ground, red liquid seeping out and soaking into the carpet. 

“I forgot that your helmet filters,” he says. Pretre’s voice sounds slow and deep as the room starts to tilt. “I was wondering why it took so long for this to happen. Luckily I had this. My brother is too incompetent. Ah, well, hindsight, you know?” A smile plays on his lips, and you wonder why you hadn’t seen the resemblance before. A wave of pleasure rides over you, but then it starts dragging you down, making your eyelids heavy.

“You… what?” you ask stupidly. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and fire is dancing across your skin. “What did you…?” Everything’s muffled. He puts a hand on your chest and gives the gentlest of pushes, but it topples you over as you collapse on the ground. He stands over you, a pitying smile on his face, showing the barest of white teeth. You vaguely register Mando’s voice calling out to you, but it’s cut off and there’s more blaster fire. 

“I do hope I didn’t give you too much,” Pretre sighs. He bends down and crouches next to you, running a single finger down the length of your helmet, dragging a finger across your neck, nails digging in. “Oh dear. Maybe just a smidge too much… Just ride it out, and you’ll be fine.” He hooks a finger under your helmet, and you cry out weakly, but you’re arms are too heavy and your mind is too light to stop him. Just as he finds the button to release your helmet, something catches his attention. His head snaps up and he pulls away. “Next time,” he promises, “and my offer still stands.” He leaves you on the floor, and your vision is swimming, the ceiling and tapestries on the wall swirling together as you feel sweat dripping down your neck. Whatever Pretre put in you was making you burn up and feel sickly. You hear panting next to your ear. You turn your head--

-- and there’s a strill snarling in your face. 

You reel back, away from its dripping jowls as it pads closer to you. It bays at your sudden reaction, and more hounds appear, surrounding you as you gasp in shallow breaths and scramble away, tripping over bodies and pillows in your effort to get away. They follow you, eyes red and glowing as they bare their sharp teeth at you. Their claws are tearing up the carpet underneath them. The strills come closer and closer, but your back is already up against the wall, and your blaster is too far out of your reach. The one in the front, the biggest and angriest of the pack, goes right to your face, nose touching your helmet, and you close your eyes and curl into yourself as howling echoes in your ears. 

“Dog!” 

Your head snaps up. The hounds are gone, and Mando is hovering over you. He holds out your blaster for you to take. 

“We have to go,” he says, out of breath as he looks around. “That stupid kid who met us at the door- he took Desdre and left. We have to leave before more come.” You stare at him blankly. Where had the dogs gone? When you look, the carpet in front of you is intact and whole, and there’s no slobber. You slowly reach up to take the blaster, holding it in your hand. You pull yourself up, head swiveling as the howling picks up again. 

“Did you hear that?” you choke out. You wave the blaster wildly as you spin to try and find the source. 

“Hey, calm down--” You jerk back as his hand rests on your shoulder. His voice is loud and booming in your ears. Spots dance in your vision as Mando grabs your hand and tugs you along, through the curtains, through the now-empty room, and into the alley ways of Canto Bight. The lights are bright and sends piercing pains up your head as you stumble along. 

“Mando,” you gasp out. It’s getting harder and harder to keep your feet under you. You think you hear dogs running behind you, but every glance back comes up empty. 

“What?” he grunts, pulling you into another winding backstreet. Bile rises up in your throat with each yank. 

“Mando,” you call out again. There are phantom hands against your throat and you can’t breathe. “Mando.” He finally stops and pulls you into an alcove. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he hisses, and then he takes in you heaving shoulders, your choked out pleas, and hold your head in his hands. He calls your name, your real name, soft and pleading, and that’s when it peaks. 

You faintly register how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you collapse like a puppet with its strings cut, Mando just barely managing to catch you before you can hit your head. But his hands add on to your discomfort as it feels like there are thousands upon thousands of hand pulling, tugging, and scratching you, around your throat and holding your arms and legs down. A panic swells in you and you struggle to get away and push the hands off you. It’s smothering, the suffocation in your lungs and your head making you dizzy. It feels like they’re trying to pry your helmet off, but as you go through the streets of Canto Bight, jostling in someone’s arms, you realize it feels like they’re trying to rip your head from your shoulders and tear you limb from limb.

You think you hear screaming, and as more and more things come into focus, you realize it’s you. You shoot up from your cot, gasping and Mando shushes you and calms you down. You flail around, trying to make sense of things. 

You can breath, finally, as the recycled air of the Razor Crest buzzes over you. And you realize it’s light outside. 

“How long--”

“Just a day,” Mando answers, and he sounds exhausted. You wonder if he stayed up to make sure you were okay. “What happened?”

“Drugged,” you say. “I… I don’t know what it was.”

“You were freaking out,” he starts, “horribly. You were screaming and trying to claw your own skin off, talking about dogs and strills.” He eyes you warily, taking in your hunched stance and bouncing knees. “You wanna talk about it?”

And although you know you should, that those hallucinations are fresh and feels as real as memories, the words die in your throat as you clam up. “I can’t,” you admit. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you, I just--” Mando abruptly stands up. 

“It’s fine,” he says, but his tone is short and you can tell he’s irritated. “I’ve located the last of the bounties. We’ll be there in a few hours.” He leaves to go back up the cockpit and you tamp down the urge to bang your head against the wall. The emotional stalemate is driving you up the wall. You can’t understand why Mando is upset you can’t confide in him when he himself is the most closed off person you’ve ever met. If anything, you’ve given him more than he has. After a moment, you go meet up with him. 

You see a red liquid shimmering in a vial in his pocket. He follows your gaze to see what you’re staring at, and he pulls it out and hands it to you. “Mnemiotic drug,” he says. “Imps used it all the time. That’s what they gave you. Modified, but the base is the same. Hallucinations, raised body temperature, heightened aggression, increased sensitivity. Brain damage in extreme cases.”

“What happened to Pretre and Desdre?” you ask him. He doesn’t need to describe the effects if you’ve lived through them. 

“They got what they deserved,” he says, and leaves it at that. 

--

Hound Tag List: @knockbeforeyouspeak​​ @gothtechie​ @killtherandomness​

[c-atm]

Fighting Flirty: 

Character Select PT4 (Act3.2)

  “Oh, Wanda. You're here."

Alex and Wanda turned to the hybrid, still in his incompleted Shinji Ikari cosplay. The upper armor  in his right hand held over his shoulder like a backpack. 

"Yes, I was able to finish my business; I am at your disposal." The wardrobe stylist tipped her witches hat as she bowed from her waist. She gave him a once over smirking. "Teenage angst looks good on you."

Alex scoffed out a laugh at the cheeky joke and the surprising look on Steven's face.

"You know you're the second one who said that today, or on the same lines of that anyway."He sighed a bit of a blush on his face. He turned to Alex spreading his arms out. "Well?"

Alex waved her hand. "I'm sorry, I hate that character. My answer's completely biased." 

"I'm asking you though and if it's bias, I know it's not me but character. Not gonna get offended, promised."

Alex side-eyed Steven, her mouth left corner turned up slightly disbelieving his words. Last thing she wants to do is insult a customer in front of her boss, but she didn't want to disappoint said customer.

"'I've already been told I make depressing sexy, and teen angst look good. Don't think there's you could confuse me more with an underhand compliment."

"You wear uselessness well."

Steven only started at the quick and blunt reply, ignoring Wanda's giggling behind him. 

"You know.." He chuckled. "I agree with you on him being useless."

"But you wear him well...Seriously, that costume fits you like a glove." Alex stated as she looked him over. 

“Taking pride in your work, Alex?” 

Alex gave her boss a grin. “Not my work, Boss. This is a labor of love,”She pressed her index to her lip turning the grin to Steven. “or should I say friendship?”

“I see..” Wanda jested. “Well, it makes sense to know what would look good on your partner.”

“Really? Isn’t it bad business to tease your customers?” The hybrid retorted with a half- hearted pout.

“Yeah, but who else’s gonna give you top of the line costumes like us.”Alex half smirked as she moved close to his ear “Isn't it bad practice to consummate in a public dressing room?”

Steven's face burned with embarrassment as he turned towards the receptionist. He took a look at Wanda who wore a knowing grin. 

“It’s not like we have any written rules against such acts and you did rent out the studio, so you’re not bothering anyone.” The stylist assured patting his shoulder.”Just be mindful that our rooms aren’t sound proof and please respect the merchandise.”

He rubbed his eyes, sighing as he did. “It’s not what you think.I swear.” He lazily held his right hand as if he was being sworn in. “All I did was fulfill a promise.”

The two women looked at one another for a quick glance.

“We won’t pry.” They said simultaneously before Alex moved from him a small smile on her face.

“I appreciate that, really. Also I apologize if we caused you-”

“Save those for when you really offended this place.” Wanda interjected. “ I told you to have fun and it sounds like you are,so no harm no foul; as far as i’m concerned.”

“Yeah, ok.” Steven nodded, not pushing the issue further. “So with that out of the way,” with a smirk he held the armor up “can I get some assistance with this?”

“Ah,  let me guess, thought it was a slip on, huh?” Alex joked as she took the ABS accessory and reached inside unclipping the latches in the right, opening it up not unlike a book revealing it’s black hollow inside. “There you go, slip it on to your shoulder and have Connie just close the latch to secure it..”

“Actually Connie’s freshening up, so maybe you can help, Alex? Also,” he turned to Wanda “you wouldn’t have those costumes ready, would you?”

Wanda scoffed at the question. “Of course I have them ready.” She grinned cockily. “What do you take me for, huh? That’s an insult, apologize.” 

Alex slipped the armor up his left shoulder, shaking her head as she did. “You better Steven, Boss here does not take underestimation well.” 

“Reminds me of a certain someone. “ Steven chuckled in response to Alex’s teasing. Holding his neck up and right arm out as Alex lined up the armor .“I’m sorry Ms. Wanda,I meant no insult.”

Wanad rolled her eyes at his overdramatic voice. “Yeah yeah,” she gave him a side smirk “ watch when I roll the costumes out and we get you ‘friend’ in hers. You’re really going to be singing my praises..” She folded her arms under her chest, her eyes burning in challenge. 

“I can’t wait.” Steven said excitedly as Alex closed the latch, securing it on his chest.

“So, how ya feeling? Not too tight or anything?” Alex asked

Steven moved the top half of his torso getting a feel of the complete costume.” It’s not bad, it’s huggy..but not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

“Go to the display stage, so you can see the whole picture.”

“Alex,” Wanda sighed “it's not a display stage.”

“Revolving stage with multiple full body mirrors along the perimeter of said stage, that sounds very ‘display’, Boss.” The younger girl argued.

“It kinda does.” Steven agreed.

“It's the main stage, and I won't accept any other name for it, understood?" 

Her gentle smile didn't match her steel eyes, nonetheless the two nodded in agreement, if a bit out of fear. Regardless, Wanda nodded, pleased at her victory.

"Alex please go to the back and get those four special orders and bring them to their dressing rooms."

"Aye, aye capi'tan." Alex saluted playfully before leaving the two.

"So should we get you to the main stage?" 

Steven shook his head. "Not yet, still gotta get a couple of outfits for me and my...compliment."

"Your compliment…" Wanda snickered. " Now that's an interesting pet name."

Steven shrugged before walking along the costume aisles, observing the costumes, pausing every few seconds.. "I guess...It's not like we're actually exclusive or even in an official relationship."

"Are you trying to change that?"

Steven didn't say anything as he lifted up a couple of costumes from a popular JRPG that they played a few years back. 

"I'm not or at least not forcing the change."

"But you wouldn't mind if it changed?"

"Wouldn't matter much."

Wanda watched him as he continued his search. Watching as his eyes lingered on a particular  piece.

It was a white leotard with an elegant detachable PVC fauld around the waist that reached the ankles. The upper bust, back and neck had a cross-stitch design, the shoulders were a bit puffed and resembled guards and the sleeves resembled long point gloves. It was accessorized with a PVC broadsword, a wildflower crown connected to a transparent veil, two garter leather belts, and a beautiful plastic bouquet.

"This is quite the wedding cosplay." 

Wanda noticed the adoringly tone in his voice. "Why thank you, it's an original piece. Went for a knightly bride aesthetic."

"You nailed it very well, it looks like something a strong maiden would wear. Especially like the lion faced pellets on the fauld."

"If only I had a model, I could probably make it a bestseller."

Steven looked at the stylist from his left peripheral, her tone was suggestive. 

"It's not like you weren't imagining her in it as well." 

Steven sighed. "Maybe I was." He scratched the back of his head a slight blush. "Though, she wouldn't be comfortable being in the center of attention."

"She wouldn't be alone though. I do have a groom outfit to go with it."

Steven narrowed his sight at Wanda. "You planned this?"

"You gave me weeks in advance. I took my shot and made preparations." The stylist shrugged, a lofty smirk on her face. "You can say no..but I'm willing to remove the cost of your visit, if you two did model my creations."

Steven's eyebrows rose in consideration. "We'll still have to pay for the costumes though?"

"We gotta make some money, but If you model the bride and groom, they're yours."

"Sheesh, sounds like you made these for us."

Wanad turned her head away and raised her hand to halt him. "I admit, the measurements were altered to fit you two, but I had no certainty when it came to having you wear it.." She looked at him, her eyes far-reaching. "Not until I met you two in the park." 

Steven watched her grin at him, her eyes both admirable and a bit amused.

"You two are quite taken with each other and you show your affection easily.”

“Never really gave notice to that,” Steven answered with a smile. “it’s become a natural form of communication for us.”

“Can I ask, how long have you known each other?”

“You’re quite curious.”

“Investigative.” Wanada corrected, seriously. “As a stylist, I feel knowing my subjects  helps me dress them better.”

“Is that why you were so grabby on Connie?”

She chuckled at the slight bass in his voice. “Now mr. Universe, I assure you it really was just a routine check. No need to be jealous over your best friend.”The stylist grinned. “I would never get in between a couple of eternal honeymooners.”

Steven snickered.“Eternal honeymooners huh?.You should meet Ruby and Sapphire.” He sighed, scratching his head. “Seven years.” 

“Preteen friends and you're still together.” Wanda crossed her arms impressed. “Most would’ve grown apart after the first few years.”

“Not many lived our adolescent or teenage years.” Steven retorted with a smile. “I’d wouldn't be who I am without her.”

“Hard childhood?”

“Yeah...Very much so. We’ve gone through things together. Things most people would have ran from.”

“She didn’t.”

Steven laughedt. “Nope, she decided to face it all with me, my little berry knight. Help carried my burdens, protected me from danger, guided me when I was lost, saved my life multiple times.” 

Wanda could only watch as his smile grew. “She’s really amazing, huh?”

Steven nodded. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have her, and that is not flowery talk.”

"You love her, don't you."

"Not exactly hiding the fact, now am I?"

Wanda eyes widen at the conviction in his voice. “I believe you…Though it's hard to think of you two as 'just' best-friends. Not after all that."

Steven shrugged, looking smug. "You're not the first who said that, but that's the base of our relationship."

"Meaning you're something else."

"Of course." Steven stated with a snicker, before he took the bride and tossed it over his shoulder leaving Wanada even more curious as he made his way to the dressing rooms. 

When he walked in closing the door behind him, he was greeted with the sight of Connie sitting on the bench next to her Asuka costume legs crossed, hands next to her hips. She was looking annoyed while  tapping on his phone.